by Laury Falter
Jameson’s head was bowed towards me, his defined jaw was set tight, and his stunning green eyes hadn’t blinked since he first noticed me – all of which indicated, to me, that he was trying to convey an important message.
Be careful…
“Ironic to think that only a week ago…” Nolan said, stealing my attention. His voice began to fade then, unable to continue his thought, for fear of safety. Still, we all knew what he meant. These sandy blonde-haired people on the opposite side of the hallway were once our enemies, but now, a greater threat had come to New Orleans.
Jameson’s forehead twitched as his eyes jetted to the right, telling me that a threat was close by. I glanced in that direction and found a Vire heading directly for us. His head extended a foot over the crowd, making him hard to miss, but it was the moldavite stone embedded in the man’s opaque sunglasses that revealed his true identity.
The tension in the air rose instantly until it was almost stifling, but this didn’t stop Jameson.
As the Vire came within a few feet of me, Jameson stepped into the man’s path – a move so bold it extracted deep gasps from my cousins, who were standing behind me, and from Jameson’s siblings.
I then watched something so amazing transpire that it took my breath away.
The remaining Caldwells stepped across the hall to stand beside Jameson in a show of support. Immediately, the Weatherfords claimed a place beside them, forming a protective wall in front of me. Judging by everything I’d heard, this was the greatest show of unity between two rival families that had ever taken place. Not about to let anyone take my position in the line of danger, I quickly stepped to the end of the Caldwell-Weatherford wall, just as the Vire reached us.
Our arrangement forced the Vire to circle us, which I’m sure didn’t go unnoticed.
The rest of the students in the hallway went about their business, shuffling passed us, completely unaware of the magnitude of impact our actions were going to have. Only the Caldwells and Weatherfords knew.
Even though it was an instinctual move – either, a defensive maneuver, guarding against a possible assault, or a bold stance, sending a message that we weren’t to be threatened, it only meant one thing to us: If there had been any belief that Jameson and I were still enemies, and the Caldwells and the Weatherfords remained at odds, it was now going to be called into question.
Realization flooded our families’ expressions as they glanced between one another; only Charlotte was frowning scornfully at the Vire’s back, and Estelle was about to propel her gum, aiming at him, until Oscar shook his head at her. Jameson and I were the only ones who didn’t share their concern. I was watching him, trying to contain the rush of amazement at his courage that drew our families together in an act of defiance. He was facing away from us though, leery, as he watched the Vire retreat down the hall.
As everyone quickly dispersed, I flashed Jameson an intense stare, delivering my own message.
You be careful too…
After that, second period couldn’t arrive soon enough.
It was the only class Jameson and I shared, so I was thankful when I didn’t find anyone but him in the room.
“Seen any more?” he asked, as I took my assigned seat beside him.
“No…they figured we weren’t a threat and suddenly vacated…” I said, humorously.
He smirked.
“Yes, they’re all around us,” I replied and then sighed in exhaustion at that statement.
“They’ll keep their distance now.” He said this with indisputable certainty, so I had to know why.
“Did they tell you that directly?” I teased.
He gave me a fleeting, semi-playful glare before growing more solemn. “This morning was meant to test us…and we failed. I failed. If I didn’t step between the two of you, they wouldn’t have confirmation that our families are working together.” I evaluated him, coming to the conclusion that his time in first period had been devoted to determining the Vire’s motives as opposed to hearing the class lecture.
“Jameson…what you did was incredibly brave,” I said, placing my hand on his forearm, becoming temporarily distracted by the feel of his muscles beneath my fingers.
“It was incredibly stupid,” he replied flatly. The words echoed in my head as he channeled them through me, and I heard the deep self-disgust hiding in his tone.
Being slightly upset by his disappointment, I argued back, silently, “No one, outside the Weatherford family, has ever stood up for me the way you did this morning. Not a single person.”
He sighed in defeat and tried to explain why he was so frustrated. “Jocelyn, I didn’t protect you. I made our situation worse. I gave them confirmation that-”
I had every intention of letting him finish, and then refute his claim, but Ms. Wizner entered the classroom…and she wasn’t alone. Acting on instinct, my hand slipped from Jameson’s and fell awkwardly to the side of my desk, simultaneously breaking our channel.
He realized this and glanced at me, perplexed. I was staring at the front of the room but saw him out of the corner of my eye. After following my line of sight, Jameson’s body sprang back, poised and readied.
A Vire just entered.
This Vire was tall and slender wearing a knee-length pinstriped dress with a delicate floral moldavite brooch clasping the neckline. She looked very proper…an unassuming camouflage for such an ominous executioner. After a few seconds of small talk with Ms. Wizner, she took a seat just to the left of the whiteboard, facing the class.
The woman didn’t do a sweeping evaluation of the students as I expected. She didn’t need to. She already knew Jameson and I were in the room or she wouldn’t have been there, either.
“This is Mrs. Gaul,” announced Ms. Wizner, as the last student settled into his seat. “She is shadowing various teachers here at the Academy of the Immaculate Heart while she earns her degree in education. Now…please turn to your next chapter and we will begin.”
As the textbook covers flew open, my only contemplation wasn’t what we’d be learning today, but rather, what other classes Mrs. Gaul planned to show up in.
Ordinarily, Jameson and I attempted to steal a few private seconds together, when one of us would place our hands on the other, channeling thoughts without the rest of the class knowing. Today, we kept our hands to ourselves. Mrs. Gaul did a good job of appearing to take equal interest in Ms. Wizner and the students, but an astute eye would have detected that her glimpses favored the right-hand side of the class – the side Jameson and I sat on.
I was positive Jameson noticed too.
His body shifted in the chair and he released annoyed sighs, clearly signaling his growing irritation. At some point, Mrs. Gaul caught on, which caused a taunting smile to play at the edges of her lips in response. This infuriated me. Thoughts of standing up, racing down the aisle, and lunging at her filled my time until she finally looked my way. Immediately, the vehemence of my scowl caused her self-important sneer to sharply fade away. Victorious, I didn’t show her any attention until the end of class. Then, as I left the room intense glares passed both ways between us.
In the hallway, Jameson boldly gripped my forearm, channeling a thought to me. It was clear and insistent.
“Stop…please stop!”
So he’d caught on…I wasn’t sure if this made me feel rebellious or ridiculous but for the next few hours, I did my best to comply with his request, failing at each attempt. Eventually, I gave in, scowling at every Vire who came within a few feet of me. There were plenty of them, and I wanted to let each one know they had been seen.
During this time, I found that Jameson had been correct. The Vires did keep their distance the rest of the day. But they always seemed to know where I was, turning a corner, coming through a door, or crossing my path at just the right time, so I was never alone. I knew Jameson must be enduring the same circumstances, which only intensified my fury.
Throughout the rest of the day, I gradually became more ac
customed to seeing the moldavite stones glistening around me. Though, it wasn’t until later, at evening class, that I finally started to understand just how precarious our situation had become.
“Do you think Ms. Veilleux’s forgiven us yet?” Estelle asked as my cousins and I stood at the entrance to our evening school’s courtyard. Estelle’s love for color convinced her to wear a fluorescent green scarf tonight that seemed to illuminate the darkness; it was slightly distracting. The rest of us contemplated her question as we surveyed what was before us.
The courtyard once held a copious number of tropical plants and boasted antique gas lanterns accentuating weathered, brick walls. Though, now, it looked nothing like it once did.
A pile of scorched palm leaves and mangled foliage had been swept into a pile to the left. Directly next to it sat a heap of broken brick, glass shards, and jagged wood pieces. A thin strand of smoke was still rising from the center of the mound. All around us, stains were left on the exterior walls resembling black ghosts remaining here…to taunt us…to watch over us…to accuse us of destroying this once-beautiful and majestic school.
As we silently gazed upward at the charred wooden beams that formerly held a balcony, encircling the courtyard from above, Spencer muttered the response we were all thinking. “No…she hasn’t forgiven us.”
“We did send her a nice flower arrangement,” Nolan pointed out, which warranted dazed stares from the rest of us. He seemed to be perfecting his talent for delivering insensitive statements.
“We destroyed her school,” Oscar stated, amazed by his brother.
Nolan shrugged it off. “Just the outside of it…”
“Forget it,” Vinnia cut in. “He’s never going to understand.”
“Understand what?” asked Nolan, insolently.
Spencer placed a comforting hand on Nolan’s shoulder. “Trust me. Even if we told you…you still wouldn’t get it.”
While the rest of us chuckled, Nolan scornfully shrugged off Spencer’s hand, as if he thought we were keeping him from a private joke.
“He’s right you know.”
The voice came from behind us, carrying down the corridor that ran from the street to the courtyard. Its familiarity sent a warm tremor through me.
Jameson came strolling out of the shadows and into the hazy light cast from makeshift lanterns placed around the area of destruction. A seductive grin tugged at one side of his mouth, tantalizing me, sending my heart into a tantrum.
He continued his leisurely stroll without any intention of stopping. He couldn’t. Someone might be watching. Regardless, it didn’t prevent him from taking advantage of our close proximity. As he passed by, he closed our distance and came so close that our forearms faintly brushed, sending a shock wave up my arm and across my chest. In those brief seconds, he sent a private message that only I could hear.
“You look beautiful tonight.”
After taking another step, he swiveled his head back towards me, his grin spreading wider as he saw my reaction. Before he fully came into view of the courtyard, where other students mingled and our charade of playing enemies needed to resume, he finished his initial announcement to the rest of the group. “The insides were left virtually untouched.”
“See?” Nolan sounded justified. “It just needs a facelift.”
The rest of the Caldwells followed, none of them coming to a standstill or even slowing their pace. A few students in the courtyard had seen us by then – and knowing the history of our family feud, they were astutely aware of us – so only Alison dared to speak. She winked at Nolan and whispered, “I said the very same thing…”
Instantly, Nolan’s chest expanded and his head tilted upward, proud, now fully redeemed. The rest of us ignored him.
My cousins and I gave the Caldwells time to find a spot in the courtyard before making our entrance; the tension in the small, enclosed area seeming to expand rapidly.
“Do you feel that?” asked Estelle. “Icky…” She groaned, shaking her limbs theatrically.
Oscar laughed, seeming far less affected. “It’s running through my arms and legs.”
“Me too,” said Estelle, openly disgusted.
Knowing I was confused, Spencer leaned toward me and explained, “Their ability in manipulating the elements lends a heightened awareness of our environment.”
I smiled at him, knowing I could always count on Spencer to explain something concisely.
“What do you think’s causing it?” Nolan asked, already surveying the courtyard in case it held the answer.
“The putrid aroma of burnt wood?” suggested Vinnia.
“The fear of encountering Ms. Veilleux?” Spencer guessed.
I shook my head and voiced my feeling. “No…it’s more than that.”
As our assessment continued, Miranda, a thin girl with wavy brown hair from the same evening class as me, stopped in front of us after she hurdled a fallen beam.
“You guys should sell tickets the next time a fight breaks out.” Her hand swept out across the destruction as a smile played on her lips.
“Funny…” Vinnia muttered.
“It’s the tension,” said Estelle, suddenly giving us our answer. “You’re worried we’ll fight with the Caldwells.”
“Sure,” Miranda said, oblivious to the reason why this conclusion wouldn’t already have been reached. “And we’re not the only ones. You have special guests.”
Her playfulness was irritating me, until I saw what she meant. As if purposely timed, one of the Vires emerged from Ms. Veilleux’s office, heading directly for the room where my evening class was held. The moldavite on his belt buckle was sparkling bright enough to be seen across the courtyard.
Of course, Miranda and the rest of the students here had no idea of the real reason for their arrival. Only the Weatherfords and the Caldwells were privy to it. Under the guise they were keeping the peace between two feuding families, they were actually here to ensure our families hadn’t made peace. They were also keeping a close eye on the primary suspects of their associates’ deaths.
“Might want to be on your best behavior,” she warned, tilting her head. Though, this time, I noticed she wasn’t smiling.
Immediately after seeing the Vire, my eyes went in search of Jameson, hoping he was safely surrounded by his family.
Of course…he wasn’t.
When I noticed all the Caldwells – except Jameson – gathered near a barren planter, my body stiffened and my eyes darted toward every dark corner…starting first with those in the Vire’s path.
Ironically, when my eyes landed on Jameson, I found that he was searching for me just the same.
Standing against the farthest wall, engaged in a conversation with Ms. Veilleux, our eyes met. His attention peeked beyond her shoulder, just long enough to be reassured of my safety, before promptly returning to his discussion without noticeable hesitation.
It was not common to find a student and Ms. Veilleux conversing in private, and this particular meeting seemed even more curious. It looked like they were conferring with each other. But they weren’t the only ones. The rest of the students, huddled in clusters wherever a spot of clear and undamaged ground could be found, were also questioning the Vire’s presence. It seemed reasonable that Ms. Veilleux would be doing the same. I decided that Jameson was probably just filling her in.
Ms. Veilleux sharply turned around, and with Jameson in step, headed to the center of the courtyard…or at least as close as she could get to the center considering the destruction around us.
“Students,” she called out, shifting her black and yellow patterned dress away from a smoldering log. “While the façade of our school has been tainted, the inside is safely intact. That said, we have decided it is in the best interest, of students and teachers alike, for classes to be combined from this point forward.” The crowd erupted in murmurs as a surprised expression settled on just about everyone’s dimly lit face. Only Jameson showed no reaction. “From now on, our professors
will share in a rotation so that you’ll have a new teacher and a new topic each week.”
“Back to the old way…ha…Ms. Veilleux?” shouted a sturdy boy, whose name I couldn’t remember.
“Yes, Jonah,” she replied, showing contempt for the interruption. “Now, you’ll also find we have a few guests with us.”
In unison, all heads turned toward the Vire standing outside a classroom door. When he came out of the shadows, I was able to get a better look at him and immediately recognized him as the one who made the suspiciously close sweep in the hallway this morning. With the smooth contour of his hairless scalp and his long, sinewy limbs, emphasizing how his height towered over us, he was just as striking now. When he removed his sunglasses, I didn’t miss the arresting amber-color of his eyes or the fact that they were pinned on Jameson, despite dipping his chin toward me and my cousins. A swell of anger and resentment came crashing over me as I realized he had followed us here. The feelings were so powerful I nearly missed the end of Ms. Veilleux’s announcement.
“Theleo Alesius and his colleagues will be sitting in on your class for an indeterminate length of time. As silent participants, they will not be expected to participate. They may leave the room at any time and may return at any time.”
“She’s publicly laying the ground rules for them,” whispered Vinnia, from behind me.
“Vires don’t follow rules,” Oscar replied, stiffly.
“In short,” Ms. Veilleux continued, raising her voice and peering in our direction, “there should be no interaction between any student and Theleo or his colleagues. Now…get to class.”
Theleo had three other Vires with him, one of them being Mrs. Gaul, the snide woman from my class earlier today. We learned this after entering the room and finding one positioned in the center of each wall. Unfortunately, we’d needed to pass by Theleo first.
