With his death Suleen had said it all in the orchard. He had summoned me back to Wickham to complete a task that he could not.
To kill Justin.
I dared to step to the edge of the woods. People talked on their cell phones and moved boxes into their dorms. Parents idled by large luxury cars, hauled comforters and mini
fridges. Fire had sent me back to Wickham Boarding School on student move-in day so I could begin school with the rest of the student body. Security walked up the paths and a large food truck
pulled to a stop before the union.
Food! Oh my goodness. Food. Glorious, succulent, thousands of different kinds of food that I could buy in
tons.
No more making it myself, no more
dreaming
of coffee. Here they
had coffee that brewed in seconds. Oh, modern world, I missed you so.
Nothing seemed any different to three years ago. At least, not on the outside anyway. The sight and sound of the latest cell phones briefly amused me.
A girl passed through the gates with tight jeans and boots that went over her knees. If only my mother could see her, I thought. She would think the girl a devil, unsure how she got cowhide a
different colour. And what of the unnatural tan of her skin?
I stepped away from the woods and on to grass that stretched from the library to the main quad.
Wickham Boarding School.
How those three words had slung through my mind the last three years. Like a sonnet. Or a name of someone I loved dearly.
I reached up to my neck to the hanging gem.
Only when you need it most.
I had to find Rhode.
The need to see him pulsed through my body coupled with a tinge of fear. This was a world with no decree from the Aeris, but this was also a world in which Rhode had no memory of me.
Focus, Lenah. OK. What to do first?
Beyond, near the union, a welcome table was set up with purple and gold balloons – the Wickham school colours. Perfect. I could find my dorm
room assignment and class schedule.
Class schedule. Preposterous. I would have to go though, wouldn’t I? Especially if I was posing as a Wickham student. I scoffed and took a step towards the path as a boy nearly barrelled
into me. He wore a backwards baseball cap and looked up at me from a collection of drawings in his hands.
‘Whoa, sorry,’ he said. ‘Didn’t see you there.’
I froze.
Almond eyes, high cheekbones.
Beautiful face.
I backed away, bringing my hand to my chest.
Tony Sasaki’s eyes widened.
‘Are you OK?’ he asked.
Joyshockhappinessjoyhappiness – shock.
Tony was alive! He was actually living and breathing! I took a step towards him and pressed a hand on to his chest. His body stiffened at my touch.
He was
warm.
‘What are you . . . ?’ he said.
A laugh escaped and I took a step back, dropping my hand. I slid my palm over my mouth and gulped back the sting of tears.
‘You look like you’re gonna puke,’ Tony said.
‘You,’ I whispered.
‘Me . . . ?’ he said.
I threw myself at Tony, hugging him. I couldn’t seem to grasp his stocky frame hard enough. He patted me on my back a couple of times.
‘Hello, Crazy . . .’ he said.
I squeezed him one more time. He was here. He was alive.
I pulled away from him. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said.
‘Easily the weirdest hello I’ve ever had,’ he said.
He paused, his face falling serious for one moment. ‘So I have amnesia and forgot we know one another, right?’ Tony said. ‘Have we met?’
‘No. No we don’t know one another. I mean, not yet. I’m Lenah,’ I replied awkwardly.
‘Oh!’ Tony said. Recognition passed over his face, which startled me. He pointed at me with the hand holding the papers. ‘You’re the new girl.’
‘New girl?’
‘My friend said the new exchange student was gonna be living with her. I’ll help you with your stuff,’ he said, and he seemed to be relieved to be busy. ‘Wow, this is
heavy.’
I spun. What was heavy?
A red trunk sat near my feet. It hadn’t been there before. I wondered how many more ‘red’ things might show up.
‘So you’re Tony,’ I said.
‘Why am I not surprised you know my name, mystery girl?’ he asked.
Tony handed his drawings to me and lifted my trunk.
‘These are really good,’ I said. I had expected to see portraits, which is what he used to paint. These though were depictions of the night sky in all kinds of mediums: acrylic,
pastel, watercolours. They showed incredible constellations: Ursa Major, Cassiopeia and Pegasus. That was my favourite. He had depicted the sky in dark blue, and thick white brush marks were picked
out the constellation of the horse. ‘I love these,’ I said, adding, ‘You’re talented.’
‘Oh, go on,’ he said, feigning modesty.
Tony pointed out all of the places I had to go to get my Wickham paperwork completed. Of course this meant we eventually had to stop at Hopper building to get my room key. As we approached the
familiar building, I purposefully did not look to the great stone tower where, in a different life, Tony had met his death. I kept my eyes on him instead and at the sun shining down on his
face.
‘So . . . do you always hug and jump on people when you meet them for the first time?’ he asked.
I laughed. ‘Just you, I think,’ I said as I opened the door.
Amazed at the sight of our reflection, I kept my eyes on the glass door. Tony and I walked inside.
Tony had left my trunk near the union entrance so I could get an incredibly delicious mocha latte. Once I got my keys and welcome packet, we headed outside. While I sipped on
my drink, I pretended to read an official Wickham Residence Hall orientation sheet. Really, I was making up questions I already knew the answer to so I could keep looking at Tony.
We approached a bulletin board erected next to the path near the union; on it were two posters. Each had a photo of a missing student. One was Justin’s. It was his student photo so he wore
a nicer dress shirt, a blue button-down, but in the poster it was muted grey. Justin’s handsome face was the same – the slim nose and pouting mouth – but in that picture I saw his
love of life, his positive outlook, and his need to live at the fastest speed possible.
‘That’s Jackie Simms,’ Tony said, nodding to the second missing-student photo. He placed my trunk on the ground and wiped some sweat from his forehead. ‘She went missing
in March.’ No doubt her disappearance was connected to Justin. Tony’s eyes lingered a moment too long on Justin’s poster.
‘And?’ I gestured to Justin’s picture just to see what would happen.
‘He was my friend,’ he said with a short clip to his words. ‘Been gone two years. This will be the third.’
Tony’s voice filled with silence and I regretted asking him about Justin.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, and we kept walking.
Tony led me to my dorm across the quad, past students and teachers organizing for the first day of school that would begin tomorrow. I wanted to ask him to go to the union again, to walk the
beach, to get my books, as we once had, but I had to keep my excitement under control. He wouldn’t remember that life; to Tony, it never happened.
‘And I’m living in . . .’ I checked the orientation sheet again. ‘I’m living in Turner?’ I said. Oh right, he wouldn’t remember that I had never lived
in Turner as most of the senior girls did. ‘I’m not in Seeker dorm?’
‘You want to live in Seeker? Teachers live there. And the debate team. You don’t want to live with the debate team.’
‘I don’t?’
‘Turner connects to Quartz, the guys’ dorm, through a hallway. So we can come back and forth.’
‘But you just met me,’ I said, cocking my head. I had to squint because of the sun. ‘You want to visit my room already?’
‘Well, you basically cried when you met me. That means I’m awesome, so obviously we’re gonna go up and down the hallway.’
Awesome. Gonna go. Clipped syllables. Yes, I was back in the modern world.
‘True . . .’ I said. ‘That sounds great.’
Tony led me into Turner and down the hallway. My nose was overwhelmed: perfumes, detergent and cleaning products. The list went on and on. The many smells and the sounds of music made my head
buzz. I was not fascinated by it as I had been years before when I first came to Wickham. It was like coming home, just a bit louder than I was used to.
Turner dorm was almost all windows on the right side. I had a perfect view of the woods and Wickham beach beyond. The sun’s beams fell at long golden angles through the trees. The slant of
the light meant it was ten in the morning. My mother and father were already halfway through their workday. I wondered if Fire had constructed it so they would not miss me or worry over my
disappearance. I touched my pocket where my mother’s lavender remained tucked away.
‘So this is room 102. Classes start tomorrow. But your roommate will be able to explain everything. You know, it’s lucky I was walking back from town. Maybe we wouldn’t have
seen one another.’
‘I have to do this one more time,’ I said and hugged Tony again. This time he didn’t just pat me; he squeezed me back.
He dragged my trunk into my room, next to the empty remaining bed.
‘OK,
now
I am going back to my room,’ he said.
I handed him his artwork, but I couldn’t resist watching him as he walked away. I had a dozen reasons to call him back. We could get coffee, gossip about the school or he could show me his
art space in the tower.
No. I had to enter this world again on my own and earn his friendship.
I also had to find Rhode as soon as I could.
My dorm room was fairly large with a twin bed on each side. There was also a massive bookcase, a bay window with a seat and, through another door, a bathroom. A blonde girl walked out of it
holding a toothbrush.
Well, I’ll be damned.
Tracy Sutton.
‘Hi,’ she said, smiling at me. She wiped a wet hand on her pink pyjama bottoms. ‘You’re Lenah? Am I saying it right? I’m Tracy.’
We shook hands and this time I fought the impulse to throw myself around her. Tracy had once tried to fight Odette, a vicious vampire; she was willing to go to bat against a whole
room
of vampires for Rhode, Vicken and me.
‘I took the left side; I hope that’s OK?’ Tracy asked.
I nodded. Tracy could have anything.
‘Yes, that’s great,’ I said aloud. I couldn’t be the weird and mute roommate.
A dark blue comforter with seashells decorated her bed. She had tacked up black-and-white posters of kissing couples and many pictures of her friends – my breath caught in my chest. Justin
was in some of those pictures.
I approached the mirror above her bureau. Tracy and Justin posed for a picture at a winter dance. Fake silver snowflakes dangled over a cheap blue fabric background. Tracy’s cheeks were
fuller in these photos. I guessed she was a freshman when they were taken.
‘Is this . . .’ I asked, pointing at the picture.
Hide it, Lenah. Be smarter than this.
‘. . . your boyfriend?’
Her smile fell immediately.
Not smooth, Lenah. Not smooth.
‘Well, yes. I mean, we broke up before he – not any more.’
‘Before . . . ?’
‘He’s missing. ’Has been for almost three years. You’ll see his picture around campus.’
She momentarily turned her back to me and placed her toothbrush down on her bureau.
‘So you’re British?’ She spun back to me with a huge plastered-on false smile.
‘Oh, um, yes,’ I said.
Get it together.
I had business to attend to. Fire left me the trunk for a reason. I opened it.
‘Like Rhode Lewin,’ she said. ‘He’s the other Brit on campus.’
The mention of his name tugged on my gut.
‘Exchange student?’ I asked, playing dumb. I moved a couple of sweaters out of the way and the sunlight caught the handle of a very ornate dagger. There were at least four more
daggers in there, so I slammed the trunk closed and sat down on top of it.
‘Yeah. Every single girl on campus is in love with him. But maybe you’ll get lucky since you have something in common. You know, being from England.’ Tracy had changed clothes
and picked up a pink cardigan. ‘I wish I could stay, but I have –’ She stopped and dipped her head a little. Her cheeks reddened. ‘I have chorus try outs.’
‘Chorus?’ I couldn’t help the crack of excitement in my voice.
‘Yeah, I
sing
. . .’ She actually sang the word sing, and it was rather good.
‘You
do
?’
She shook her head and her honey-coloured hair fell in a sheet around her angular face. When she smiled I was impressed by the whiteness of her teeth. Gleaming teeth the colour of porcelain were
a mark of the modern world. It was something my own mother noticed about me when I first returned, and it took weeks for me to make a proper toothbrush. The medieval world did not have
toothbrushes. And it most certainly did not have fluoride.
Tracy shook her hair out of her eyes.
‘I figure if I don’t audition now, it’s never happening.’ She shrugged.
She was trying to pretend it didn’t matter but it clearly did.
‘Well, I have absolutely no musical talent whatsoever, so I’m impressed,’ I replied.
‘Good, well, I know I’ll have a friendly face in the audience.’
She lifted her backpack over her shoulder.
‘Should I come?’ I asked.
‘No, no. Believe me – two hours of awkward solos? If you’re looking for something to do, there’s the union – they have TVs in there – or the beach, but the
sailing team will be doing some demos. Oh, they just built a huge farm this summer, if you’re into that. You know, sustainable living or whatever.’
What living?
‘It’s near the barn in the back of the lacrosse field. Just at the edge of the campus. And when I come back, we can have lunch? I should be here around twelve.’
‘The farm,’ I replied. ‘Perfect.’
Truthfully, I only grasped half of what she was talking about.
Though a farm was precisely what I needed. It would be comforting to be near the smells of home.