by Desi Lin
“I am Matron Aquirre, and I’ve been well versed on you, Miss Embers.” Her voice was as tight as the steel-gray bun in her hair. “Do not think for one instant you will get away with anything here.” Her unveiled animosity toward me gave me a sense of foreboding. “The kitchen is next to the common room, through the door behind the study counter. You will not be permitted to use anything without a monitor present. The kitchen closes at lights out, period. Meal times can be found posted on the bulletin board in the common room as well as the daily chore schedule and the rules and consequences lists. I suggest you memorize both, and remember, in your case, I will skip the first two levels of consequences.”
“Wait, wait,” I interrupted her little speech, “What do you mean I’m not allowed to cook? The other schools let me cook for the whole dorm.” No! Fucking hell! I liked to cook, and I am damn good at it.
“Miss Embers”—the warden’s voice seemed to get tighter along with her face—“I do not care what the other schools permitted you to do. Obviously, they were far too generous. I intend to keep you under control here. When you aren’t attending classes, you will be here, and I don’t mean in this dorm. I mean in this room. Effective immediately, you are on lockdown at the school or here in this room, period. Should you find yourself in need of something you will ask me, and if appropriate, I will send someone to pick it up.”
I stared at the warden, horrified. No school placed me on lockdown before. They usually tried to make me welcome and comfortable, since I lived there for the entire school year. “What about weekends? I’m allowed into town on weekends. I have a bus pass.” May ensured I got one in order to get around easier.
“I expect your pass in my hands before lights out. You won’t be leaving the premises, Miss Embers. You will be dealing with me and me alone.”
No. No way this bitch could keep me locked up here. I may be a fucking orphan, but I will not be a damn prisoner! My eyes burned, threatening tears. I blinked them back. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of witnessing me cry. She turned and started out the door. Her hand landed on the doorknob, and she glanced back, a nasty smirk on her face. “You can try to earn some privileges, Miss Embers, but I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you. Welcome home.” She left, swinging the door closed behind her.
The tears finally got the better of me, and I collapsed to the floor in a heap. Rage settled in my belly as my tears dissipated a few moments later. My stay here would suck, but I refused to allow the bitch to treat me like this. Holding the quiet flame of my rage inside, I pulled out my phone and made a call.
CHAPTER TWO
Morning came far too quickly in my opinion. I unpacked the night before and laid out some clothes. Since I hated living out of suitcases, I always unpacked right away. A sharp knock on my door came as I tied a blue bandana around my short, dyed bright red hair. When it swung open without my permission and short, clipped steps echoed through my room, I knew, it was the warden.
Not bothering with such a thing as privacy, the warden flung open the bathroom door. I didn’t bother glancing at her as I applied some burgundy lipstick. She stormed into the tiny bathroom, grabbed my shoulders and spun me to face her. Her body took up a good portion of the narrow space.
“I don’t know who you called or what you did, you little troublemaker.” She spat the words in my face, spittle flying out of her mouth. “But you’re going to regret it. You might have gotten your lockdown lifted and your kitchen privileges back, but your ass is still mine.” The crack of her hand across my cheek echoed in the bathroom. I stumbled backward from the force of the blow, fear rising from the pit of my stomach. When I lifted my eyes to Aguirre, I found her frozen, staring at me, eyes wide. I trembled, unsure what would come next. Her eyes moved from me to her hand. She flexed it, staring hard in an unnerving way. I scrambled backward until I hit the shower.
“You will learn your place,” she hissed as her gaze found me again. “I will be your shadow, your nightmare.” Her voice sounded different from before. It screeched and squeaked, frightening me more than her physical presence. She lifted her hand to strike me again. I breathed deep, gathering my energy and my courage, then tried to dash around her massive frame. Catching her by surprise, I managed to make the door when a hand grabbed the back of my neck in a punishing grip.
I jerked to a halt as she spoke. “When all is said and done, you will regret trying to go around me. My word is law here. In the end, do you know where you’ll be?” I fought back a whimper at her grip. I could breath, but I suspected she would leave bruises. She pulled my body closer, twisting it to face hers. My muscles strained, pulled to their limit. “Squashed under my boot, like the little pest you are.”
A manic gleam lit her eyes as she laughed. It bounced off the walls as she spun and released me. With very little distance to the edge of the shower, I stumbled, unbalanced, and toppled over the side. My head slammed into the back wall of the shower. With one hand reaching out to steady myself, I clawed at tile, still wet and slick from my shower. Pain bloomed through my head as I fell to the ground.
“You’re going to regret the day you crossed me. A little advice— stay down.” She stormed back out, leaving me to wonder how far she might go because of my challenge to her authority.
Glaring out the bathroom door, I pulled myself to my feet and stumbled out of the shower. Leaning heavily on my hands against the sink, I took in the damage. A ragged streak of burgundy skewed its way across my right cheek, streaks of black ran down my cheeks like tears, and purpling finger bruises lined my neck. An angry burn flared in my belly. The warden might call me as a pest, something to be squashed under her boot, but she would learn not to fuck with me.
I washed my face, reapplied my makeup, re-tied my bandana and then strode to the dresser to change my now damp clothes. Grabbing a pair of torn skinny jeans and a black mesh top, I changed quickly. If I didn’t hurry I would be late. Snatching up my leather jacket and backpack, I began to stroll out the door when I came to an abrupt stop. Going out there with bruises on my neck would raise questions I didn't really want to deal with. Not that I cared one whit about the warden getting in trouble, but I didn’t want the other students seeing me as weak. I knew I should report her, but the types of idle rumors and speculation that might create would follow me until they shipped me off to the next school. Maybe farther. Facts. That's what I liked to deal with. Screw rumors
Sighing I turned around and headed over to the dresser where I set my jewelry box. Little more than a large plastic container I bought at a dollar store, it worked for me. I opened it and dug around until my fingers closed over what I sought. The Native American style bone choker would cover nearly all my neck. Time to find out if the rest of this place would turn out to be as fun as the warden.
A letter with my schedule and school map instructed me to meet my first day buddy in the front entrance hall. Another super fun thing about being the new kid in the middle of the year, Yay! I never needed a buddy on the first day of school before. Usually others as lost as me could use teachers and staff lining the halls to help us poor morons. I figured they roped some poor nerdling to show me around. As soon as I hit the front entrance, no better in the day than last night, I scanned the crowd for said nerdling.
Students streamed past me, the array as varied as any human high school, though the variety tended to be quite different. For instance, the girl down the hall with a tiny whirlwind playing across her hand or the guy who lobbed a ball of water at some other guy, or the flame being bounced back and forth on a guy’s hand. While perfectly normal at Illustratio, those things never happened at a human high school. Elementum tended to be more competitive than humans, though.
The usual cliques didn’t exist either. I watched a trio stroll by, nerdling, jock and beauty queen. All three shared a kiss in front of a nearby classroom, another of those things never witnessed at a human school. Here it wasn’t unusual. Neither was the male couple making out against the nearby wall since I walked
through the front doors.
After locking lips for a while without air, it didn’t surprise me when one pulled back the tiniest bit. A laugh echoed through the air.
“Brooks.” His tenor voice rang out through the hall. “I need to go.” Brooks stole another kiss, and I couldn’t stop the corner of mouth from twitching upwards. So frickin’ adorable. “I’m supposed to be showing”—kiss—“some new”—kiss—“girl around.” Kiss, kiss. “Brooks!”
Now I knew who my buddy would be. Brooks leaned down and whispered something, then spun the guy around and patted his ass. I finally got a good view of them both. A couple inches taller than his partner, Brooks had curly blond hair, tipped in blue, and a downright skinny build, indicating a high metabolism.
My buddy glanced around, and I waved.
Asian, with delicate features, rich brown hair, and a compact body, he took my breath away with his beauty. Especially when a grin stole over his delicate face and lit the dark eyes hidden behind a pair of wire frames. He walked with a grace I couldn’t possess if someone bottled it as a drink, his movements fluid and boneless. I wondered how he looked when he danced.
As he prowled toward me, I took in his outfit. He wore black skinny jeans and a pair of boots paired with a cropped, black leather moto style jacket. A white t-shirt tucked into a silver, swirled belt buckle, finished off his outfit.
“Hi!” Exclamation marks practically floated through the air. “You must be Seraphina.”
A slender, but surprisingly well-muscled arm, snaked around my shoulders, pulling me into his chest. I mentally wiped drool from my chin as my hands landed on the hard planes of pecs. I tried to disengage his hold, but I didn’t expect the amount of strength for someone who couldn’t be more than an inch or two taller than me.
“I’m Souta, and I get to be your buddy today!” The enthusiasm couldn’t be real, right? The twinkle in his dark eyes told me yes, it absolutely could be. “And I need to say, you’re one of the hottest things I’ve ever witnessed walk through our doors.”
His eyes roamed over me, and I caught a flash of pink as his tongue darted over his lips.
Wait. What? Now confusion of a different kind took over. He made out, and heavily, with someone in the hall, which meant they were dating, right? Souta’s eyes left me to glance around the hall, and I jumped when he let out a whistle.
“Looking good today, Elise!” he called out.
A girl dressed to the nines, preppy as fuck, flipped her brown hair over her shoulder and smiled at Souta.
“Souta, don’t you let Ben hear you hitting on his girl, you big flirt!” another, deeper voice called.
I couldn’t figure who said it, but I finally succeeded in removing my arm from Souta’s death grip. He turned his face to me, and I groaned at the question on it.
“I’m not real big on friendly touching,” I said with a smile to soften the blow, knowing I would be delivering a bigger one. He seemed nice, and I already figured him for one of those friendly, outgoing types everyone loved. I didn’t do friends, though. Why bother when I never stuck around for longer than a school year? Besides, he seemed sweet and innocent, and I refused to be the one to burst his happy little bubble with my troublemaker ways. “I know the powers-that-be meant well, but I don’t really need a buddy to help me learn the ropes. One Illustratio is the same as another.”
His tinkling, musical laugh echoed in the hall, “You think they meant well? Oh, babe, you don’t know Scholae Jones. He’s a total asshole. I’m not here to show you the ropes, I’m here to keep you out of trouble.”
“We have most of the same classes, which gives us plenty of time to get to know each other, and for me to tell you all about the wonders of Illustratio Marysville.”
Oh, Elements, he meant it. He snatched my hand and dragged me down the hallway toward history.
Five minutes later found me sitting with my buddy at my back, glaring at Mrs. Kalan sitting calmly at her desk. When I walked in, she glanced at me, informed me she wanted no shit in her class, and told me to sit in front of her desk where she could watch me. I glanced over my schedule to figure out my next class and sighed. History, Math, Genus Studies, Lunch, Science, Practicum, English, PE.
A thud next to me drew my attention. One hell of a fucking hot guy dropping his bag made my breath catch before I mentally slapped myself. Nope. Not happening. If I didn’t do friends, boyfriends sure didn’t fall in my universe. Sliding into the seat next to mine, he glanced at me and smiled, then his eyes found my buddy.
“Hey, Sou. Gossips claim you got stuck watching some troublemaker.”
Okay, with his black hair and molten gold eyes, he might be hot, but labeling me a troublemaker made me hate him a little. A rustle behind him catches my attention, and I notice Brooks took a seat next to Souta.
Souta’s face lit up, “Hey, babe.”
Brooks smiled at him, grabbed his hand and kissed it. The girly bit I buried deep, deep inside, melted.
“Brooks, JJ, meet Seraphina.” Souta’s hand landed on my shoulder, a smirk playing across his lips. “The troublemaker.” A rather charming blush spread across JJ’s cheeks. “Seraphina, this is JJ, my best friend and Brooks, my boyfriend. Oh, and I need your cell number.”
“Sera,” I corrected him, ignoring the request for my number. Why did he want my number anyway?
“Huh?”
“I prefer Sera,” I repeated. “Look, I know you're supposed to keep an eye on me, but I don’t do friends, okay? We don’t need to go that far.”
A loud rap quieted the room, and I fixed my gaze back on Mrs. Kalan as class started. I knew what Souta wanted to do, include me in his little group of friends, or Genus, he never said which. I appreciated his kindness, but I knew it to be pointless.
Once the school year ended, and I moved on, I wouldn’t be able to keep contact. I learned the hard way it hurt to try to maintain those friendships. At first there would be lots of texting, messaging over social media, and daily phone calls. Then, the calls and texts would slowly die down. Before long the calls happened only once a week and the texts every couple of days, if I got lucky. The next thing I knew, a month went by without any contact, and I realized our friendship was officially over. Not something I wanted to go through again.
These days I kept to myself. Lonely? Sure, but not many people wanted to be friends with me anyway. I was the weird girl, the orphan, the troublemaker, and the only ward of the Councilum. My sole purpose seemed to be to fuel the imaginations of my fellow students.
A whisper broke through my internal dialogue, and my ears perked at my name.
“...Hot. And those tats!”
It sounded like JJ spoke.
“Huh?”
“Her wrists. You didn’t notice them?”
“Figures you’d notice the artwork.”
Souta couldn’t notice them with my leather jacket on, but I took it off when we sat down. JJ referred to the flames circling my wrists and snaked up my arms. I got them last summer, with May’s permission, from an Elementum artist she trusted.
“She’s Ignis. We need an Ignis. We ought to find out when she turns eighteen.”
“No one can choose an Iunctura, JJ.”
The deep, rumbling voice sounded unfamiliar, and I figured it must be Brooks.
“I know, but I can hope, right? Come on, tell me you don’t think so, too.”
Only silence followed, and I wondered about the part of their conversation I missed. Obviously it was something to do with me, and a Genus, but didn’t they already label me a troublemaker? I didn’t think I wanted a Genus, anyway.
CHAPTER THREE
Souta wasn’t kidding when he said most of our classes were the same. He managed to drag me to lunch, which turned out as subpar as expected. I tried to keep some distance and didn’t bother to give more than grunted responses to their attempts at conversation. They didn’t give up. Some nagging sense made me believe they wouldn’t stop trying to befriend me
PE la
st period thrilled me. It meant I could go straight back to the dorm to shower. I usually needed one afterwards. PE at Illustratio wasn’t like other places. It tended to be more powers training than anything else. At the end of class, I usually needed a shower to clean off the soot or ash. Fortunately, the instructors took pity on us and decided on a “Human Week”. They opened the track and soccer fields, the weight barn, and the gym. Not being at all athletic I held back a cheer when they said first day participation would be optional.
Instead, I made myself comfortable against the wall in the gym and decided to enjoy the eye candy on display. It gave me the perfect chance to observe the boys trying to worm their way into my life. It didn’t hurt the handful of guys in the class who opted for a pickup game of basketball decided to go shirtless. Okay, in a couple cases it wasn’t necessarily a good thing. Some of them needed to take bush trimmers to their chest. The real surprise came when Souta stripped off his shirt.
Ho-lee shit.
Souta couldn’t be more than two or three inches taller than me with a leaner frame than most guys, but the boy packed some serious muscle. Not the body builder type of muscle, but the muscles in his arms and legs were well defined, and he sported a six-pack. I ran a hand over my chin to check for drool and watched as he practically danced around the other team. Power coiled in his muscles as he played, his movements containing grace and elegance. It reminded me of the male gymnasts I watched on TV during the Olympics. When he passed the ball to Brooks, I tore my gaze away from Souta to observe his beau.
Brooks’ blue-tipped blond curls kept falling into his face, obscuring his vision until he tried to flip them out of his eyes. The move made me smile. One of the guys from the other team ran at Brooks, hand reaching out in an attempt to steal the ball. Brooks’ evaded him easily, flowing around the guy like he didn’t exist. I watched him jog down the court. He lacked the grace and elegance of Souta but his movements flowed, each motion blending seamlessly with the last. Throughout the day, I noticed Brooks rarely talked. In fact, he seemed to prefer to let Souta take the spotlight while he stayed in the background. Brooks shot, but the ball clanged off the rim.