St Mary's Academy Series Box Set 1

by Seven Steps

  “I give to you, the forest of knowledge,” Mr. Mann said.

  Applause exploded through the crowd. They stood, rushing past the podium to snap pictures and get a better look at the mural.

  My mural.

  A tear squeezed from my eye and flowed down my cheek.

  A huge weight of relief left my shoulders.

  Finally, after all this time, the mural was complete. And everyone seemed to actually like it. They smiled at the wall, pointing to their favorite spots, and took pictures. A few turned and waved to me as they walked along the wall.

  I walked the length of the mural, looking at it through the eyes of a visitor and soaking up accolades. It felt like, for the first time, I was being recognized for my talent. My passion. For the first time people actually saw me. It was like the sun had finally come out and shined on my face.

  We were just getting to the end of the mural when a loud boom rocked the school. Like someone had stopped the world from spinning.

  The lights flickered.

  “What’s happening?” Mr. Mann asked.

  Then, the lights went out. But only for a moment.

  One by one, they turned on, lighting a path to the front door.

  “What is this?” Mr. Mann cried out. “Someone call the police.”

  “I think we should follow the lights,” I called out. “We should go outside.”

  I broke away, leading the crowds with determined steps back out into the cold evening air.

  “This is it,” I heard Bella say from behind me.

  I walked out of the school and stood across the street, getting a good, front row seat of what was about to happen on the front of the school.

  More lights poured over my head.

  Pounding music blared.

  “What is this?” Mr. Mann asked from behind me.

  “I think, it’s some sort of show,” I said. “Did you put this together?”

  “No, I didn’t put this together,” he argued.

  The music turned off.

  A dark figure that stretched from the top of the school building to the bottom walked toward a blank wall. They pulled a spray can from their hip and started spray painting. It appeared they were painting directly on the school walls.

  Words formed from the sprays.

  What Is Art?

  Then, the figure disappeared, and the screen blanked again.

  One by one, spray painted symbols for each of the RATZ appeared on the wall to the sound of perfectly timed music.

  Ollie’s first. A line, with white sprayed on one side and black on the other.

  Jeff’s next. An open mouth with fangs dripping with blood.

  Able’s, a pair of headphones with a long cord.

  Jean’s, blue hair and a smile.

  And, to my surprise, mine. A yellow jasmine.

  I gasped. I knew that some of my art would be included, but to have my symbol next to the RATZ, to show how included I was, was an honor.

  Then the symbols circled each other, until one shot forth.

  Ollie’s.

  One by one, his signature pieces showed on the wall as if spray painted directly on it. Each piece pulsated, vibrated, and danced across the screen, all bleeding one into another.

  Then Jeff’s.

  Able’s.

  Jean’s.

  And finally, mine.

  The crowd was quiet at first. Stunned. But, as the show went on, the stunned silence turned into an awestruck hush.

  Then the flashes of cameras.

  Cheers.

  Oohs and aahs. The crowd grew bigger. People stopped working to come and gawk and wonder at the beautiful pictures moving over the front of one of the most prestigious schools in the state.

  Even the cop cars that pulled up to control the crowd stopped to stare.

  When the last pictures finally faded, the crowd was quiet for a moment. But only for a moment.

  Then a roar filled the streets of New York. Cheers and cries rose up from the crowd until it shook the ground.

  “That was phenomenal,” Mr. Mann said. “Simply extraordinary.”

  “Kind of throws a wrench in your theory about spray paint being only for vandals, doesn't it?” Ollie said, stepping through the crowd to stand in front of him.

  Mr. Mann looked at Ollie thoughtfully.

  “You did this?” he asked.

  Ollie didn’t reply.

  “Be honest, son. You put this together on school grounds without authorization, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” Ollie said.

  “But why?”

  “To show everyone that art cannot be defined or contained. Not on a canvas, or even a wall. Art is everywhere. Even the types you don’t like still count. And the people who do them, they count too.”

  Mr. Mann looked taken aback.

  “Oliver Santiago, we told you that you had one chance left at this school, and you just blew it. Your father will be hearing about this.”

  Ollie stood defiantly. “If that’s what it takes.”

  “Wait,” Mrs. Meredith said. “Wait, one second.”

  We all turned to the woman pushing through the crowd.

  “What is this, Mrs. Meredith?”

  “I just wanted to call to your attention the permits that were so graciously filed prior to this beautiful display. I wasn’t sure if you’d seen them yet.”

  “Permits?”

  “Yes, sir.” She held up a paper to Mr. Mann’s face.

  I stood on my tippy toes to see what it said over Mr. Mann’s shoulder, but I couldn’t read them.

  “Mrs. Meredith, when did you get a permit for all of this?”

  “Just this morning, sir. There was a copy for me in my mailbox.”

  He scowled and squinted at the paper.

  “Filed by Mr. Triton Swimworthy?”

  I looked back at Ariel. She held one thumb up in the air.

  I let out a breath. Thank God for her. She thought of everything!

  “Mrs. Meredith, I can’t help but believe that you influenced these children to do this. I expect to see you in my office on Monday morning. First thing.” Then he turned his eyes to Ollie and me. “You too.”

  “Yes, sir,” we replied.

  Then, Mr. Mann pushed his way through the crowd and disappeared.

  I put my hand over my racing heart.

  We’d done it.

  We’d pulled off a virtual tag and finished the mural all on time.

  “I didn’t think we could do it,” Ollie said.

  “Me neither.”

  He pulled me into his arms. “It’s almost like magic.”

  “Yeah. Magic.”

  Then, he bent his head and pressed his lips to mine.

  Yup. It was true. Ollie and I were pure magic.

  78

  On Monday morning, Mr. Mann met with us in his office. Though he didn’t have any official grounds to punish us due to Ariel’s last-minute permits, he did voice his displeasure of the virtual tag, no matter how beautiful it was.

  For that, we had to help the kitchen staff for one week. He called it community service and said it would be something we could use on our college applications, but I knew what it really was. Mr. Mann trying to punish us without really punishing us. But after all of the punishable things we’d actually done, Ollie and I took the cleaning assignment without question, and our friends followed suit.

  After that, it was back to class to try to bring back some normalcy into our lives. Cole, Bella, and Sophia had band practice. Ariel had swim practice. Eric had business class, and Purity did… whatever it was that Purity did.

  Ollie and I rode the subway to Jay Street in Tribeca.

  “Where are we going?” I asked as we stepped off the subway.

  “Guess?”

  I shrugged. “An art exhibit?”

  “No. Guess again.”

  “The opening of a children’s hospital?”

  “What? No. Last guess.”

  “I don’t know. A new I
yarian restaurant?”

  “I wish, but no. This is a very special place. I’m not sure you’re ready for it.”

  We climbed out of the subway station and started walking again.

  “Well, I could tell you if I was ready for it if you would just tell me where we were going.”

  He placed his hand on the small of my back.

  “Just trust me, Princess,” he said.

  I looked at Ollie for a moment, taking in his eyes, his lips, and all the features I’d grown to love. To trust. I did trust Ollie. After everything we’d been through, I trusted him.

  I smiled and nodded.

  “Okay. I trust you.”

  He smiled back, and I could tell he felt it too. He trusted me, just like I trusted him. It made me feel like we were connecting on a deeper level now. A level closer to love.

  Ollie brought us to a tall, gray building on Jay Street. He squeezed my hand, and I followed him inside to a beautiful lobby full of leather couches and tall plants and a fireplace. It looked more like a study from the Victorian days than a lobby of a luxury condo. I half expected a man in a butler uniform to offer me a cigarette or a fingertip of scotch.

  Ollie waved to the doorman standing next to the reception desk.

  “Hello, Mr. Abu.”

  The man tipped the brim of his cap in a return greeting. “Good day to you, Mr. Santiago.”

  We never stopped or slowed as we moved through the lobby and up to the second floor. The door was made of black glass, with a second glass keypad on the right-hand side. Ollie typed in a code, then placed his thumb against the top of the pad.

  A flash of red showed above the door, then it popped open.

  Wow, this place was fancy.

  We walked down a short hallway that ended at another black glass door. Two men in black stood on either side of it.

  When they caught sight of us, they bowed deeply.

  “Your highness,” they both said.

  Ollie gave them each a small nod.

  “As you were,” he said.

  The one on the left stood at attention, while the one on the right typed in a code, put in his thumb print, then held the door open for us.

  Ollie led me through the door and into one of the most beautiful condos I’d ever seen.

  The walls were all exposed brick, with large, black framed windows. A set of glass sliding doors revealed a beautiful enclosed courtyard. Evergreen trees lined the courtyard, and there were several benches and a big firepit in the middle.

  The doors were closed now, keeping the late January chill out of the condo.

  The floors were smooth, shiny wood, and there were at least four sitting areas, each denoted by a different color chair. Blue, wood framed chairs here, mustard-colored chairs there, green chairs over there, and finally a set of pink chairs that looked so plush and comfortable I had to stop myself from running over and throwing myself into them.

  Above me, exposed wood frames told of a second floor.

  On my right, an ancient, sturdy spiral staircase led upstairs. The staircase was set in front of an interesting seafoam green wall. The wall didn’t look painted. It wasn’t a solid color, but a blend of white, green, black, and brown. I wondered if Able had painted it.

  Then, I wondered what had happened to Able. Was he a part of the conspiracy against Ollie? If so, what was his role? Or was he an innocent bystander? If he was would they allow him to come back?

  Ollie sat me on one of the dark couches. He swung my legs up and over his, so that they were lying across his thighs. It felt sweet and intimate.

  “Is this where you live?” I asked.

  “Every day.”

  “But why would you sleep in a warehouse when you had a place like this?”

  He raised one eyebrow. “Why would you paint on walls when you had canvases?”

  “Good point.”

  “Princess, I brought you here because I didn’t want any other secrets between us. You wanted to know where my home was. This is it. At least until I go back to Iyaria.”

  I bit my lower lip. “Is that going to be soon?”

  He brushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear and smiled at me. “Not any time soon. And not without you.”

  He brought my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles.

  “When I named you princess, I meant it.”

  I smiled.

  Could Ollie and I have that? A future as prince and princess in a different kingdom? Could I leave my home? My friends? My family?

  It all seemed so big and so far in the future that I pushed it to the back of my mind.

  We’d talk about that another day.

  “I’m sorry you didn’t get into the summer program,” he said.

  I let out a loud breath. “It’s disappointing. But I was too late. I didn’t get my application in on time.”

  “Do you think you’ll try against next year?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Next year I’ll probably be too busy convincing my mom to let me go to art school to even think about a summer program.”

  “You haven’t told her about your dreams yet?”

  “I did. But it’s the making her believe in them that’s the hard part.”

  “You’ll do it. If you’re as good at persuasion with her as you are with me, then you don’t have anything to worry about.”

  “I didn’t persuade you. I blackmailed you.”

  “Did I mention that I find blackmail totally hot?”

  I pushed him playfully, and he nudged me back. Then, he took my hands and placed them on his face so I was cupping his cheeks.

  “There’s something I want to tell you,” he said.

  His eyes were black and deep. Like the sky at midnight. They made me feel like I was floating through space and time. Away from everything and everyone.

  “Yes?” I croaked.

  “Princess, I think I’m in love with you.”

  Warmth flowed through my body, making me feel light. Like I was floating on the Pacific Ocean on a sunny and beautiful day.

  “You don’t have to say it back.” He leaned forward, until our faces were almost touching. “I just wanted you to know it.”

  I swallowed. I’d never said I love you to a guy before. This was a pretty big step. But this was Ollie. I trusted him, and I cared about him. We’d been through a lot together these last two weeks and my feelings were clear. Knowing his feelings were the same as mine made the words slip from my lips with ease.

  “I’m in love with you too.”

  He grinned.

  “Yeah?”

  I grinned back.

  “Yeah.”

  And then our lips touched. It was a kiss full of joy and happiness. Of promises and trust.

  A kiss of love.

  I was in love with Ollie and he was in love with me.

  There was nothing better in the world.

  79

  When I arrived home, Mom was sitting in the living room chatting with someone.

  At first, I thought it was Daddy, but the lack of yelling threw that theory out of the window.

  I took a quiet step toward the living room, trying to see who Mom’s mystery guest was.

  Was it the divorce lawyer? No, it couldn’t be. I’d never seen a lawyer with purple hair before.

  Maybe it was an old friend or a college roommate?

  The two women threw their heads back and laughed, then, the woman spotted me, and my heart stopped.

  That purple hair.

  Those clear brown eyes.

  That winning smile.

  I knew her.

  How could I not know her?

  It was Devinta Holly.

  My hand went to my chest. I was gasping for air. My insides were rioting.

  My idol was in my living room, and here I was with puffy lips and messed up hair and rosy cheeks from Ollie’s expert kisses.

  Devinta smiled and stood up.

  “You must be Jasmine.”

  She knew my name? How c
ould she know my name? I wanted to jump up and down and scream, but my legs had turned into jelly.

  “I’m Devinta.”

  She walked over to me, Mom following closely behind.

  I still couldn’t believe it. It was like I was in a dream. How could this be? How was she here?

  Devinta held out her hand to shake it, and I looked at it in awe.

  Gathering my wits, I slipped my hand in hers and it felt rough and dry. A true artist’s hand.

  She was a true artist.

  “It’s lovely to finally meet you,” she said.

  “I… I…” I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to do. My heart was pounding. My palms felt sweaty. My breathing was ragged.

  I wanted to say something to impress her. Something that made sense. Something she would remember.

  I opened my mouth.

  “You are a goddess.”

  Something that wasn’t that. My cheeks heated with embarrassment. What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I get my thoughts in order?

  “Well, I wouldn’t say I’m all that, but thanks all the same.”

  Devinta was so gracious. So kind. More than I thought she’d be.

  “Let’s cut right to the chase, shall we?” she said.

  “Yes. Chase. Cut.”

  I was an idiot. A stupid idiot.

  “I’ve seen your paintings all over social media and I have to say they are intriguing.”

  “Pa-pa-paintings?”

  “Yes. All the pictures you’ve been posting.”

  Pictures? I hadn’t posted any pictures.

  “May I see?” I asked.

  She regarded me curiously and nodded, then pulled out her phone, typed a few keys, and handed it to me.

  An account had been set up with my picture and hometown in the profile. Beneath my smiling profile photo were all the pictures I’d painted since my house arrest, and each tagged Devinta Holly in them.

  But how?

  Why?

  Who?

  Then, it dawned on me.

  Bella had been taking pictures of my paintings.

  She must’ve set up this account.

  It was the only thing that made sense.

  I handed the phone back to Devinta.

  “That is you, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Those are my paintings.”

  Devinta nodded. “You’re very gifted, child. I was just telling your mother how rare it is to find such talent in such a young woman of your social standing.”