Reckless Magic
By Rachel Higginson
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2011 Rachel Higginson
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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To my Daddy, who instilled the confidence in me
To write long before this daydream took form
To Kylee, my first reader and critic, who made
This possible from start to finish
To Zach, who was the first ever to believe
My dream could also be my work
Prologue
Headlights lit up the dark living room, as a black, unmarked sedan pulled into the driveway. A man sitting silently in the corner arm chair lifted his head from his fingertips and focused sharply on the late night visitor.
The man was used to hosting many guests, mostly dignitaries and officials sent on palace business. The guests would come and go with lots of pomp and circumstance, reminding the man that he was a servant. A servant to the monarchy. The palace. The king.
The guests would also come with lots of warning. The car parked out front came with no notice and it caused the man to focus. He wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t worried. He was just curious.
Standing up slowly, he felt the tingling of magic ignite in his blood. They couldn’t disguise themselves, those that were like him. He could feel their presence before they were too close. Their similar magic, like a warning flare, always reminding him of who he was, of who he belonged to.
He expected the worst, the end to a too long life. The house he had made his home in recent years would be perfect for this tragic finale. An empty tomb holding centuries of memories, most of which he would have loved to forget. The expensive but empty house would be perfect to say goodbye to this life in. It felt like his over-lived existence: too large, too old and too empty.
He half wondered who they would send. He wondered who would be strong enough to finish the job no one previously had been able to. This time he wouldn’t fight. He was tired of fighting. He was tired of victory. There was nothing left for him to win. The people he had believed in had let him down. The king he had expected the worst from hadn’t. It was time to give up. To throw in the towel and let them destroy what he was the only one left fighting for. He was ready.
Finally, he was ready.
But as the magic moved towards the door, he was surprised to find it not threatening, but familiar, like an old magic, from an old friend. A friend from a different time and one that he had hoped never meet again because he knew she must be desperate to brave this visit.
“Hello, Angelica,” the man answered the door before the old woman could knock. Her long white hair glistened in the moonlight, and she returned his scowl with a gentle smile and sad violet eyes.
“Hello Amory,” Angelica’s arms were full of something covered with blankets. She pushed past him; his tall, muscular frame took up most of the door way. The cold night of a winter turning into spring blew quietly into the house, but encouraged the man to shut the door quickly behind them.
Once the door was shut, Amory turned the lights on in the darkened house, planning to invite the woman in for the night. The house now lit, took on a different personality from before. What once felt like a stark and empty room, was now warm and inviting with the soft glow of light. A simple burst of magic brought a roaring fire to life and warmed the room, as quickly as it was lit.
Angelica sat down on a large leather couch near the fire. Her arms were still full of blankets and her expression still sad.
“Let me take those from you,” Amory offered, realizing Angelica looked frail and tired under her packages.
“I would love that,” her face lit up just a little bit as Amory bent over to take the first bundle out of her right arm.
As his strong hands slipped underneath a blue blanket to lift the package from her, they stopped suddenly, paralyzed by the soft and warm body underneath. Pulling his hands away, he stared at her with fear in his eyes.
“What is this?” he asked, nearly choking on his words.
“Take a look for yourself,” she nodded her head and encouraged him with tender eyes.
“Who? What? It can’t be,” Amory fumbled through words afraid of what was in either arm.
Eventually he found enough courage to pull the blue blanket away from a sleeping infant, not more than a week old. The little boy was perfect, tiny and soft with chubby cheeks and a thick head of dark curly hair that seemed too much for his little head. He stared at the child for several seconds recognizing his parents without ever needing confirmation.
He looked back to the woman who smiled even sweeter, a tear escaping from one of her violet eyes, making their strange color stand out starkly against her pale and wrinkly skin. She nodded to the other bundle, one wrapped in a pink blanket. Amory shook his head and stepped back.
The baby boy had not scared the man; it was the second bundle that had concerned him so. Several seconds had passed before Amory found the courage to pull the blanket away from the second sleeping child. Almost identical to her twin brother, with chubby cheeks, and dark, unruly hair, she was unmistakably a girl, but with almost an angelic quality and a sweet, small nose.
“It’s not possible,” Amory shook his head again, noticing the tiny buzzing of infant magic swirling around him for the first time.
“That’s what I said,” Angelica held out the baby girl and, shaking slightly, Amory took her into his arms, feeling like the smallest mistake would shatter the fragile child.
“How did they….? How did you….? How did they get here?” Amory stumbled through several half questions before settling on the most recent. Twins did not exist in their culture, or at least they hadn’t in thousands of years.
“Two days ago, Justice came to me in the middle of the night with these two. He stayed for only a couple minutes, just long enough to explain that these were their children, their first and only, that they were twins, and that Delia and he were fine.” She cuddled the little boy in her arms, pressing her cheek against his head gently. “And, Amory, he asked me to bring them to you. It was Delia’s idea.” She stared down at the sleeping child, afraid to look up into her dear friend’s eyes.
Although Amory was infinitely older than her, no one would have been able to tell. His black hair showed no signs of gray, and his matching black eyes were as sharp as ever. She was nearing the beginning of old age and looked it. Her face was wrinkled and hair perfectly white; her hands were gnarled and she showed a lifetime of hardship that she was unwilling to admit to.
“To me?” His voice betrayed the fear he felt and took on the sweet cooing of a gentle soul speaking to a baby. The little girl sighed heavily in his arms as if perfectly content to be there.
“Yes, to you. They are choosing to stay hidden. The children would not survive if they stayed with them.” Although the younger of the two, Angelica’s voice took on a stern maternal quality that showed her desire to protect the two infants fiercely.
“And you suppose they will survive if they stay with me?” Amory’s voice did not lose the sweet, soft tone, but his question was valid.
“They have to. This is a miracle, Amory, an unbelievable miracle. They have to survive for the sake of our people,” Angelica stood, walking to Amory and putting her free hand against his face.
Amory looked deeply into Angelica’s lavender eyes and knew that she was right. The hope he had lost so many years ago was suddenly ignited again by these two seemingly impossible infants. The children continued to sleep in their arms, but made little noises only newborn babies did, oblivious to their surroundings, innocent of the world they were entering.
“Then we cannot keep them together, Annie. They cannot have anything to do with each other if we hope to keep them alive.” Amory looked back at the little girl, already the spitting image of her mother. She opened her eyes at the sound of his louder voice and gazed up at him. She did not cry; she only stared back at the man now responsible for her future.
“Agreed,” Angelica nodded with resolve. “Then we will leave now.”
She covered the little boy again with his blue, fleece blanket and leaned over to kiss the girl on the forehead. The baby lifted her mouth to the human contact, looking for a bottle.
“I don’t think I remember how to do this,” Amory was suddenly swept with a different kind of fear as he realized the child, although necessary to the cause recalled in the old man’s mind, had needs of her own; needs that a lonely bachelor was extremely ill-equipped to provide for.
“I have no doubt that you’ll figure it out,” Angelica reached for Amory’s face again, offering an encouraging smile before kissing him on the lips.
“Where will you go?” he asked her as she walked towards the front door, that she had only just entered.
“Not home,” she said sadly. “You?”
“I have no choice but to stay here,” Amory said with all the malice he was capable of.
“Then what will you do with the child?” The fear in Angelica’s voice was unmistakable. She had made a choice in bringing the children to Amory, and it was too late to change her mind, but regret flooded her veins when she realized the danger she had put all of them in.
“I have a dear friend here that will help me. A human friend. She is young but immeasurably smart and capable.” A sly grin crossed Amory’s face; he felt confident in his plan.
“Ah. You mean she is in love with you,” Angelica watched the embarrassment color her friend's face, but he didn’t respond; no matter how long the man lived, he stayed humble and private. “I will contact you when we have settled somewhere.”
She turned to leave, opening the door and looking out across the deserted neighborhood street.
“Angelica, these children are our only hope," Amory said quickly with more passion than he had felt in almost a century.
“I know,” she replied with determination.
“Annie, wait. Please know,” his voice broke with emotion, “please know what they mean to me.”
“I know that too,” Angelica did know, but it was with a sadder determination that she responded.
The man watched his friend carefully load the child back into the black sedan. Their departure was bittersweet, tearing at his determination to keep these children alive under any circumstance and his unwillingness to have to ever be separated from them again.
If this plan, this plan of survival born in the midnight hours were to work, his resolve would have to be strong. Magic swirled around him, as he watched her twin brother be driven away to safety, not knowing when the next time the siblings would meet.
He looked down at the little girl, wrapped in pink and sleeping again and smiled. There was hope again for his people. There was something worth living for, worth fighting for. And she was the key to it all. She just didn’t know it yet.
Chapter One
“Well, here we go,” I said softly to myself. I took a big breath and stepped out of the car. I gave a cautious wave to Aunt Syl as I watched her drive away. She waved back enthusiastically. I felt anything but encouraged.
I had to go to school, right? I did not have a choice. I was pretty sure it was against the law not to go…. I tried to think of other reasons to postpone the inevitable but came up empty handed. Social suicide…. I was well on my way.
I cringed inwardly, knowing I looked like a hot mess. I could feel my tan skin, turning translucent with nerves, and my unruly, dark hair, tangled and wild as I stood too long in the wind. It whipped around my face in the hot, humid breeze, partially blocking the impending view from sight. I brushed my hair out of my face, but it refused to obey and with another gust of unbearably hot August air, I was forced to walk forward to maintain my sight.
I felt sick and nauseous; I was practically on the verge of puking. I closed my eyes for several seconds and then opened them again, hoping I’d be someplace else, any place else. But I was right where I was supposed to be: staring up at my new school. The tall, ominous buildings clustering together, stared back. Their dark, red brick laughed at me silently, daring me to run away. The central tower, with its golden bell, and deep sweet chimes taunted me, mocked me.
Ok, maybe I was being a little over dramatic, but school had never been my, um, thing. It could have been because I was a complete social spaz; or it could have been because this was my fourth school in two years. Either way, I always seemed to have trouble adjusting to teenage normalcy.
Kingsley Preparatory Academy was a last resort of sorts. Well, really, it was the last prep school that would take me; God forbid I would attend public school. The niece and only surviving relative of my aunt, the doctor, I was destined for a higher education.
If only I could have gone six months without being expelled. Kingsley was the last prep school in Omaha that had given me a chance, and that was only after a very generous contribution from my aunt and a promise from me that I wouldn’t burn it to the ground. Although I harbored no ill will for the school itself, I was not sure if I could keep my promise.
Not that I would burn it down on purpose, but that kind of stuff just happened to me. I mean, the burning down of schools, the flooding of schools, and the infestation of huge, tropical insects of schools…. All fell into the category of been there, done that. It's not like I ever did it on purpose; it all just sort of happened.
So after another deep breath, I began my death march to the top of the hill and the large, brass, double doors that led into the Administration Building. The doors slammed shut behind me, making me almost jump out of my skin. The lobby was dimly lit; it took a while for my eyes to adjust from the bright sunlight outside.
Kingsley was immaculate; beautiful marble floors and elaborate lighting sconces filled the lobby. An intricate, crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling and gave the room a warm glow that reminded me of dusk rather than 8:00 AM. Plush, crimson divans lined the lobby, and oil paintings of elderly people adorned the walls. I reminded myself that this was a school building and not the sitting room to a luxurious Victorian home.
I forced my feet forward and adjusted my backpack straps. I stopped to fiddle with my uniform, afraid to make the wrong first impression. The front counter, located directly on the other side of the lobby was crafted from a beautiful wood, probably mahogany, that expanded the width of the room and stood elbow-high. I walked the rest of the way tentatively, as this was like no other school building I had ever been in, and I'd had my fair share of experience.
An elderly woman, with snow-white hair and small-framed glasses, sat behind a small desk made from the same wood as the counter that partitioned us. Her posture was perfect and her legs crossed properly, as she focused typing at her computer. A name-plate that read “Mrs. Truance” decorated her desk, facing me. She glanced my way from the top of her spectacles and gave a little sigh.
“You must be Eden Matthews,” she declared more as a statement than a question.
“Yes, I am,” I choked out.
“Welcome to Kingsley,” she said tersely. Mrs. Truance stood up gracefully and walked over to me with some sheets of paper in her hand. “Here is your class list and map of the campus. It can be quite confusing, so please ask for help if you get lost.”
“Thank you, I will,” I tried to smile, but she had already turned away and headed back to her desk. So instead, I looked down at my class list and found my first hour of torture to be English.
I shuffled through the papers until I found a map of the campus. Junior AP English was located in the English and Arts Building, which appeared to be two buildings east of this one.
“Please hurry, Kiran. I don’t want you to be late for our first day,” a peculiar accent and heavy footsteps made me turn to see two figures walk through the brass double doors I had just come in. The bright sunshine illuminated the lobby; I was blinded for a moment as the doors slammed for a second time. My eyes took a moment to adjust again.
“Stop worrying; I’m royalty for god’s sake!” barked the second voice with a strong, aristocratic English accent that sounded irritated. As they walked closer, I could see that they were dressed in the Kingsley uniform, and close to my age.
The first boy who spoke resembled a giant; he was at least 6’5 and extremely muscular. Good-looking with olive skin and dark hair, he seemd to speak with an Italian or Spanish accent. He looked a bit rough, like he had been in a fight or two. He leaned toward the other in a strange way, almost as if he was bowing slightly. Although his eyes were a bit far apart, they were deep brown, with glints of gold, and said something about him, but I couldn’t determine what they might reveal.
As I watched the two boys walk closer, I eventually noticed the second one, who was almost overshadowed by his friend until he was nearly five feet away. My mouth dropped open as I looked at him. He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
Not usually the type to objectify men, or even notice them at all, my reaction was almost as shocking as his beauty. He had thick, dirty blonde hair that was unkempt in a way that said movie star. He ran his fingers through it slowly, moving it away from his forehead; I could swear it happened in slow motion. He had clear dark eyes, a color almost indefinable. They reminded me of the ocean, aqua at first; but the closer he got the darker they appeared. Suddenly they were turquoise and shining. A straight nose and perfectly full, but masculine lips completed his face. I hardly noticed anything else as I stared stunned and bemused into his eyes, eyes that happened to be staring back into mine.
“Excuse me, Ms. Matthews; you are going to be late for class if you don’t get going. Can you read the map, or are you already lost?” the stern voice of the secretary pulled me out of my stupor.
“Um, no, I can read,” I said, sheepishly, still unable to take my eyes off the mysterious boy staring back.
“Of course, you can read,” she said sharply, snapping my entranced head back to reality. “Now, get to class.”
This time I obeyed, although hesitantly. I was thankful for my long hair, and let it fall in front of my face, hoping to hide my embarrassment. I could feel my tan cheeks burning with shame. As I started to walk past the eyes that had captured my attention, I began to experience the strangest, but not-so-unfamiliar feeling.
My skin started to tingle as if I were being shocked a million times; my insides began to grow increasingly warmer until I felt like all of my vital organs were energized from the sun. Instantly my blood began to warm and then rapidly heated to what felt like a strong boil. I picked up my pace and nearly ran out of the double brass doors into the fresh air, trying to catch my breath.
It was only the end of August, so the sun was still hot and the humidity already overwhelming, despite the early morning hour. I pressed my face against the cool brick of the building, gasping for air and mentally calming my insides.
I realized that I looked ridiculous, but the physical changes that had just begun to occur in my body were usually a sign of pending destruction. Although I had never been sure of why my body suddenly felt like a giant microwave, I could always be positive that it would end in a great travesty. I pressed my face closer to the brick, allowing the shade of the building to cool me, calming the electrical impulses tingling beneath my skin.
I was officially humiliated by my erratic behavior. I was sure I left those inside thoroughly entertained and confused. I was just thankful I was able to stop the electrical build-up in time.
The first time I felt the electric pulses underneath my skin I thought they were bugs. In the middle of second semester of my freshman year, I thought I had been attacked by a swarm of insects. During gym class, I began to freak out, feeling the creepy-crawly sensation of the electricity building slowly inside of me. I remembered my gym teacher rushing over to my side and then I remember nothing. Supposedly I passed out, but not before screaming something about bugs being everywhere. When I finally woke up, I was outside in an ambulance, surrounded by hazmat guys. Apparently my school had become thoroughly infested with tropical insects, the really big kind. Unfortunately, I had implicated myself in what the school board assumed to be a serious prank, and I was respectfully asked to leave.
After pleading a pitiful case to the next school, I was allowed to begin my sophomore year on the provision of absolutely no shenanigans. I lasted all the way through the year until finals week when I felt the electrical sensation again. This time I tried to restrain myself and get it under control; I wished only to wash the feeling off. Again I must have blacked out because I woke up to find myself in another ambulance; the school had flooded spontaneously. The school board did not ask so nicely for me to leave; but Aunt Syl forced them to give me passing grades by threatening a lawsuit, since there was no substantial evidence that I caused the flood.
Last week, the beginning of my junior year, I started my third prep school, only to experience what felt like my blood beginning to boil. I was warned it was my last chance to finish high school. Unfortunately for them, no one would be finishing anything at that school, since I magically burned it to the ground.
I couldn’t explain what happened to me; I just knew better than to mess around. The powers in charge at Kingsley must have been brave souls to allow me entrance into their prestigious prep school, or had taken out an unusually large insurance policy.
I was just glad I was able to stop it that time. I had never felt the impulses react so strongly. More than a sweeping sense of unconsciousness, the electrical impulses had felt alive, as if they were reacting to something. Who knows what would have happened had I let them continue…. possibly the Apocalypse? I had no idea why those things happened to me, or what exactly they were. I just knew that I was always the one responsible for something catastrophic. And I was seriously hoping to avoid closing this school down for good.
I turned around, so that my back was to the wall, slid down slowly to the ground, and closed my eyes. I was utterly unconcerned with being late for class after all of that; I had bigger things to worry about, like ensuring there was still a class to go to.
I compelled my nerves to calm down, and started slowly to relax. I forced my muscles to loosen up, mentally flexing them. My relaxation only lasted a second, though, as the Administration Building doors burst open. The two boys, from before, exited the building in mid-conversation.
I prayed they would not notice me and crouched even closer to the wall. I could not have felt more humiliated. Although the gorgeous one did look in my direction, he acted as though he couldn’t see me and continued down the steps.
“What are we doing here, Talbott?” the one named Kiran demanded, almost growling.
“Please sir, you know what we are doing here,” Talbott replied, almost too softly to be heard.
“No, I do not,” Kiran snapped again. “Aren’t there any qualified girls in London? This is ridiculous. I don’t even know where we are. This is the ugliest place I have ever seen. I cannot possibly be expected to spend the next two years of my life here. I want to talk to my father,” his voice had almost turned into a whine, but his accent was so sexy that I hardly noticed.
“There are none in London with her pedigree and power. Your father looked. Your father looked everywhere. And this place is called Omaha…. Nebraska. And I’m afraid he will not be moved; this was his idea,” Talbott said humbly but persistently. Although inferior in looks, he certainly seemed to be the more mature of the two.
“This is ridiculous. Where is she?” Kiran looked around himself with such pride and arrogance that I found his beauty quickly fading. Crouching closer to the wall, I could not believe they still hadn’t noticed me.
“Please calm down. I believe you will meet her soon; but we must get to class now or you will be late on your first day,” Talbott half smiled and started walking in the direction of the academic buildings; Kiran followed slowly behind, arms crossed, looking less god-like and much more child-like.
I breathed a sigh of relief and slowly stood up. Reluctantly, I collected my papers and adjusted my uniform, which consisted of a navy-blue, pleated skirt and white button-down collared shirt, knee-high navy blue stockings and of course the classic prep school tie: navy-blue with red plaid. I gathered my nerve and headed in the same direction as Talbott and Kiran, already afraid of the rest of my day.
Chapter Two
My thoughts were preoccupied as I walked into class, not realizing that English had already started until I stumbled clumsily through the door. Not only was I starting school a week later than the other students, but I walked loudly in to a class that had already started…. awesome. The teacher, a skinny, bald man, dressed in a tasteful, navy-blue suit and tie, looked up from a textbook and glared at me.
“Why do I even bother to start class when we’re going to have all of these interruptions?” he said, still staring at me.
“Um, I’m sorry, I’m new,” I replied guiltily, my face turning bright red once again.
“Obviously. Are you Eden?” he asked, speaking through his nose.
“Um, yes, Eden Matthews,” I clarified, just to be sure, but obviously he knew that. I could barely contain my nerves. Usually a shy person, I hated having the attention on me, and at that moment, the entire class was staring, probably laughing, at me.
“Nobody’s laughing at you,” the teacher declared unexpectedly. “I’m Mr. Lambert. Welcome to Honors English. Please take a seat over there.” He tried to smile and pointed to the back of the classroom where an empty desk sat between none other than the two boys I had encountered earlier. Fantastic.
Although I was oddly reminded by Mr. Lambert that nobody was laughing at me, I still felt all eyes were on me as I walked quickly, head down, to my desk and slid in as quietly as I could. I glanced around the room and realized, thankfully, that no one was looking in my direction; well, no one except Kiran who was sitting directly to my left and staring openly at me. I ran my fingers through my hair, pulling it over my shoulder and in front of my face. I hoped to build a wall of tangled curls to separate me from this curious stranger.
I fumbled through my backpack looking for the same book that everyone else was holding but I suddenly found it hard to concentrate. My bag was full of books for every class and the covers all began to look the same. My vision blurred, I squinted to give myself a clearer view. I could hear the lecture, but it sounded far off, and I was beginning to feel dizzy. My breath became quick and shallow; I grabbed on to my desk with both hands, trying to find my bearings.
As if from everywhere around me, I started to feel a wave of heat overcome me. My skin began to prickle again as if I were going through a low dose of electroshock therapy and there was a high-pitched sound resonating in my ears. I could feel my head hit the ground as I slid back out of my desk and onto the floor.
“Good grief, I’m never going to get through this lecture,” sighed a very exasperated voice, I wondered what a nasal-sounding man was doing in my bedroom while I was trying to sleep.
“What did you do? This kind of thing is strictly prohibited, Mr. Kendrick. I don’t care who you are. You will obey your father’s ordinances when you are in my class,” the aggravated voice kept going on and on…. I thought.... just let me sleep!
“I didn’t do anything!” a familiar English accent defended himself. Where had I heard that voice before? “I don’t know what happened to her, she just fell over!”
“Ms. Matthews, Ms. Matthews, can you hear me?” It was the annoying voice again. I could hear him, but I didn’t want to; I wanted to go back to sleep.
Then it hit me. Oh no! I did it again. Well, I didn’t know what I did again, but I was too afraid to open my eyes and find out. Strong, small hands gripped my shoulders and began to shake me roughly.
“Maybe you should slap her,” a high-pitched girl’s voice offered. That got my attention.
“What have I done now?” I groaned, closing my eyes even tighter. I refused to open them and assess the damage I just caused. I also refused to be slapped, I wasn’t unconscious anymore.
“You fainted,” the English accent that I could now identify as Kiran’s said plainly. I thought I could also detect a smile in his voice and maybe something else…. amusement?
“What else?” I groaned again.
“What do you mean what else? Well, you’ve also interrupted my class,” Mr. Lambert’s unmistakably irritated voice replied impatiently. “What’s wrong with you, do you need to go to the nurse?”
I finally summoned enough courage to open my eyes. The world around me was perfectly intact, perfectly as it should have been and I was completely confused. This wasn’t the first time I had awoken in a daze after experiencing similar feelings. This was just the first time I had awoken to things still normal around me. Usually, it was all mass panic and chaos, due to lethal insects or flooding waters, or even scorching flames. Truthfully, I much preferred a crowd of confusion. I was inwardly overjoyed there wouldn’t be mass lawsuits and a new school in my near future.
“No, I am fine, thank you,” I think I was actually smiling on the outside now too, because the entire class of faces staring down at me were looking more confused than ever. If only they had known what could have happened to them; if only they had known that miraculously their lives were saved. I could feel my smile get bigger and I knew without a doubt that I looked crazy.
I tried to push myself up onto my elbows, but was still a little shaky and fell back down. A nervous, almost hysteric laugh escaped me and it was the only sound in the room. I had officially begun my first day at my new school as a freak. A swarm of students stared down at me, a sea of white and navy-blue, with islands of hanging red plaid ties.
I decided to try to sit up again; I needed to move since everyone was still gawking at me. As I struggled, I could see that Kiran and Talbott, closest to me due to the proximity of their desks, attempted to help me. I watched as their arms reached out to grab mine and assist me in sitting up. As soon as their skin touched mine, I started all over again with the heat and electricity and let out a mild scream.
Both sets of arms immediately dropped from mine and I found myself back on the floor, wishing I were dead. I had no idea what was going on, but I soon realized that everyone staring at me wanted an explanation. I wished I had one to give them; one that wouldn’t completely brand me as nuts.
“Maybe I should go to the nurse,” I conceded as I struggled to get up once again. I could see both sets of arms reaching out to help me in another attempt of chivalry and I overreacted a little by shouting, “That’s Ok, I can do it on my own!”
I knew that I sounded like a lunatic, like certifiably crazy; but for whatever reason these two boys were bringing out the scariest part of me and I didn’t want them or anyone else to get hurt. I looked up at Kiran apologetically, but instead of looking concerned for this crazy person, like I expected, he just gazed back entertained, almost like he was about to laugh.
“Can someone help Ms. Matthews to the Nurse’s Office, please?” Mr. Lambert sounded exasperated.
“I can,” Kiran volunteered.
“No, that’s all right,” I blurted out, for fear that I’d faint again. “I’m sure I can find it on my own,” I gave a weak smile, but finally stood up. I actually had no intention to find the nurse, I just needed to calm down and get some space. I grabbed the back of my chair to steady myself, and inhaled deep breaths of air.
“Lilly, can you take her?” Mr. Lambert turned to look at a fragile-looking girl with short, vibrant, red, curly hair.
“Sure,” she answered sweetly. She took a few steps from the back of the crowd of students to wait for me by the door.
I grabbed my backpack, terrified to look at anyone until I was almost to the safety of the hallway. Once I reached the door, I took a brave look back only to see Kiran smile and wink at me from his desk. This had been the most bizarre day, and, unfortunately, it wasn’t even the end of first hour.
Chapter Three
Once the door closed behind me, I headed straight to the nearest bathroom. Kingsley was a school for the privileged; the girl’s bathroom reflected this. The stalls, sinks and hand dryers were all made of the latest bathroom technology and porcelain, I guessed. The mixture of class and technology seemed a little strange, especially in a bathroom. Conveniently, there was a plush sitting room adjoined where I could hide my shame in private.
I plopped down on the nearest duvet, pulling my knees to my chest. I rested my head in my hands and let out an audible groan. What was wrong with me?
“Ugh. What is wrong with me?” I echoed loudly.
“Is there something wrong with you?” a soft, sweet voice asked. I had forgotten all about the girl who was supposed to take me to the Nurse’s Office. I would have rather not had an audience during my impending breakdown, but it was a little late to think up an excuse now.
“It seems like it,” I looked up and gave her a small smile. She was pretty, with bright green eyes and clear, pale skin. She was shorter than me, maybe 5’6 or 5’5, and had impeccable posture; which I was sure, was a sign of her upbringing. I expected her to look back at me as if I was crazy, but to my surprise, she only looked concerned. Her forehead had creased in worried lines and her plump red lips were pressed together in a frown.
“What happened back there?” She sat down beside me and waited for an answer. At least she hadn’t tried to console me by assuring me everything was Ok. We both knew everything was not Ok. She sounded genuinely concerned though, and I was suddenly grateful not to be alone.
“I wish I knew. Sometimes I just, uh, faint,” I knew it was a weak explanation, but I didn’t think she would believe me if I told her that sometimes I felt my body turn into a giant microwave. “I am a freak show; I was kind of hoping to avoid drawing that much attention to myself today…. Or like ever,” I started to laugh; this was absurd.
“I’m Lilly Mason, by the way. And I know exactly what you mean,” she thankfully didn’t ask for more of an explanation, but I was one hundred percent positive that she had no idea what I meant.
“Nice to meet you,” I said with a genuine smile. “Thank you for volunteering to help me. I know that you didn’t have to, but I would have just died if Kiran witnessed anymore of my meltdown.” I rolled my eyes, expecting her to understand.
“Oh, do you know him?” Her question caught me off guard because clearly I was new to this school.
“No, not at all. I don’t know anyone here. I ran into him in the Administration Building.”
“That’s so strange. He’s new today, too.” The worry lines reappeared on her forehead.
“Why is that strange?” I just assumed that he was a student here already. Why else would he offer to take me to the nurse’s office?
“Well, Kingsley doesn’t usually allow anyone to start classes late, let alone three students in one day. I can understand Kiran Kendrick, but why did they let you in?” Her question could be taken offensively, but the way she asked it seemed only curious. Her voice was so pure; and her eyes so innocent, that I could hardly believe this girl could ever have a hurtful thought about anyone.
“I’m not sure, actually. I’m not what you would call the ideal student,” I confessed with a cynical smile, but offered no explanation to my statement. I wanted at least one friend in this place; admitting that I was practically a ticking time bomb seemed like the wrong way to make one. “You said three students, who is the other one?” “Talbott Angelo. He was sitting on the other side of you.” Lilly started blushing as soon as she said the word “Talbott.” Her cheeks turned a crimson red against the pallid tone of the rest of her skin, yet somehow it enhanced her beauty instead of diminishing it.
I gave her a slightly knowing smile. I had barely noticed Talbott, other than his size and stature, yet, Kiran’s blazing blue eyes flooded my memory. I couldn’t help but blush too, as I thought about his perfect features and the way he seemed amused at my discomfort. I should have been offended, or at least irritated, but I couldn’t blame him.
Instead of being offended, I was more embarrassed at my body’s reaction to any close approximation to him. First, I stared unabashedly; then I acted clumsy and erratic. Next I had physical reactions that no one could explain and eventually I fainted. Clearly I needed a class on how to behave in the presence of the opposite sex, which I was sure they offered here at the prim and proper prep school I now attended.
The bell rang in the hallway, and we started to gather our things. I noticed that Lilly was wearing the best of every designer imaginable, which was hard to do, considering we all wore the same, plain uniform. But her book bag was designer, her shoes were designer, and what little jewelry she was wearing screamed expensive. I looked down at the backpack I had carried since junior high and laughed at its, um, wear and tear.
I stopped to glance at myself in the mirror. My black eyeliner was smudged in the corner of my eyes, but I didn’t bother to fix it. I probably had laid it on a little too thick to begin with; I had been in a hurry this morning. The black from the eyeliner nearly matched the color of my dark eyes, making the white of the pupil appear almost neon. I grabbed my pink lip-gloss out of my pocket and applied it quickly, unsure of the reason behind it.
“What is your next class?” Only Lilly's clothes screamed snob,her demeanor and voice were so sweet that I doubted she belonged at a place like this.
“Um, Drama with Mrs. Woodsen,” I replied, looking at the class list Mrs. Truance handed me earlier.
“Oh, good. I have that too. Hopefully we’ll have most classes together,” Lilly smiled again and I could tell that she was truly happy we had the same class. I already felt relaxed now that I had a friend or at the very least someone who didn’t utterly hate me; the rest of the day didn’t seem so impossible.
We left the restroom and entered the throng of students hurrying to their next classes. We joined them, and Lilly took me through a winding hallway to a set of beautiful marble stairs, leading both up and down. The English and Arts Building of Kingsley was another red brick building, but much larger than the Administration Building.
Located on the first floor were the theater and dressing rooms; there was also a lavish foyer and elegant, marble staircase that led up to the second and third floors. All other grade levels of English, honors or non-honors, were located on the second floor. The third floor was dedicated entirely to the Drama department.
Although this floor had many small rooms assigned to storage and props, the majority of the floor was taken up by a large, unusual drama studio. There were no desks or white-boards in the room. The room glowed with paint in effervescent colors: oranges, and reds, greens and blues; beautiful silk floor pillows were scattered around the room. Oriental room dividers stood in one corner, suggesting a dressing room, while various props and costumes cluttered together in another corner.
An exotic but frazzled looking woman stood in the front of the room, holding her hands wide, welcoming us into her classroom. The woman, whom I assumed to be Mrs. Woodsen, the Drama teacher, had frizzy, unkempt dark black hair and leather-like skin that suggested years and years in the sun, as she seemed to be in her late fifties.
She was wearing a deep purple kimono, with vibrant red dragons embroidering its floor length silk. Around her wrists were dozens of golden bangle bracelets that jingled with every small movement she made.
This teacher, who seemed more than human, transfixed me as I took a seat on the floor like everyone else. I had noticed that although the room would suggest chaos and confusion, all of the students entered the room silently and took their respective places on the floor. I sat close to Lilly, not sure whether to be terrified of what was to come next, or excited.
“Hello, my darlings,” Mrs. Woodsen's voice purred her hello. As I looked at her thick eyeliner and dark red lipstick, she reminded me of a cat, or an Egyptian, or maybe an Egyptian cat.
“I understand we have new actors to join this vivacious cast today,” she slowly moved her eyes to mine and held my attention for a few seconds before searching out Kiran and Talbott. I was horrified when I realized they were in this class as well, but as I looked around, I noticed that I recognized most of the students from English were here. “So before we begin our work with the one-acts, I would like for each of these newcomers to introduce themselves and enlighten us on their unique personas.”
I was mortified; surely she didn’t expect me to speak in front of this entire class of people. Not to mention the fact that almost all of this entire class of people witnessed the only unique thing about me already this morning. Thankfully, Talbott stood up first. I tried my best to shrink into a ball of nothing.
“Well, I am Talbott Angelo,” he said in a strong, authoritative voice, his accent thick, making his words run together. “I am new to this place and this school. I come from London with Kiran. I hope to enjoy America very much,” he gave a goofy smile and laughed a little, along with the rest of the class. He waited for Kiran to stand before he took his seat back on the floor. His huge frame seemed too big among the other, smaller-framed girls that had surrounded him.
“Welcome Talbott, we are so thankful you have been sent to us,” Mrs. Woodsen purred to him. She turned her full attention on Kiran, gazing at him until I was almost embarrassed for her. He was not able to look fully at her face and I noticed a light shade of red creep up the back of his neck.
“My dear Kiran, you don’t have to say anything unless of course you want to,” Mrs. Woodsen’s eyes became glassy with obvious adoration. Yuck.
“No, it’s all right,” he forced his eyes up and gave her a benevolent smile.
Kiran cleared his throat. His perfect posture and amazing good looks already set him apart from everybody else; but now with him standing and everyone else on the floor it almost seemed as if we were bowing down to him. Thinking that Mrs. Woodsen practically was, I smiled, and then realized Kiran was looking directly at me.
“Hmmm…” he continued to stare at me, while seemingly thinking about what he was going to say. “I am Kiran Kendrick. I am also from London,” Unlike Talbott, Kiran’s accent was light and crisp, making him sound like the perfect English gentleman. “We arrived yesterday. And let’s see, something unique only to me ….” he was obviously dragging this out on purpose because a mischievous grin began to appear in the corners of his mouth. I found myself impatient with him, despite all of his looks and glory. Then he looked directly at me again, “Well, recently I caught a fainting, young girl, and saved her from imminent danger,” he finished dramatically.
As his eyes locked with mine so intensely, and since apparently everyone in this class had already been a witness to my episode, all thirty voices burst out in laughter at once. The sound was shrill and mocking and I was once again humiliated.
“Quiet down my darlings. I apparently am not privy to the joke, so let us calm ourselves and our inner auras so that we may hear from our last new soul,” her calming voice met with immediate success and all voices became silent. Kiran took his seat, but not without giving another roguish wink in my direction. I now found myself extremely irritated with him.
I struggled to my feet, not nearly as effortlessly as the two boys before me did. I looked around at my seated peers; my mind was blank and my face bright red. The faces staring back were exceptionally beautiful; their eyes unnaturally bright, and their hair unnaturally shiny. They were also exceptionally hostile and judgmental. It was nice to know I had once again been able to isolate and alienate myself just as quickly at this school as at any other.
“Um,” I coughed to clear my voice and found Lilly’s face, the only genial expression in the room. Even Mrs. Woodsen seemed to be eyeing me skeptically. “Um, I am Eden Matthews. I am from here, I mean from Omaha. And I recently fainted in front of my entire first hour class, but I don’t remember anyone saving me from banging my head against the floor,” I finished quickly and quite sarcastically, before plopping down cross-legged next to Lilly, unable to look up or at anyone. I thought for a second that I might come off funny or at least witty, but the deafening silence indicated otherwise. Lilly patted my knee reassuringly, but I was too mortified even to look at her.
“Well, I do hope you are all right, dear,” Mrs. Woodsen eyed me even more suspiciously before turning her gaze on a few students who had begun to whisper. I looked over to see that it was the girls who had surrounded Kiran and Talbott. They stopped talking after receiving the evil eye from Mrs. Woodsen, but all turned to give me a dirty look. “Unfortunately for those of you who are new, we have already started working on our one-act plays, and the groups have already been chosen. I am afraid you three will have to work together quietly on busywork, until after the One-Act Meet, in a few weeks. I will have you grade papers from the younger classes. Please sit in a group behind the dividers, so that the other students can have room to work on their small masterpieces.”
At this point, the entire class stood up and moved into their one-act groups. Lilly gave me an encouraging smile and went to stand with her own group. I picked up my backpack and shuffled slowly behind the dividers. This had to be some cruel joke. Mrs. Woodsen was now officially my least favorite teacher, even worse than Mr. Lambert was. Again, I was reminded that this was only second hour and the day was far from over. I had never regretted burning down a school more than I did at that moment.
Chapter Four
I took my sweet time walking over to the dividers and cringed when I looked behind them and found a tiny sitting area. I stared, mouth agape, wondering how I was going to get through this hour.
Kiran bumped, purposely, into my shoulder as he walked by and took a seat on the floor directly in the middle of the small space. Talbott followed close behind, although he was careful not to touch me as he entered. I was amazed at how quickly my infatuation with Kiran turned into disgust. Had I known he was going to sell me out in front of everyone, I doubted I ever would have found his faultless features so alluring before.
Regretfully I took my seat next to Kiran on the floor. I pulled my knees in as close as I could and disdainfully, rested my forehead on them. I gave myself hope that there was a way to avoid these irritating boys in the hole we had been banished to.
“So what are you?” Kiran asked pointedly. I lifted my eyes and found him staring at me intently. Avoidance was clearly out of the question.
“What do you mean?” I asked dryly. I had lost all patience with him. For the first time I noticed Talbott staring at me, as well.
“What are you?” he asked again, pronouncing each word crisply and clearly. If this was some weird game, I was not in the mood. I laid my head back down on my knees.
“What he means to say is.... which are you?” Talbott interjected, apparently hoping to elicit some type of answer from me; I, however, had no idea what kind of answer they were even looking for. After responding with silence, he continued, “We were not aware of you before we came; are you witch, or psychic?”
My head snapped up in reaction to his ridiculous question. I saw then that they were just playing another joke on me. How irritating. I was speechless, and my temper was slowly rising. I may have made a fool of myself before, but that did not mean these teenage boys needed to continue humiliating me.
“She’s not one of you?” Kiran tilted his head towards Talbott and asked softly.
“No, not in the least. And I cannot get a read on her. Can you?” Talbott responded just as softly. They spoke to each other as if I were not there and my patience drew thin.
“No,” Kiran responded almost as frustrated as I felt. The strangest thing was that they actually maintained a straight face as though they really were serious.
“I’m neither,” I almost laughed as I said it. “I am actually an elf, a Christmas elf. Santa gave me some time off so that I could go to school. He’s such a nice old man,” I rolled my eyes, not just at them, but at myself, I couldn’t believe I was playing their games.
They both laughed a little nervously and looked at each other. Kiran adjusted his sitting position and our legs bumped each other. I couldn’t tell if he did it on purpose or not, but as soon as there was contact between us, I began to feel the prickles and heat like before. It wasn’t intense and my pride promised me I could handle it. There was no reason to panic and flee from the room, at least not yet.
“Where are the papers we are supposed to grade?” I asked Talbott, seeing a large stack of loose-leaf notebook paper in his hand. “Can I have some, please?” I choked out manners, trying to be the better person, although they were making it extremely difficult.
“Talbott will do it,” Kiran answered quickly, without even looking at his friend.
“I would rather grade my share, thank you,” I suddenly felt sorry for Talbott, to have a friend like Kiran, but I shook my head trying to rid myself of the feeling. I needed to remember that he had been just as bad as Kiran. Ok, well maybe not just as bad, but the mere fact that he indulged Kiran put him in the same category.
“Really, Talbott will do them. He’s actually probably already finished,” Kiran insisted. I looked to Talbott but he just smiled. I realized that Talbott was going along with Kiran’s orders happily and not going to hand over any papers.
“Ugh. Fine,” I resigned.
“Your last name is Matthews?” Talbott asked unexpectedly.
“Yes,” I was getting tired of this.
“Nothing?” Kiran asked cryptically to Talbott.
“Nothing,” Talbott responded just as cryptically.
“Do you have any questions for me?” I assumed Kiran was talking to Talbott, because I could not think of any nice question that I would have wanted to ask him. Any question I would have asked would surely get me into trouble. “Eden,” he nudged my foot with his; there was instant electricity shooting from my toes up through my leg. “Eden, do you want to ask me anything?” He gave me another one of his impish grins and looked at me with such intensity that I found myself squirming.
“What? No,” I said with surprise. “I don’t have any questions for you,” I let a little venom slip into my tone, and rolled my eyes again. “Except, why you felt it necessary to act like such an ass before?” I said it before I could stop myself…. I knew whatever I asked would not be kind.
Kiran let out a small laugh, but Talbott started to stand up next to him. His body had become tense and he was in a fighting position. I just stared at him completely confused. I cringed a little and pulled my knees in tighter. The last thing I wanted to do was fight Talbott…. No, sorry, the last thing I wanted to do was apologize to Kiran; maybe it would come to fighting after all, although I thought it was very strange that Kiran’s friend would be so defensive over such a small thing. Maybe they were gay.
“It’s all right Talbott, sit down,” Kiran was still amused, and I guessed it was at my expense.
“She can’t talk to you like that,” Talbott growled. I was amazed at his devotion to Kiran. I found their relationship strange, and felt more uncomfortable than ever. Was he really going to fight me for calling his friend an ass? Truthfully, I could have said a lot worse.
I sat their silently, sizing them up. If they were gay, then the girls in this class were going to have an unhappy surprise, not to mention poor Mrs. Woodsen. Other than Talbott’s overprotective aggressiveness and his obvious devotion to Kiran, they did not seem like lovers. Maybe Kiran was straight and only Talbott was in love with him.
Kiran suddenly let out a roaring laugh, nearly rolling over in hysteria. I continued to stare at them, more confused than ever. Talbott sat back down, but his face was suddenly bright red. I realized he was having a hard time looking me in the eye.
“If she is who she says she is, of course she can. Now calm down, you’re not going to fight a human girl just for speaking her mind. I was rude, and for that I apologize,” his voice turned to liquid and he reached out to touch my hand, resting it on top of my knees.