BORROWED [Watty Awards Finalist/NEWLY EDITED!]

Chapter Three

           |Orientation|

What am I witnessing? At the top of the opera house stairs, two men in gray suits seem to be in a heated conversation. The taller man clutches the other's lapels, yanking the man forward.

"Hello?" a female voice calls out.

I pull my gaze from the confrontation. A girl with short blonde hair stares in my direction. "Me?" I say.

She nods. "I was wondering if you're going to Orientation?" 

The girl looks to be my age, she steps closer. I sigh, and pull the scarf down from my mouth. "That's why I'm standing on these steps, and it's not because of my undying love for opera." When I glance back at the two men, I see them disappear inside the building. I turn back to the prying girl, narrowing my eyes.

She looks taken back, but then it fades away with a smile. "Great! Could we go in together? I'm a little nervous to be honest."

"Um..." I hesitate, not wanting to spark up a friendship.

This isn't happening, I don't "do" friendships.

"Thanks," she says, inviting herself along. "By the way, I'm Bianca." Her hand extends towards mine.

Slowly pushing my hand toward her, we shake. "Irissa," I say in an almost whisper.

She turns her head. "Sorry didn't catch that. What did you say?"

"Ehhhh-risssss-ahhhhhh," I say, again, this time I felt the need to exaggerate.

"That's such a cool name," Bianca says excitedly. "Sorry...I don't have many friends, being home schooled and all..."

Great, this girl is the clingy type.

My face feels warm from her chirpiness. I look away from her, and point at the entrance doors. "We're late," I say with satisfaction. "I'm planning on getting kicked out. Want to join me?" I'm just hoping she gets cold feet and decides to go inside alone.

Bianca smiles and grabs hold of my hand, pulling me along through the revolving glass doors. I try to yank free from her tight grip. We step inside and stop in awe. L' Opera is immaculate. Three large crystal chandeliers dangle high from the cathedral ceiling. A bounty of mosaics embellishes the walls in intricate colors and drawings.

"Holy crap!" Bianca says, her voice echoing in the lobby area. The receptionist glares at us, pointing toward the staircase. I notice one of the men from outside standing quietly at the bottom step. He glances down at a piece of paper in his hand.

"Y'all are late," the woman with a southern accent says at the front desk. "Just up them stairs is the dining hall." She waves her hand to dismiss us.

Bianca leads the way toward the staircase. The gray suited man steps forward, his arms crossing over his broad chest. He pulls back his shoulders, his nose high in the air as though he is sniffing us out.

Bianca freezes next to me. "Excuse us," she mumbles.

The man laughs. "Look what who we have here, a couple of lost pups," he says. I want to slap the stupid grin from his face.

Maneuvering in front of Bianca, I place my hands on my hips. "Excuse us," I say. "We're running late because of the sandstorm. And for your information, we're not pups. You're looking at a couple of teenage girls who are being forced to harbor those things."

Words just slipped from my tongue. I clamp my hand over my mouth.

"Things you say?" His eyes are pools of liquid blue - calm but menacing. "Those things are the future. I'd watch that ungrateful mouth of yours, brat."