Chapter 8 #2
Wait, what? This was not something that was mentioned in my talks with Clara. Sure, there was a section in the introductory packet and the student handbook about dress code, but I had skipped over it. What kind of college doesn’t allow jeans and T-shirts?
Suddenly, I’m panicking again, trying to remember how many outfits I brought that actually fit the dress code. Not many, that’s for sure.
Chancellor Aldrich continues with information about student resources, information about who to contact about various concerns, and a reminder that there will be an extracurricular fair on the lawn in front of the castle on Wednesday.
Finally, she concludes her remarks with encouraging words about how we’re all here to make a difference and reminds us that we’re all expected to strive for excellence, then dismisses us for the rest of the evening.
When I stand and turn to shuffle out of the auditorium along with the hundreds of other students, I spot Max striding out of the auditorium from her seat in the very back row. I’d forgotten she would be here, too.
Outside, the sky is dark and the temperature has dropped enough to make me grateful for my jacket.
The cool sea breeze tousles my hair, and instead of making my way back to my dorm, I circle the auditorium, walking in the opposite direction of every other student, and do something I’ve wanted to do since I got here.
I make my way to the coast, following the softly illuminated pathway away from the campus buildings.
The sidewalk curves to follow the cliffside, and a solitary bench sits just beyond it, between the path and the sea.
Further down the path, just far enough to barely make out, is a set of smaller buildings separated from the rest of campus.
Pulling out my map as I sit, I find the sectioned-off area and realize it’s the staff housing.
I return the paper to my bag and sit, breathing in the salty ocean air and lulled by the rhythm of the waves crashing against the jagged cliffs.
The sky is what calms me most of all, though.
Out here, there’s no light pollution to dull it.
Bright stars scatter across the inky sky, mesmerizing in a way that I can’t explain.
It’s only here and now, tucked away on this small island, that the world feels infinite and full of possibilities.
The vast expanse of the ocean and the sky fading into each other in the distant darkness provides some much-needed perspective on how small my own world really is, how inconsequential my problems are in the grand scheme.
Before tonight, I’ve been nothing more than an infinitesimal blip in existence. But maybe now, with my newly discovered power, I can manage to make something more of myself. I could carve out a path in this world rather than float along with the current like I have been.
Hell, maybe the Chancellor’s speech got to me more than I thought.
I wake up early on Monday to intermittent reverberations of footsteps in the hallway outside my door, and even though the sun is barely cresting the horizon, washing my room in warm shades of pink and orange, that nervous first-day-of-school excitement bubbles in my chest and makes it impossible to fall back asleep.
Checking the time on the old manual alarm clock the school provided, I see that it’s only forty-five minutes before my alarm is set to go off, anyway.
Max is out of the room already, and I’m grateful she seems to be a morning person to the extreme.
Her bed is made, her dark comforter neatly tucked under the edges of the mattress.
The only indication of change from yesterday is the four articles of clothing left on the bed, which make me wonder if she actually does care, at least to some degree, what people think of her.
She’d probably never admit it, but it’s good to know that maybe there’s a heart in there after all.
I shower in the communal bathroom down the hall, which is filled with the sound of hair dryers running and the other women chatting excitedly with their friends as they do their makeup in the mirrors.
Eavesdropping while I shower, I hear gossip about other students and professors, tales of people’s summer trips to expensive destinations I could only dream of, and nervous discussions about what classes will be like.
I’m in and out quickly, electing to do my hair and makeup in the quiet of my empty bedroom instead.
I should stay in the bathroom and attempt to make friendly conversation with some of the other girls, but I’m already anxious about my first day of classes and need to conserve my social battery, at least for today.
I had spent the better part of last night panicking and digging through my closet, separating my clothes into wearable and not wearable, cursing myself for not reading the dress code more thoroughly.
Finally, I had decided on my outfit for my first day: a green dress with off-shoulder sleeves and a cinched waist. Beneath the waist, it gently flows outward, and the hem falls to mid-calf.
I pair it with strappy black sandals and decide to leave my wavy auburn hair down for the day, knowing that once labs start, I’ll have it in a ponytail much more frequently.
Outside, campus seems to glow with the morning sunlight, the gray stone buildings sharp against the brilliant sky. I join the traffic of students walking along the pathways, many headed toward the same destination as me.
Today, the dining hall is brimming with people and the buffet is in full swing.
I join the line of students, grab a plate, and fill it with scrambled eggs, bacon, and pancakes, knowing I’ll need the energy today.
Most importantly, I fill my travel mug with coffee, grateful I remembered to shove it in my backpack at the last second this morning.
Despite the full room, I don’t see any of the three people I know, so I find a seat at the edge of a table and eat quickly. When I go to leave, I refill my coffee and set off toward my first class of the day.
Introduction to Magic and Magical Theory starts at 8am.
The classroom is on the second floor of the castle, making it a short walk upstairs from my morning breakfast in the dining hall.
The main hallways in the castle are wide, with large windows letting in the natural daylight, but the hallways that branch off into the depths of the building are narrow and dark, lit by sconces similar to the ones in my dorm building.
The air is noticeably cooler in them as well, the echo of footsteps bouncing off the stone walls, and I find myself grateful for the constant stream of other students.
I can’t imagine how eerie it would feel to be alone in these corridors.
I finally find the correct classroom, and it’s a large room with tables that seat two people each instead of individual desks.
I take a seat in the first row, near the windows on the far side of the room that overlook the front lawn of the castle.
From here, I can just make out the coastline of the island and the massive stretch of dark water beyond in the distance.
Students filter in, most of them a few years younger than me and looking just as nervous.
However, it’s difficult not to notice how put-together they all are, how much their appearances already make me feel like an imposter.
Sure, I’m wearing a dress today, but it pales in comparison to what the rest of the class is wearing.
The men are mostly in nondescript slacks and button-downs, but many of the women are put-together in a way that elicits both jealousy and awe.
Tailored, perfectly-fitted, brand-name clothing, delicate matching accessories, and flawless hair and makeup.
Beauty and wealth are clearly not in short supply on this campus, and here I am, the poor scholarship student.
But there’s no use in comparing myself to those who undoubtedly come from generational wealth, even if my insecurities surface because of it.
When the seats begin to fill up, I busy myself by taking out my notebook and a pen then scanning the various charts and illustrations on the wall of magical symbols and elemental magic variations.
A man who looks to be in his thirties sits in the seat beside me, and we exchange a friendly smile but nothing more.
The professor arrives two minutes before eight, and the class falls into silence when she takes her place at the front of the classroom. She’s a pretty, middle-aged woman with soft, rounded features, medium-length brown hair, and a gentle demeanor.
“Hi, everyone. I’m Professor Jenny Showen, and welcome to Introduction to Magic and Magical Theory.
I’m a Generalist with a doctoral degree in history, both magical and not, and I’ve been teaching here for over twenty years now.
Each of your professors will have different preferences on how to be addressed, but please just call me Professor Showen or Ms. Showen. Doctor just feels too formal for me.”
A low hum of laughter sounds from a handful of students before she continues. “We’ll spend today going over the schedule and topics for this semester, and we’ll spend a little time going over some basic information and context for future classes.”
She takes attendance, calling out our names one by one and having us raise a hand when called. Once all the students have been accounted for, she gestures to one of the women seated at a table in the other front corner of the room.
“This is Clarissa Alder, and she’ll be my TA for this course, so you’re welcome to direct any questions toward her throughout the semester. Clarissa, would you like to introduce yourself?”