26. Stella
26
Stella
“An assembly? Does this happen often?” I whisper to Tree as we walk to the auditorium. We ran into each other in the hallway, and it’s nice to have someone I know I can sit beside when we get in there. Growing up, I didn’t have many friends, even in the supernatural schools. Here, though, I have collected a group of spirits that I feel comfortable around.
The other students crowd me, forcing me to pull my wings into my back for the first time since I arrived. Now that I’ve been living with them out, it’s obvious how unnatural it is to keep them restrained like this. It’s like I’ve handcuffed a part of myself.
I’m sure I look ridiculous now, the slits in the back of my shirt gaping open and showing off my bare spine and the tattoo I got the day I turned eighteen, but I’m going to have to own it in such close quarters. My wings are sensitive. I don’t want strangers pushing against them and touching them. It makes my skin crawl to think about anyone but my guys touching them.
“I’ve not been to one before,” Tree says in a flat voice. He’s moving a little slowly today, and it’s been a few days since I’ve fed him and his coven. I need to prioritize offering to help them out instead of waiting for them to ask.
I chew my bottom lip with nerves. It’s been two days since I spoke to Yuri. Three left in the countdown he gave me.
I should tell Ryan and Clay what is happening, but I’d have to talk to them first.
It’s not my proudest moment, but I have been avoiding being alone with them. Sure, we sit together for meals and chat, but with the coven and Jules around, we don’t discuss the kisses we shared.
They were just kisses. I shouldn’t be letting them mess with my friendships.
But it is possible that by trying to ensure they don’t mess up my friendships, I will inadvertently ruin them through avoidance.
I’ve been so wrapped up in my male problems that I forgot I contracted Blue to steal from Michael.
Fuck, I haven’t spoken to Michael in days.
I need to make a to-do list to keep track of everything I need to keep up with these males.
The auditorium is massive, with tiered seating looking down upon a stage. The design reminds me of an indoor amphitheater, with rows upon rows of black velvet seats with golden hardware adorning them. It’s sleek and expensive-looking, including the podium on the stage. It’s made of black and looks impossibly heavy as it stands empty, waiting for students to fill in through three sets of double doors.
I scan the crowd for a familiar face and come up empty, but Tree grabs my elbow. “Sia’s over there.” He drags me a few rows over, and I sit on one side of Sia while he takes the other.
Since she told me about the nature of her coven’s relationship, I’ve begun to notice the more intimate touches and looks between the four of them. They seem to have a beautiful dynamic that works seamlessly on the surface. I know relationships aren’t always easy, and one with four people has to struggle even more.
But it doesn’t stop my traitorous heart from imagining that maybe I could do something similar.
I need to talk with Ryan and Clay. I cannot keep putting it off, but I have been so overwhelmed lately.
And a little scared.
Okay, a lot scared.
What if I tell them I have feelings for both of them, and they think I’m a horrible person? What if they try to make me choose?
Or worse, what if they say I don’t have to choose, and then we try it out, and it’s horrible, ruins our friendship, and I’m left alone?
And how would they react if they knew I wanted more than just the two of them?
This strategic avoidance can’t continue forever.
Slowly, the stage fills with staff sitting in rows of black folding chairs I hadn’t noticed were set up behind the podium. I recognize quite a few of the teachers from my classes, but I’m straining myself looking for Michael. He’s been strange in his classes this week and rushes out of the room as soon as he’s done instructing. He won’t make eye contact with me.
Whatever he’s going through, he doesn’t want to talk to or see me, and it churns my gut. Is this about the ledger? Did Blue finally take it and he knows I must be behind it?
Shit. That has to be it. I bet I’m the only person he told, and I betrayed his trust. It would be nice for Blue to show up with it so I can copy it and get it back quickly.
Michael makes his way on stage, his usually impeccably neat appearance frazzled. His white hair looks unkempt and slept on, his pale blue button-up is wrinkled and untucked, and there are bags under his eyes that I can see from here. What is going on with him?
A female in a tight black pencil skirt, sky-high red stilettos, and a matching blouse approaches the podium. Her black hair is in a severe bob that swings around her chin as she leans toward the microphone. “Students, please settle, and we will begin.”
I’ve never seen this female before, but I know exactly who she is. There is no denying the family resemblance.
This is Yuri’s sister, the Deputy Headmaster.
The auditorium quiets, and she nods, holding her arms behind her back. “Thank you. All of the faculty and staff of Robert Sinclair’s Reformation Academy appreciate the swiftness with which you joined us this afternoon. For the new students who have not yet met me, my name is Abigail Rodgers, and I am Deputy Headmaster here at the Academy. Not knowing me is a good thing because it means you are following your rules.” She chuckles as she places her forearms on the podium, but no one in the audience joins in.
“We’ve gathered you today for an important announcement. I have received word from the Headmaster, Mr. Sinclair, that several government officials will visit the Reformation Academy next month. The other countries within our realm are in the process of setting up their own campuses of the Academy, so we will host them here to give them a first-hand experience of how things work here.”
The knot that has lived in my gut since I found out about our prison system twists, getting uglier with every word the Deputy Headmaster says. Other countries are looking to do the same thing to their supernaturals? That can’t be right. How can they see this and think that this is okay?
Sia shifts uncomfortably in her seat and mutters, “I don’t like the feeling of this.” I reach out and touch her forearm, nodding in support when she makes eye contact with me.
“Throughout their stay, each official will be assigned a student and faculty escort in order to showcase the wonderful level of change our facility is capable of. If you are assigned as an escort, a card will be waiting for you in your mail slot when you return to your room. You will spend the next month with your assigned faculty member, learning about the territory from which your official is from. You will represent the Academy well or be dismissed and sent to prison.” Those harsh final words echo through the auditorium, and the sound of hundreds of students shifting uncomfortably in their seats is the only thing in the air.
“Of course, that directive is not merely for the escorts. All students will represent this Academy appropriately or expect to receive severe disciplinary measures. Please be aware that these officials will be in your classes and dining hall, and they will walk through your towers. There is no place they will not be allowed access to.”
This level of access cannot be normal. A handful of strangers being allowed to creep unfettered through the halls feels like such an invasion of privacy that I can hardly believe it.
Abigail Rodgers runs her hands down the front of her tidy outfit and takes a small step back from the podium. “Their agendas while here are subject to change. All of you must be prepared to do whatever an official or a member of our faculty and staff requests. You’re dismissed.”