Faith Heights

Chapter 2

Dad dropped my bags at his feet. "Do you want our help unpacking?"

I smiled, shaking my head. "No, I'll be fine. You should probably head back if you want to make it to the motel before nightfall." Mum looked wary, so I added, "I've got an orientation meeting, anyway. I'll unpack later."

With lingering hugs, my parents started back across the lawn. We didn't bother with formal goodbyes- they were too permanent a gesture. I watched them from my room's window until they moved out of sight, and dawdled around the room for a while before traipsing back downstairs. My brown bag carrying the orientation packet bounced against my hip as I headed down the winding staircase, shadowed and unnerving despite its immaculate state. 

Mere steps out of the doorway, a sudden gust flurried across the lawn, half-knocking my glasses from my nose. My bag would have been cast into the wind- if not for the sturdy figure I'd stumbled into. 

I spilled out a mechanic, "Sorry," before squinting up at the body before me. The boy, a tall, lanky creature covered in scraggly brown hair and the school's black blazer, looked lumbering enough to not even feel the bump. Still, he turned to face me with a startlingly bright smile.

"No apologies necessary. If I looked as lost as you, I probably would have knocked into the first person I saw, too." He teased with a bark of laughter. 

I jostled my glasses. "I'm not lost. Just searching for the orientation hall." 

I went to move on, but something in his face kept my feet planted. His chocolate brown eyes and long, angled face held a strange touch of familiarity. It was so unexpected in a place like this- it would have been easy enough to overlook. 

Before I could remark on it, the boy quirked an eyebrow, a curious smirk replacing his grin. "Wait- do I know you?"

I mirrored his expression, nodding slowly. "I think so. I'm Lila Simmons." It took another minute of artless gawking before I could place his features. "Did we attend school together?"

His brown eyes widened, his brow retreating beneath stray tufts of the nest atop his head. "Oh, yeah. Lila Simmons! From Griffith. I think we were in primary school together for a couple years. I'm Jackson Moran."

 He moved forward, as if for a hug, before electing to extend his hand. His grip shook my entire arm, and my bag strap jostled as he added, "Didn't you have an older sister that tried to flood the toilets?"

"Yeah, that was her." I replied stiffly. Steph had been in fifth grade when she'd drowned the entire toilet block in the hopes of receiving the rest of the day off, primarily to avoid the weekly spelling test.

Jackson's name brought to mind the image of a small, bony child with a mop of brown locks. I didn't remember much about him, except that he'd once brought a pet lizard to class. From what I could recall, after he'd moved schools, no one had heard a single word from him or his family. 

His eyes skimmed the brochures haphazardly stuffed into my bag. "Did you just move into the dorms?"

I nodded. "I arrived a few minutes ago."

His smile morphed into something of a question. "That's great. You'll love it here. They make the transition as easy as possible for students that have been integrated on the outside for so long." He paused, before blurting, "Why did your parents choose to keep you at a normal school for so long?"

Integrated on the outside? I frowned. "Normal? I was just accepted into Faith Heights a few days ago. What do you mean?" Did 'normal' mean a public school?

His eyes fluttered even wider. "Oh, you're here on a scholarship! Sorry- I didn't realise. You really don't look nearly as lost as most newbie scholarship students."

I peered down at my watch. "Well, that'll probably come on in a few minutes if I can't find the orientation hall."

Jackson smiled encouragingly. "It's just across the field." He pointed to a slighter building to my left, next to another housing wing. "I'll walk you over."

I shook my head, but Jackson waved off my rebuke with irritatingly long, easy strides towards the hall. I practically had to jog to keep pace.
"Have you lived in Faith Heights since you left Griffith?" I queried.

His answer was a sunny nod, and I left my next question in my eyes, too much of a coward to voice it: And you've learnt to enjoy living here?

He shrugged, humouring me. "Faith Heights is a pretty severe change from the likes of a small town like Griffith, as you can probably already tell. But moving here was probably the best decision I ever made."

His encouraging tone was both relieving and confusing; it wasn't as if Griffith was a terrible town to have a childhood in. "Did your family attend the academy here, too?"

"Some of them. I didn't know about my family's... history here until just a few years ago, when I started attending the school myself." His stride hitched as he hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully. "You'll definitely have your eyes opened at this school, that's for sure. The education really is tailored for each and every student."

As we arrived in front of the hall, I could hear bustling voices leaking from within. The one-story building appeared miniature in comparison to the main structure, a doll house to begin the new students' integration. 

I turned to Jackson. He was squinting at the open-doored hall with a cocked head, as if observing a foreign species for the first time. I was sure my features were contorted in a similar unsettled curiosity- but where his gaze was directed at the people within the building, mine was at the building itself.

"Thanks for the directions." I quickly spouted, confessing, "It's...nice to know that there's a familiar face around here."

He saluted me. "No thanks needed. And I intend to find out all about the scandals in Griffith that I've missed over the last decade."

My lip quirked up. "If you call changing font size in the local newspaper scandalous, then you're going to have your jaw on the ground for quite some time."

"I hope so." He beamed, revealing a perfect row of sharp teeth. "I'll catch up with you later, Lila."

I smiled at his back as he withdrew across the lawn, hoping that it was a sincere comment. With the whirlwind of my acceptance and cross-country move, I'd barely had time to worry about the social implications of changing schools. But already possessing one friend in my arsenal meant I'd have less stuttered, forced introductions to look forward to.

Now, all I had to worry about was the other few thousand students.

And so I stepped forward, through the entrance into a world of breathtaking and wicked truths.