First Institute, Fourth Floor, Admin Office.
Ewan stood shell-shocked in place with a boy and a girl, both in school uniform like him. The boy had his hands in his pocket, his eyelids drooped, and he leaned back on one foot, playing with a piece of paper on the floor. While the girl hung her head down and clutched her skirt, her tears puddling at her feet, her shoulders trembling.
“Today will be the last day. If you guys don’t clear your due fees by the evening, you won't be getting any Astylind. Do you understand?” the young female staff said, sitting in her cubicle while her monitor displayed the three students’ details.
“I understand, can I go now?” the boy asked, then strode away when he got the nod.
“Ma’am, it must be a mistake. My fee is transferred from a separate account, I have no control over it. And there’s money in it, I’ve checked recently,” Ewan said, his heart sinking.
“Clear it up from your side then. We haven’t received the fee yet,” the female staff said.
“Ma’am, my dad said he’ll pay it within a week,” the girl said, sniffing, as Ewan staggered out of the office, stumbling on the printer’s wire, and called Uncle Thain with numb and cold fingers. The face in the tinted window of the corridor was bloodless, he looked aghast. Even the cheerful and upbeat idol song for the ring couldn’t cheer him up, for he was about to lose his future, his dream.
“Hello, uncle. Can you check my account? The school fees one,” he said when the call connected.
“What happened? Did we miss something last night? Are you alright?” Uncle Thain said, and the sound of clicking keys echoed in the background with some muffled white noise.
“No, I’m not.” His voice shook. “Please check it quickly.” Ewan stood by the large window in the corridor, feeling the caress of the cold wind on his face, but it could give him no respite.
“Just a second,” he said. “…Your account’s been blocked.” And the typing sound sped up with hammering strokes.
Ewan closed his eyes and exhaled a powerless breath.
“I’m sorry, it’s my fault, I should’ve noticed this sooner,” Uncle Thain said.
“What’s the issue? Can you fix it?” Ewan asked, rubbing his forehead.
“There seems to be some kind of complaint registered against it. It shouldn’t be a problem; I can clear it up soon.”
“How long? Can you do it today?”
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“It will at least take a few days if not a week, I won't be able to speed up the process from my end,” Uncle Thain said. “What happened? Is the school giving you any trouble?”
Ewan clutched his phone and looked down the window. Students gathered in the plaza; some sat and chatted on the grass, some rushed for their class, while some jogged the morning laps. Gusts of wind blew from time to time, it took the fallen leaves on a short journey, lifting the girls’ skirts on its way. But none of it could distract him. His mind was in a jumbled mess, he looked bleak, and his eyes dimmed.
If I jump from here, everything will end, I can rest then…
The thoughts he fought off for years crept up to him once again. Only his dream of becoming an Asheva, a Severynth, had kept him going, but even that was now slipping away from his hands.
“Ewan? Hello? Ewan, are you there?” Uncle Thain yelled on the other side. “Did you hear me? Do you want me to come forward and handle everything?”
I don’t want it to end. I’m so close now.
Ewan clenched his fists and took a deep breath; the cold air chilled his chest. He was still alive; he still breathed. And till his last breath, he wanted to live with all he had. If all the doors closed for him, he would rip another path open and move ahead—in the pitch dark, a speck of hope lit up. If he played his cards right…
“No, uncle, I’ll handle it.” The height that Uncle Thain was at, a single hum from him could solve all his problems, but Ewan still wanted to do it himself. “I’ll call you back after a while.” He cut the call without waiting for a reply and went back into the office. The girl stood there with her head down, struggling to explain her situation, hoping for sympathy, the puddle of her tears larger than before, while the rest of the staff minded their own business.
“Ma’am, my account has some problem, the fee won't be transferred today. Is it possible if I delay it a bit? There used to be a late fine system, right? Can’t I get the Astylind later after I pay that?” Ewan asked, cutting the girl’s plea short.
“No, the headmaster has given strict orders this time. There will be no exceptions.”
“Please, ma’am,” he said. “This is my future we’re talking about.”
“No, sorry.” She shook her head.
“Okay then, I quit. Can you give me the withdrawal receipt?” The school lost all authority over him when they made this decision, and so, his voice regained its dominance, and his tensed shoulders loosened—a weight was off him. Both his mind and body lightened.
“What?” The female staff gaped at him, and the girl and the staff members around also stared; his drastic decision finally got their attention.
“What’s the problem?” A tall man in a brown checkered suit and frameless spectacles walked up to them with a steaming cup of cocoa—an overly sweet cup of cocoa, no doubt. He was Ewan’s teacher, Mr. Baryt, the famous sweet tooth. He taught them basic biology, Starons’ and Astylinds’ anatomy, and their different mutations.
“There’s no problem, sir. Ma’am, can you hurry up please? I have a shop to look after.” Ewan said.
“Are you sure?” the female staff asked.
“Ewan, don’t be stupid. With your grades, you can easily get a good job even if you don’t get an Astylind. Don’t make rash decisions on an impulse,” Mr. Baryt said.
“I’m not, sir, thank you.” Ewan smiled at him then urged the female staff once more. The other staff members shook their heads; even Mr. Baryt stopped persuading him and went away with a sigh, sipping his sweet cocoa.
A few minutes later, the female staff printed out the receipt and handed it over to him after he signed a withdrawal form—he had now quit the school, it was official. He gave the receipt one look, and after confirming everything was in order, he swaggered away, skipping over the wire he tripped on before.