Fly: A PORTAL Chronicles Novel (The PORTAL Chronicles)

by Melissa Aden

  Once in the safety of my room, I sobbed confused, frustrated tears into my pillow for what seemed like hours, trying to mastermind a way out. But now as I wept in my bathtub, I slowly accepted the truth: I was a good girl and an obedient daughter. I would follow through with whatever my father thought best, because I loved him and trusted his judgment.

  I resigned myself to fact. I was going to Brightman Academy.

  Chapter 2

  First Day Dawning

  “Well, I guess it’s time to say goodbye,” Dad said, fidgeting with his car keys.

  I’d spent the day dreading this inevitably awkward moment while packing my things for my stay at Brightman Academy, but it could no longer be avoided as my flight departed in an hour. I stared at the worn airport carpet, finding it hard to look Dad in the face. I consented to his plan, but was still upset he was sending me away.

  “Please don’t be mad, Sophie,” he pleaded, his voice breaking. “Trust that I’m doing this for your own good.”

  “I know,” I said, putting on a brave face. After crying all night, I’d passed the day in a numb state of shock, but now that it was time to part, fresh emotion rose to the surface. I forced a smile. There was plenty of time to be mad at Dad later. “I’ll miss you,” I muttered, knowing I’d regret not telling him.

  “Oh, Soph!” He stifled a sob. Startled, I met his gaze for the first time all day to find him worse off than I’d imagined. His crooked grimace and pooling, red eyes were blatant evidence that I wasn’t the only one suffering. He hugged me. “I’m so sorry things have to be this way. This isn’t easy for me either. But one day soon, you’ll understand. I love you, Sophie. I’ll always love you, okay?”

  “I know,” I mumbled into his shoulder, willing myself not to cry.

  He stepped back, searching through his jacket. “Take advantage of this opportunity. Study hard, but don’t forget to play hard too, okay?” He handed me an envelope and a credit card. “The credit card is for living and school expenses. Use it wisely. There’s enough cash in the envelope to get you to Annandale.”

  Opening the envelope, I thumbed through a thick stack of twenties. Guilt money, no doubt. “It’s not going to cost five hundred dollars to get to Brightman from the airport.”

  “No matter. Take a cab to Brightman. Once you get there, ask for Dr. Smitherson. He’ll be expecting you,” Dad nervously rambled.

  “You already told me all this.”

  “I know,” Dad sighed, hugging me again. “I’m proud of you, Sophie. I know this isn’t easy for you.” He stroked my cheek. “My poppet. You be good, okay?”

  The grief apparent behind his fake smile was enough to break me right then and there. By now the lump in my throat was burning like I’d swallowed a hot coal. “You too, Daddy. I love you.”

  He kissed my cheek and I turned, quickly heading for the security gate. I refused to look back, knowing whatever I saw there would surely break my heart.

  Security was a breeze and I soon sat on the plane ready for takeoff. The lump in my throat apparated as I realized Dad had ordered me the window seat. He knew me too well, that my favorite part of flying was staring out the window during flights. My mind skimmed through all our many adventures in the past.

  I was born in Paris, where Dad was currently teaching when Mom had me. We moved to L.A. when I was four months old and after spring boarding all over the U.S. through my early childhood, lived in Berkeley, California, until Mom died when I was eight. After that, I think it was too hard for Dad to live where she died, because, despite having his dream job at the university there, we moved to Denmark soon after Mom’s death. From there, we lived in Texas, Switzerland, Illinois, England, and Portland, spending about two years at each destination. Looking back, I wondered if the zigzag from foreign soil to stateside was intentional. Though, Dad was staying in the U.S. again this time, so probably not.

  Later today, Dad was flying to Fairbanks, Alaska. Opposed to the cold, I hadn’t wanted moved to Alaska, though where I was going wasn’t much better. Located on the outskirts of Annandale, Minnesota, a Google search told me Brightman Academy was located about forty-five minutes outside Minneapolis. Annandale had a population of three thousand people and boasted frigid, snow-infested winters. Great! Though, Annandale’s autumn was supposedly amazing, so maybe the breathtaking scenery would help my new home grow on me before it became a winter wonderland.

  “Hi, there!” A petite woman with short, fiery red hair and pretty peridot eyes settled into the seat beside me. “I’m Gloria. What’s your name?”

  “Sophie. Pleasure to meet you.” I shook Gloria’s hand.

  “It’s so nice to meet you, Sophie,” Gloria beamed, seeming sincere. I instantly liked her. “Headed to Minneapolis?”

  “Annandale. I’m on my way to Brightman Academy.”

  “Brightman!” She lit up. “That’s my alma mater. I hope you have no aversion to studying.”

  “I can be a book worm when I need to be,” I answered, resisting the urge to admit I was an out-and-out nerd.

  “Then you’ll do great.” She nodded. “It’s a good, safe place to learn. I attended all four years of high school there, and loved every second of it.” Her face glowed as she talked. “The best part was the friends I made. When everyone is away from family, you tend to get really close to your schoolmates. You’ll see. I bet you’ll form some wonderful friendships during your time there.”

  Her high regard for Brightman warmed me to the idea of attending school there, and with a little encouragement, she was soon sharing stories. Talking to her put me at ease, and before I knew it, I had told her all about Dad sending me away and we were landing at the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport. After filing off the plane, she helped me track down my four suitcases at the baggage claim before giving me a hug.

  “I’m so glad we were seated next to each other. I loved talking to you,” she said.

  “Me too,” I agreed. “Your stories helped make Brightman seem a little less scary.”

  “I’m happy to hear it. Think you can find your way to Brightman okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m going to take a cab,” I said.

  “A cab? Well, I live in South Haven. Annandale is on my way. I could drive you to Brightman, if you’d like,” Gloria offered.

  “Thank you, but I’d hate to impose,” I said, feeling her out.

  “It’s no imposition at all,” she smiled. “You’d be doing me a favor. I haven’t been to Brightman in forever and a trip down memory lane would be… kind of nice.”

  “Okay then. Thanks,” I said, ignoring the voice in my head telling me Dad would kill me for catching a ride with a stranger.

  “Great! My car is this way.” Without hesitating, Gloria took off with two of my heaping suitcases.

  It was then that I noticed she didn’t have any luggage of her own and only carried a purse. Though odd, I quickly put it out of my mind and hurried to catch up to her with my other two suitcases.

  “Umm… Gloria,” I called as we reached the parking garage. “This is short term parking. Wouldn’t your car be in the long term garage?”

  She looked at the sign above us. “Oh, silly me. I must have parked in the wrong garage. My bill’s going to be huge!” She laughed, just approaching her car.

  Gloria opened the rear hatch of a pretty BMW and, despite her small stature, nimbly threw my two heavy suitcases into the back. As I struggled to lift the third suitcase into the back, she grabbed the fourth.

  Soon, we were sailing down the interstate, my stomach flipping nervously. “Is your car new?” I asked, trying to relegate my uneasiness.

  “Yes. Could you tell from the new car smell? My husband just got it for me as an early Christmas present. I love it.” Once again, she beamed, vaguely reminding me of Mom.

  “Yeah, it’s great. I really like the… oh!” I exclaimed with a start. My rear had suddenly gotten super warm.

  Spotting my surprised expression, Gloria burst into laughter. “Hea
ted seats,” she explained through giggles. “Sorry, I should have warned you.”

  I laughed too as the warmth spread from my shoulders to my thighs. It was soothing, and I was soon struggling to keep my eyes open.

  “Rest your eyes,” Gloria cooed in a motherly tone. “You’ve had a long trip. I’ll wake you when we arrive.”

  Nodding my thanks, I looked out the window to find the trees here were already turning, their luscious, vibrant colors giving way to glassy ponds that mirrored the radiant beauty around us.

  I’m used to this. The realization put me at ease. The transition from summer to fall usually heralded change for me. I’d had many “first days” at schools and was a pro at starting over. This time was no different. Talking to Gloria had only confirmed that Dad was right. I’d eventually make new friends and hopefully find some semblance of home here.

  Staring out the window, I savored the beautiful view as well as some newfound peace, and soon found myself running through a similar forest in my dreams.

  Chapter 3

  Running

  “Sophie… Sophie… ”

  I searched for the Voice. But where was she? The rich autumn colors of the forest trees whirred by me in a blur as I ran. The cold wind hinted at winter’s arrival as it whipped at my hair and cheeks.

  “Sophie… ” The Voice sang.

  I couldn’t find her. Forever running through an endless sea of cold and color, I panicked. Dusk lay ahead. If I didn’t find her before nightfall, I’d surely be lost.

  Something caught my eye then. Silhouetted by the setting sun, a looming figure walked a line parallel to the horizon ahead. I stopped in awe of what I saw. He wasn’t just big, but a giant and an ugly one at that.

  I froze, hoping he wouldn’t notice me. Though I stood far away, I didn’t know how fast a giant could close the distance and wasn’t about to find out.

  “Sophie? Where are you?”

  Be quiet. Oh, please. Be quiet. Can he hear her too?

  In answer to my question, the giant must have heard the Voice for he stopped and looked around, his gaze landing on me. I trembled, waiting for his reaction.

  Balling his fists, he took in a great expanse of air, opened his mouth wide and let out a horrifying bellow. The noise was deafening. I lost my balance as the earth shook beneath my feet. Cowering on the ground, I covered my ears, waiting for something dramatic to happen — like the whole world, or maybe just my head, to implode.

  Finally running out of breath, the giant charged towards me, his breath producing great clouds of mist like an angry bull. I watched, frozen in fear.

  “Sophie!” The Voice called, this time with great alarm. “Run! Sophie, run!”

  Scrambling to my feet, I bounded away without direction or a plan, only knowing I needed escape, to get away as quickly as possible.

  The giant trailed me, the vibrations of his heavy steps tripping me as he gained on me. I set my eyes ahead, pushing myself forward faster. The merciless wind stung my cheeks and my lungs burned for air, but I pressed on. Severely exhausted, I didn’t know how much further I could go.

  A rumbling noise up ahead caught my attention. I approached a set of train tracks. The ground’s vibrations stopped and I turned to find the giant with his ear to the ground. Curious, I followed his lead, placing my face against the cold, musty earth. The rumbling was more distinct there. I tuned out my pain and fear, focusing all my senses on listening. The noise was getting louder and coming from somewhere to my right.

  I looked down the tracks where, sure enough, a train approached. While it seemed like a run-of-the-mill steam engine, it charged ahead like it was on steroids, and in only a second, whizzed by inches from my face.

  With a great gust, its force sent me sprawling backwards. I flew high into the air and then back towards the ground — the earth below growing closer and closer until…

  Chapter 4

  Bag Boy

  “Sophie!”

  A sharp pain pierced my cheek. My eyes shot open. I was in Gloria’s car with my head resting on the freezing passenger window. My cheek stung from the cold.

  “Sophie, we’re here,” Gloria cooed, rubbing my arm. I blinked groggily. “You were in quite a deep sleep!” she laughed.

  Rubbing my cheek, I looked out the window to my right. Brushing a thin layer of frost off with my hand, I peeked out.

  It was dark outside. Large, tall streetlights bathed the scene in a torrent of yellow light, bleaching away any color. Under the monochromatic light, streams of people — I guessed all students and staff of Brightman — bustled into a large building like ants, their suitcases and crates in tow.

  Parked along a curb, the stately building loomed at least five stories above us. It looked every bit like a beautiful fairytale castle with tall, cream stone walls giving way to a regal entryway of six columns.

  “Wow,” I breathed, my breath re-frosting my peephole.

  Gloria laughed. “Yeah, Brightman certainly evokes that response. That building is headquarters for the school. Someone there should be able to direct you to your room.”

  A loud rapping noise made Gloria and I jump. She quickly rubbed the frost from her window and was startled to find eyes looking at her just beyond it. We both stared at the handsome face through her window like gaping, dumbfounded idiots. We must have looked the part as the boy the face belonged to eventually waved exaggeratedly and laughed, flashing an equally handsome smile.

  “Need help with your bags?” he asked loudly through the window. Neither of us said a word, continuing to moronically stare. “Maaay I help you with yooour baaags?” he asked again, slowly enunciating each word.

  Snapping from her stupor, Gloria rolled down her window. “Yes, that would be lovely!” she responded cheerily. “Thank you!”

  “All in a days work,” he said, giving me a wink.

  Realizing I was still staring, I clamped my mouth shut and looked away, causing the boy to chuckle.

  “I’ll pop the rear hatch,” Gloria said to him. I opened my door. “Wait a sec!” Gloria grabbed my arm. She handed me a business card. “Here’s my contact information. If you need anything, I only live about twenty minutes from here. Whether you need a night away from school or just a good meal, please don’t hesitate to call.”

  “Thanks,” I smiled, fingering the card’s dainty monogram of a V and an S, wondering what the initials stood for. “And thanks for the ride. I really appreciate it.”

  “You’re most welcome, Sophie. I’m sure you’ll do great things here at Brightman,” she said, giving me one last hug.

  Turning back towards my door, I took a deep breath before stepping out, immediately toppling sideways right in front of the gorgeous boy.

  “Whoa!” He dropped my suitcase to catch me by the arm. “Are you okay?” he asked, setting me straight.

  “Yeah, thanks,” I said, feeling my cheeks warm. “I didn’t realize my leg was asleep,” I lied.

  Brushing a patch of dark hair from his eyes, he smiled making his green eyes dance. Suddenly self-conscious, I looked away, trying to control the monster butterflies invading my stomach. An awkward moment passed before the boy let go of me to return to unloading my bags.

  Now fully exposed to this cold world of huge buildings, strangers, and a mysterious boy who oddly put me on edge, I missed the safety and warmth of the BMW and Gloria’s soothing presence. The chill soaked through my bones, sending an uncontrollable shiver through me.

  “You’re not from around here are you?” the boy asked. He stood by my four suitcases, unabashedly watching me.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I snapped, my voice coming off sharper than intended.

  “Nothing.” He shrugged, unfazed. “I noticed you shiver.”

  “Oh.” Was he watching me? Is he flirting or just being nice? I moaned as the gears in my overanalyzing brain began to whir. “Sorry. I’m a little crabby. I just woke up,” I explained, putting my hands to my cold cheeks.

  “You’re
not crabby, you have spunk. I like that in a girl.” He smiled.

  Okay. That was definitely flirting.

  Gloria groaned loudly, making me realize we had an audience. Not knowing how to respond, I changed the subject. “Is it usually this cold in September?”

  “No. It got cold unusually early this year, so I hope you packed warm clothes. It’s supposed to snow next week.” I grimaced and he laughed. “Is this everything?” He gestured to my suitcases.

  “Yeah,” I said, and he slammed the rear hatch shut.

  “Bye, Sophie. Best of luck,” Gloria hollered as she pulled away.

  “Thanks again,” I called.

  “Your mom is pretty,” the boy said, so close I could feel the warmth of his body. “I can see where you get it from.”

  “Her? She’s not my mom,” I corrected, stepping away. Only then did I realize he was flirting again and the correct response was a simple thanks. The fact that I hadn’t spent much time around kids my own age — much less boys — was painfully clear.

  “Oh,” he shrugged.

  I turned to look at the large building again. It seemed daunting and monstrous — a lot less whimsical and charming as from the confines of Gloria’s car. I suddenly missed Dad. Facing new situations was much easier with someone to share the experience with.

  “Don’t be nervous. You’ll like it here,” the boy said, again standing too close. I could smell his cologne, sending a different sort of shiver through me. Noticing, he frowned. “You’re cold. Let’s get you inside.”

  I stared after him as he rolled two of my suitcases into the line of ants making their way into the building. The scene before me was like clockwork: Car after car of students methodically unloading their luggage and dragging it towards two great doors that swallowed them up like a giant mouth. I gulped.