Chapter 17: The Academy
Circus. If I have to describe the scene in one word, that’s what it would be.
There are so many things happening at once that it’s hard to focus on any one thing. I break it down, concentrating on what stands directly in front of me. First, I fixate on the wall of people. Bodies move in silhouetted shapes with blue and purple lights of glowing fog behind them. Bouncing together with the throbbing music, their arms beat skyward. The deafening sound of the music resonates in my chest. I can’t guess how many students are dancing. They’re compacted too tightly with their bodies intertwined, but there are many more than I expected.
Smoke and multicolored confetti float through the air. Three spotlights pop on, searching the space above the pool. Their beams eventually collide, landing on the ceiling. The music slows and segues into an introductory choir of horns, regal in its composition. Every eye in the building looks heavenward, fingers pointing.
Centered above the pool, a swing garnished with flowing green fabric and flowers descends from the ceiling. On it perches Gabe. His silver-sequined jacket sparkles in the light like a disco ball. I’m positive that’s his intention—to be the centerpiece of the party. I don’t understand how he appeared there so quickly, but I assume he wandered there.
Two acrobats, on separate lengthy silk ribbons, slide down on either side of him. Their bodies arrange in dramatic poses. When they reach a level position with Gabe, they perform gracefully, rolling themselves into their fabric and swinging their bodies in a choreographed aerial dance.
Gabe lifts a glittering microphone to his lips. His free hand holds on to the swing. “Hellooo, my little spring chickies,” he coos.
The crowd erupts in applause and laughter. They adore him.
“Welcome to my Super Spectacular Saturday Soirée!” He waves his microphone through the air in an arc. Gabe pushes his weight forward, and the swing sways back and forth.
Watching him suspended in midair, my body tingles with nervous energy. I hate heights. Even watching someone else so high bothers me.
“There are many new members among us this evening. So let’s make sure we all get acquainted. Mingle, mingle, mingle!” Gabe says. The swing, in full motion, seesaws back and forth. Long sheers elegantly trail behind it and ripple through the air.
“And let’s all have a Gabe-fabulous time!” he exclaims, right before he flips himself over the back of the swing and disappears into thin air. Only a ring of sparkling dust hovers where his body once sat.
“Wasn’t that amazing?” Gabe asks, appearing right in front of my face. I jump back a step, sucking in a breath of shock. I look to the swing where he sat a split second before. My eyes fall back to him where similar halo of shimmering dust wraps him now.
“But…” I point to the swing. “The dust—sparkling dust?” I look back and forth between the two clouds. I’ve only seen dust sparkle in one other place—wherever the gang appears.
“Wander dust, my love. The beautiful residue of our gifts.” He smiles and extends his arm around my shoulder.
“Don’t worry, in a week nothing will surprise you.”
I laugh out loud. “I highly doubt it. But if you say so.”
“I do!”
We walk on and pass Terease. She’s positioned herself away from the commotion. With her solid stance and her arms crossed, she reminds me of a bouncer at a nightclub, prepared to intervene if anyone dares cause trouble.
Gabe swings me away from her as though protecting me. “Let’s try to get you acquainted with everyone, shall we?” He pulls me through the crowd and stops abruptly when he finds whom he’s looking for.
I can only see the shapes of people because everyone towers over me. Then, without notice, a silhouette stands before me. I recognize her immediately by her wide, bouncing curls.
“Macey!”
“Sera!” We jump up and down, screaming as we hug.
Gabe retreats before I have a chance to thank him. He seems to be looking out for me, for which I’m enormously grateful.
Macey and I meld back into the crowd, carving out our own little space to dance. I feel so free, letting my arms and body sway to the upsurge in the music from the DJ.
Video images of old movies project onto the crowd. The entire scenario can easily be mistaken for a wild nightclub, the kind Ray and I used to walk past in Miami not very long ago.
Gabe’s a genius. Even if I hadn’t agreed to living at the Academy today, I would have changed my mind after tonight. Who wouldn’t? The school acts as a playground for students, catering to their every whim.
Macey and I dance ourselves dizzy within an hour. She pulls me off the dance floor, drags me up the main stairs, and across the walkway that overlooks the atrium and the pool.
From above, the unified mass of people moving mesmerizes me. Multicolored globes of light float atop the up-lit surface of the pool. So much thought has gone into the details. I shake my head. The party seems as unreal as my new world.
“Oh, I forgot,” I yell over the music. “I saw Quinn. He’s here.”
“I know.” Macey says. Her eyes bulge, spelling trouble.
“What?”
“He’s my Seer!” She smiles wryly.
“Macey, that’s awesome.”
“No, it’s totally drama.”
“Why?” I yell over the music, bobbing my head.
“It’s Xavier.”
“What about him?” Maybe she and Xavier hit it off at his house on Friday, and she doesn’t like Quinn anymore.
“Xavier’s my Wanderer!” she yells.
My eyes are as wide as hers as I process the drama that’s going to eventually unfold. “Oh, no.” I laugh, covering my mouth with my hand. She gives me a nudge of displeasure.
“It’s not funny, Sera! What am I going to do?” She’s serious for a moment, but then she laughs with me.
“You’re Xavier’s Protector?” It makes sense. She’s built in such a way that no one would ever mess with her. Although this thought makes me wonder, who do Wanderers need protection from? One particular group of people comes to mind, and I shudder.
“Yep. Can you imagine having a girl for a Protector? What a blow to the ego!” she says.
“Does Xavier seem cool with it?”
“Yeah—totally—until he realized that Quinn is our Seer.”
I laugh again. I can’t help myself after thinking about the predicament Macey finds herself in. “You poor girl. So many men in love with you!”
•
When I wake up the next morning, my head throbs with a migraine, and my mouth is as dry as cotton. I roll over on the bed and reacquaint myself with memories of last night. After the party, a group of us walked home together. Trudging straight up the stairs to my room, I collapsed, lifeless, onto my bed, not even bothering to change my clothes or pull down the sheets.
Now that I’m awake, I’m uncomfortable. I shake out of my jacket. Shedding it immediately makes me feel ten percent better. I stretch out my toes and quickly curl into a ball. Through one blurry eye, I see that my hair is mashed up into a rat’s nest on one side of my head. Mascara has dripped and dried back onto my face, or maybe that’s drool. My face is sticky either way.
I moan, shoving my head under my pillow.
“Seraphina!” Mona hollers from another floor.
“Uh,” I croak.
“I made brunch. Come now, you can’t sleep the day away!” Her footsteps ascend the stairs.
“Why not?” I say to myself and shuffle quickly under the covers. She’ll have to drag me out of this bed by my toes.
The door frame creaks. I roll over. Mona leans against it with her hand on her hip. She snickers.
“What?” I ask, my eyes barely open.
“Rough night?” She doesn’t wait for an answer. “You’re an absolute wreck.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re very welcome.” She walks over and sits on my bed. “Gabe called. He wants us
to meet him this afternoon so you can see your new maxi pad.”
I giggle, thinking of silly Gabe. The thought puts me in a slightly better mood. Now I feel twenty-five percent better.
By noon, I’ve regained control of my unfortunate appearance and my migraine. It only took two headache pills and an extended hot shower.
I’ve gotten dressed, made the bed, and packed my miniscule amount of new belongings into a borrowed duffle bag. Swinging the bag over my shoulder, I almost lose my balance. Maybe I’m not quite one hundred percent yet.
Still too tired to pick up my feet, I shuffle down the hall and down a flight of stairs to the second floor. Mona appears, exiting a room in front of me. One I have never bothered to investigate. With so many closed doors here, it seems normal. She shuts the door and spins around. She jumps when she sees me.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t see you there,” she says. The moment is awkward—for whatever reason, I’m not sure.
I blow it off. Right now, I’m too drained to be curious about what she’s hiding behind that door.
“I’m ready to go whenever you are,” I say, holding up my duffle bag, supremely proud that I’ve made it this far into my day.
•
We arrive at the Academy. Gabe is punctual and all business when he meets us in the atrium. Mona immediately steps away to get my entrance paperwork at the school office.
“Wasn’t last night amazing?” Gabe flutters around the lobby until I concur with a nod and a smile. His absolutely endless energy makes me tired just watching him.
The lobby overflows with new students and a few parents. Excitement swirls through the air. After last night’s party, who wouldn’t be inspired?
Students stand in line for the elevator. They tug real luggage behind them. Gabe, ever the gentleman, takes my meager belongings and tosses them across his back as we stroll toward the colossal staircase.
Somewhat leery, I eye the statues flanking the first steps, wondering if they’re Animates as well. Slender bronze goddess archetypes in flowing togas hold baskets of lotus flowers and stand on marble slabs.
I step precariously onto the first step, waiting for one of the women to move or make a noise. Then I take the next step. The statue I stand nearest screeches. She adjusts her stance, resting the basket on her knee.
Gabe ignores them and continues to prattle about last night. And I recall that yesterday, the baskets sat at the women’s feet. They have moved since I saw them last.
Gabe rushes back down the stairs and grabs my arm to drag me forward. “Come on, girly. We don’t have all day.”
“The good news is,” he explains, “you’re on the second floor.”
“Great,” I say, indifferent. I’m already contemplating a nap.
We walk past several large murals. Gabe chatters about them, but I’m not listening. I was happy to learn on the walk here with Mona that I could turn my super-memory off at will. If I can’t choose my dreams and thoughts while sleeping during Night School, at least I can during my waking hours.
We arrive at the end of a long hall lined with marble archways. Gabe opens the door. I expect what I’ve always seen of college dorm rooms in movies: small and cramped, with characterless furniture, the kind that looks like sterile office furniture.
“This is your pad,” he announces and waves me through the door. “You’ll share this space with your team members.” He swivels and smiles.
Three things shock me. One: that I will be forced to live with Sam, who, for some unknown reason hates me. Two: my other roommate will be my off-limits, drop-dead gorgeous Protector, Bishop. And three: I’m looking at a dorm room that’s an apartment, comfortable and homey.
Gabe sputters over to the butterscotch covered sectional and rubs his hand on a pillow. “Suede!” he says, clearly overexcited by the fabric. A huge TV faces the couch, and all the latest electronic gadgets accompany it. A kitchenette runs across the back wall; exposed brick and arched windows sit behind it.
“It’s an apartment.”
“Yes, of course. What did you expect? And your room, it’s over here.” He prances to the door in the back corner, opens it, and gestures for me to follow.