46 Students Remaining #2
Ashlyn nods and pulls out her own tablet. She taps the screen a few times, as though looking for something, then says, “Okay, I see what happened…according to Tomo, you used too much speed when jumping from one platform to the other and ran off the other side—”
I try to interrupt. “I didn’t—”
But Ashlyn lifts a hand to stop me. “Tomo then added a note saying you twisted your ankle, and that he immediately sent you to the school nurse, who gave you an ice pack and sent you to your following class when you told her your ankle didn’t hurt anymore.
” Ashlyn’s eyes flick up. “Is your ankle bothering you now?”
“Well, no.”
Ashlyn places her tablet on her lap and folds her hands on top of it. “Lia, I should let you know that, according to your intake forms, you have a history of pushing boundaries and questioning authority.”
I feel a sinking in my gut. “It says that?”
“We want you to do well here,” Ashlyn says.
“But as Wyatt explained during orientation, only five students will graduate from Luminary to receive admission and a scholarship to their dream school. If you want to be one of them, you have to work your curriculum. Tomo never would’ve let you attempt the gauntlet if you weren’t physically capable of completing it, and he certainly wouldn’t tell us you jumped if you fell.
It sounds to me like you don’t want to admit you could’ve made a mistake.
But we all make mistakes. They’re part of the learning process.
The only way we can move forward is by admitting them and moving on. ”
I open my mouth, but I don’t know what to say. I know I fell. Ashlyn wasn’t in Physics; she didn’t see the gauntlet.
But I want to be one of the final five. I want to graduate.
Think of Blackwood, I tell myself. My ankle doesn’t even hurt anymore. Is it really that big of a deal?
Ashlyn stares at me expectantly.
“I guess I could’ve…jumped,” I say eventually.
“Great,” Ashlyn says, smiling wide. “I’m glad we’re all on the same page. Now, let’s talk about your first day. We’re going to reach the end of your first module before you know it!”
I’m allowed to use the phone to call home after the guidance meeting, but it’s only been twenty-four hours, so I head to the cafeteria instead.
“I can’t believe we already have homework,” Seven’s muttering when I drop into our regular table for dinner. “On the first day.”
“You have homework?” I ask.
“In History and Politics,” they explain. “Have you had it yet?”
I shake my head, stomach turning. Am I going to have a history class? It’s not on my schedule. But this is just the first module. Maybe my schedule changes every few weeks?
“My classes were all really intense,” Mando adds. “They were a lot more physical than I was expecting them to be.”
Scarlett blushes deeply when Mando says the word physical, but doesn’t look up from the disturbingly realistic castle she’s forming out of the mashed potatoes on her tray.
Scarlett’s food sculptures were something of legend back at our old school.
My favorite was this little log cabin she’d once made out of French toast sticks and sausage.
She’d even gotten the cafeteria ladies to heat up her tiny pot of syrup, so the cabin’s chimney looked like it was smoking.
“Lia almost broke her leg in Physics,” Scar says.
Zo gawks at me. “You did?”
“Key word being almost,” I say. Turning back to Scar, I add, “You going to do the moat this time?”
“Obviously,” Scarlett says, nodding at a bowl filled with gravy on her tray.
“Mmm, gravy moat.” Mando plucks a French fry off his own tray and swipes it through her gravy. She swats his hand away, giggling.
“Don’t eat the construction materials, please!”
Seven says, “Are any of you nervous? If this is what they have us doing our first day, I can’t even imagine what the rest of the year’s going to be like.” Their shoulders slump. “I’ll never make it to the final five.”
“Of course you will,” Scar snaps, looking up from her castle. “All five of us are going to make it, remember?”
I smile weakly. I love Scar’s optimism, but I’m starting to think that’s not possible. And from the way the others all glance at one another, I can see that they agree.
Luckily, we’re saved from having to answer by a ping! from our tablets.
“New class schedules are up.” Seven pulls their tablet out of their bag and slides it onto the table.
“We get different schedules every day?” I ask.
“Every other day,” Seven says. But they’re staring at their tablet now, distracted. Scarlett’s studying her tablet, too, her nose wrinkling.
I swallow and turn toward my tablet, where a brand-new schedule has appeared.
B Schedule (Tuesday, Thursday)
8:00 a.m.–9:00 a.m.: History and Politics—West Townhouse, Room 244
9:05 a.m.–10:25 a.m.: Advanced Chemistry—East Townhouse, Room 500
10:30 a.m.–11:30 a.m.: Advanced Economics—Barn 1
11:35 a.m.–12:15 p.m.: Lunch
12:20 p.m.–1:40 p.m.: Environmental Science—Greenhouse 3
1:45 p.m.–2:45 p.m.: Advanced Research Seminar—Barn 3
2:50 p.m.–3:30 p.m.: Spanish I—West Townhouse, Room 311
I wrinkle my nose at the two additional science classes, but everything else looks okay. I go to turn off the screen, but I hit something wrong, and the class list I was studying last night appears instead.
I feel a sinking in my stomach as I gaze down at it. Now Protector and Strategist only have eight students, and Innovator only has nine.
Five more students have been sent home. Since this morning.
I can’t help wondering what they did wrong. We haven’t been graded on anything yet…Did they ask too many questions? Did they leave voluntarily? Or are the teachers monitoring us for something else, some quality they haven’t even told us about?
I quickly close the class list and tuck my tablet away. I knew this was going to happen. But still. Students are dropping even faster than I expected.
Fog rolls in the next morning. There’s a crispness to the air. Sweater weather. I shiver and pull my sleeves over my hands as I head to class.
“Hey! Lia!” someone calls. I turn to look over my shoulder and see Rani jogging to catch up with me. “Want some company?”
“Where did you come from?” I ask. I hadn’t noticed him on the path from Innovator.
He has to struggle to catch his breath as he points behind him and says, “I was just a little way behind you. Not far, really. And…sort of, uh, across the square.”
I bite back a smile. So he ran across the campus to get to me. Cute. “Well, I’m glad you caught up.”
We walk in silence for a few minutes. The air is very bright and very clear, and the trees have all exploded with red and yellow and orange. Autumn as depicted in greeting cards from the ’90s. Autumn as seen in old Halloween movies. Couldn’t be more perfect.
“I keep waiting to get used to this place,” Rani says, breaking the silence. “All the luxury, our own rooms, beds that don’t feel like cardboard.” He glances at me. “But every time I wake up, it’s like, how the hell did I get here?”
“I know what you mean. I took a half-hour shower this morning,” I admit. “I just turn the water on and let it run until it goes cold.”
Rani closes his eyes and groans in pleasure. “Is there anything better than taking as long as you want in the shower?”
“Hot breakfast every morning?”
Rani’s shakes his head. “Nah, it’s gotta be the beds. First time in my life I can sleep without my feet hanging off the edges.”
I nod, but my smile fades a little as I think about the notch marks in the back of my closet. They’ve gotten to me. I keep finding myself ruminating on them in odd moments, wondering what the person who carved them was thinking.
Out loud, I say, “I think I’m waiting for something weird to happen. Some sort of a catch, you know?”
Rani frowns at me. “Like what kind of a catch?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. It’s just…no place can be this perfect.”
Rani stops walking when we reach a fork, and jerks his head down the path. “I’m this way.”
“Then this is where we say goodbye,” I tell him.
Rani hesitates a moment. Then he reaches out and brushes his thumb over my hand. His touch is light, but it still makes my pulse stutter. “For what it’s worth, I think you need to accept that this place might just be a really good thing,” he says. “No catch.”
I nod, warmth creeping up my neck. There’s something so comforting about Rani. He reminds me of a favorite shirt or a home-cooked meal. Everything about him is familiar without being boring. For a moment, I consider how nice it might feel to bury my face in his shirt and just breathe him in.
“I’ve never known how to accept good things,” I tell him.
He smiles and squeezes my hand. “Let me know if you ever need help with that.”
None of the others are in History and Politics first period, so I make my way to the West Townhouse alone.
It’s located in the central square, situated around a man-made pond.
Ducks float over the still waters, shivering and fluttering their wings.
A few clumps of students have gathered around the fountain on their way to their own classes, talking and laughing.
I smile to myself, reveling in how beautiful this place is, how different it is from any other school I’ve been to.
Maybe Rani’s right. Maybe I just have to accept that this is a good thing that happened to me. No catch.
A shadow falls over me as I make my way up the steps to my first class. I know it’s Ian without turning. Even his shadow looks smug.
“Is there a reason you’re hovering?” I ask. “Is it a new hobby?”
Ian snorts and walks past me. “Actually, it’s community service: Shadow a delinquent, make sure she doesn’t accidentally set a building on fire,” he says, which is mean enough on its own and somehow worse because of the meticulous way he’s combed and parted his hair.