Assassins Don't Go to High School

Chapter Two

This is not a closet. This is a broom cupboard. Certainly not an acceptable place to store clothing, especially my clothing. Not that these are really my clothes. I would never own a wardrobe this bland.

Cotton, polyester, and what is this, yarn? I think as I sift through the garments provided for me at the residence at which I will be staying while in Adarlan. Arobynn must not have had a say in the purchase of these clothes, his taste is even more expensive than mine. But I've roughed it far worse before, and while unenjoyable, this is definitely tolerable.

I sit down on the squeaky twin bed, decorated in a girlishly floral duvet. The previous owners of this house had probably filed bankruptcy, or perhaps just died, long ago, and it hadn't been lived in since. It was a one story ranch house built somewhere around the early 1970's, the walls needed repainting and the wood flooring was pretty worn, the countertops were all a weird baby blue ceramic, and the kitchen and bathrooms had peeling wallpaper covered in grapevines.

However, it was clear either Arobynn or Philippa had attempted to adorn the house in cozy modern decor. My room was decorated like any normal teen girl's would be, floral bedspread and lamps,white shag rug and white dressers, fake purple flower arrangements, and some scattered posters of movies or singers I've never heard of. Though, the room did have a nice book shelf with a pretty decent selection.

I abandon my search for any non-atrocious clothing items and settle for a cotton t-shirt sponsoring something called Imagine Dragons- which I figured had to either be a name for a Chinese child-care service or some low-budget anime TV show- and some jeans with questionable holes in both knees. I wander into the living area, separated from the kitchen only by a half wall, and find Philippa cooking something that smelt divine.

"Dinner will be ready soon." Philippa made grilled chicken, potato soup, steamed vegetables, and fluffy rolls covered in butter that made my taste buds explode. It was even better than the Guild's cooking. We eat in silence but as I'm putting dishes in the dishwasher, Philippa says, "You need to rest up, you start school tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" I scoff, "Isn't that a little soon?"

"Arobynn's request."

I finish loading the dishwasher and make my way back upstairs. This time I make my closet search as thorough as possible and wind up settling for some more jeans with tears and a decently cute grey sweater that I suppose is intentionally oversized, as my outfit for tomorrow. It's been a long time since I've been to a school, so I think I'm allowed to be a teensy bit excited. And nervous.

I make my way to the cramped bathroom across the hall and search the cabinets and drawers for makeup and hair supplies. I am not disappointed. Arobynn has provided a straightening and curling iron, hair spray, cream, and mousse, makeup of every kind and color, and even various scented perfumes and lotions. I sigh in delight, picking out some vanilla smelling shampoo and soap and take a long shower.

* * *

The next morning I awake to the pleasant sound of banging pots and crack open an eye to see Philippa standing in my doorway, smiling cheekily when she sees that I have awoken. "'Morning sweetpea. Time to rise and shine, you've got an hour."

I groan and slowly make my way out of bed. I dress at snail-pace and then trudge to the bathroom to begin my beauty routine. Once I'm done I look myself over satisfied, hair flawlessly curled and makeup done to perfection, I leave the bathroom with fifteen minutes remaining.

"I made you waffles," Philippa says as I prance into the kitchen, "Arobynn thought it was important to mention your preference for them over pancakes." I smile at my plate, Arobynn knows me well. These waffles are quite delicious.

"Alright, let's go and get this over with," I say grabbing my assembled-for-me backpack and walking toward the brand new SUV in the driveway.

The car ride is relatively silent and Adarlan High School is only a five minute drive. For such a small town, the school building is breathtakingly large and resembles a castle. Made entirely of stone with spires and doors made of blue tinted glass. The grand foyer was grand to say the least. High windowed ceilings, grey tiled floors, walls made of stone rather than the typical cement blocks, overlooking balconies from the second and third floors, and a wide, seemingly never-ending, hallway with countless smaller hallways branching from it.

"How the hell could a town that doesn't even have a Target afford a high school like this?" I mutter under my breath.

"Adarlan High School was bought out around ten years ago and is now a privately owned academy, that allows in and out-students," says a voice from behind. I turn to face a tall young man around my age with strikingly black hair and a pretty face. He stands properly with his hands folded in front of him, wearing perfectly-ironed khakis and a button down. I feel underdressed, but I'm aware I look stunning nonetheless and subtly toss my hair and change my stance in a flirtatious manner.

"Well, thank you for informing me..." I pause, suggesting he provide his name.

"Dorian. Dorian Havilliard, and whoever might you be?" He asks taking my hand and kissing it softly. If I hadn't been trained so extensively, I would have blushed for sure. But I kept my face the perfect mix of bored and charmed.

"Lillian," I respond over-sensualizing the l's.

"Well, Lillian, it's a pleasure to meet you," Dorian straitens his spine. "If you'd like, I could give you a tour?" he offers.

I turn to Philippa who's being tended to by a secretary of some sorts, I face Dorian. "I would love for you to give me a tour." 

* * *