"When you feel homesick," he said,
"just look up. Becausethe moon is the same wherever you go."
-Donna Tartt
Harry Kay oversleeps on the first day of school.
I would say that it's a one-time thing, but I can't. He does this every year. It's not necessarily deliberate, it's more like... throwing something at his alarm clock and burying himself under his blankets again, groaning things like 'leave me the fuck alone' and 'I. Don't. Want. To,' even though he knows that being late will result in lunch detention.
Last year, Emma still came to his room in an attempt to wake him up, but this year the hallway stays nicely silent, and Harry peacefully sighs and turns around when he notices the same thing. Until his phone starts ringing.
I half expect him to start cussing the person on the other side of the line out, but when he picks it up, his voice is sugary sweet. "Hi babe," he says, his voice still thick with sleep. It's a sound that half of the campus population would kill to hear, but it's only reserved for one person at this moment: Charlotte St.Clair. The perfect girl, and one half of the perfect couple. In my honest opinion, they don't make such a good couple, but who am I to talk, right?
"Oh shit, I overslept! Sorry!" Harry's voice sounds through the room. It's a convenient effort, but after three years of being here, I can immediately tell that he's not being sincere. I'm quite sure Char can as well because I hear her huff on the other side of the line. Harry groans and flops back on his bed, his dark curls forming a halo around his head. "Yeah, yeah, I'm on my way." He hangs up on the call and lets his phone fall to the ground. With a last, mourning look at his pillow, he gets up and puts his uniform on. I can see him searching for his tie, that is laying at my feet, but he looks straight over it. "It's here!" I say, with a little smirk, but my voice doesn't reach his ears. It never does. At last, his eyes catch upon the yellow tie and he quickly puts it on, only half tying it as he grabs for his backpack and leaves his room. Despite Harry's hurrying, I can already tell he's going to be too late. The juniors and seniors don't sleep on campus. Instead, they are roomed in four buildings that are a few minutes away from the school buildings and the dorms of the freshmen and sophomores, which usually is quite a blessing because it means that we - they - can live a bit more freely. Today, however, the annoyance is obvious on Harry's face as he jogs along the road towards the Piaget building. If you're willing to listen to my educated guess: he's annoyed at himself for staying in his bed, because it meant missing breakfast. Good thinking, lad.
"Ah, Mr. Kay. So nice of you to join us," Mr. Taylor says with a friendly smile that somehow still conveys hostility, and Harry only rolls his eyes as he searches for an empty spot in the classroom. He sits down next to Rafe, making short, heated eye contact with Charlotte in the process. "Blegh," I say as I pull myself up so that I'm sitting on the windowsill, my legs dangling as they bump against the wall.
In my first year here, I was pretty interested in all the educational stuff. I was in the human world! But the novelty quickly wore off, and by now I have gotten a healthy distaste towards mathematics. Really. Who even likes that subject?
I quickly zone out as Mr. Taylor starts talking again, focusing my attention on the students that are assembled in the classroom instead. There aren't a lot of seniors at St. Jude - forty-three in total. Twenty-two of them are present in the class at the moment, and it seems like the whole crew is in it. The 'crew' consists of his royal princeling Harry and his friends. In alphabetical order: Charlotte, Emma, Felicity, Liam and Rafe. Together, the six of them can create quite a wreckage. Trust me, I've seen it. Charlotte, with her light blond hair and green eyes, is quite the image when you first lay eyes on her. But after hearing her speak, that might quickly change. Really, that girl might as well be a 70-year old spinster. Emma and Felicity though, they make up for the bore that is our dear little Char. Emma has white hair and icy blue eyes that have the cool tendency to turn blood red when the light falls down on them just right. When I first saw her, I thought she was a witch of some sort, but by now I know that she is simply cool. No more words needed. Felicity is... complicated. We will come back to her. (No, this is not me deflecting that I barely know anything about her despite my amazing spy-skills.) And then of course, we have Liam and Rafe. There is no other way to describe Liam than 'cute puppy'. Really. He has brown floppy curls that make him look taller than he actually is, and he's always smiling. Need a way to get cheered up? Look for Liam. Rafe has blonde hair that has grown back way quicker than expected since his impulsive buzz cut of last year. His mental age is seven. That is sufficient information, don't you think?
I sigh as I lean my head back against the window, the late August sun warm on my back. Somedays, I feel myself longing for that kind of friendship. It's only been four years, but I miss my home more and more. Signing up for this job was fun and all, but I wouldn't mind if it ended. Sure, I'd miss this world (the pizza's!), but the longer this lasts, the less it's worth it being away from home. And being invisible kinda sucks as well, of course. Despite the fact that I can make sarcastic comments whenever I want to without getting reprimanded, it becomes kind of lonely.
"Alright guys," Emma says, leaning over the lunch table. Her white hair is frizzy and falls down in waves over her back, creating some kind of regal image. "It's the first evening. What do we do?"
This is - just like Harry's sleeping in - another tradition they have. On the first evening of school, they will always find a way to spend the night together with all of them, causing as much ruckus as they can without getting caught. Charlotte groans as she eyes Emma from the other side of the table. "Aren't we a bit too old for this by now?"
I click my tongue as I shake my head at her in mock-disappointment. Always the killjoy, our dear Charlotte. Harry wraps his arm around her and tugs her against him. "C'mon babe. It'll be fun!"
She frowns. "It's childish."
Emma rolls her eyes and mutters something under her breath. I can't catch what she's saying, but it wouldn't surprise me if it wasn't friendly. I don't know what happened between them, but the relationship between Emma and Charlotte has been strained since day one. It could be because they both dated the same boy, but Emma doesn't strike me as the type to be jealous, and definitely not of Harry. After all, their friendship is still going strong, even after breaking up, and I don't see anything change that anytime soon.
"Let's go to the rooftop!" Rafe suggests with a grin. Emma seems to think this over, but then shakes her head. "Boring."
Rafe cocks an eyebrow at her, although she can't see his facial expression. "Since when is the rooftop boring?" She swats him away. "It's not necessarily boring. It's just boring on the first night of our senior year."
"You're making it sound as if you're going to lose your virginity or something," Liam pipes up, and Emma screws her face up at his words. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Li."
"We can go to the basement," Harry offers, breaking up the banter.
"Oh! Yeah!" Emma's face lights up with excitement. "That sounds like an excellent idea, Harold!"
He flicks a bit of his pasta at her face. "Not. My. Name."
She responds by poking him between his ribs. "Not. Like. I. Care."
I follow the conversation with interest, my head moving around as if I'm watching a ping-pong match.
"Don't forget we have soccer practice first tonight," Liam says. Emma groans, and even Felicity's face screws up at the words. "On the first day of school, really?"
Liam shrugs. "Levi wants us too." He looks over his shoulder towards Levi and his friends are sitting in the cafeteria. It's not that difficult to find them, they are almost constantly surrounded by a group of worshippers. They might not see it, but I know exactly what it means to worship someone and the pupils at Saint. Jude's definitely worship Levi. The soccer captain is holding court at his own lunch table, his two best friends closely at his side as a bunch of sophomores and juniors are drooling all over him. The freshmen are absent, like always. They're too afraid to get near that god-like creature, even though he really isn't that interesting in real life.
Charlotte leans her head on Harry's shoulder. "Do you guys really want to go to the basement?"
He shrugs as he presses a kiss on her head, being disgustingly cute in the process. "Why not? It'll be fun."
Charlotte's nose wrinkles. "It's a scary old place."
**
Harry
I suppress the sigh that is ready to escape through my lips at Char's words. "Babe," I say, "It's just an old basement. We'll hang around a bit, let Rafe set his tag, and get rip-roaring drunk." She huddles closer to me and says, "I know. It's just... I don't get why we can't just hang out on the rooftop or something. The basement..." She trails off and a shudder passes through her body at the mention of the room.
I flick her nose and grin down at her. "If anything, I'll be there to save you from the scary old place."
Charlotte rolls her eyes at me, but I can see a little smile seeping through her frown. Mission accomplished. Don't get me wrong, I like Charlotte, but sometimes she's a bit... uptight. I know that she overthinks everything she does, and it gets really hard sometimes to get her out of her head.
I turn my attention back towards Li and Rafe, who are discussing... I cock one eyebrow as I hear their subject. "Why, pray tell," I say, planting my elbows on the table as I lean forward, "are we talking about childhood traumas?"
Rafe grins at me, his blonde hair falling in front of his eyes as he bows his head lightly. "Li has been traumatized by Ratatouille as a kid, apparently."
"It's a damn scary movie!" Liam cries out. "I hated how the rat had so many near-death experiences."
"Yes well, I'm not the one to talk I guess," I say with a grin. "Apparently I always cried when I saw Dumbo when I was a kid because he was getting bullied. After a while, my aunt knew to skip that part in advance, so that I wouldn't start crying again."
"My biggest childhood trauma was Gone," Rafe says, tipping his chair back. "I still wince whenever I think about that book."
I see Emma's smirk a second before she starts talking, and I hiss, "No!", right before she says, "My biggest childhood trauma was waking up blind."
Everyone at the table groans, and I facepalm. Felicity gave her a dry look. "Girl, 'waking up blind' is a bit over the top, when you could only see 5% before that."
I have to bite my lip from laughing at her comment, and Emma growls and hits her, but the laughter is evident in her eyes. Only Charlotte frowns at the jokes.
**
When the school day has ended, we all walk back towards the junior and senior dorms. Liam, Emma, and I are all in the same building, so we wave goodbye to the others as we walk towards Montessori. Charlotte stays with us, like most days after school we'll study together in my room. I used to have the same routine with Liam, back when we used to share a room when we were newbies, but now he refrains from staying in my room when Charlotte is there as well, granting us some much-needed privacy one doesn't often get when attending a boarding school.
The off-campus buildings are built in a little U-shape around a central park with picnic tables and a little pond. The central building, Erasmus, is our 'common room', you could say. (Yes, the Harry Potter jokes are still going strong at this boarding school; we even have prefects. Luckily, the robes and hats have been forgone). In Erasmus, there is a huge room with couches and a tv that we use to hold movie nights. There is also a small library and a study space. Our building, Montessori, is on the right side. The first two levels are for the boys, the upper levels are the girl's dorms. Juniors and seniors are mixed, but unlike the freshmen and sophomores who have to share a room, we all have one of our own. There are no teachers that stay the night, but each building has a janitor, and two prefects, chosen from the seniors, who are the 'authoritative' figures.
Our prefects are Layla and Levi.
He's definitely not an authoritative figure.
Emma uses her keycard to push Monte's door open, and we quickly sign our names on the card. Normally, you have to write your name on it every time you enter or exit your dorm building, something that most pupils never do. We play it smarter though. We do it occasionally. That way, they never figure out that our names are not on the sheet.
Emma almost bumps into the door that leads to the staircase, so I give a little tug on her arm to get her on the right path again. You might not say it if you see her walking around, but Emma is visually impaired. Legally, she's actually even considered blind, but she can still see a bit. Vague shapes and colors, but it's something, I guess. She has albinism, so she was born with her eye condition. I met her on my first day as a freshman, when we bumped into each other on the staircase. She casually told me she couldn't see, then ran down the stairs as if it was nothing. I had never been as dumbstruck as that day, and for the first full week I was certain that she had been shitting with me, but her first P.E. lesson made it obvious that she had, in fact, not been kidding me.
"Let's go watch practice first, and then go to the basement together?" she asks when we reach the landing of the boy's rooms. "Sounds like a plan!"
The door falls back behind us and we can hear how Em races up the stairs towards her own room. "I cannot believe that Howell already gave us an assignment," Li groans as he rolls his neck. "Me neither." I roll my eyes and open my door. "Doesn't surprise me though. I'm quite certain he's gotten into this job for the sole purpose of torturing teenagers."
Liam claps me on the back before walking towards his own room.
Charlotte and I throw ourselves down on my unmade bed, and she immediately cuddles into me, her golden hair tickling my face.
"Hey babe," I say softly in her ear, and she responds with something intelligible, a mixture of a groan and a happy sigh.
We lay like that for some time, just enjoying each other's company and the safety that our closeness brings forth. My breathing slows down until it's peaceful, Char's body warm against mine as our hearts beat in the same rhythm.
**
Harry and the she-devil murmur sweet nothings back and forth, and because I don't feel like throwing up just yet I start doing sword exercises in the hallway. I don't use my actual sword - duh, I don't want to kebab anyone - just an old stick I found in the forest that is long and robust enough to function as a makeshift sword. The movements come easy and fluidly, and my breathing slows down until I'm in my own world. Inside the room, I can hear the voices of Harry and his girlfriend as they talk. It's something so normal, so... daily, this feeling of standing outside a room and hearing him talk that a sudden surge of homesickness strikes me.
It hits harder than I thought it ever could. It's raw and sharp-edged as it tears through me, like a hurricane that only leaves destruction in its wake. I fall back against the wall, pulling my knees up against my chest as I screw my eyes shut and will the feeling to go away, but it's no use. My mind is flooded with images of Thuihan, of home. The green rolling hills right outside the city, the overwhelming beauty of Starfall nights. And most of all, the feeling of magic in my veins. That liquid moonlight that shimmered through me with every breath I took. The feeling is everywhere, surrounding me with every ragged breath that tears through my body, and no matter how hard I try, it doesn't go away.
I push my head back against the wall and grit my teeth.
Fuck.
It's a never-ending pain, missing home. Black spots appear at the edge of my vision, and some part of my consciousness realizes that it is because I'm holding my breath in an attempt to make the pain go away. I know that I should open my lungs, let the much-needed oxygen in, but I can't. I can't be weak, and if I breathe I will feel the pain. And feeling pain brings forth weakness.
I'm not weak.
I'm Kosmaranya. I'm not weak. I'm not weak. I'm not weak.
I'm
Not
Weak.
I'm
Nightmare.