Unveiled: The Chronicles of Luxor Everstone

by Jacklyn Daher

  Luxor took a step back, unsure of what to do. If she had a checklist, or signs to direct her, she would be more at ease, but right now she was just standing around. Change was a foreign concept for her, never having to deal with it, and didn't want to. She loved structure and not having to worry about what came next.

  A line quickly formed to see the grumpy receptionist who handed out orientation packs, and with each passing student, she seemed to get more aggravated. Luxor joined the end of the queue and wondered why orientation packs were being given to students already at the school? As she waited, she pulled the hood of her jumper over her head and breathed through her mouth to lessen the smell of stale air circulating the room.

  Didn't these people believe in air conditioners?

  In front of her, two boys, both tall, lanky and with shaved heads, argued in hushed tones. Since the line moved at a snail's pace, Luxor grabbed snippets of the conversation. They were complaining about having to come here, mixed with words of, "hunter" and, "mission".

  After a few minutes, it was her turn to hand in the transfer papers to the receptionist. "Hi, my name's Luxor Everstone. I need to see the principal."

  The beady brown eyes of the receptionist scrolled the list of names in front of her. She looked Luxor up and down and took in her hoodie, jeans, and scuffed converse. "You're not on the list," she grumbled.

  Of course, I'm not.

  Luxor frowned. "Check under Ellie Lockhart."

  The receptionist trailed her finger down the list and pursed her lips in a thin line. “Another new one," she huffed, and passed over the orientation pack. She pointed to a row of green plastic chairs, underneath a window, swiping away the frizzy hair from her eyes which blew wildly from the portable fan in front of her. "Go and sit over there. The principal will see you when he is ready."

  Luxor left the window and made her way as quick as possible to the seats. Anything to get away from the death stare the receptionist was inflicting. She dumped her pink backpack beside her and slid into a chair. She wriggled her butt trying to get comfortable, but it was no use, the chairs weren't made for comfort, they were purely convenience.

  As more time went on, her agitation increased and it had nothing to do with the chair, but why she was there. Although she should have been accustomed to sitting for long periods after the five-hour trip from Hampton Cove.

  She expected to be read the riot act and code of conduct to instil fear in her. She was a delinquent after all. Apparently, according to Meredith, she was a "special case" and that was why the introduction was needed.

  It would have been easier just to get the papers from the grumpy receptionist and been on her way. But that would be too simple, Meredith was going to think of new ways to punish her and milk it for all she could. She hated her with every fibre of her being, and there was nothing Luxor could do to make it up to her.

  Behind her, through the glass window, Luxor heard a couple of voices. She straightened her back and peeked through the vertical blinds. Inside, a man in charcoal slacks and a white shirt talked animatedly to a boy. From the slouched down posture of the boy with his legs extended wide, it was clear he was unfazed by the man's rants. As if they realised they were being listened to, instantly and in unison, they turned towards the window.

  Luxor lowered in her seat and slid to the floor and falling on her butt with a thump. It resulted in unwanted glances and snickers in her direction.

  Great, that's all I need, to make a fool of myself.

  Chairs screeched against the ground in the office behind, and Luxor sat back up straight immediately. Her back was against the wall, eyes straight ahead, with her hands in her lap. Momentarily she closed her eyes; all this waiting was wearing her down.

  "Ellie Lockhart."

  Deep in her trance, Luxor almost didn't hear her old name being called. Or maybe it was because she had re-taught her brain to banish Ellie and any remnants of what it contained. As far as she was concerned, Ellie died the moment the truth was revealed.

  A girl beside her nudged her arm so tenderly that it almost did not register. Her eyes snapped open. A fair-skinned girl with honeyed blonde hair and blue eyes directed her head at the principal. "I think that's you."

  How could she possibly know that? Do I have a new girl sign on my forehead?

  Luxor jumped to her feet and stood ramrod straight with her hands behind her back. The principal opened the door wider and raised an eyebrow nonverbally to say, "Enter".

  The boy strode out relaxed and with a gait that oozed confidence. It wasn't until he raised his head that Luxor registered who he was. There was no way she could forget. It was the boy from the petrol station. In the daytime, he looked different. His black hair remained mussed, although not as much, but there was something alluring about his eyes which caught her attention. She previously assumed they were caramel, but maybe that was because of the lack of light inside of the petrol station. Instead, he bore the colour of another delectable treat. Toffee. Sweet, addictive toffee which invited and enticed. She licked her lips, stuck in a conscious trance as she stared like a stalker.

  Tiny pinpricks travelled up and down her arms, resulting in tingles. The sensation was glorious, as if the sun beamed through the mustard walls. A silent sigh escaped her lips, and she smiled, relishing it for a moment.

  The boy leaned lazily against the door frame, his hands deep in the pockets of his black jeans, so only his thumbs remained, and cocked his head to the side, arching an eyebrow. His eyes were trained on her, and Luxor would know, as her eyes fixated on his.

  What the hell is wrong with me? Look away!

  The principal cleared his throat and snapped Luxor out of her haze. He shook his head as he witnessed their interaction, impatience clear on his face.

  The boy cleared the doorway and gifted her with a mischievous grin. As he passed, his pinkie touched hers, the caress light as a feather. A jolt ran through her, and he let out a light chuckle before disappearing.

  Luxor inhaled deep and squared her shoulders before she entered her doom. She crossed her fingers behind her back, preparing for the worst yet hoping for the best.

  The principal closed the blinds and headed to the brand new, black leather chair. It was out of place against the grey walls and matted malt carpet. The room smelt of disinfectant and vinegar with a candle burner emitting lavender fumes all mixed into one. Funnily, these made the room feel welcoming.

  Her last visit to the principal’s office wasn’t a success. Three days into her release from the hospital, an emergency meeting had been set up to discuss her future. Mr. Johnstone, a rotund man with a hideous tawny toupee reclined back in the chair of his stainless-steel office, his hand interlocked at the back of his head.

  “I’m sorry I cannot expose them to any danger you inflict. As a principal, I must put the welfare of your fellow students first,” he said, sporting a Cheshire-style grin. Luxor didn’t interject, she had already accepted her fate. “You are hereby expelled from Marsol College. I’m allowing you ten minutes to get off the property before security will be alerted.”

  Meredith begged and sobbed for him to reconsider, that it was an accident, but it had been in vain. That morning whispers circulated that a cheque was donated from the father of Verity, Charles De Havilland, for the refurbishment of the gymnasium. But Luxor knew the truth. It was a payoff to ensure she was kept as far away from Verity as possible.

  The principal indicated for her to take a seat. "So, Ellie."

  "Actually, it's now Luxor, and my surname is Everstone." She obeyed his instruction and plucked out her transfer papers and birth certificate from the pocket of her hoodie and passed it to him.

  He leaned forward to receive them and as their fingertips brushed, he jumped and dropped them, causing them to scatter to the floor.

  Luxor hopped out of her chair to retrieve them.

  "Sit, sit." The principal waved his palms up and down before retrieving the papers and returned to his chair. Sifting through
the paper, he hummed. "Oh, I see." He scribbled on a paper in red marker and leaned back in his chair, his hands together as if in a prayer and placed them against his lips.

  Rich, mahogany hair flopped over and into his eyes and touched the top of his black-rimmed glasses. Pushing it back he revealed a flawless complexion making him look like more of a substitute teacher.

  The principal opened his mouth to say something but stopped as if he was unsure of where to begin. "Let’s start at the beginning, shall we? Hello, I'm Principal Wright. I won't take up much of your time, I just wanted to welcome you to Brighton Falls High."

  There was the introduction, now time for the riot act.

  Luxor suppressed a yawn with the back of her hand.

  "I hope I am not boring you already." He tilted his lips to the side.

  "No, I had a late-night unpacking." That was a half-truth. She wished that were the reason, but the disturbing dream had taken a toll on her.

  "I can sympathise," he said with a wry smile, spreading his arms outwards. Sparse cardboard boxes lined against the wall.

  Principal Wright retrieved a manila folder from the towering stack and opened up Luxor’s file, which had just arrived from Marsol College. Written in red marker across the front, "Special" was emblazoned with three slashes underneath to provide emphasis in addition to the capital letters. On the inside, her last school photo was paper-clipped to the corner. The girl in the photo had a flirty smile, displaying her straight, white teeth. Her crystal blue eyes were wide and bright, framed by long curved lashes. White-blonde hair hung in waves, which framed her slender face. It was no longer her, but a stranger from another time. An array of newspaper clippings, report cards and various other information almost spilled out.

  Luxor stiffened and held onto the side of the chair for extra support. She didn't expect her past to disappear, but a clean slate would have made her life easier. How much information was in the file? She wondered. Were the details of the accident in there? The full truth or the gossip? She scratched her arms, a dreadful habit she succumbed to when she was nervous. A couple of minutes later she stopped as the skin began to burn. Instead, she transferred all her nervousness into picking off her purple nail polish.

  A knock sounded at the door, and without an invitation it swung open.

  “Oh, I hope I’m not late and missed anything important,” a woman said and moved to preside next to Principal Wright.

  “No, you’re right on time. Luxor, this is Dr. Valencia Lawson, the coordinator from The Renaissance Centre.”

  Luxor peered up at the face of the woman who was tasked to help with her mental well-being. Her deep rust coloured hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, a contrast to her hazel eyes and pale complexion. As part of her rehabilitation, or punishment as Luxor viewed it, she was ordered to attend the Renaissance Centre, a facility for troubled teens for her, “anger management issues.” The court had decided that, “juvenile detention wouldn't be beneficial to her psychological tendencies and not knowing how to control her emotions would be detrimental for her future.”

  “Hello Luxor, how are you?” Dr. Lawson said in a calm tone, nearing her at a slow pace before she held out her hand.

  Luxor tucked her hands under her thighs. She wasn’t ready for physical contact with anybody. Especially strangers. “You’re here from the centre I’m forced to attend?”

  “Yes, but forced it such a negative word. Due to your court mandated stipulations the school and The Renaissance Centre have collaborated to ensure your therapy would be greater enhanced.” She returned beside Principal Wright and held a hand atop the top of his chair.

  “So, less travelling?” That would be a great relief. Having one new room to settle in was bad, having two would be a great feat.

  Dr. Lawson laughed. She held the folder in her hands, her face unchanging as she scoured through the many pages. “Oh no, that would remain. I’ll merely observe your progress on a less invasive, yet more intense level, if that makes sense.”

  It didn’t but who was Luxor to question any procedures that have been instilled. She would be going with the program and be as cooperative as possible to survive.

  Luxor eyed the folder in Dr. Lawson’s hands and swallowed the lump in her throat. She was sure Dr. Lawson had her own copy with all the information as well, but seeing the doctor observe it in front of her was unnerving.

  Dr. Lawson exchanged glances with Principal Wright before walking over to the black shredder and fed the paper through one by one until there was nothing left. With each piece, a part of her past was eradicated, the loud buzzing chomping away as it eased the heaviness in her chest.

  Principal Wright coughed a few times, his eyes starting to twitch. "You must excuse me, the dust particles are horrendous. Where were we?"

  "Dust particles," Luxor replied.

  “Correct." His right eye twitched. He lifted his glasses on top of his head, used the bottom of his palm to rub. "Look I don't care what you supposedly did or did not do, that is in the past," his voice softened. “To be honest, you are not what we expected. All I want is for you to stay out of trouble and above all be safe. Do that and everything will be fine."

  What did he expect? A girl covered in tattoos with piercings all up her ears and nose?

  All Luxor could do was nod. Her shoulders relaxed a tad and some of her anxiety had lessened, but she remained on guard. The combination of Principal Wright and Dr. Lawson unnerved her, both were too nice, and where she had come from nobody, she ever encountered was like that. Even the professionals, and especially to a troubled teen. A whole host of information was at their fingertips, but they chose to ignore it. Glancing over at them, they appeared legitimate, and she wondered if maybe a clean slate was truly possible.

  "Any questions?" Principal Wright asked.

  "No."

  “Are you sure?” Dr Lawson asked.

  “Positive.”

  Principal Wright opened the door and handed her a welcome pack, map, timetable and numerous papers. "Do you need someone to show you around?"

  "I'll be fine.” She raised up and gave them a half smile for show.

  "Very well. Enjoy your first day.”

  Luxor hitched her backpack higher on her shoulder and gave them a short, curt nod. “Oh, and Luxor, if you have any troubles, no matter how minute you come straight to see us. And only us,” he called out after her.

  Luxor left more confused than when she entered. It hadn’t gone down the path she expected, instead it was the opposite.

  Where was the “we'll be watching you?” She expected to be persecuted but now it was as if she had stepped into the Twilight Zone where nothing made sense.

  Luxor squeezed past a few students, and when her body made contact with theirs, it transferred an icy chill pang throughout her veins. She glanced back to see who she bumped into. It was the G.I. Joe wannabes who were before her in the line. They were almost identical—very tall, lanky, and menacing, the one distinguishing factor was one of them had a scar across his cheek. A stunning girl now joined them, but even then, that word wouldn't be enough to sum up her beauty. Her hair was a deep gold, scorching as the burning sun, and pulled back in a tight ponytail which trailed down her back. Dressed in a shimmery gold shorts playsuit, her elongated legs appeared longer because of her six-inch green wedges. Lifting her arms up, she smoothed back the invisible flyaway hairs. Her gold and silver bracelets travelled up and jingled like Christmas bells. But it was her eyes that stuck out the most. Against her alabaster complexion, bright emeralds had replaced them.

  Definitely contacts.

  Luxor peeked quickly over her shoulder before pushing the glass doors open. She wanted to take in one last look, wondering how someone so glamorous could still be in high school.

  The girl's eyes turned to slits and shot missiles in her direction. If looks could kill, she would already be six feet under.

  Looks like I'm not the only weird one here.

  Out in the courtyard
, Luxor surveyed the area. Three blocks, red, blue, and yellow, a collection of Duplo inspired buildings encircled in a semicircle. Scanning the yellowed map, she attempted to pinpoint her exact location.

  "You look lost."

  Luxor turned around and faced the girl who was seated next to her in the office. "Is it that obvious?" She asked, continuing to work out the map. It was a jumbled mess with lines drawn from little blocks and a list of co-ordinates on the side and resembled a long-lost pirate's treasure map.

  "Just a little." The girl giggled. "I haven't seen you around and everybody knows everybody around here."

  "I don't know how I could get lost this school is tiny." She turned the map from side to side, passing it to the girl. "This map doesn't make sense."

  "Ah, there's the problem, it's out of date." The girl cocked her head and scanned the map, pointing to the date at the bottom and passed the map back. "The school has made some recent renovations since then to make room for the others," she accentuated the last word.

  Luxor scrunched it up in a tight ball and aimed it at the rubbish bin even though it was a metre away. A simple flick of the wrist imaging it was a basketball and surprisingly it dunked right in.

  Why did they bother giving out maps that couldn't be used? If they had the resources to make room for the newest additions how hard could it be to construct a new map?

  "Nice shot." The girl gave an appreciative grin.

  "Maybe I should have taken Principal Wright up on his offer of having a guide." Luxor rubbed her temple, the onset of a bad mood coming on.

  "Probably, but you have now saved me another trip to the office. I'm Ayla." She formally extended her hand. "I'm usually stuck with the task of helping."

  "Stuck? Look, don't feel obligated to..." Luxor arced up and moved ahead. It wasn't as if she asked for help.

  Ayla gasped, her complexion transforming into a shade of a tomato. "No, no, no, that was the wrong word. What I meant was Principal Wright prefers me to do it, a-and, and I'm g-ood at helping out, I like doing it." She puffed heavily on the verge on hyperventilating.