Lions and Tigers and Boys

by Tawny Stokes

  Everyone laughed.

  I was astonished as the tiger roamed about the stage and jumped through hoops and rolled onto its back without any encouragement from the trainer. It was as if it wanted to perform. As if it liked the crowd’s appreciative claps and cheers.

  Then out of nowhere a big male lion jumped onstage and vaulted over the tiger. I gasped along with about one hundred others. Without any instruction from Frank, the two animals jumped over each other, alternated going through the hoops, and then ended by bowing side by side. I’d never seen anything like it. I glanced at the girl sitting next to me to make sure she was seeing what I was. By the astounded look on her face, I figured she was.

  I opened my mouth to ask her how she was enjoying the show when there was a loud pop and a sudden flash of brilliant white light. There standing on the stage was a dark-haired man dressed in black and holding a silver and black cane in his right hand. He tapped the cane on the ground three times. The crisp ringing sound reverberated through the room. The spotlights flashed back on.

  Some of the students clapped. Others gaped in stunned amazement. I was one of them. As were all the freshmen, I suspected.

  The man on the stage took a deep, theatrical bow. “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.” His voice boomed like thunder around the room. It commanded everyone’s attention. He certainly had mine. “I am Professor Morgan Marvel, and I will be your instructor in theater and showmanship.” He tapped his cane again. “Your classes with me will instill this: nothing is impossible. With the right energy behind the right thought, a person can move mountains or grow a flower in his hand.”

  He snapped his fingers in the air, then turned his hand dramatically around, lowering it toward the audience. Slowly, he opened his fingers to reveal a single red rose bud on his palm. With dramatic flair, he closed his hand over the bud and squeezed it tight. He swirled in a circle and flung out his hand, opening it, releasing a palm full of sparkly red confetti. Then from the ceiling a whole heck of a lot of confetti fell on top of our heads. Everyone clapped and cheered loudly.

  “See you in class.” He bowed again, tapping his cane. The curtains fell to cover the stage, and the regular lights came on.

  And that’s when I noticed the cute boy sitting in the chair next to me again. I must’ve been so mesmerized by the spectacle I hadn’t noticed him arrive. I gave him a half smile, hoping he would take pity on me, but he stood and promptly ignored me.

  Ouch. As if that wasn’t a blow to my already fragile self-esteem.

  Everyone was getting to their feet, streaming out of the lyceum and back into the hallways. I stood, too, but I really didn’t want to leave. Despite being dazzled by it all, I was scared. Maybe I wasn’t ready to leave home and go to some strange circus school. Maybe my dreams could wait. Maybe I really didn’t need to be a famous high-wire artist like Great Aunt Dottie or a great performer like Mom. Although that was a lie. I did need to. I couldn’t, or wouldn’t, disappoint my mom. I knew she was watching me from Heaven, cheering me on.

  The dean was back on the stage, speaking. “Thank you for your enthusiasm, students, I hope it lasts all year. To help with that, I have an exciting announcement. For the first time in OZ history there will be several spots to fill in the year-end gala, and we will be having a competition for those spots. Not only that, but every student who makes it will get a scholarship for the next school year.”

  There was a ripple of excitement through the crowd, and I was carried away with it.

  “Unfortunately we don’t have spots from every discipline, just room for: Chinese pole, straps, German wheel, contortion, and the high wire.”

  I gasped. I couldn’t believe that I would have a chance to perform during my first year. A slim one to be sure, as there was likely going to be fierce competition, but still a chance I would gladly take. There were some other surprised gasps near me, as well as disappointed groans from those whose disciplines didn’t make the line-up. I didn’t blame them.

  Dean Vasilev dismissed us. “You may return to your dorms for some free time. Dinner will be in the cafeteria at five.”

  I watched as the ginger-haired boy walked away, but then he glanced over his shoulder at me, his hair falling slightly over his forehead and his devastating eyes. And my heart did a little flip-flop. I was pretty sure I was blushing.

  That’s when I felt someone accidentally nudge into me. I turned to see a girl with perfect skin, perfect hair, and a perfect petite frame, sneering at me.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m such a klutz.” The two girls with her giggled.

  “No worries,” I said, swallowing down the lump in my throat. She was smiling at me, but I didn’t feel any warmth in it whatsoever.

  I bit my bottom lip, hugged my waist, and was about to follow everyone out, when a stern voice stopped me.

  “Oh, and Miss Gale, will you please stay behind. We still need to have a conversation.”

  Groaning, I closed my eyes, trying to keep the tears from falling, completely flabbergasted by this turn of events. I’d been here not even an hour, and I was already singled out as the target. Every school had one. And I was it.

  Chapter Two

  Cai

  I tried to move through the crush of people streaming out of the auditorium as fast as I could. The girl-tripping-over-me incident followed me out. I knew the giggles and the whispers were really about her, and it made me angry about how nasty some people could be. Besides that, I really didn’t want to talk to anyone, especially not Maggie and her crew. Their mean giggles had been the loudest, the cruelest, as per usual. Avoiding her over the past month had been like a sport, and at least so far I was winning.

  “Cai!”

  Her voice sounded right behind me. There was no way I could pretend I didn’t hear her and quickly duck into the guy’s bathroom without being a complete dick. Although that was what she probably called me ever since I broke up with her a week ago.

  Defeated, I turned around with a heavy sigh. “Hey Maggie.”

  She smiled sweetly at me, her new minions giggling beside her. On another guy, that smile would probably have enslaved him for an eternity, but I knew what was behind that sparkling white veneer.

  “Are you excited for the new term?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “The show was really good.”

  I nodded, anxious to make my escape.

  She placed her hand on my arm. A gesture she had used constantly when we were dating over the summer. One I had liked at first—what guy wouldn’t want to be touched by a gorgeous, sexy girl—until I realized it was part of her manipulation arsenal. She had the smoldering eyes, the sexy pout, the gentle touch, the girlish giggle, and the breathy come-hither voice. She must’ve made a study of it, because she usually got an A-plus. But not this time. This time I was ready for her.

  “Maybe we’ll be performing together in the gala at the end of the year,” she said.

  “You have to win first.”

  “I’m not worried.” She smiled again, and it made me wonder if she knew something I didn’t.

  Not wanting to be rude, I moved a little, and it was enough that her hand dropped away. She was about to say something else when a shadow fell over us.

  “Mr. Coppersmith, may I have a word?”

  I turned to see Professor Marvel regarding us, tapping his cane on the floor with impatience. He was an imposing figure, taking up more space than with just his large frame. His intense gaze alone could cut paths through crowds. He had yet to change, so he was still decked out in his black tux and tails and flowing cape. He looked a bit like a comic-book character.

  Maggie and her friends threw me a concerned this-may-be-your-last-day-on-earth look, then scurried away down the hall. Everyone was afraid of Professor Marvel.

  “Walk with me. There are too many children around.” He started off, with quick confident strides. I had to nearly jog to keep up with him—and I had long legs. When we were in another part of the school,
on the stairwell that led up to the teachers’ offices, he stopped and looked down at me with intensity.

  “Are you ready for this term? You seemed a bit out of sorts the other night.”

  I knew he wasn’t asking me about my studies, but something else far outside the realm of teaching and learning and school.

  “I think so.”

  “Have you been practicing the things I taught you?”

  I nodded. “Yes. Leander and I work on them almost every day.”

  “I’m not worried about Leander. He’ll do what needs to be done. It’s you who will be in the lead. I’ll be counting on you.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  “You had better be, Cai. I cannot stress the importance of what we’re about to do.”

  “I know.”

  “You were chosen for a reason. Don’t disappoint me.”

  “I won’t.”

  His stare was unflinching, and it made the skin on the back of my neck crawl. Professor Marvel possessed many things, theatrical flair and showmanship were just the surface. There was infinite power simmering beneath his skin, always bubbling, always present. There were only a few people in OZ who knew the truth about him. And I was one. It was a secret entrusted to me at the beginning of my first term because of my heritage, and of what I could do. On account of who I was and what had happened to me as a little kid, I learned just how different I was and what others would do to possess those differences. But the burden of it was sometimes suffocating.

  “Pretty girls are a distraction you don’t need.”

  I looked up at him. “I’m not distracted.”

  “Let’s keep it that way.” With a final hard tap with his cane on the tiled floor, Professor Marvel swirled around, his cape billowing behind him, and mounted the stairs to his office, leaving me with a knotted gut of apprehension.

  I made my way out of the main school building and to my dorm without encountering too many people. Professor Marvel was right; I needed to focus. Maggie had been a distraction during the summer. At first she had been a pleasant one, but after a while, it was obvious that she didn’t have any authentic interest in me as a person. Just what I could do for her. She knew I had influence with Marvel and a few of the other professors at school, and she wanted that in to the inner circle.

  I didn’t think she was a good fit for me, or for the group. She was too devious, too self-absorbed, and too reckless. Those qualities could get a person in trouble, especially with what we had to do. I’d been foolish to start up with her to begin with. But I was a guy first and foremost, despite my pedigree. And she was undeniably alluring.

  But as I entered my dorm and made my way to my room, I vowed that I wouldn’t be distracted by another pretty face. I had important work to do, and I couldn’t let anyone get in the way.

  Then the face of the girl who’d tripped over me filled my mind. She wasn’t as pretty as Maggie; she had that quirky girl-next-door look—more Emma Stone than Emma Watson—but there was something about her that piqued my interest. Her too-big eyes drew me in, and when she’d smiled at me, it reached those expressive eyes. I’d seen the invitation in them. And that made me curious.

  But how did the saying go about the cat and curiosity?

  Chapter Three

  Dani

  Unsure of what to do or say, I stood before the imposing woman. She had a way of looking at me that instilled insecurity and fear. For a full two minutes, she regarded me with her hands clasped behind her back and her chin raised, reminding me of a drill sergeant inspecting her troops. And I definitely felt lacking in all kinds of ways.

  Not fidgeting proved to be difficult. I kept my hands folded in front of me, but by the end of the first minute, I was flicking the button on my wool jacket back and forth. It made a soft clicking sound, but I couldn’t seem to stop. I tried not to meet her steely gaze, either. Instead, I stared at a spot just over her rigid right shoulder where the gymnastic rings hung unhindered from the ceiling.

  “I’m sorry I was late, Dean Vasilev, but my dad—”

  She put a hand up to stop my next words. “Nonsense. I’m fully aware you arrived fifteen minutes before orientation. So, you could have gotten here on time if you hadn’t spent those five minutes sitting in your car, carrying on about being here.”

  I gaped at her. “Excuse me?”

  She put up her hand again. “You have an impressive resume, Miss Gale.”

  I brightened a little at that.

  She continued. “Five years of gymnastics, balance beam specialty, five years of ice-skating, placing first in three out of four competitions, and five years of dance, ballet, and contemporary.”

  I looked at her then. Maybe this wouldn’t be a completely humiliating experience. “Thank you.”

  “But you must realize that every student in this school has a similar resume, some with even more experience. The only reason you are here is because of the glowing recommendation from one of our trustees.”

  Or not.

  “To succeed here, you must be that much more. There is no room for complacency, for laziness, and especially not for tardiness.”

  I opened my mouth to excuse myself again, but the fierce look she bestowed upon me had the words sticking in my throat. If I hadn’t been too afraid to make noise, I would’ve swallowed them, then coughed.

  “Yes, you should swallow them, because I am the last person you should try to give them to. Do you understand?”

  I nodded. Wow, what a dictator.

  “I am no dictator, Miss Gale.”

  “Um, I didn’t say—”

  “I am firm but fair. Do your absolute best, and you will be rewarded.”

  “Okay?” What was going on here? Did I say those words out loud? I was pretty darn sure I didn’t. Definitely not to someone like Dean Vasilev.

  “Okay, what?”

  “Okay, ma’am?”

  “Better.” She gave me a curt nod. “I expect my students to give one hundred and fifty percent at all times.” She looked at me expectantly.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “In this school we have a three strikes, you’re out rule.” She lifted one long, bony finger. “You have one.”

  “But that’s not fair.” I couldn’t stop the outburst.

  “Do you want to make it two?”

  I clamped my lips together, although I desperately wanted to call Dean Vasilev a few choice names.

  “We also don’t use that kind of language in this school.”

  I gaped at her. How could she possibly know what I’d been thinking? Talk about being able to read people. This woman had that ability in spades. Because the alternative, the fact that she could read my thoughts, just wasn’t in the realm of possibility.

  “Now that I’ve made myself clear.” She handed me a large manila envelope. “Here is your class schedule, a map of the school and grounds, and the rules pertaining to your dorm and to the school. I suggest you take extra time to learn them.”

  I took the envelope from her and looked it over. On the front was my name scrawled in loopy handwriting. Danielle Gale, First Year, Dorm C.

  “You are dismissed. Go to your room and get settled in. Dinner is at five, and don’t be late. I’d use that time to study the rules.”

  My hand shaking, I carried the envelope out of the gym and back into the hallway, which was still buzzing with activity. I leaned against the wall to get my balance. Dean Vasilev was a force to be certain—just being in her presence had knocked me off kilter. Not to mention the Jedi mind trick she pulled. She couldn’t really be reading my thoughts; that was impossible. She’d probably been relying on years of studied practice dealing with unruly teens. I mean, she had to have known that I wasn’t happy with what she was telling me. Right?

  Taking a deep, calming breath, I pushed off the wall to face the rest of the day. Now I had to find the dorm rooms, change clothes, learn a bunch of rules, then make my way to the cafeteria all within a few hours. Awesome.

  I op
ened the envelope and slid out the map. After a quick perusal, I noticed that the dorms were located behind the school. I searched for the nearest exit. Once outside, I stumbled on a footpath that curled around the school. It didn’t take long to find the other buildings. You couldn’t miss them.

  There were four imposing stone structures, built in the medieval times, I was certain. Each building was labeled with a letter. A, B, C, D. I was in C. As I followed the path, I had the sense of being watched. Looking up, I saw a face in the second-floor window. The same perfect pale face I noticed during orientation, the one snickering at my distress. And lucky me, I was sharing a dorm with that pleasantness. God help me if she turned out to be my roommate.

  No, there was no way, although I knew firsthand how cruel fate could be.

  Putting the focus back on my feet, I made it the rest of the way to building C. I opened the main door and stepped into a fairly large entryway. There were two rooms leading from the foyer. One looked like a common area, a place where everyone could gather and read, watch the big screen TV mounted on the wall, or study by the looks of several tables scattered around. Presently, there were three girls doing backbends and vaulting off the furniture. The other room appeared to be a kitchenette. I spied a couple of tables, chairs, and a counter that had two microwaves. The stairs to the second floor were directly in front of me, and I mounted them cautiously. They creaked all the way to the top.

  Mumbling a hopeful prayer under my breath, I sought out room 204. When I found it, I grabbed the doorknob, turned it, and went in. The relief was instant when I spotted a petite girl with short black curls and dark skin, and not the icy blonde, sitting on one of the beds.

  When I entered, she looked up and smiled. “Hi.”

  “Hey.” I moved to the other bed, noticing my stuff had already arrived.

  “I’m Anna Hunter.”

  “Dani Gale.” I took off my jacket and tossed it onto the bed.

  “Wasn’t that show off the chain?”

  “It sure was.”