Nyx (ON HOLD)

First Day, Part IV

I knew Keiko wasn't anywhere near me as I ducked through the pale stone archway at the front of Marblehead High School, darting through the current of students like a shy minnow — I'd seen the silver-haired girl heading behind the school somewhere, in the entirely opposite direction. She'd been following the line of the chicken-wire fence, perhaps going to one of the athletic fields that sprawled on the treeless plateau behind the school. There was no reason I should be worrying about running into her again, yet still my heart beat with unnatural fierceness until I elbowed my way into the main office.

To my horror, the administrative suite was as cramped as the hallways outside it; I'd been hoping this front section of the school was typically narrow and high, but that seemed the general architecture of the place. When I really started counting, there weren't that many students trying to fight their way through the school's clogged arteries — it was simply that the building itself was over capacity.

The woman wedged behind the front desk seemed to be perfectly adapted to her niche, the rectangular line of her fuschia-cardiganed shoulders fitting neatly between the desk and the burly filing cabinets that flanked her. She smiled with recognition as she saw me — and though I could feel my face contorting, I couldn't stop the grimace of terror.

"Melody, isn't it?" The woman spun and dropped in her chair so suddenly that for a moment I thought she was falling — but she was only pulling a slim manila envelope from a set of narrow pigeonhole-style cubbies set down beside her knees. She proffered it to me as she sat back upright, her tight honey-blonde curls bouncing against her blushing cheeks. "Here's your schedule, dear."

My fingers closed around the envelope instinctively, but I still couldn't understand why the woman — Ms. Adams, if the matte black name card was accurate — was being so open with me. "Don't you need to see my ID or anything?"

"Oh, we don't have student IDs here," Ms. Adams reassured me with a concerned smile, mishearing me completely. "Principal Jenks says we got your transcripts just fine, so you should be all set."

"Thanks," I answered automatically.

Ms. Adams gave me another pleased smile and nodded a little, dismissing me.

I automatically stumbled back out of the school's office, in and out of the place so fast that the relentless tide of students rushing to classes hadn't even had time to ebb. Fortunately there was a sort of semicircular alcove a short way down the nearest hall, just barely large enough to hold a few people, so I let myself be borne along until I reached it and pulled myself to safety.

The closeness of the school's brick walls and the sour smell of old sweat were so overwhelming that it took a few shaky seconds to make sense of the words as I finally opened the manila file Ms. Adams had given me. Even then it didn't make sense — classes were listed beneath the words "Blue" and "Silver," but if they were supposed to be days of the week, which one was today?

"Mel!"

I was almost relieved to hear Ethan's voice amid the cacophony of chattering voices; in that moment, I would've clung to anything familiar. But my relief started to fade as I saw the girl at his elbow, crowding close as they forded the torrent of other students. All I wanted was to be left alone — was this some kind of welcoming committee?

"This is Sydney," Ethan explained as he and the girl piled into the alcove with me. His dark eyes found the papers in my hand, and in the next second he'd snatched them away to examine them.

"Hey!" I snapped.

The dark-haired boy yelped as his companion easily plucked the papers from his fingers and returned them to me. Sydney shook her head, pale lips pursed and eyes narrowed behind black-rimmed glasses. "I'm sure Ethan just forgot his manners today. And, like, every day." He opened his mouth to protest, but she elbowed him sharply in the ribs. "Seriously, dude — chill. Mel's obviously overwhelmed, you breathing down her neck isn't helping."

I could feel myself relaxing a little at her tart words, and even smiled a little in relief. "Thanks. So Ethan told you who I was, huh?"

"Welcome to the town, proverbial neighbor!" Sydney teased lightly before glancing at the papers again. "Need help translating?"

I nodded. "Please."

"Let's see..." The other girl moved beside me and peered down at the pages with the gravitas of a bespectacled sage, her long auburn hair cascading down her shoulders in my peripheral vision. "So Mondays and Wednesdays are always Blue Days — so you'll always have English Lit, study hall, Social Studies, and then Graphic Design — and then on Tuesdays and Thursdays you'll have Algebra II, Earth Science, Spanish, and P.E."

"Guessing this isn't one of those progressive schools where there're only four days of classes a week, huh?" I hazarded hopefully.

"Sorry," Sydney replied with a wry smirk. "Fridays alternate — and believe me, the way they announce it the day before, you'll never be able to say you forgot if you didn't do your homework."

I laughed a little at that. "Noted."

"Ooh, hey, what's this?" Sydney shoved her glasses further up the bridge of her nose and squinted down at my scant sheaf of papers again, bending forward a little as she regarded the type. "So you have that special P.E. — it's not here at the school, but down at the gym."

She pointed, and I followed her finger to the word off-site. "So I have to leave school every other day just to get to my own classes?"

"It's just across the street," Ethan interjected. "You'd have a longer walk going from one end of the school to the other.

Adaline must've somehow known I was a swimmer. I wasn't sure whether to be impressed by that or rage at her for invading my privacy. Had she gone through my belongings? No...the boxes that held things like my swimsuits hadn't even arrived yet. The silver-and-crystal pendant in my pocket seemed to weigh more than ever.

Maybe Zoë told her. Yeah...that had to be it.

We all looked up in alarm as one of the klaxons buzzed again, and the tide of students surged faster than ever. A hundred lockerside conversation were breaking up around us, scattering like dandelion spores, and I didn't even mind as I felt Sydney clamp onto my forearm, dragging her with me as she shouted, "C'mon, I'll walk you to English Lit, you'll get lost on your own."

There wasn't time to say goodbye to Ethan, and I could only shrug apologetically as Sydney pulled me away. His obsidian gaze followed me, as though he'd meant to say something more — and though I wasn't entirely certain, I thought I caught the flash of mercury-silver hair in the corridor behind him before Sydney pulled me around a corner and out of sight.

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NEXT TIME: Sydney fills Mel in about the tense situation in Marblehead, as well as the pivotal role her grandmother Adaline is playing between the fishermen and the foreign fleet.