by Wendi Wilson
The walls behind the bed were covered in art, the abstract swirls of color painted right onto the wood paneling, rather than on canvas or paper. My eyes followed the patterns, trying to make sense of them, but it was no use. I couldn’t tell what it was supposed to be, but with splashes of violet, blue, pink and yellow, it made that entire side of the room bright and cheerful.
My eyes roamed to the other wall, where a plain red blanket was wrapped around the mattress. Flannel sheets in green and black plaid peeked out near the top and two fluffy pillows with matching pillow cases were propped up against the wall that served as a headboard.
I looked at Celeste with an arched brow and she chuckled.
“I noticed you were wearing plaid yesterday, so I knew you liked it. The Christmas colors were Rowan’s idea. He thinks he’s hilarious.”
I smiled, imaging the old man slapping his knee the way old men did when they laughed. Somehow, the image didn’t fit. Rowan seemed much too dignified for that.
“Well, I do like red,” I admitted.
With the name December and Christmas for a birthday, red always seemed like a clichéd choice. Not that I had many choices, but if there were any other options in the burn bins when Gretchen took me “shopping,” I would stay away from red and green. The plaid shirt from the day before was my one exception. I’d worn it out of sheer necessity.
“Your uniforms and personal essentials are in that trunk,” Celeste said, pointing to the large piece at the foot of the bed. “I have to get going. Your lunch should be here soon. Relax, go through your new things. If you want to take a shower, the bathroom is at the end of the hall. I’ll see you at dinner.”
“Okay,” I mumbled, feeling a little bereft that she was leaving me.
“December, you’re going to be just fine. This is your home, now.”
Then she was gone. The soft click of the door held a note of finality, like the end of one life and the beginning of another. Whether or not the new one would be any better than the old remained to be seen, but I had high hopes.
Honestly, living in a swamp would have been better than the constant fear I felt when living with the Holts.
I stretched out on top of the red comforter, my body sinking into the comfortable mattress. I moaned in pleasure, never having felt anything so amazingly soft and cushy. As my exhaustion took over and chased away coherent thought, my lips tugged upward.
“I could get used to this,” I murmured before my thoughts became incoherent and darkness engulfed me.
Chapter Nine
9
“De-cem-ber, wake uh-up.”
The soft voice stretched out the words, giving them a sing-song quality that confused me as my mind shook off the last dregs of sleep. I blinked a few times, wondering where I was and why I was so very comfortable.
Everything came back to me in a rush, and I flew upright, my eyes searching out the source of the voice I’d heard. I found her standing at the foot of my bed holding a tray of something that smelled like heaven and had steam rising from it.
“Hi, December, I’m Shaela…Shaela Goodman,” she stammered before taking a deep breath. “I’m your new roommate.”
“How do you know my name?” I asked.
I really didn’t want to be suspicious of her, but she looked like a freaking angel had a baby with a super model and they hired a witch or some other magical being to cast a spell on that baby to get rid of any minor imperfections she may have possessed.
I shook my head to rein in my runaway thoughts. They were downright ridiculous.
“Well,” Shaela said, placing the tray she held on the foot of my bed, “it is engraved on our doorplate.” Walking over to her side of the room, she slouched down onto her bed and said, “Besides, everyone knows your name.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, unintentionally leaning toward the food. “How does everyone—wait, is that meat?”
“Uh, yeah. Are you a vegetarian? I mean, it’s okay if you are…”
My mind blocked her words, the rushing of blood through my ears the only sound I could hear as my fingers reached out to touch the meat. They poked at it, pinched it and picked it up, bringing it to my nose. I breathed in the heady aroma, a groan of longing rattling in my chest.
Unable to savor the smell for a moment longer, I tore into the piece of meat, my teeth ripping it to shreds as new flavors burst on my tongue. A little bit spicy, a little bit sweet, the flavor was so good, I almost thought I was still asleep and dreaming the whole thing. But my imagination couldn’t make up something that tasted that good.
“Jeez, you’d think you haven’t eaten in a week,” Shaela said with a curled lip, and I couldn’t tell if she was joking or really disgusted.
“I’ve never had meat,” I mumbled out as I chewed the big wad in my mouth.
“Oh…yeah. I, uh, guess I forgot you were raised by them.”
The way she said them paralyzed me, like somehow she knew my situation with the Holts and considered me beneath her because of it. Like somehow, living with them had tainted me. And “raised” wasn’t the right word, either.
I’d lived many places in my nearly seventeen years. My time with the Holts was nothing but a blip. A blink of an eye. A time I really wanted to forget and leave behind me. In the past. Where it belonged.
“Sorry,” Shaela said, her voice soft, “I just meant, you were raised without a lot of stuff I take for granted, like meat…and stuff.”
“You meant I was raised by poor people,” I said after swallowing the food in my mouth.
I forced myself not to cringe at the snark I heard in my voice. I couldn’t help it. This girl, my new roommate, was just like all the rest of them. Rich. Haughty. Privileged.
“No! I mean, yeah, they’re poor, but…that’s not what I meant. I didn’t…mean anything by it.”
Her voice started out strong, but by then end of her stammering, it petered out into a soft murmur. I kind of felt bad for making her uncomfortable, but at the same time, she needed to learn right off the bat that I was no one’s doormat.
At least, not anymore.
I was in a new place, where nobody knew me, and I could reinvent myself. I could wash away the remnants of the old December. The weak December. The victim. I could be strong. And fearless. And—
I looked over at Shaela, and my mental makeover cut itself short. She looked miserable, like my reaction really affected her. I didn’t know if her hurt face and hunched shoulders were an act or not, but I realized one very important thing—while I did want to reinvent myself, I didn’t want the new me to be a bitch.
“It’s okay,” I said, my head shaking in a dismissive manner.
“I really am sorry,” she replied. “I didn’t mean to offend.”
“It’s fine. I guess I’m just a little sensitive.”
“Well,” she said, her blonde curls bouncing as she hopped to her feet and bounced over onto my bed, “how was the meat? Everything you’ve ever dreamed it would be?”
I could tell she was teasing me, but it seemed a good-natured attempt to change the subject and ease the tension, so I played along.
“Oh my God, it was amazing,” I said, running my tongue out to lick my lips.
Shaela laughed, and the sound was imbued with genuine humor. She wasn’t laughing at me, she was laughing with me. I felt a clenching in my chest, something that felt a lot like hope blooming there.
I might’ve just made my first real friend.
Shaela remained silent while I finished the last of my lunch, rearranging the pillows on her bed, straightening her comforter, adjusting the glass knick-knacks on her side table. As I watched, her eyes landed on me and then skittered away, like she was trying very hard to not make me uncomfortable.
I let my eyes drift over her clothing, what I assumed was the school’s uniform. She wore a white shirt and pleated plaid skirt with a matching tie and white tights. Black slip-on shoes with a short heel completed the look. I hoped I wouldn’t look like an
idiot wearing those.
Of course, anything would be better than baggy men’s jeans and ripped, stained shirts.
I scooped up a spoonful of something white and fluffy and shoveled into my mouth. I couldn’t stop the moan if I tried, and Shaela froze at the sound, looking at me with an arched brow. I felt heat rise to my face, but smiled through it as I stuffed another bite of the creamy goodness past my lips.
“What is this?” I groaned once I swallowed it down.
Planting her hands on her narrow hips, Shaela’s expression mimicked horror as she said, “Don’t tell me you’ve never had mashed potatoes, either.”
“Mashed potatoes,” I sighed, my voice filled with reverence, before taking another heaping bite.
Shaela’s tinkling laughter filled the room and I smiled. The awkward tension from before was gone. She plopped back down onto her bed, snuggling into the pillows.
“So,” she said, staring up at the ceiling, “you’ve never had meat and you’ve never had mashed potatoes. What do you normally eat?”
I shrugged, licking the last of the potatoes from my spoon. “Mostly beans and bread,” I mumbled.
I braced for her reaction, but she didn’t move or speak. I was thankful for that. I didn’t want to see pity in her eyes, or have her be my friend because she felt sorry for me.
“Do you have to go back to class?” I asked after a few beats of uncomfortable silence.
“No, actually,” she said. “Rowan excused me from my classes for the rest of the day so I could get to know you.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling a rock settle in the pit of my stomach.
Was she only being nice to me to get out of having to go to class? Or because Rowan ordered her to?
“Hey,” she shouted, yanking me out of my downward spiral.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed as she sat up, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Her eyes remained locked on mine as she reached over and slid open the drawer in the small table next to her bed, sticking her hand inside.
“Seeing as how you’ve never really had a decent meal, I’d bet my wi—er, uh, butt that you’ve never had this.”
As she spoke the last word, she whipped her hand from the drawer and something wrapped in silver flew toward my face. My hands flew up to protect my eyes and the object hit me in the chest before bouncing off and landing in my lap.
I looked down, my mouth falling open as I plucked it from my leg and cradled it in one palm. My wide eyes shifted to Shaela, who watched me with a grin, her white teeth gleaming in the afternoon light. I looked back down at my hand, and my head started to shake.
“I couldn’t,” I stammered. “It’s too much.”
It was a full-sized chocolate bar, the wrapper boasting that it contained something I’d never heard of called caramel. I’d never seen the brand before, but it looked expensive. Plain chocolate cost a fortune, with sugar being such a scarce commodity. If caramel was made from sugar, too…
“Don’t be silly,” Shaela said, pointing at her night stand drawer. “I have like six in there and, Lord knows, my thighs don’t want me to eat them all.”
My eyes bugged out. “Six?”
“December,” she said, her tone dropping a few notches with impatience, “just eat it. This school has connections, and we get this stuff by the truckload. It’s okay.”
She waved her hand, motioning for me to hurry up. I swallowed against the cotton that had formed in my throat. I pinched the edge of the wrapper between my thumb and finger and, ever so gently, pulled the seam apart.
A sweet scent wafted into my nostrils, and my eyes drifted shut. I inhaled deeply, thinking that if I died right then, I’d die happy. I’d never smelled anything like it.
“Come on, December, you’re killing me. Take a bite.”
My eyes flew open at the sound of Shaela’s voice. Her blonde waves bounced as she nodded her head, encouraging me. I looked back down at the small slice of heaven in my hands and peeled the wrapper back to reveal the smooth, brown perfection. And I just stared at it.
I was afraid. My whole life, I had built up the idea of chocolate in my head. It was a sort of life goal, to eventually be able to afford to indulge in it. The ultimate pinnacle of success.
What if I didn’t like it?
“Screw it,” I murmured, then chomped down on the bar.
Sweet nectar spilled onto my tongue, creamy and sticky, leaving a string of the stuff trailing as I pulled the bar away from my lips. My eyes rolled back in my head and a groan of sheer ecstasy rumbled in my chest as I chewed. My tongue flicked out, licking away the smudge of gooey goodness smeared across my lips.
My eyes popped open, fixating on Shaela. She bounced on her bed, clapping her hands in a joyful manner. Her green eyes sparkled with delight as laughter tumbled from her lips.
I laughed with her, feeling incredibly euphoric as I took another bite of the chocolate bar. I swallowed it down with another moan. God, it was so good.
I looked at Shaela, my face turning serious as I pointed a finger at her.
“I think I love you,” I said, one corner of my mouth turning up.
She laughed and said, “That’s just the sugar-high talking.”
“Nope,” I said, shaking my head and taking another delicious bite. “I love you, and that’s final.”
She smiled at me, a genuine thing that spoke of acceptance and friendship. I knew, then, that it was official.
I really had made a friend.
Chapter Ten
10
Shaela’s chatter kept my nerves somewhat under control as we made our way to the dining hall at six p.m. We’d had a relaxing afternoon, getting to know each other in the safe confines of our room.
An hour before, she’d swung open the lid of the trunk at the foot of my bed, rifling through it before coming out with a full uniform, including undergarments, I noted with a blush. Her other hand pulled out a basket filled with bath essentials.
She’d hustled me into the bathroom to shower, then, after I was fully dressed, helped me dry my hair into a shiny, obsidian waterfall. I stared at myself for several quiet moments, unable to believe it was really me. I was clean, my hair wasn’t a tangled nest, I smelled flowery and fresh, and my clothes actually fit me.
Shaela dragged me away from the mirror, saying, “You can make out with yourself later. We need to hustle if we don’t want to be late.”
I shoved her arm and she laughed, linking her elbow through mine as we sped down the staircase to the main floor. She kept up a constant stream of conversation as we moved, telling me about the paintings on the walls and the history of the building.
But I didn’t absorb any of it. My mind was on the dining hall. I’d avoided the cafeteria at all costs at my old school, knowing it was a place where the social stratum was decided and solidified…with me always positioned at the very bottom.
I wondered if it would be different at Oberon Academy. I hoped it would.
That hope was snatched right out of my clutching fingers as soon as we walked into the room.
Just like earlier, as soon as Shaela and I entered, the place fell into an eerie silence. All eyes were on me…some curious, some narrowed with what looked like suspicion. Most were filled with disdain, like they couldn’t believe their prestigious school had let a scoundrel like me into its hallowed halls.
After what felt like a million years, Shaela tugged on my elbow, pulling me forward. The buzz of conversation slowly filled the room once more, but I forced my eyes to remain on my feet as I walked. I didn’t want to stumble and embarrass myself. I also didn’t want to meet the eyes I could still feel burning into my skin.
“Can we go eat somewhere else?” I asked, leaning in close to Shaela so she’d hear my whisper.
In answer, she pulled out a chair and pushed me into it before sliding into the seat next to me. I wasn’t sure if anyone else sat nearby, and I refused to look up long enough to check. I stared at the place setting in front of me. A plat
e, silverware, a white cloth napkin with sharp creases, all set upon a dark gold tablecloth.
I felt Shaela’s breath on my ear as she leaned in, speaking in hushed tones, “You can’t show any fear, December. Sit up straight, look them in the eye.”
I found myself obeying her, despite my trepidation. I was scared out of my mind, but she was right. If I showed signs of fear on the first day, I’d end up being perceived as an easy target, and I’d already decided that Oberon Academy was going to be a fresh start for me. I straightened my shoulders and lifted my head, intending to scan the room around me.
My eyes instantly met a pair of silver blue ones and moved no further. It was the boy from the hall earlier, the one that speared me with his icy gaze and left me feeling judged. I wanted to see if his white-blonde hair was just as disheveled as before, but I couldn’t seem to break the eye contact. I felt trapped. Compelled. Like he was taking a peek at my soul through the windows of my eyes.
Then something stole his attention, making him look to the side, and the spell was broken. A harsh breath shuddered through me as my eyes flitted around the room, checking to see if anyone had noticed my staring contest with the strange boy.
I met a few gazes that snapped in other directions, but no one was pointing or laughing, so that was good. A bump on my arm drew my attention to Shaela, who pointed down at my plate. The dish was loaded with food—some kind of crispy looking meat, some long green beans, and more of the fluffy white mashed potatoes.
My head jerked to Shaela, who nodded to her left. Someone dressed in black pants and a white shirt was walking down the row, dishing the potatoes onto students’ plates. A quick glance around showed me there were others, each serving a different portion of the meal.
How many servers had come by while I was staring at the boy? At least three. It seemed like only a few seconds had passed. My back shivered and I rolled my shoulders against the feeling.