Novels2Search
Fire and Ice (Completed)
Chapter 49 - Killdrain First Day

Chapter 49 - Killdrain First Day

Natalia’s P. O. V

I inspected myself in the mirror.

‘You should try a high ponytail.’ Candy insisted.

I held my hair up, cocking my head at the look, ‘Really?’

‘Yeah, it looks preppy and focused. Plus, you can wear one of the pairs of heels Hailey made you get.’

I gave a short laugh, ‘I’ll go for the ponytail, but I’m sticking with the flats.’

‘Sure, they’re cute,’ she groaned, ‘but the heels could really take everything to another level.’

I rolled my eyes, ‘You already got me into this skirt, I’m not gonna run to campus in heels, Candy.’

I’d have been content wearing jeans and a simple shirt, but she’d coerced me into a fitted burgundy miniskirt and a black, sleeveless, halter neck shirt with matching tights and the spelled jacket. To fit the look, I’d chosen some black ballerina flats, but she somehow still wasn’t satisfied.

As I suppressed another twinge of nerves, I couldn’t blame her.

Today was the day.

The resumption dates for both Killdrain and the School for Syrens had coincided. Two weeks ago, after some deliberation, I’d changed my major to Political Science, with a minor in Economics, and registered all my classes for the morning. Apparently, most people preferred to start their days after noon, but I needed to get to the Syren school by half past twelve for the Supernatural classes.

Hailey had tried her best to convince me to move some classes to the afternoon, so we could attend the one class we shared together.

“Please, Ari! We could go back to my room after classes and hang out, or go out to ear or something.”

“Sorry, Hailey.” I smiled apologetically, “I want all my classes done by morning so I don’t need to think about them for the rest of the day.”

“But, it’s just one day! Digital Marketing and Mass Communications and Political Science and Economics are in no way connected, so the one Communication class we have may be the only bridge we’ll get, most likely till we graduate.”

“Most of your classes start by the time I’m finishing up, so we can cross paths.”

She huffed, blowing on a stray strand of blonde hair, “I guess…”

The truth was, I would’ve loved to share a class with her. But I couldn’t explain to her why I couldn’t. Not yet.

I grabbed my book bag and left my room to get something to eat. Once downstairs, I met Timothy in the kitchen.

“Good morning.”

“Morning.” He grumbled, shovelling more eggs into his mouth.

I retrieved the things for a bowl of cereal, “Still not a morning person?”

He scoffed, “I blame your damn bed, it’s too comfortable. Makes getting up a fucking death sentence. I can’t wait to move out.”

“You know there’s no rush, you can take your time to get on your feet.”

He grunted, focusing on his food.

He’d finally gotten hired on a construction site a few weeks back. As soon as he’d gotten the job, he started packing his bag, ready to move out. It’d taken the three of us doing some serious convincing to get him to stay, at least till he’d saved up enough for a six month’s rent in a simple apartment. We knew he hated staying here and feeling like he was taking charity, but it was only smart.

He finished his meal first and left. His work took him out an hour before my classes and let him off three hours after the Syren school let out.

I spent the next half hour saying no to Candy about anything that would result in a change of clothes. Finally, it was a suitable time for me to leave and I walked out, locking the door behind me.

It took me a few minutes to get to Killdrain. Walking onto campus, I was reminded of the weight of the atmosphere as the early autumn sun was blocked off. There weren’t as many people as I expected, but it was the first period of the day and I was twenty minutes early.

I was supposed to find the Humanities section in the gothic castle. Looking around, I regretted not taking the Geranomy brothers up on their offer of a tour before summer.

Speak of the devil, a familiar scent had me turning.

“Ari? What’re you doing here? You’re not supposed to start till January.” Greg asked, walking up to me.

“I wanted to surprise you guys, but I think I should’ve let you show me around that day instead.”

He lifted a brow, “Can’t find your class?”

I shook my head.

He laughed, “Come on, I’ll show you. What’s the hall number?”

Relieved, I followed him, “Humanities four - thirteen.”

He checked his watch, “That’s all the way across the building from my class, but we’ve got time. Let’s go.”

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He led me into the building, taking me through a maze of twists and turns to an elevator.

“What’re you doing here so early, anyway?” I asked as we stepped out onto the fourth floor.

“My Machinery teacher and I have something we’ve been working on since my first year. I like to come in early sometimes to help him tinker with it.”

We took another turn.

“Lucky for me, I guess. What’s the thing you’re working on?”

He grinned, a twinkle in his eye, “It’s a secret.”

“Alright, Tinkerbell.”

He thrust his nose into the air, “I’ll have you know that Tinkerbell was a genius ahead of her times. I knew I shouldn’t have let Hailey get a hold of you.”

I laughed.

Hailey had taken it upon herself to ‘give me a childhood’ during every free moment over the summer. That included watching as many Disney, Pixar and Dreamworks movies as possible, along with other classics from smaller studios.

“Well, here you are.” Greg announced as we came to a door labelled ‘H 4-13’. “I should get going if I’m gonna be able to help Professor Range, even if it’s just for a few minutes. Have a good day, and good luck on finding your way to your classes.”

I waved him off, “With the look of this school, I’ll definitely need it. Thanks for your help.”

With Greg gone, I was left standing alone before the glossy doors of the auditorium. It had taken us little under fifteen minutes to get here, so there were a few more people on their way to their classes.

I exhaled, then placed a hand on the door handle, psyching myself up.

Today, was gonna have two new beginnings for me. I just hoped the day started off well.

I entered the auditorium, taking a quick glance around. The seats were structured in a concave form, the height of the seat rising as you climbed the steps to the back. At the front of the room was a large electronic board, some speakers and a desk. There were a few people already present. Some were discussing in groups while others were scattered in isolation.

I climbed up to the fifth row, not too close to the front, but still close enough for the people who would sit around me not to be the talkative type.

As minutes passed, people trickled into the room, till the auditorium was over half full. Eight o’clock was accompanied by a melodic chime and a woman I assumed was our lecturer walked in. Her demeanour reminded me of the woman I’d met in the admissions office, on the day I’d visited with the Geranomy brothers. Everything about her seemed intentional, from the crisp iron lines on her bouse and the precise high braid of her long brown hair, to the spotlessness of her pumps and the way her glasses perched right on the bridge of her perfect nose.

The moment she walked in, a hush fell over the room. Without a word, she retrieved a tablet and stylus from her handbag and connected them to the display board. On it, she wrote her name, email and the class.

“Good morning, class. My name is Irina Sargsyan and I’ll be your teacher for Introduction to Political Theory till the end of this semester. Since I sent the syllabus to everyone, you should already have my email address. You may use it to contact me concerning important matters during the semester.”

With her statement, she gave us all a pointed look.

“Today,” she continued, “we’ll start with the meaning of politics and its significance.” Accompanied by a meticulous presentation, she launched into the lecture.

Before I knew it, Ms. Sargsyan was wrapping up. The melodious bell chimed and the room was filled with shuffling as we left for our next classes. Once out in the hallway, I glanced at my phone for the location of my next class.

I found my way back to the elevator, slipping between the doors just as they were about to close. Once on the sixth floor, I stepped out with a couple other people and looked around for a room labelled ‘6-23’.

My frustration rose after too many turned corners with no room ‘6-23’ to show for it, and I had only a minute left till the next period started. Finally throwing the towel in, I looked around for someone to approach for directions.

The closest person to me was a girl, with glossy dark brown hair and unblemished skin hued with a tone that bordered between beige and gold. Throughout the day, I’d noticed three distinct types of dressing in most students. There were those that didn’t care and had obviously thrown the first set of clothes they found on, those that looked nice, but hadn’t put too much effort in, and finally, those that looked like they’d meticulously crafted their outfits for the day.

She looked like she fell in the last category.

“Excuse me,” I called, fully expecting the fabulous looking girl to brush me off, “could you tell me where room six – twenty-three is?”

The soft waves of her hair seemed to defy gravity as she turned to me. Looking at her face, she had distinct East Asian features and a keen look in her eyes, “Sure. That’s where my next class is, follow me.”

I thanked her as we speed walked to the class, ducking through the doors just as the bell chimed.

After that class, I resigned myself to just asking for directions, as opposed to attempting to find my way by myself. The morning passed, a mix of admittedly engaging lectures all over the labyrinth of a school. As my last class ended, I packed my things back in my bag to leave.

“Hey.”

I looked up, finding the girl from earlier, “Hi. Thanks again for helping me out.”

She smiled, pearly white teeth framed by the perfect pink of her lip gloss, “No problem. I saw you in the first lecture as well, we seem to have some classes together. Political Science major?”

I nodded, “Yeah, with an Economics minor. What about you?”

“Same, but my minor’s Business instead. I’m Annya, what’s your name?”

“Avarielle, but most people call me Ava or Ari.”

She smiled again, the warmth reaching her dark eyes, “It’s nice to meet you, Ava. It might sound creepy, but I noticed you taking notes during all the classes we shared. I’ve got this idea to make a study group, and you seem like you’d be a good fit.”

I glanced at the clock on the wall behind her. I had five minutes till I absolutely needed to leave, “I’m not sure I’ll have time to meet up often for a study group. I wouldn’t want to join then never show up.”

“That’s fine. I’m asking all the serious people I can find and I know not everyone will have free enough schedules. I just want to add everyone to a google folder or something, so we can pitch in our notes from classes and stuff. Actually meeting in person is optional.”

“That’s a good idea, I should be able to do that.”

“Great!” She retrieved a paper, half filled with a list of names, numbers and email addresses, “Just write yours here, then I’ll add you to the group and text you.”

I wrote down my info and handed her the list, “Thanks for the invitation.”

“Thank you for accepting. See you later.”

“Bye.” I picked my bag up and left, as she moved on to another classmate.

I ran at a normal pace till I was off campus and out of sight. Once I could, I booked it to the Syren School. Three minutes till the first afternoon class was to begin, and I was jogging through the gate. I had to stop myself from gawking at the splendour of the buildings and made my way to the first of the connected looming towers.

There was barely anyone around to ask for directions if I got lost and I was grateful for the tour Mrs Burton had given me last week, when I’d chosen my electives and picked up my timetable. I rushed up the spiral escalator to the fourth floor and crossed the bridge connecting to another tower.

“Shit!” I hissed as the bell rang and ran the rest of the way to my class. Once there, I knocked on the door before entering the room.

I walked in, my neck heating at the feeling of everyone’s gaze turn to me.

The teacher, a stunning woman with black hair that faded into a light blue, raised a brow, “Nice of you to join us.”