by Nya Jade
Phoebe groaned inwardly. She hated her singing voice.
“Did I miss anything important?” Hayley said breathlessly, slipping into the seat Phoebe had saved for her.
Phoebe shook her head. “How’d it go with Elmore?”
“He said not to stress. That I’d figure out the Decomp Pen soon enough,” she said, sounding unconvinced. “Hey . . . what’s with the mic?”
“You’re just in time to sing for us, Cadet Corman,” Professor Koon chirped. “C’mon up!” Hayley went very pink and shot Phoebe a questioning glance. “Don’t worry, Cadet Pope will be joining you. We work in pairs in this class.”
Great, Phoebe thought as she reluctantly got up and followed Hayley to the front of the room.
Hayley lowered the mic stand a bit to prevent her from standing on her toes. Phoebe fidgeted with her hands as they waited under the stare of their class.
“I’d like for you to repeat these four notes that mean, ‘Welcome to your first year.”’ When Professor Koon sang, her voice was rich and deep, with the kind of delicate warm tones that stole air from a listener’s lungs. The class could only stare in wonder.
Hayley broke the awed silence. “So is it an instant fail if your voice sucks?” she asked, very serious. Everyone but Hayley laughed. “What?” she asked, looking around, a defensive edge in her voice. “It’s a legit question.”
“It’s not a singing competition, dear,” Professor Koon answered kindly. “Think of it more like vocal Morse code. The notes don’t have to be beautiful, just accurate.” Whispers of relief swept through the entire room and Phoebe felt the knot inside her stomach begin to loosen. At Professor Koon’s encouraging nod, she cleared her throat, opened her mouth, and released four shaky notes.
At the end of the day, Phoebe met Hayley at the lockers where they stored their SIS textbooks before making their way above ground. Outside, the sky blazed with the retreating rays of a setting sun. Tall grass swayed at their feet, and Phoebe couldn’t help but stare at the clusters of leaves on the ground.
Hayley noticed right away. “Oh my God, I’ve totally been doing that since BioE,” she squealed. “That eccentric skinny man’s got me convinced we’re crunching through valuable intel!”
Phoebe laughed and then frowned at her cloudy breath hanging in the air; she’d forgotten her coat in her locker. She crossed her arms over her chest and slid her hands under her armpits for warmth. “I’ve been meaning to ask,” she said to Hayley as they marched down a sloping trail toward the girls’ dormitories. “What’s up with the glasses?”
“It’s my Clark Kent look.”
Phoebe cracked up.
“What?” Hayley said, trying but failing to hold her straight face. “It’s an extra touch to sell my human cover. Also works for sexy librarian, don’tcha think?”
Phoebe shivered while she laughed, hugging herself tighter for extra warmth.
“What about you?” Hayley said once Phoebe had recovered her breath.
“What about me?”
“Is that really natural?” Hayley’s gaze traveled to Phoebe’s bangs.
“Yup.”
“Ever tried to dye it to match the rest of your hair? I’m not saying it’s hideous or anything,” she quickly added. “Just curious.”
“Yup,” Phoebe said, tugging at the thick lock of white hair. “Nothing works.”
“Over the counter stuff?”
Phoebe nodded. “Even wasted hundreds of dollars at salons.”
“Really?” Hayley considered Phoebe for a moment. “In that case, I think it makes a BBS.”
“A what?”
“A bold beauty statement—movie star alert!” Hayley hissed. “Oh my God! Oh my God!” In the distance Phoebe could see Colten walking toward them, a black jacket clinging snugly to his chest, backpack slung over his right shoulder.
“Just be cool,” Hayley whispered, pushing back flyaway strands of hair that had broken free of her elegant twist. “We’ll just stroll by and take a whiff of that sexy air around him.”
At that precise moment, Colten raised his hand in a casual wave. “You’re a hard person to find, Phoebe Pope,” he called out. A smile spread on his face that was so beautiful it radiated across the distance to them.
At that, Hayley gave Phoebe’s arm a sharp tug, whispering, “He’s been looking for—wait a sec.” She stopped dead in her tracks, comprehension dawning. “He knows your name?”
“Yeah. But I don’t know how,” Phoebe said through chattering teeth. Excitement swept over her; she was surprised by how much it pleased her to know Colten had been trying to find her. She watched his purposeful strides as he closed the yards between them.
“There’s a story? I can’t believe you’ve been sitting on something like this!”
“I kinda forgot,” Phoebe admitted sheepishly. And she had. Between navigating the confusing network of hallways Below and trying to understand the conversation she’d overheard, thoughts of Colten had been driven from her mind.
“Are you kidding me right now?” Hayley lowered her voice further, her words coming in a rush. “Homework you forget. You don’t forget living proof that God is a woman with a fantastic eye for detail in—” Hayley couldn’t finish her sentence, swallowing her words as Colten stepped up to them.
“Hi ladies,” he said. Phoebe shivered involuntarily at the sound of his silken voice.
Hayley let out a chuckle, speaking before Phoebe could. “Um”—she batted her eyelashes up at him—“hi yourself.”
When she did speak, Phoebe was surprised to hear her voice come out as a whisper. “Colten, Hayley. Hayley, Colten.” As Hayley struggled for a moment to maintain her composure, Phoebe added, “Hayley’s a big fan—”
“—of your body—I mean your body of work,” Hayley said, snapping out of her stupor, mortified.
Without missing a beat Colten said, “It’s a relief to hear that. I give up a lot of carbs for this body.”
Stunned, Phoebe measured his expression and smiled, realizing he’d made a self-deprecating joke. The same thought seemed to have struck Hayley who raised relieved eyes to his face.
Colten directed his attention to Phoebe, his mesmerizing smile radiating mild amusement. “I think I have something you might want.” He unzipped his backpack and removed her camera.
Phoebe gasped, the memory of having placed it on the bench rushing back to her.
“You left it when you ran away from me earlier.”
Hayley choked on a cough and Phoebe understood the meaning of the sound: we’re talking about this later.
“Thanks. I’ve been looking for that—I owe you.” When Phoebe reached her hand out to claim her camera, Colten’s fingers brushed against hers in the exchange. Her breath shortened. She pretended not to notice the subtle tilt of Colten’s head or the curious gleam in his eyes as he made note of her reaction.
Hayley looked between them and announced suddenly, “I’ve got to go see to something.” And just like that, she scampered down the hill, abandoning Phoebe to Colten’s company.
Colten’s eyes stayed on Phoebe’s face. “Your friend’s funny.”
Phoebe murmured her agreement, staring after Hayley with a glare she hoped burned “traitor” through her back. Turning her eyes to Colten she said, “I’m sorry about earlier. I was late for a meeting with Headmaster”—she paused searching her brain for the name of the Above Headmaster—“Baker,” she remembered, relieved.
“Nothing serious, I hope.”
Phoebe blushed at what sounded like true concern in his tone. “No. Nothing like that.” She lowered her eyes, surprised to find that she’d been unconsciously walking with Colten in the direction of the dorms. They strolled along a path that wound under the canopy of cloud-spearing trees with small ground security lamps dotting the way. A wind carrying the scent of potential rain blew, and, shivering, Phoebe raised her chin to the quickly darkening sky.
Feigning nonchalance, she asked, “So how did you know my name, anyw
ay?”
Colten stopped walking and his expression became unreadable. “You’re cold,” he said firmly, not answering her question. “Take my coat.” Before Phoebe could even begin to decline the offer, Colten had shrugged himself out of the coat. He draped it around her shoulders.
Phoebe half-smiled awkwardly, feeling completely out of her element; Colten’s concern for her well-being took an unexpected hold of her, making her happier than she cared to admit.
“Thanks.” She slipped her arms into the sleeves that were hanging limp at her sides. The coat was soft and warm against her skin with a strong smell that made her think of cinnamon rolls and firewood. Phoebe zipped it up, inhaling its smoky-sweet scent.
“It looks good on you.” He closed the gap between them and straightened the crooked collar, looking rather pleased with himself.
Phoebe found Colten’s nearness intoxicating. Thinking came with difficulty.
“I’ll give it back when we get to Cedar House,” she said, biting down on her bottom lip as a grin spread across Colten’s face. “Or I can give it to you before—I mean, you don’t have to walk me all the way,” she quickly added.
“I don’t mind,” he said. “It would be tragic to watch you freeze to death just feet from your dorm.”
Phoebe dropped her gaze to the dirt path, secretly pleased.
“So,” Colten said, as they continued walking. “How’d your first day go?”
“Good. Yours?”
“It had its high points,” he said. Phoebe could hear the smile in his voice.
“Like?”
“For starters,” Colten said. “The front office told me I don’t have to repeat calculus. And then, there was meeting you. . . .”
Phoebe flushed from the roots of her hair down to her tips of her toes. Her pulse quickened. Did he really mean that, she thought. Or is he this charming with all girls? Without meaning to, she stole a sideways peek at Colten and made the mistake of catching his gaze. He seemed entertained by her apparent embarrassment. Phoebe looked away, gathering her thoughts. Was Colten toying with her or was he being genuine? She decided right then to read him.
She opened her mental gate a bit. A rush of animated emotions spun her head. Too many to belong to just Colten. Phoebe closed her mental gate, not understanding where the heightened emotional output was coming from.
“Is everything okay?” Colten asked.
Phoebe didn’t hear the question. She flicked her eyes around and found the source. It was her dorm. Through the lounge window, she saw a mass of girls watching them.
Colten saw them too. His eyes were alight with humor.
“I guess we have spectators,” he said.
Phoebe eyed the growing crowd. “I’m sure they’re just for you.” She was trying to hide it, but having an audience made her uncomfortable. Phoebe’s hair lifted in a sudden breeze, swirling around her face and shoulders. Quite unexpectedly, and rather absently, Colten reached out a hand, grabbing wild strands of hair with the intent of sweeping them behind her ear. Phoebe stiffened, and just like that, as though it had suddenly occurred to him what he was doing, Colten’s hand fell away and he stepped back from her.
“Have a good night,” Phoebe said, running off.
“You too,” Colten said to her back, sounding perplexed.
Phoebe knew with utter certainty that Colten must be convinced that she had a compulsive inability to say goodbye like a normal person. She hadn’t meant to ruin the mood. She just didn’t want Colten’s fingers to brush against her scars.
“No,” Phoebe whispered.
“I get no details?” Hayley asked incredulously. “None at all?”
It was past curfew, and they were huddled together making their way to the meeting point for the game. The sky was velvet black with stars in place, illuminating the campus grounds before them.
“Not after how you abandoned me.”
“Oh, please.” Hayley smiled teasingly. “Any normal person would be thanking me for the alone time. He obviously wanted alone time.”
“Then I’m happily abnormal.”
Hayley gave up. “You’ll forgive me at some point and I’ll get the scoop then.”
Phoebe held back a smile. Then, she said mockingly, “‘I’m a fan of your body—?”’
“Not another word about that,” Hayley said aghast, cutting her off. “Not one of my finest moments. I’ll admit that. But damn that boy for making my brain go all mush.” And with that they giggled like idiots, trying their best to keep their volume low.
The girls walked past a chain of small ponds along the southern end of the campus and in the darkness came upon a group gathered at the forest’s edge. Phoebe scanned the crowd. Lewis was there and so was Mariko. They stood side by side speaking, an expression of adoration etched plain as day on Lewis’s face. Some distance behind them, Scott, who sported a Ghana World Cup soccer jersey, had just finished saying something to make the girl next to him laugh. He flashed a bright smile when he caught Phoebe’s eye.
A voice spoke, high and clear. “Listen up, pre-cons,” a burly sandy-haired boy said, using the nickname for first year students still waiting to convert. He hopped onto a nearby boulder and peered down at everyone. Next to him, another boy, small and thin, zipped up a windbreaker. “I’m Sam, and this here is Paul,” Sam continued. “And we’re your captains for tonight’s game.” All the students gathered up before them. “For you newbies who aren’t familiar with the rules of our brand of soccer, here’s a quick rundown. It’s like human soccer, except we have two games playing at the same time on the same field. There’s a ground team and an air team. Those of us who convert into birds play above those who are land bound,” Sam explained, looking into more than a few confused faces.
Paul cut in. “Two teams means two balls, folks. The ground team plays with a regular soccer ball. Air team plays with this smaller silver one.” Phoebe watched as Paul spun a ball the size of a baseball on top of a finger. “Like soccer, each side has eleven players. For us, six of those players belong to the ground team and the other five play in the air.”
“The goalie has a tougher job,” Sam said, taking over, “because he or she has to prevent two balls from entering the goal. When a ground player scores, it’s one point. When the air team scores, it’s a three point gain.”
“What! That’s not fair,” a boy yelled from the back.
Sam smirked. “Yes it is, ’cause those guys have to work harder for it. If anyone on an air team drops the ball, they’re out of the game. If they touch the ground, even if it’s just the tip of a wing, they’re out. All right, that’s all.”
Paul reached for a tree behind him. He pushed his palms against the trunk and the tree slid sideways, as though gliding through butter. “You thinking what I’m thinking?” Hayley said, standing on her tiptoes for a better view. She and Phoebe watched as Paul moved more trees to reveal a dirt trail that cut a path through the forest to a clearing ahead.
“That you can’t wait to be able to do that?” Phoebe said awe-struck.
“Actually, I was thinking magic makes even the scrawniest guy look hot, but that works too.” Much to Hayley’s horror and Phoebe’s amusement, Paul turned and smiled in their direction right before yelling, “Let’s play ball!”
They entered a clearing floodlit by a moon that hung just above the trees. Goal posts were quickly put into place amid a rustle of eager voices and low catcalls, while the group was swiftly divided between the two captains, with Phoebe and Hayley ending up on opposing sides.
“Okay blue team, I know everyone wants the action of running around,” Phoebe heard Sam say as she joined the huddle around him. “But, I need a volunteer for goalie.”
“I’ll do it,” Phoebe said immediately, happy for a job that didn’t involve running. For no reason she understood, her feet tended to twist when in motion. The idea of two balls coming at her at once wasn’t appealing either, but it was the lesser of two potentially embarrassing evils.
Sam turned to smile at her. “Way to be there for the team, pre-con.” Phoebe smiled back. “All right air team,” Sam said, rounding to face a cluster of players to his right. “Give ’em hell up there!” With that, Phoebe saw short bursts of pulsating light as five of her teammates seamlessly transformed into splendid falcons and hawks, and took flight as a group, hovering just above them. Phoebe took a breath, braced herself, and headed over to her goal.
A boy dressed in a referee’s jersey walked into the center of the clearing. He cleared his throat and addressed the group. “Welcome to Full Moon on the Field,” he said. “Blue team and red team, I want a clean game.” A whistle blew and the game sprang into action.
Phoebe found herself staring in utter shock from the goal. No matter how many times she rubbed her eyes, the scene unfolding before her was hard to believe. Paul had become a white leopard and charged after Lewis, who was skillfully dribbling the ball toward the other side’s goal. Watching a leopard run down a human on any ordinary day would be a frightful sight, but in the strangeness of the current situation, Phoebe felt only excitement. Her hearts swelled with the pride that came from absorbing the beauty and power in the changing forms around her.
Phoebe saw Lewis make a swift pass to a blue team jaguar who snapped the ball ten feet from the left corner with its bronze head to score the first goal. Mariko, who was goalie for the red team, stomped in frustration.
“One to zero for blue!” the referee yelled.
Phoebe focused hard on the game, trying to keep track of who was turning into what Shape. She ran a nervous hand over her face, feeling the moisture of beading sweat. Ten feet above her, the whirling activity of the air game kept her on doubly high alert. With her attention fixed on the silver ball passing rapidly from one set of talons to another, Phoebe nearly missed the approaching jaguar. The silver-spotted cat swung its tail, firing the ground ball hard toward her. Phoebe dove across the goal, barely managing to block the ball that ricocheted off her back.