Chapter Fifteen
FIFTEEN
CHEERS RING OUT FROM THE students around me, and a group of shirtless guys with blue paint slathered all over their chests pop streamer cans that shoot out from the fountain’s edge in streaks of gold and white.
Somehow everyone else seems to have gotten the memo about tonight, and they mingle with their friends, neon glow sticks wrapped around their wrists and hanging from their necks.
I push through the crowd in search of a familiar face.
Thankfully it’s not long before I hear the muffled sound of my name. “Harper?”
Daisy is standing on a bench with her arms up and waving around wildly, Sam grinning beside her.
I squeeze past a group of what looks like freshman girls, their knees bent and heads smushed together for a picture.
“Hey!” I say as I finally stand by their sides. “What the hell is going on?”
Daisy opens her mouth to respond when gentle fingers tickle the back of my neck. “Nice jammies,” someone murmurs from behind me.
I turn and find Lucas eyeing me playfully, his mouth quirked to the side.
Heat spreads across my chest as I look down at myself. I’m wearing an oversized Halloween Horror Nights T-shirt I’ve DIYed into a V-neck and plaid sleep shorts stained with a rainbow of old paint. “Uh, thanks.” I cringe, crossing my arms over my chest.
He frowns. “Hey, I was being serious,” he says. “It’s cute that you didn’t get all dressed up like everyone else. I don’t see the point—we can barely see each other in the dark anyway.”
“I had no idea what was happening,” I admit. “I thought there was a fire or something.”
Daisy grabs my hand. “Don’t worry about it,” she laughs.
“You’re not the only one!” She points out a few students who look just as lost and disheveled as I feel.
“It’s a tradition, kinda like school-sanctioned hazing, I guess.
It’s something we do every year, a remnant of when the school was first founded—you’ll see. ”
“These days it’s basically just a party in the quad,” Sam adds. “But there’s an unspoken agreement to not tell the new kids.”
I cough out a laugh, but it’s forced. How do I explain to people I just met that my nights are already plagued by the chaos of my own mind, and this certainly didn’t help?
“Hey! Come on!” Sam calls from where they’ve begun to wander up ahead. “It’s starting!”
Daisy pulls me along, with Lucas trailing behind us.
He turns and nods at nearly everyone we pass, combating their curious looks with a smile they eagerly return.
It makes sense that Lucas is popular here, not just because his father is the headmaster, but because he’s always had this effect on people.
A way of seeing right into your very core and making you feel special.
I’m enjoying watching him, but the lingering smile falls from my lips when I see someone glowering at us from the corner of my eye.
“Whoa,” Lucas says, putting his hand up. “Fix your face, man.”
“Fuck off,” Malachi growls, edging a little closer to me as we come to a stop near the fountain, which is now lit by portable stage lights, a crackling whine vibrating from two small speakers being hooked up to a microphone.
“You’ve turned into a real dick, you know that?” I say, my voice flat as I turn to Malachi, unsure of what else to do besides state the obvious.
He towers over me, and I have to tilt my head back just to look at him.
Grunting, he gives a noncommittal shrug before turning and facing the short, alabaster woman who reaches her arm up to angle the microphone down.
Her marbled gray pantsuit is pressed, and her mousy brown hair is pulled back into a tight, low bun.
This close to Kai, I notice that something else about him has changed, too.
Where Lucas has a nostalgic scent, one that instantly brings me comfort, Malachi smells unfamiliar. Dangerous. Like the first cool rain in autumn, and something sharp and spicy-sweet like cloves and cinnamon.
I close my eyes briefly and try to conjure the memory of what he smelled like before, but it’s no use.
“What are you doing?” Malachi asks, annoyance coloring his tone.
My eyes snap open. “Really,” I say. “This is how we’re going to do this? The school year hasn’t even technically started yet, and you’re seriously going to make every interaction so miserable?”
Lucas coughs, and Daisy retreats a few steps.
Malachi leans his head down and speaks quietly enough that only I can hear him. “I don’t owe you anything, Harper.”
Bristling, I jerk my head back. “You know what? You’re right. You don’t owe me anything. Just keep pretending I don’t exist and go about your life. That’s what you’ve been doing for the last year anyway. I don’t see why it has to change now.”
His lips pull into a grim line as I move to Lucas’s other side, putting some much-needed distance between us.
“Welcome, students,” the woman begins, and the crowd starts to settle, “to the night that will change your lives. Welcome to Invocation.”
I rock back onto my heels, catching the inside of my cheek between my teeth.
“As many of you know, my name is Sandra Laughlin, and I’m the head counselor.
I’m pleased to lead us tonight, on the first full moon of the fall semester, as we gather to set our intentions for the coming year.
This is a hallowed tradition where we acknowledge the over one hundred years of students who have stood in this very spot.
To do this very thing. We are not alone here, for there is a vast and colorful history that precedes us, and it’s imperative that we pay tribute to those who have paved the way. ”
In the distance there’s a chorus of what sounds like coyote yips, followed by a singular, wailing howl.
Sandra nods like the mountain dogs are emphasizing her point.
“As always, I know we’re all eager to continue catching up with old friends and participating in some of the fun activities we have set up tonight, however, I’d like to implore you to take advantage of this tradition.
In the chapel there are candles for you to light if you would like to join the Midnight March through campus. ”
Murmurs pass between the students around us, and Ms. Laughlin’s voice crackles from the speakers again, only this time, her tone is much more somber.
“Black Mountain Academy is a pillar of this community, of the mountains. We are leaders, not only in education, but in the changing landscape of our world. You all will go on to make great sacrifices, just like the students before you. Legacies are made here, so make the most of it. Tonight is about focusing on the semesters ahead. Take it all in. What would you like to leave behind? What will be your mark on the world?”
I’m unsettled by her words. Great sacrifices… It’s hard to imagine what that could even mean, and yet my mouth goes dry at the warning in her voice.
“But let’s remember,” she continues, “that tonight is also about community. It is about connecting with your classmates, your partners in leading this global change. But sadly, we are still processing the tragic disappearance of one of our most beloved students and community members, Fiona Beaumont.” I freeze.
In the distance cicadas sing their condolences, a sorrowful song that overwhelms the silence of the crowd.
“We still don’t have answers regarding her disappearance. But I can assure you that our faculty has had extensive training this summer, and we’ve increased security tremendously.”
“Yeah, right,” Sam mutters. I turn to them, eyes wide.
They lower their head toward me slightly and talk out the side of their mouth.
“Far as I can tell, nothing has changed. And they didn’t give a shit when she took off.
I saw cops on campus for, what, maybe a day?
And they didn’t question anyone either. I don’t know what really happened with that, but… ”
“That’s weird,” I murmur, thinking about what Missy said in the cafeteria versus all the articles I found online. Everyone but her seems to think Fiona ran away. I glance up at Lucas. His expression is uncharacteristically grave, and I wonder if he knew the girl.
As Ms. Laughlin continues her spiel, two single-file rows of students dressed in robes of all white emerge from the dark on either side of her. The crowd is silent as we watch them line up along the edges of the fountain, a few clearing their throats in preparation.
Headmaster Matsoukas slinks in from the shadows. “Please welcome the Black Mountain Academy Choir, here to perform a BMA classic as we remember Fiona and hope for her safe return.”
A melody, soft and haunting, drifts through the air.
The tune is familiar, though I can’t immediately remember why. There are no lyrics in this song, just lilting tones undulating in a discordant, uncomfortable way.
And then, layering on top of them, the shouting begins.
“NO JUSTICE! NO PEACE! NO JUSTICE! NO PEACE!” I lift onto my tiptoes in search of the disturbance.
Missy and a handful of cheerleaders have swapped their uniforms for black tracksuits with reflective stripes down the sides that glow despite the minimal lighting.
They push past the choir and walk through the water of the fountain until they’re lit up, and the headmaster’s face is beet red as he sputters into the mic.
“What is going on here?” he nearly shouts, his hand running anxiously down his shirt.
Quietly, Ms. Laughlin whispers something in his ear and steps back, but not before his eyes cut in our direction.
At first my heart jumps into my throat when I think he’s staring straight at me, but I quickly realize that he’s not.
Instead, his eyes are fixed on Malachi. Confused, I angle myself to try to get a better look at the expression on his face, but Lucas leans forward to whisper something to the guy in front of us and blocks my view.
When he returns to his spot, Malachi is gone.
I twist my neck, scanning the top of the crowd, but I don’t find him.
For some reason, my palms start to sweat.