Hawthorn Academy- Year Two

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Hawthorn Academy- Year Two Page 10

by D. R. Perry


  So smolder away

  And away from me

  Not close, you said, but

  Closed like an airless

  Space station

  Separatist nation

  Glottal vibration

  I got tossed

  So get lost

  In someone new

  Does it matter to you

  How I can't breathe

  Friends smile, try being cool

  While I see the

  Heartbroken

  Unspoken word

  I could find

  An open mind

  On every street corner.

  And that might be what I need.

  It's not what I want.

  An open heart's more my speed.”

  Instead of just applause, cheers, whistles, and even a few howls sounded from all over the room. I'd only expected a response from my friends. Maybe Noah was right; maybe I had a talent besides manual labor and Bishop’s Row.

  But if so, I'd keep it on the down-low for the time being. Nobody had to know that poem was mine. Insisting on reading my words up there was Noah’s way of telling me I wasn't alone. The territory I stood at the edge of was more well-traveled than expected, and someone who had no particular bias in my favor considered my feelings valid.

  That made all the difference.

  Chapter Twelve

  Aliyah

  Noah went to Hawthorn Academy on his own the Sunday before classes started. He didn't even want Mom and Dad walking with him. I'm not sure what he was up to, but I definitely cared. He'd been quieter than usual since the open mic night. If that poem had anything to do with the state of his heart, I felt for him.

  I had a sneaking suspicion that poem wasn't Noah's, even if it sounded like familiar fare from him. It could have been Dylan's. I wondered why neither of them claimed the credit. Had they collaborated? I tried asking Cadence and Izzy what they thought.

  Cadence just shook her head, saying she felt bad for both of them. Izzy had nothing but disdain for the subject matter.

  "Of all the things to write about, honestly. Romance." She snorted. "Dreadful way to ruin amazing friendships."

  I'd left it at that. Izzy might never care much about romantic love, and that was okay, even if her opinion differed quite a bit from mine. As far as Cadence was concerned, Izzy's ideas could have come from another planet.

  "It's okay if you don't believe in love, Iz." Cadence sighed. "I believe in it enough for both of us."

  Izzy harrumphed and turned her back. The two of them said nothing more about the subject. I hoped they could keep from arguing about it while I was at Hawthorn. Izzy clung to opinions like a sloth to a tree and Cadence quoted everyone, from characters in books and movies to real-life people. The last thing I wanted was to come home from school one random weekend to find they'd stopped speaking to each other.

  In any event, I wouldn't have walked straight over to Hawthorn. I'd promised Grace I'd meet her in front of the Ambersmiths’ dress shop on Washington Street. She said she needed help with her things, and since I'd brought most of mine to campus the day Dorian arrived, I had plenty of hands.

  "Wow, Grace!" I stopped on the curb and blinked at my roommate. "You look amazing."

  "Thanks!" Her smile reminded me of a crescent moon. "I made this myself, and a whole wardrobe worth of other stuff." She gestured at the pile of garment and duffel bags on the sidewalk beside her.

  This was the only time I'd seen Grace wear anything with a skirt outside of the formal dances last year. They looked good on her in general, but the one she had on now was particularly flattering. It had pleats and navy-blue piping that matched the school blazer perfectly. If that wasn't enough, the fabric she'd fashioned it from had a color-changing effect.

  It wasn't iridescent, or anything like the mood rings Mom and Dad laughed about in the touristy trinket shops on Essex Street. In a way, it reminded me of the hypercolored shirts Bubbe showed me in pictures of Dad when he was my age, but the fabric on Grace's skirt wasn't anything so mundane. I could tell she'd used Umbral magic and something else mixed together on the fabric. It moved when she did, apparently activated kinetically.

  "What did you do to that?"

  "My own magic mostly, with a little changeling glamour. Azrael spent a couple of weeks in the dress shop with me, but his cousin told him to get lost after that. Fortunately, we worked on enough fabric together to make an entire wardrobe like this in my size."

  Grace pulled aside her blazer to show me the shirt she’d paired with her outfit. Instead of the threadbare and utilitarian flannels of last year, her blouse rivaled the ones in designer shops on Newbury Street in Boston, and once again, this was a magical garment. It fit her like it had been sewn on, with no hint of mundane fasteners like buttons, zippers, or ties.

  "You're going to be the best-dressed student this year." I hefted a bag, slinging it over my shoulder.

  "Then my plan for school domination will go off without a hitch." Grace winked. "Somebody's got to give Temperance Fairbanks a run for her money. I’ve got plans, but first impressions matter, so clothes are important.”

  “Why you, though? I mean, it sounds like a lot of work and not much fun.”

  “Faith shouldn't have to deal with any more sibling rivalry. She deserves to just be contented with Hal all year." Grace sighed.

  "Sounds like a good idea." I nodded, slinging on another bag to balance the weight. Hal’s illness was terminal, so I agreed. He and Faith shouldn’t have to waste any of their time together.

  "Thank goodness I overheard Alex and Charity last year with you." Grace arranged the rest of her luggage on and across her body. "Their plan was to rule the school and sway public opinion against all the other extrahumans. I’m going to stop them, no matter what it takes."

  "Can I help?"

  "I'm not sure with what just yet, but definitely." Grace nodded. "Probably, you'll spend a lot of time looking otherworldly and vaguely threatening. Easy for you."

  "I'm not sure any of us can really out-mean the mean girl, though."

  "Yeah, nope. I'm going to out-cool the mean girl, then use niceness to get her into orbit." Grace snorted. "I'm Canadian, remember?"

  We laughed our way across the street and around the corner to turn down Essex. Once there, we looked from side to side, searching for the magical migrating door. We found it next door to the Witch's Brew. As I reached to pull it open, Grace stopped me.

  "I want a coffee before heading in there." Grace sighed, gazing down at her shoes. "I'd go to the café on campus, but that'll be awkward."

  "Okay." I changed direction, heading into the coffee shop instead. We got in line, where I shuffled my feet before asking the million-dollar question.

  "Hey, did you want to talk? About you and Dylan, I mean."

  "There's not too much to talk about, at least not stuff I want to say in a crowded coffee shop. But things were kind of weird between us for a while."

  It was our turn, so we ordered our drinks. Nothing fancy for me, just coffee with a splash of soymilk. Grace went all out and got a chocolate cherry mocha with extra whipped cream.

  "You think he’ll be okay?" I sprinkled cinnamon in my coffee.

  "I'm not sure." Grace stuck a straw through the whipped cream. "I feel bad, but we didn't want the same things from each other. It's all private stuff."

  We took our coffees and headed back out again. This time we marched straight through the door into the vestibule, then into the lobby at Hawthorn Academy.

  Last year when I arrived, everything was strange, exciting, and far more awkward than expected. This year was totally different, thanks to Kitty, who'd arrived with her family shortly before us.

  "Mama, Mom!" Kitty jumped up and down, squealing. "These are the friends I told you about, Grace and Aliyah. Girls, this is Mama, and that's Mom."

  The trio of women smiled and waved. Kitty looked almost exactly like her mama, who was pale with ruddy hair and freckles. Her mom had curly dar
k hair, bronze skin, and a pair of golden wire-rimmed spectacles perched on her nose.

  "It's so good to meet you." I held out a hand toward the women. "I got one of your makeup kits for Hanukkah last year, and it's been awesome."

  "I'm so glad to hear that." Mom shook my hand. "And you were worried." She dropped a wink at Kitty's mama.

  "Not anymore." Mama smiled.

  "You came an awful long way to drop Kitty off at school." Grace grinned.

  "It's on the way, actually." Mom adjusted her glasses. "We've got a health and beauty convention to attend in Boston later this week."

  "Cool." Grace nodded.

  "If you don't mind my asking, who's your designer?" Mama gave Grace's outfit an appraising glance. "Obviously, the blazer is the school's, but the rest of your ensemble is quite remarkable."

  "I made them myself." Grace slipped her blazer off and turned in a slow circle, showing off her handiwork. "I spent the summer in an internship at Ambersmith Fashions, and this is what I did with my spare time."

  "This is interesting. We've heard of Ambersmith, but many of their designs seem geared toward an older clientele."

  "That's one reason I wanted to work with them." Grace nodded. "They could use a fresh perspective, I thought."

  "Well, it's clear you're doing amazing things, Grace."

  "Thanks so much. I appreciate it." Grace's cheeks reddened and she bowed her head, reminding me of the day she'd made first defense on the Bishop's Row team last year.

  "Hey, Grace, Aliyah." Logan waved from the stairs. I watched him descend, with Dorian following.

  Kitty's parents made their goodbyes and headed toward the door, while Kitty dragged her luggage toward the staircase, heading up after Logan and Dorian stepped off. I saw that while Logan wore a simple t-shirt and jeans with his blazer, Dorian's outfit would have looked at home in a Shrine of Hollywood catalog. Grace didn't match his goth theme, but the quality and care he'd put into his attire were on par with hers.

  "Who's this, then?" Grace put on an enormous smile.

  "This is Dorian Spanos from Rhode Island." Logan put on the good old Pierce family manners. "Dorian, this is Grace Dubois."

  "Right, Aliyah's roommate." Dori took the hand she offered and shook it firmly. "The one who loves K-Pop, right?"

  "Well, you’re an enormous improvement over Alex Onassis." Grace wrinkled her nose. "Actually, that's not as nice as it sounded. Anything's an improvement over Alex."

  "What's wrong with him?" Dorian raised an eyebrow.

  "He's literally toxic. Poison magus, used to date my roommate. He flunked finals last year, so he's been held back. You're taking his spot."

  "Oh, yeah, the bigot." Dorian nodded. "Logan told me a few things about that guy."

  "Really?" I glanced at Logan.

  "Only a little, I swear." Logan winced. "I figured somebody had to warn him."

  "I'll catch him up the rest of the way." Grace snagged Dorian's arm, lacing hers through the crook of his elbow. "Let's have lunch. I bet we'll have loads to talk about."

  As Grace escorted Dorian to the cafeteria, Logan and I stood there blinking. He scratched his head, and I shrugged.

  "What just happened there?" I tilted my head.

  "I'm not sure." Logan shook his head. “Dating’s confusing.”

  "I cornered the market on that," I said, smiling. "I guess maybe you did too."

  "I might be imagining this, but I think Grace grew up an awful lot over the summer."

  "No, I agree with you. This new Grace has got a purpose, too."

  I sauntered toward the café with Logan, filling him in about my roommate's plans. We stopped at the end of the line, where upperclassmen stood waiting to order coffee from none other than Dylan Khan. One of them turned, revealing a familiar face.

  "I'm not judging, Aliyah, but aren't you caffeinating a bit too much?"

  "No, Darren, I'm good." Noah still avoided his ex-boyfriend, but he wasn't my enemy. "Just waiting with Logan. He could use a latte or three, don't you think?"

  "Perhaps." Darren nodded. "He's been working hard."

  "Yeah, Dorian's a handful," Logan replied. "He's had me running around with him all over campus this past week."

  "If you ask me, it's that gryphon of his." Darren jerked his chin at Dorian's familiar, who’d perched on the edge of the garbage can between the café and the cafeteria. "That critter seems to be all over the place."

  "That's pretty typical of the species." I shrugged. "My grandma says she requires a security deposit for boarding them. What can you do?"

  "Make sure he's in Familiar Bonding for one thing." Logan sighed. "Looks like I'll be back there again this year if only to help Dorian through it. I think his familiar needs it more."

  "Maybe I'll go too." I grinned. "Second-years on probation can opt-in."

  "You hardly need that. I mean, look at the two of you." Darren nodded at Ember, who'd been sleeping on my shoulder half the morning. "Thicker than thieves."

  "Maybe I want to keep my friend company and meet some new people." I sighed. "Also, I'm still on probation. Any good deed will help me in that department."

  "If you ask me, they came down too hard with your punishment." Darren turned toward the counter and ordered a pot of tea from Kayleigh, the café's manager. She beckoned him toward the other end of the counter. "Anyway, I'm sure I'll see you two around the lounge."

  "See you later, Darren." I waved.

  We finally got to the counter, where Dylan stared at the doorway to the cafeteria. On weekdays, it was closed, but on weekends and during school breaks, it was open. It perfectly framed Grace sitting with Dorian, the two of them laughing at a booth over sandwiches and beverage roulette.

  "You okay, man?" Logan leaned on the counter.

  "I'll deal." Dylan's voice sounded unusually flat. I didn't like it. "What are you ordering?

  "Nothing, just saying hi." Logan blinked.

  "Well, hi. There's a line behind you. They kind of pay me to help them, and once I'm through this one, I'm off-shift."

  "No, wait," I added. "Get Logan a triple latte. I think he needs it." I jerked a thumb at Logan's puffy eyes.

  "Okay." Dylan busied himself with the espresso machine, pouring the shots into a cup and adding frothed milk. "Here you go."

  "Dylan, do you want to hang out at the welcome party?"

  "Maybe, but I'm leaving at the first possible minute. Totally worn out. You don't want me around. I'm a stick-in-the-mud lately."

  I blinked, unsure what to say to that, but luckily, Logan had an answer.

  "That's okay, I don't want to watch Elanor parade around either. After they introduce the first-years, I'm out too."

  "Thanks, bro." The tension in Dylan’s shoulders eased. "I'll appreciate the company. Next!"

  We got out of the way so Dylan could finish helping the line. I knew his manager would get back to the counter soon, but for now, we had to let him do his job.

  "What's next for you, Aliyah?"

  "I guess I'm taking Grace's luggage upstairs." I pointed at the suitcase and bag she’d left sitting beside the staircase, then at the ones I still carried.

  "I'll help."

  He grabbed some luggage with me and we stepped on the first stair, calling out the third floor. Once we got to my room, Logan left the cases, saying he'd better check on Dorian.

  If Grace was enlisting him in her quest for cool, Logan and I might end up doing a lot of behind-the-scenes work for them. Maybe I’d like to be in the background for a change. During last year's first two days at Hawthorn Academy, I had been the center of disaster and unwanted attention.

  As it turned out, I was wrong about all of that.

  "We just didn't want the same things from a relationship, Aliyah." Grace held a blouse with mother-of-pearl buttons between her and the mirror. "He's amazing, smart, funny, and athletic, but what can you do?"

  "Not break up?" I slipped one of my spare school blazers on a hanger. "I don't understand, maybe beca
use I didn't even really like Alex. But what do you mean, the same things?"

  "Oh." Grace's face in the mirror reddened. "Aliyah, I'm talking about sex."

  "Like, he pressured you?" I blinked, unable to imagine Dylan Khan leering and looming like boys in movies.

  "Yeah, no." Grace shook her head. "More like the other way around."

  "Um." My fingers fumbled, the tunic I held dropping back into the suitcase.

  "I stopped, of course." Grace sighed. "He wasn't comfortable, I could tell. The first time was that night you walked in on us. I asked him if he was ready and he said no but that he loved me, so I waited. Over the summer, I asked again. Same thing. I realized it just wouldn't work."

  "Oh, Grace. I'm sorry."

  You're not and you know it. March out of here this instant and ask that boy on a date. See what happens.

  "No." Grace said it, not me. My jaw dropped because for a moment, I thought she'd heard the Evil Inside Voice. "There's nothing to be sorry about. Some people just aren't compatible, no matter how much they care about each other."

  "Are you okay?"

  "I'll live." Grace snorted. "I've got outfits to rock, mean girls to outdo. Having something to keep me busy helps. And that you're not walking on eggshells around me."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Logan's giving me the cold shoulder." She sighed. "Can't blame him after I dumped his roommate."

  "I'm not sure that's just about Dylan, though."

  "What do you mean?"

  "His life's a mess," I said, and I told her all about the last couple of weeks.

  "Leaping Luna." Grace whistled. "I understand now why the headmaster's confining him to campus, but it sucks. What's he going to do on Parents’ Night? They showed up last time."

  "I don't know." I moved to the dresser with a stack of leggings. "I haven't asked him yet."

  "There's time, I guess." Grace put the rest of her clothes away in the wardrobe, then opened another bag and started stowing pairs of shoes under her bed. They all looked new.

 

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