Chapter Fourteen
FOURTEEN
FOR SOME REASON, THE BMA back to school pep rally starts at the ass crack of dawn.
One perk of going to a swanky private school is that there’s apparently enough funding to provide the entire student body with a catered breakfast. Daisy, Sam, and I sit huddled together as we wait for the festivities to begin.
“Who has pep rallies in the morning, anyway?” I grumble, kicking the crumpled Bojangles bag at my feet and swiping the Bo-Berry Biscuit crumbs from my lap.
Sam grunts in agreement, and Daisy’s eyes drift across the field as she slurps the last dredges of her sweet tea. “Where’s the band? They should be on the field by now.”
I glance at Sam in question.
“Her ex plays the trombone.”
“Emma,” Daisy spits, sitting up straighter as a line of navy blue and marigold starts to make its way across the side of the field.
“Bad blood?” I ask, repeating what she asked me about the boys yesterday.
Daisy scoffs. “I wouldn’t say bad blood, just that Emma is a liar and a cheater who doesn’t deserve anything good to happen to her ever again!
” She curls her fists and does a weak double punch into the air.
“She does look really good in that fancy jacket though,” she whines, peering down at a girl with purple hair and dark, smudgy eyeliner.
The sun’s rays have replaced the gentle breeze, beating down against the artificially green field and warming the back of my sore neck.
My first night was tainted by fitful sleep, unused to the lumpy mattress, tormented by the knowledge that every single thing in my life has changed and I have no control over any of it.
A mild headache throbs at my temples.
As Headmaster Matsoukas ambles across the field, a hush befalls the crowd.
Standing behind a single podium central to the bleachers, he’s wearing a navy sweater over a white button-down, the collar laid neatly at his neck.
When he turns to face his students, he carefully pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose before bending down to tap the mic.
“Good morning, Black Mountain Academy!” A clump of clouds drift across the sun, the dimming light casting a shadow that darkens the planes of his face.
“Welcome to a brand-new school year! I trust that you all had safe and productive summers and that you’ve come back to us wiser, brighter, and more worldly.
We’re excited to start this year on a new foot and are compelled to take the lessons of the past into a future that is safer for all our students. ”
The headmaster’s words remind me of the missing girl. Fiona. I look to Daisy and Sam, wondering if they’re thinking of her too, but their faces give nothing away.
Alastair Matsoukas clears his throat. “But I don’t want to get ahead of myself! This year will be full of learning, laughter, and a win at states!” At this, a thunderous round of applause erupts from the crowd, the aluminum bleachers shaking as hundreds of feet slam against the metal.
“I would like to welcome our freshman students.” The upperclassmen give a halfhearted boo. “And I would love to wish our seniors the best of luck in their final year here on campus.” The howling from the seniors is overwhelming.
Headmaster Matsoukas’s eyes swim through the sea of faces before locking on to my own.
“And finally, I would like to welcome our transfer students to this wonderful school. We are happy to have you and look forward to building a future united.” His arms spread wide, and his face remains pleasant, but there’s something about the look in his eyes—though it’s so fast, I doubt it happened at all.
When he’s done, the football coach calls the team onto the field. They run through a banner to whoops and cheers and the crinkling of pom-poms shushing together.
Malachi leads the pack, his red hair flopping into his eyes with every strike of his feet against the ground. He flicks his head to remove it.
I track him across the field, tugging at the bottom of my black shorts and straightening the neckline of my tie-dye Keep Asheville Weird T-shirt. In the bright light of the morning sun, he’s radiant as he laughs at something his friends are saying.
Like a pendulum, my attention swings between him and a different player. Black curls dust the edge of Lucas’s jaw, and he smirks when his gaze finds mine searching, his head lifting in a knowing nod. For some reason, my cheeks grow warm as I glance back to Malachi.
Loose gray sweatpants sit low on his hips, the right leg rolled up lazily, and a navy BMA Mountain Wolves crewneck barely hovers over the elastic waistband, a sliver of taut, pale skin peeking out.
Sunlight glints off the onyx carbon fiber of his leg.
Strokes of black ink swirl at the edges of his wrists and the base of his throat.
Are those… tattoos?
As if he can feel me staring, Kai finds my face in the crowd. Almost imperceptibly, the bridge of his nose wrinkles, the corners of his full lips pulling down.
“Ugh!” I scoff, scowling in kind.
“You okay?” Sam asks, glancing in Malachi’s direction.
“Yeah, I just hate him.”
“Wait, you never told us the tea yesterday,” Sam says, scooting closer. “I didn’t realize things were that bad between you.”
Daisy tsks in agreement. “Hate is a really strong emotion…” She looks from him to me and back again. “You’re sounding very Daisy-Emma right now, actually.”
“Yeah,” Sam mutters around a Bo-Tato round. “It’s giving heartbreak.”
When I don’t respond, Daisy gasps, turning to straddle the bench and grab me by the shoulders. “Are y’all exes?!”
“What? Ew! No way. We never—we didn’t—it’s not—”
“Are you trying to come up with a lie right now?” Daisy asks, incredulously.
“No!” I screech. “It’s just… it’s complicated! He didn’t… we were never together or anything! He used to be my best friend. But then things got complicated”—the understatement of the century—“and he ghosted me.”
Daisy puts a hand on either side of my face. “Do you want me to hex him? Be honest. Because I have no qualms with using my powers for evil.”
My stomach hurts from laughing. “No hexes needed here, Daze, but I appreciate your loyalty.” I cross my legs. “They both ghosted me, actually. He and Lucas.” And maybe I deserved it. After everything.
For what I said to Malachi. For telling Lucas I regretted that moment between us.
“That’s really fucked up, Harper, I’m sorry,” Sam says, running their hand through their hair.
“So, you hung out with the both of them? Together?” Daisy asks.
“… Yeah?”
“Interesting.”
Daisy and Sam share a look.
“What?”
“Oh, it’s just… they might be cousin-brothers or whatever, but they’re not friends. They’re actually, like, weirdly cold to each other.”
There’s a buzzing in my ears.
What happened between them? Between all of us? It’s obvious I’m missing a crucial piece of information.
But for now I don’t know what to do about it, so I stick it in my back pocket, another unraveling thread to investigate.
The rally goes on long enough that the midday sun is high in the air by the time we’re done. We peel our sweat-sticky thighs from the too-hot metal bleachers and make our way down to the field.
The rest of the day is free, with informational booths about clubs and sports peppered around campus.
I figure I’ll check out the art building and do a mock run of my schedule so I don’t get lost on the first day of classes.
I’m also considering joining the Creative Media Club or maybe Forest Watch.
I’ve never been into extracurriculars before, but that was the old me. Perhaps it’s time to try something new.
We’re caught in a traffic jam of students leaving through the gates of the stadium when I feel a gentle tap on my shoulder.
Turning around, I lift my right hand to shield my eyes and am met with a lopsided smile punctuated on either side with a dimple.
“Hey,” I say, clearing my throat awkwardly when the words get caught on the way out.
His grin barely wavers at the edge, and I chastise myself for immediately making it weird.
It’s just Lucas. A tall and lean, ripped out of Sports Illustrated, Lucas.
A completely leveled-up version of the boy I left behind.
His muscle tee is cut low on the sides, revealing a set of abs that are totally CW teen-drama worthy, and his mouth is accented with a bright white scar running through the side of his upper lip.
He sticks out his hand, looking at me expectantly, and I hesitate before placing my palm in his.
“I figured we could use a reintroduction,” he says. “Your name is?”
“Harper,” I reply, barely able to hold in my laugh.
“It’s nice to meet you, Harper. My name is Lucas.”
“Hi, Lucas,” I say, though my words sound weird and clogged with emotion. Over the last year, this is all I really wanted, but I’m confused about what’s changed. Why now?
He pulls me to his chest and wraps his arms around my shoulders.
We’re both covered in sweat, but my heart stutters as I place my face in the crook of his neck and breathe him in.
The scent calls visions of swaying cattails and the sounds of the whispering creek winding through the woods of Willow Estate.
I wish it weren’t true, but despite everything, he smells like summer.
“I’ve missed you,” he says into my hair.
“You could have called,” I mumble bitterly.
He pulls back and looks into my eyes. “No, I couldn’t.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I can’t—”
“Who’s this?” A voice booms from behind me.
I jump, turning to take in the blond guy approaching us.
“New girl? Oh shit, yeah! You’re the one that passed out in the caf yesterday!
You sure you’re supposed to be out here in the sun?
” He gives me a once-over before shaking his head.
“Doesn’t matter! I see you’ve met our future el presidente! The king!”
I turn to Lucas, raising an eyebrow at this guy’s ignorance, but he just gives me a sheepish shrug.
“Nah, she and I go way back,” Lucas says, winding his arm around my shoulders. “But Harper, this is Coyote Dan. He’s like the school mascot… if our mascot was a coyote and not a wolf.”
“So then why is he called Coyote Dan?” I ask at the same time Coyote Dan screams, “Go Wolves!” before crouching onto his hands and howling at the sky.
“I…”
“Don’t question it,” Daisy says from my other side, looping her arm through mine. “There’s not a single sane person at this school.”
Lucas leans forward to look at her. “Daisy, how was your summer? You haven’t said hi to me yet.”
Daisy makes a face. “I spent the summer sacrificing boys to the demon that lives inside me.”
“Ha!” Lucas laughs, his chest shaking against my side. “You’re hilarious.” He turns to smile down at me with his frosty irises lined by charcoal lashes, and I gulp, ducking from beneath his arm.
“Anyway, listen, Harps, I really do want to start over. And you know, we probably need to talk some more. It’s been too long.
So much has changed…” A whistle blares from somewhere across the field.
Lucas scratches the skin of his ribs as he backs away.
There’s something there, too. Black script, the last three letters of a painfully familiar name…
xie. Where the hell would they have even gotten tattoos from? “But I miss you, for real.”
“Uh, yeah, for sure.” My cheeks warm. “Same.”
He’s saying all the things I’ve wanted to hear. But it’s not enough, somehow. My chest still squeezes uncertainly.
He winks before turning and jogging off to join the football team in the end zone.
I turn to Daisy, my eyes wide. “Whoa. That was…”
“Girl, no. He may be, like, the hottest guy to walk the face of planet earth, and I don’t know the details of the history between you two, but the vibes are most definitely sus as hell.”
I stare at the way the muscles in his chest move while he’s stretching, the sun bouncing off the sweat like glitter.
“You’re right,” I say. Because she is right, something is off between us. All three of us. “But there’s no harm in looking.”
I sign up for Creative Media Club, run through my A and B schedules two times each, and meet Daisy and Sam for dinner.
I’m so exhausted afterward, I crawl into bed well before lights out.
I toss and turn, my dreams plagued by smoke and flame.
Each time I wake, my heart is pounding painfully in my chest; I can hear its panicked whoosh in my ears.
I glare meaningfully at the starless sky obscured by deep purple rain clouds, and startle when the rumble of thunder shakes the leaded windowpanes, though it dies down quickly after.
When it seems like I’ve finally fallen into a fitfully dreamless sleep, I wake to the frantic sound of banging against my door, shouts ringing out from the hall, and the dull drumming of many feet running across the deep-blue carpet.
Sitting up, I swing my legs over the side of the bed.
It’s too dark to see much of anything, so I tilt my nose and sniff for smoke as I stand, hands slapping the mattress in search of my phone.
The screams get louder, and tears prick my eyes.
It’s happening again. A fire, surely. Burning down the dorm.
If I don’t hurry, I’ll die the same vicious death as those witches.
Swiping my phone from the side of the desk, I touch my throat to make sure my necklace is still there.
I find the letter from Gigi in my sock drawer and shove that into my pocket too.
For a moment I consider bringing Lovey, but regardless of the emergency, that’s still just a little too embarrassing, even for me.
When I burst into the hall, I’m engulfed by a sea of students and pushed toward the staircase.
I crane my neck in search of Daisy, who’s too short to see in this crowd anyway, and Sam, who seems too far ahead to hear me if I call their name.
It’s not until I’m halfway down the stairs that I notice there’s no alarm blaring.
I’m the only one wearing pajamas.
And I’m the only one who seems scared.
All those screams, they were excitement, not fear.
Confused, I let the wave carry me out past the courtyard and into the quad where the students gather around the central fountain.
“Welcome—” someone bellows through a bullhorn, “to Invocation Night!”