Hawthorn Academy: Year One

by D. R. Perry

  "So, what was the whole thing back in the hallway?" I gestured at the door with my fork. "What did you mean? Why can't I be out there?"

  Faith swallowed her last mouthful of coleslaw. "Elanor's looking for you."

  "What?" I blinked, almost leaning back. It was a good thing I didn’t, considering the stool had no back.

  "You heard me." Faith pushed BBQ pulled pork around the box it came in. "And she doesn't look happy." She took a tiny bite. Apparently, she didn't have much of an appetite, either.

  "Does anyone know why?" I picked up one triangle of my tuna salad on pumpernickel but just stared at it. Even one of my favorites, prepared especially for me because the main offering had no Kosher hacks, didn't improve my appetite.

  "Maybe it's got something to do with the fact that Logan has no date." Kitty shook her head. "He's totally fine with going stag, or at least that was what he said on Monday."

  "Well, considering she and Noah practically tried to arrange our marriage on the first day of school, I can understand that." The sense this made alleviated some of my gut agitation, so I took a bite of my sandwich, finally.

  "I think you might be assuming wrong." Grace talked around a bite of her pork, which she shoveled onto a roll. She realized her breach of etiquette and swallowed before continuing, "Because Logan does have a date. He's going with Hailey."

  "I had no idea." Kitty blinked. "I can't believe I didn't hear about that."

  "Everyone makes mistakes." Faith grinned, and I nodded in return. I got with her double meaning. "I'm glad he's going with her instead of Bailey, at any rate. Hailey's all but stopped hanging around with Charity. I'd figure both of them would have come around by now. I mean, my sister's only here for a few more months."

  I dropped my sandwich because I was still in the dark. "I still don't know why Elanor's on the warpath, guys. Do you think I should avoid her during the dance too?"

  Everybody nodded. Uh-oh.

  "I'll try to help." Grace wiped her hands on her napkin. Her sandwich vanished. "I'm not sure what I can do, though."

  "The last thing any of us needs to deal with is a bunch of inter-year drama." I stared wistfully down at my sandwich because it'd probably go to waste now. "Why do half the upperclassmen give me grief?"

  "I don't know." Kitty sighed. "I guess we'll find out if she ever tells us what her problem is. Maybe you won't have to wait too long, but I hope she decides to tell you calmly and in private."

  "Right. Because I definitely don't want cafeteria part two, Bonfire Boogaloo."

  Everybody laughed, and it was good because they laughed with me. If I couldn't solve a problem, the least I could do was make the best of it. Laughing helped with that, most times.

  We finished our dinner, then made use of some cool beauty products Kitty had stashed in her dresser. Her two moms ran a magicpsychic cosmetic company. She got to test all sorts of new gadgets and stuff before anyone else even heard about them.

  She gave each of us breath-freshening tablets to put in our mouths. They cleaned teeth as well as a toothbrush, flossing, and mouthwash, but without effort. We just popped one in our mouths and went about other business for two minutes. After chasing them with water, we were all set on the fresh breath front.

  I brought out my makeup sampler, and Kitty clapped her hands as she jumped up and down. This kit was part of her family's collection. Lucky for me since I wouldn't have known how to use some of those applicators. They were very different from the mundane cosmetics I'd always gotten in the drugstore.

  Kitty also gave us magical cloths for washing our faces before applying makeup. Once we used them, we tucked them into a special container, which used magic and psychic energy to disinfect and infuse them with new cleansing solution.

  "How did they ever come up with this stuff?" Grace smiled. "This is amazing. I’ve never seen anything like them. It must be awesome for the environment too."

  "Both my moms graduated from Ellicot City Magitechnic." Which made sense. It was definitely something to be proud of.

  ECM was every bit as prestigious as Hawthorn Academy, just for magipsychic technology instead of familiar studies. Noah had looked at applying there before he bonded with Lotan. It was similar to Providence Paranormal in that it had been founded as an alternative to a mundane school. In ECM's case, Baltimore Polytechnic Institute.

  Kitty continued, "One majored in botanical sciences and the other in magipsychic chemistry out at Cal Magitech. They learned way more advanced stuff than we do in Lab here. Anyway, extrahumans have been improving skincare with their powers forever, but after the Reveal, they realized there'd be a market for magic cosmetics anyone could use."

  "You mean this doesn't take any energy to run?" I picked up the package we’d put the used cloths into. "It's already charged and everything?"

  "They keep working for about six months, but then you can send them back to get recharged. My moms have psychics, magi, and faeries staffing an entire department for this sort of thing since even the most powerful magi can't replenish the glamour or psychic energy in these."

  "That's so cool." And it totally was. What an amazing world we lived in.

  We sat in front of the makeshift vanity, which was long enough to accommodate all four of us, and got glamorized. It was cool spending time with Kitty. I never would've thought she was this interesting just by looking at her. It made me wonder how many other people I’d misjudged or otherwise made incorrect assumptions about every day. The reverse was also true.

  The entrance we made for the Valentine's Day dance was nothing like Parents’ Night. For one thing, we weren’t on the arms of our dates—just a gaggle of girls, friends heading out for a good time. There were two reasons for this.

  Without phones or other means of sending instant messages, there was no way to inform the guys when we'd head down to the lobby. That was simple and general and applied to all four of us. But the other reason was just for Grace and me.

  The two of us balked, lagging behind Kitty and Faith because we were both more than a little self-conscious about formal socializing. Even though my dress was a literal work of art, and Grace's handmade one came close, we were still nervous. That was why we held hands on our way down the stairs.

  I couldn’t look at the crowd or the lights or even think about meeting up with Alex at that point. I was too busy being amazed by my roommate’s handwork. Once again, she’d made something to wear during Creatives. It was practically miraculous and made her look like she belonged on the red carpet.

  Grace had chosen two types of fabric, one opaque and the other sheer, and combined them into two layers for her dress. The lower was a rich earth-tone orange. I was no expert on textiles, but whatever fabric it was made from moved with her athletic frame, accentuating her natural lithe strength. But the fabric she’d layered over that took the cake. It was bright as a new penny, mesh and lace with a geometric pattern of zigzag lines. The way the long bars caught the light reminded me of strands of beads.

  "Your dress is awesome." I grinned at my roommate.

  "Said the pot to the kettle." She dropped me a wink. "You know where mine came from. Where'd you get that?"

  "It's a hand-me-down from Bubbe." I chuckled. "Would you believe Azreal Ambersmith's great-grandmother made this?"

  "I’ve seen the shop downtown. Do they still make stuff like that, though?"

  "I don't know, but I can ask Az next time I see him. Any particular reason?" I immediately thought of one—that Grace might try seeking an apprenticeship with the Ambersmiths in summer. They'd probably accept her based on the Halloween costume alone.

  "Not really, just curious. It's interesting how even though we get Creatives, there's no emphasis on actual teaching when it comes to the process of crafting here at Hawthorn."

  "Don't look now," I toned my nervous titter back in hopes it'd become a vague sort of chuckle. "But we're sort of being watched."

  And we were. By pretty much everyone. While we were talking, the stair
s had stopped, depositing us on the main floor. Faith and Kitty had already stepped away toward Hal and Eston, leaving us in prime viewing location for the rest of the folks waiting around for the dance to start.

  The first thing I noticed was Noah's dropped jaw. He stared in what looked like abject horror. Maybe he’d seen this dress before, maybe he hadn't, but either way, he freaked out over me wearing it. He stood next to Darren, holding a cup of punch toward him like a peace offering. He didn't move, only stared, so I considered myself safe from whatever level of wrath he had going for now.

  The next thing I saw was Dylan. He stood in front of a chair, thank goodness, because his knees collapsed out from under him as he stared. At Grace, I think. He'd literally been swept off his feet, but that was okay. Once she saw him, she was in motion as sure and swift as any she made on the court.

  I didn't know what happened next between the pair because Alex was too smooth for the shenanigans plaguing Dylan. He sauntered toward me, all half-smile and twinkling green eyes. His tie was pink because I’d told him that was the main color of my dress. I noticed that as he gave me a flourishing bow, one that might have flattered a marquis at a faerie court gathering.

  Until that moment, I had not quite realized how handsome Alex Onassis was. He wasn’t pretty like Logan, whose looks were delicate and chiseled. And he wasn’t solid and present like Hal, or even quietly charming like Lee. Alex brought to mind those painted pottery shards from ancient Greece, the ones depicting men at the peak of their athletic prime.

  While his skin wasn't bronze like the ancient Greeks’, its unblemished paleness reflected light like the moon when at apex. He’d done something with his hair, which was normally dark brown with a natural loose curl. Tonight, he’d used some sort of wax to give it highlights with a silver sheen. And there was one more thing I noticed, just as I took the hand he offered me.

  "Is that eyeliner?"

  "I wanted to look my best." He kissed my hand. "For you."

  There was no response I could think of that didn't feel awkward or sarcastic in a way only my friends would understand, so I said nothing, only nodded and gave him the best smile I could muster. That was hard, because Alex went beyond cleaning up well. He was pretty much gorgeous, and it hit me harder than I would've expected. He seemed so plain on a daily basis that this was a huge surprise.

  You might think from the way I described Dylan and Logan, and now Alex, that all the guys at my school are hunky, or at the very least endearingly cute. Sometimes, it's more about the moment than anything aesthetic.

  We walked along the sides, avoiding the same thing everybody else did—stepping on the dance floor. I mean, really, who wanted to be the first couple to kick off an evening that was supposed to be all about romance? Who wanted everyone's eyes on them that way, so that the person they were with was indelibly linked to them for the rest of their time at Hawthorne Academy?

  Faith and Hal, of course.

  I won’t get flowery and tell you that they stepped lightly out onto the parquet floor, letting their emotions carry them to all sorts of ballroom dancing heights. That would be a lie. Hal was a wreck, after all, and Faith's concern for him, while touching, was the farthest thing from light.

  But together they had courage, and that bond let them tread where no one else dared. At the Parents’ Night dance, Hal had led our whole group through the event. Although his presence hadn't diminished, he lacked the energy he’d had at the beginning of the year. But they were true partners, probably destined. I knew that when I saw it because of my parents.

  Faith rose to this occasion more so than anyone expected, judging by the faces of the upperclassmen and especially her sister. Faith didn’t smile to light up a room or even to shame the devil. Instead, it was gentle, kind, and slow, and I realized she was totally brilliant in more ways than one.

  There was no way Hal Hawkins could have hoped to keep up with anyone on the dance floor, not without Faith setting the pace on it before anyone else could. Again, like on Parents’ Night, this was a waltz, measured steps in a particular and recognizable pattern. It should have worn Hal out, but somehow Faith worked pauses for him where she flourished into the three-quarter time. That put the focus on her so he had space to breathe.

  It was heartrendingly touching. My mind kept going back to that tube in the infirmary, the one sticking out of the wall. I didn't know what that tube was, but I knew what was on the other side of it.

  The Under. The unending source of magic that we each had access to, depending on our body's ability to absorb it through the barrier between worlds. While an extramagus like me could access more than my fair share, Hal had the opposite problem. His illness must limit his magic.

  Clever girl. He's dying, you know.

  I almost did something supremely stupid and shouted at the voice to shut up and go away forever, but in the space between the breath I took and the sound I’d have made, Alex spoke.

  "Shall we?"

  "Yes." The word came out louder and more strident than it might have at a different point in time, but that couldn't be helped. At the very least, Alex knew I was ready to dance. He had no idea about my reasoning, that I needed distraction from a voice in my head. That I couldn't face the likelihood that my friend was dying.

  That was how I ended up as part of the second couple on the dance floor at a Hawthorne Academy function. The dress caught everyone's attention, and there I was, the girl who’d always said she couldn't dance.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  This time, the song was Blackout by Muse.

  It wasn't as easy, managing to waltz. Logan had been good at leading because the Pierces had insisted he learn every dance known to man. He did that with Hailey, who seemed to be enjoying herself. Dylan just goofed his way through it, with Grace playing along. Alex Onassis was neither of those things, not a reluctant performance artist or a class clown. He was a showman.

  My date wasn’t concerned with taking precise, measured steps or teaching me to waltz properly. What Alex wanted was to show me off, or maybe the dress, or both. Instead of sticking to one corner or even one side, he paraded me around the dance floor like he needed us to be seen from all angles.

  I felt like he was on a date with the dress, not me. Anyone could have worn that garment and looked amazing, twirled around in his arms. He was handsome and impeccably well-mannered, but I barely knew Alex and wouldn't know if I had feelings for him until much later. Being considered an ornament didn't bother me. I was okay with that. But also, wrong.

  "Everyone's staring in a good way," he murmured.

  "No, they're not."

  "If that's what you need to tell yourself. But you look stunning, so I'm not surprised."

  "It's the dress."

  "Do you have any idea who you look like?"

  "Do I want to know?" I shrugged one shoulder. "That sort of stuff isn't a big deal to me. This dress was my grandmother's."

  "It really isn't the dress, though." He leaned closer, enough so I felt his breath in my ear. "You look like the Sidhe queen."

  "No, sir." He was so close I didn't dare shake my head for fear of bumping his with mine. "You can't mean that. Besides, if a changeling ever heard you—"

  "Well, you could be related to her." He twirled me, putting some distance between our faces for a moment. "Are you sure you haven't got any Sidhe blood?"

  "You know I do." I sighed. "My uncle's a Hopewell, remember?" I refused to refer to my mother as one, but I didn't say that aloud.

  "Yes, that's right. I'd forgotten."

  No, he hasn't, and you know it. He appreciates these things about you, the ones others would shame you for. Unlike that fool you secretly pine for. And it's something you ought to take pride in.

  I continued moving, dancing along and trying not to pay any heed to the evil inside voice. It was awfully flattering all of a sudden, which wasn't typical. I didn't like it.

  "Would you like to rest, then? Have some punch, perhaps?"

 
"No. Just something in my shoe." The quick save wasn't genuine, but at least it was realistic. Thank goodness, because I wasn’t sure I could handle all the comparisons in my brain right now.

  In case you weren't current with the news, my uncle Richard wasn't just in jail for attacking students at Providence Paranormal College. He was also on trial for crimes against extrahumanity, including a coup in which he’d tried to murder both faerie monarchs. Alex telling me I resembled said royalty right now was more than a little unnerving.

  “Are you sure it's a shoe and not that every song is a waltz?" He chuckled, raising an eyebrow. He almost looked like one of the pointy-eared aliens from that series on TV. You know the one.

  "Maybe." I managed a smile. If only the evil inside voice would shut up and let me have anything to myself. I didn't want to feel like this. "I'm pretty sure they played most of the same songs on Parents’ Night."

  "Yeah, but at least it's not Hide Your Love Away by the Beatles again." He shook his head. "Yet. The upperclassman say that gets played at every dance in this place."

  "Isn't that a little inappropriate for a Valentine's Day dance?"

  "Yes and no." His eyes were half-lidded, an expression I'd come to recognize as noncommittal from him. "Perspective rules all."

  "Hey, I've got an idea." His comment about perspective helped me realize there was a nearly universal one, and I knew just the song to express it. "Does the DJ take requests?"

  "Yes, but only waltzes. That's all they do here."

  I shook my head as I led Alex off the dance floor. It felt strange, taking the initiative and changing something even if it was only a school dance playlist, but it was good to actually have an opinion and be proactive with it for once.

  Nobody else was over by the DJ's table. I felt downright rebellious.

  "I'm guessing most of the students here don't bother with this sort of thing."

  "Does that matter to you?" His half-grin lit his whole face somehow.

  "No, not at all. In fact, I kind of like this." I smiled.