by Kristen Day
About thirty miles later, we arrived in the small town of Southport. Small boutiques and coffee shops lined the main road; tourists wove in and out of the stores. I tried to reign in my hair that was smacking me in the face, as Kira took the right turn toward the Deep Point Marina. The ferry that would be taking us to the island ran every hour during the day and even at night. From what the pamphlet had said, it was about two miles from Southport to Bald Head Island, which amounted to a twenty minute ferry ride. We parked the jeep, bought our tickets and got in line. Waiting with us were families weighed down with beach toys and luggage, couples standing close or holding hands, and several younger girls wearing matching t-shirts with Ebb & Flo’s Oyster Bar and Restaurant written on the back. A bar for just oysters? If my memory served me right, oysters were slimy, salty little aliens that came in their original shells. I remembered trying one when we went to Savannah for St. Patrick’s Day. It only lasted about two seconds in my mouth before I spit it out in my napkin.
From then on, I vowed to stick to fish and shrimp.
A horn blared and the ferry slowly docked beside the boardwalk. Workers jumped in to action as they removed luggage and trunks, sending them down a ramp and onto a moving belt. The ferry itself was bigger than I expected and packed with visitors leaving the island for the night. They were all windblown and giddy. I couldn’t help smiling at them as they filed off the boat. A little boy walked by with his dad and waved shyly at us. He was holding a stuffed sea turtle tightly in his arms, but what I noticed first was the red beach bucket he was wearing as a hat. It was in the shape of a sandcastle and sat a little lopsided. I waved back and silently mourned my own childhood void of happy memories.
“Time to go!” Kira clutched my hand with excitement. We traversed the skinny ramp on to the deck and found seat at the back of the boat. Never having been on a boat, I was apprehensive, but still excited about the new experience. The ferry gently swayed back and forth as the rest of the passengers boarded. I watched a lanky crane glide above and land on one of the pylons nearby. It stood perfectly still on one leg looking for fish to snag up out of the water. Several minutes later, the ferry’s engine roared to life and a nervous shiver ran down my spine. We inched forward, turned left gradually, and made our way past the two pylons, exiting the marina. As the ferry passed by the crane’s perch, I watched in awe, as it extended its massive wings and took to the sky.
“Look!” Kira called above the engine and the wind, “That’s Southport over there to our right,” A small wooden pier stretched out into the water, while the same shops and boutiques I had seen before were visible farther back. A couple of minutes later we made a slow left turn and she pointed again.
“And that’s Fort Caswell on the very end of Oak Island,” she informed me. The walls of the fort were overgrown with layers of vines and moss, but it was still a majestic sight. As we rounded the point, the full grandeur of the sun setting over the Atlantic Ocean came into view. I carefully stood up on the rocking deck and made my way to the side of the ferry to get a better view. Striking shades of orange, red, and yellow lit up the sky and reflected off the water. It was magnificent.
“You know, if you look over the side, sometimes you can see dolphins swimming next to the ferry.” Kira had come to stand beside me.
“Really?” I leaned over the side, precariously, holding on tightly to the railing…just in time for the ferry to run over the wake from a passing boat. A wall of salt water sprayed up, hitting me square in the face. I tumbled backwards and fell against Kira.
“Aren’t the dolphins just beautiful?!” She doubled over with laughter, while I tried to dry my face. I crossed my arms over my chest and tapped my foot at her. Finally, she got a hold of herself and looked up at me. Another bout of laughter overtook her body, as she held onto the railing to keep her balance.
“That was so not funny!” I giggled and gave her shoulder a little shove. “You did that on purpose!” My hair and face were completely soaked. She moved towards me in an attempt to console me, so I took that opportunity to shake my hair out and spray her with pellets of water. She shrieked and took off towards the back of the boat. We fell into our seats laughing and wiping water off of our bodies. I wasn’t usually this gullible, so I decided to keep a watchful eye on Kira. It did feel good to have a little fun without being reminded I needed to ‘act like a lady’. My wet hair and clothes would have given Dee a coronary.
Eventually another piece of land came into view up ahead. I looked at Kira and she promptly announced, “There she is! Old Baldy!”
“Old Baldy?” I raised an eyebrow.
“The lighthouse! It’s called Old Baldy.” I spotted a weathered, stone lighthouse rising up over the vacation homes and trees. The ferry maneuvered into a small marina dotted with sailboats, fishing boats, and one very large yacht. We parked beside the boardwalk, and I felt the ferry crawl to a stop.
The horn sounded again and we descended the exit ramp, following the rest of the passengers along the boardwalk. Up ahead, Ebb and Flo’s Oyster Bar and Restaurant welcomed the newcomers, as well as several other buildings housing souvenir shops and golf cart rentals.
“So there are no cars on the island at all?” I asked Kira, even though I already knew the answer.
“Nope, only golf carts – even the roads are golf cart size! But we aren’t renting one; we need to go this way.” She ushered me down a sidewalk and through a small chain link fence. “The school has its own fleet. We keep some here and the rest are back on school grounds.” One long row of golf carts stretched out before us. They weren’t your normal golf carts however…these were black, sleek, and sitting on fat beach tires. The emblem for the House of Lorelei was on each side. It was made up of a simple circle containing swooping letter ‘L’. We climbed into the first cart in the row and Kira stomped on the gas pedal, throwing me against the back of the seat. I searched around for a seat belt.
The absence of doors in addition to Kira’s questionable driving skills didn’t do much for my quickly building anxiety.
We zipped down the road heading east. Families riding bikes and vacationers in other golf carts waved as we passed. Bald Head Island sat between the Cape Fear River and the Atlantic Ocean.
The island’s western side housed the marina, shops and the lighthouse, while the southern side was the most populated, boasting sprawling vacation homes and beautiful beaches. The northern section of the island was made up of marshland and largely uninhabitable. The House of Lorelei was located on the eastern side, facing the Atlantic Ocean. The entire island was full of lush trees and plant life, with the most prevalent being the live oak tree. Many years of constant wind had twisted and mangled their branches, forging works of art that stretched over the road, creating an enchanting canopy of green.
The skin on my wrist began tingling and I glanced down to see if there was something crawling on me. Instead, I noticed my trace was not only still shimmering; it had started to change colors, as well. The once black lines were now a silvery blue. Fortunately, my bewilderment was quickly interrupted by the huge ornate, iron gate we were now stopped in front of. Unless you were directly in front of it, you could easily miss the school’s entrance. Ivy and moss twisted around and over the gate making it look as much a part of the landscape as the live oaks. Beneath the overgrowth, the House of Lorelei emblem adorned both sides of the iron bars. My stomach began doing flip-flops in anticipation. Ever so slowly, the gate swung inward and we drove onto the school grounds.
Once we were clear of the gate, Kira hit the gas again and I held on for dear life for another half mile or so. Gray stone walls lined the road, weathered by wind and time. The campus of the House of Lorelei unfolded before us, as we rounded a sharp corner. Buildings made of the same weathered gray stone stood on every side of us, appearing very gothic in the hooded light of the setting sun. We came to an abrupt halt in front of a two story building, and Kira motioned for me to follow her in.
“Before I take you
to Maren Hall where you’ll be living, we need to take care of a couple minor details,” she explained. Once inside, we entered a small office labeled ‘Kira Baylor’.
“Okay. Let’s see, let’s see…” She shuffled through some papers on her desk, “Here’s your meal card; it works all over the island, not just on campus. And here’s the key to the suite you’ll be sharing with your new roommates.” She handed me a black debit card and a small manila envelope with a key inside. She produced several blank forms and began filling them out.
“The name ‘Hannah Elizabeth Whitman’ was given to you by the state of Georgia, correct?”
“Just the ‘Hannah Elizabeth’ part. ‘Whitman’ came from my adoptive family,” I clarified. As she continued filling out more information, I got an idea. If I was going to be starting a new beginning, I might as well make it official.
“So, if a person wanted to change their name now that they are beginning a new school and have the rare opportunity to recreate themselves…as it were…would that be an option?” I asked hesitantly.
She looked up and smiled knowingly. “And what would said person want to change their name to?” Only one name came to mind.
“Anastasia.”
She gave me an odd look and quickly directed her gaze back down to the paper. “Okay, Anastasia,” She put emphasis on my new first name and scribbled something down on the form.
“Name officially changed. Now let’s go introduce you to your new suitemates!”
Back in the golf cart, we passed several more gray stone buildings and turned onto a cobblestone street lined with little shops on either side. The golf cart’s large beach tires had us bouncing around like a demented carnival ride. By the time the shops ran out and the road changed back to smooth pavement, we were both laughing hysterically.
“Normally we don’t drive down that section,” Kira explained sheepishly, as she wiped a couple of happy tears from her cheek. “But sometimes it’s just fun to do.” Several looming buildings to my right caught my attention.
“Here we are!” I looked up in wonder at a seven story building, resembling a medieval beach resort. The constant roar of the ocean greeted me as we walked up the stone steps of Maren Hall. The strong smell of sea grass filled my nose and the warm nighttime air tickled my skin, as it swirled around me. The gothic feel of the exterior stopped abruptly at the front doors. The extensive lobby was filled with large, overflowing brown leather couches and chairs. Flat screen TV’s hung on several of the walls and an enormous fish tank was set into the wall on my left, exotic-looking fish cruising along its length. Straight ahead, more doors led out to blackness. Kira’s eyes followed mine.
“Maren is one of the two oceanfront halls. The other is Rostrum Hall next door, which is one of the guy’s halls.” This was too good to believe. My new home would be oceanfront? I could count on one hand the number of times I’d been to the beach and now I’d be living on it!
We rode a sleek elevator to the third floor and came to a stop at a normal-looking door labeled 327. Kira knocked three times and I heard a pair of feet running towards us.
Chapter 6
The door flew open and a petite girl with chunky layers of red, blonde, and brown hair stood before us. “Hey Kira!” Not waiting on an answer, she turned her attention to me, “And you must be our new roomie! Willow! Carmen! She’s here!” She wrapped me in a bear hug, and then motioned for us to come inside. Two more girls walked into the room.
“Look guys, she’s here!” She was practically jumping up and down with excitement.
“You’ll have to excuse Phoebe. She forgot to take her meds today,” the dark haired girl joked, as she collapsed dramatically onto the couch and took a big gulp of Gatorade.
Phoebe shot her a look and rolled her eyes. “That’s Carmen, she’s just mad cause I beat her at tennis on the Wii today.” Then she whispered loud enough for everyone to still hear, “I’ve got a wicked back hand.” Glancing over at the girl on the couch, she stuck out her tongue.
“I’m Willow,” the third girl gave me a very genuine smile.
“I’m Anastasia; it’s nice to meet you.” I returned her smile. The second I said my name, the other two girls quit arguing and looked at me the same way Kira had earlier. Feeling extremely awkward, I continued, “But you can call me Stasia.”
Willow recovered first. “Welcome to Lorelei, Stasia, we’re really happy you’re here.”
Kira squeezed my shoulder and turned towards the door. “You girls help Stasia get settled in and I’ll stop by tomorrow to see how things are going, okay?” She gave me a wink. After she left, I turned and looked at my new suitemates. They couldn’t have been more different.
Phoebe was no taller than 5’1, and her tri-colored hair matched the rest of her rocker girl style. She was wearing gray skinny jeans, red Converse sneakers, and a vintage AC/DC t-shirt. Her hunter green eyes were on the smaller side, and they crinkled up when she laughed. Her smile was infectious and could brighten an entire room. Willow lived up to her name as she floated into the kitchen in a white strapless sundress with lace trim, bare feet, and unruly, wavy blonde hair braided down her back. Wisps of hair feathered out around her round face, framing her full lips and big blue eyes. Her demeanor was very calming and put you at ease right away. Carmen’s Brazilian descent was evident in her dark features and long legs. Her deep brown eyes shined with confidence and her mouth seemed to be stuck in a permanent smirk. She gave off a distinct aura of attitude. Her dark chestnut hair was piled on top of her head in a loose bun, and she was still lounging on the couch in yoga pants and tank top.
Phoebe’s slender hand slid into mine. “Come on, I’ll show you your room! You get to share a bathroom with me!” She pulled me farther into my new home. The common room was like an apartment, with a small galley kitchen on the right that opened up to the rest of the room via a bar with four wooden stools. A small table sat in the space between the kitchen and living room, but I could tell they never used it by the amount of books and papers piled on top of it. The living room had a comfortable-looking cream-colored couch decorated with fluffy turquoise pillows, a cream and turquoise striped love seat and two recliners, which all encircled a wooden coffee table. A flat screen TV like the ones downstairs hung on the wall and glass French doors that led out to a balcony facing the ocean. There were four bedrooms, two on each side of the common room. Phoebe opened one of the doors and my jaw dropped.
“We did a little decorating,” Phoebe said sheepishly. She launched herself onto the bed in a flurry of giggles, sat Indian style and waited for my reaction. The queen size bed was covered by a white down comforter and at least ten pillows of different sizes and shapes. A long wooden dresser with a mirror stood opposite the bed and an armoire towered in the corner. A big, blue shag carpet rug decorated the floor. Behind the bed, hung three large picture frames with the words Live, Love, and Laugh written in swirling letters. Everything was decorated in light blue, silver, and white. There was a small closet and another door that led into the bathroom I’d be sharing.
“So what do you think?” I could tell the suspense was literally killing her.
“I absolutely love it!” She jumped off the bed and gave me another quick hug. Over her shoulder, I spotted my luggage in the corner, waiting to be unpacked. I couldn’t believe how amazing my new home was. I was expecting a cramped dorm room with maybe a mini fridge. This rocked.
“I picked out the comforter!” Carmen yelled from the other room. I could tell her attitude was really just a cover for the very caring, sweet person she really was on the inside. It made me wonder what happened in her life to cause her to build walls around her heart, too.
“You guys are too much, honestly, this is amazing.” I addressed all of them with gratitude.
Phoebe beamed with pride. I looked at her, slightly perplexed by how very normal she seemed as well.
“Everybody here seems so normal. So…what brought you here?” I hoped the question wasn’t too p
ersonal, but she gave me an equally perplexed look and frowned.
“The same thing that brings everybody here, silly,” she replied. Before she could continue she sniffed the air and her green eyes lit up with mischief. I did the same, hoping I remembered my deodorant this morning, but the rich, sweet smell of cake filled my nose, instead.
“Hey Carmen, what time is it?” Phoebe shouted into the other room. I could hear the delightful anticipation in her tone.
“Smells like….cupcake thirty!” Carmen called back to her. Willow snickered from the kitchen.
“Cupcake thirty?” I questioned Phoebe, but she just licked her lips and dragged me up to the bar.
“Willow’s our baker and cook all in one” She announced proudly and pulled out a stool for both of us.
“Same thing, Phoebs.” Carmen pulled up a stool, too. She pulled her hair back, as if preparing for an eating contest. Phoebe unfolded a napkin and tucked it in the collar of her shirt, creating a make shift bib. I was half expecting them to grab their forks next and start beating them on the counter chanting ‘we want cupcakes’. I could tell I was going to enjoy living with these girls. If nothing else, they were entertaining.
“No they aren’t, a baker bakes things, a cook cooks things. Duh.” Phoebe and Carmen started arguing and I peeked up at Willow, who was in the process of taking the cupcakes out of the pan and spreading on icing. She shook her head at the other two with a disapproving frown and handed me the first cupcake.
“Go ahead and add referee to that list,” she said warily, then spoke up to interrupt Phoebe and Carmen “I’m gonna give these cupcakes to our best friends next door if you two don’t stop,” she threatened, and by the way she said it I can tell by best friends, she meant the complete opposite.