Second Thoughts (4 page)

“Is that…?” I asked, though who else would it be? Even from here, I could recognize the rise and fall of his strong shoulders, the caramel hair, lit by the pale sunshine and curling at the ends where it was damp. He looked beautiful, unreal.

“Every morning. I admire Cartwright's dedication, another trait he shares with the senator.”

“You know, I wondered why you scheduled our meeting so early.”

A gleam in her eye told me I amused her more than I irritated her. By way of answer, she said, “The school is blanketed in potential before it fully wakes, while one of its brightest students haunts the grounds.” She was quiet for a second and I realized that she didn't
hate Carter like he thought she did, not at all. She wanted more from him. Maybe everyone did. “Speaking of dedication,” she added, “I think you'll find the senator is as devoted to his ‘nephew' as he is to the Perceptum.”

We said our goodbyes, the headmaster and I, but there was one thing I couldn't say to her, a secret she didn't share. Though I wanted to be part of the Honor Board, I was sure that all the practice with it could never erase my fear of the Perceptum. More than what they wanted me to do, the reason I hated them was this: they held Carter's life in their hands.

Only a few people—fewer than knew I was the last Marwood—knew that, like me, Carter was dual-gifted. Outwardly, he was just another Penrose, a
Lumen
with a brainiac gift, blessed with a perfectly photographic memory. Underneath, however, he was a telekinetic Thought Mover of unheard of power.

Unlike other Sententia, Carter's gift was
not
limited by proximity. He could move anything he'd seen once before, no matter where it was. And
that
kind of gift was exactly what the Perceptum would see as too powerful to be allowed to exist, regardless of how Carter used it or didn't. His family and Senator Astor's devotion to keeping his secret were all that stood between Carter and an almost certain death penalty.

So yeah, to say that I feared the Perceptum was a bit of an understatement. I loathed them, just on principal, and promised myself I would never have any connection to them.

Until I discovered I already did.

T
his is so exciting,” Amy called from where she leaned over our bathroom sink applying mascara. “Almost like getting ready for the Winter Ball, only more sophisticated.”

I laughed. “I guess so.” October had arrived like a blink, and with it, Aunt Tessa's art unveiling. Despite that she'd spent months planning, creating, and installing it, I still didn't know what it was. She'd forbidden me from seeing it, and though I could have peeked in the weeks since she finished her work, I knew that would disappoint her. So I kept my word and stayed out of the Auditorium and its lobby until the big day. Today.

I slipped on my sleek black heels and inspected myself in the full-length mirror on the back of our door. In the reflection, I caught Amy looking at me from the bathroom doorway, a funny smile on her face.
I smoothed my hands over my slim black satin pants. “What? Don't you like my outfit?”

Her smile widened. “No, I love your outfit. Those pants are outrageous. In a good way.”

“Thanks…But so what's with the look?”

“It's just this is like the first time ever where you're the confident one, taking me to something in
your
element. An art opening seems so…exotic to me, but it's as comfortable to you as, I don't know, going out to dinner or something.”

I'd not thought of it that way, but she was right. Usually things that were completely normal to everyone else were new to
me.
It was a nice change, and I was happy to finally introduce Amy to something that had been part of my life for as long as I could remember. Not that I wasn't nervous in my own way, but it wasn't about the event itself.

Amy looked fantastic. She usually did, but tonight she looked…grown up. Her skirt and jacket were a deep red, a beautiful, mature color, not garish or too sexy, and fit her to perfection. She'd smoothed her curls into a low pony-tail and dabbed a muted red lipstick on her full lips. I could have confused her for an executive—or an art dealer—if I hadn't known her so well.

But of course, Amy was still Amy. She giggled as she slipped her arm through mine and dragged me out the door. “C'mon Heartbreaker. Let's go, so you can teach me about art and we can try to sneak some champagne before everyone gets there.”

W
E PICKED OUR
way across campus in the cool early evening. It was usually the quietest time to be found on a Friday, but tonight there was an energy hovering over the grounds, as parents and alumni arrived, and people bustled about preparing for the night's events. The air was crisp but not cold and the sky was a rainbow of sunset colors over the still green, rolling lawns of the Academy.

My early nervousness began to change into a more familiar, and enjoyable, feeling. Though I'd been to my aunt's unveilings many times before, I'd never once failed to be proud of or excited for her. As we approached the Auditorium, I let the anticipation settle in on me like an old, welcome friend.

People were already gathering outside, where there was a small group of performers from the student orchestra to entertain them and several waiters mingled amongst the crowd with cocktails and light hors d'oeuvres. The front doors were locked and darkened, adding to the atmosphere of drama and suspense. I smiled to myself as we slipped around the side of the building to the rear door. My aunt was a real pro at this kind of thing. She'd promised me a private showing before the doors opened and she became the center of attention.

“Auntie?” I called as I pushed open the back door. It creaked as it swung and opened into a dim, deserted hallway. Honestly, it would have been a little creepy if not for the five huge trays of full champagne flutes sparkling in a row against the wall. Score. I looked sideways at Amy, who winked at me, and we swiped a glass each before making our way through the stage doors at the end of the hall.

We stepped through from backstage into the auditorium itself but it, too, appeared empty, the lights glowing just enough for us to see our way down the aisles. We were headed toward the lobby proper to search for my aunt when her voice called to me from seemingly everywhere at once.

“Elaine Rachel Young! Don't go any further!” I jumped at the booming sound and spun in a circle, searching for her. “Up here, silly!” Aunt Tessa's voice echoed again, followed by a ghostly laugh. Amy laughed too and pointed up. There, at the back of the balcony, was my beautiful, bohemian aunt waving at us from behind the previously darkened windows of the lighting control room.

I warmed just at the sight of her. Tonight her small, curvy frame was showcased by the swirling print of her skirt, a simple black strapless top, and layers of entirely different but somehow perfectly coordinated necklaces that glimmered in the dim lighting. Her dark, wavy hair fell over one shoulder as she swept down the stairs to where we were standing.

“You look so beautiful!” I gushed, taking a moment to admire her before hugging her tightly. “And I can't wait to finally see what you've done for the Academy.”

“Thank you, sweetie,” she said before releasing me to hug my roommate too. “Good to see you Amy. Let me show you before the rest of the guests get tired of waiting.” She eyed our glasses of champagne, warning, “And you finish those before the reception starts,” before leading us out of the auditorium.

We followed her through the doors and into the dark hallway that led to the lobby. In fact, when the door swung shut behind us, it wasn't just dark but pitch black. I nearly stumbled over my aunt before she grabbed my hand and said, “Just walk slowly. I promise it will be worth it.” Amy gripped the back of my shirt as we inched through the darkness.

When we reached what seemed like the end of the hall—even the lobby was pitch black—Aunt Tessa said, “Okay, now!” into a small walkie-talkie I hadn't even noticed she was holding. The lights blazed to life overhead.

When my eyes finally adjusted, I was no less dazzled. What had previously been a boring architectural ceiling of acoustic sound panels had been transformed into a myriad flock of hanging origami birds in an array of materials—mixed metals, plaster, wood, lacquered paper. There were at least fifty of them, all different shapes and sizes, hanging at varied lengths and in different angles of flight or rest. They weren't just the basic, familiar crane shapes either; there were swans and peacocks
, swallows and herons, eagles and owls, along with a number of other birds I couldn't name on sight.

The birds would have been impressive on their own, but this was an installation, not just a sculpture exhibit. Before long, the tiny, artfully placed spotlights began to rotate and move, casting shadows across the white ceiling, and giving the entire room the impression of birds in flight. It was nothing short of magical.

I gasped in awe and gripped my aunt's hand, which I'd never relinquished, even tighter. Next to me, Amy breathed out an impressive curse.

“Oh Auntie.” I pulled her into another crushing hug. “It's…amazing. I don't even know what else to say.”

“It really is, Ms. Espinosa,” Amy said. There was wonder in her voice, and I saw her wipe at her eyes as we continued to stare at the ever-changing ceiling.

“Thank you, girls,” Aunt Tessa said. “I'm so glad you like it. I hope everyone else does too. And now, it's about time to show it to them.”

T
HE BIG UNVEILING
was even more impressive than our private showing. I wasn't sure how it would work, trying to usher everyone into a dark room to preserve the mystery, but Aunt Tessa still had more tricks in store for us. She left me with a wink and a wave to go greet the guests as they entered. Amy went out to the grounds to find her parents and Caleb while I waited patiently, in the dark, by the side wall.

I wished Carter, Melinda, and Jeff were able to be here for this part, but they wouldn't arrive until later, after they'd closed the bookstore for the night. As much as they wanted to come, the unveiling was also the beginning of Homecoming, one of the busiest weekends of the year at the store. This meant actual paying
customers—alumni and families—lots of them, not just the current students they generously entertained in the lounge on a daily basis.

As I watched in fascination, people filtered slowly into the Auditorium's lobby, each carrying a faintly luminescent glow-stick, giving off just enough light to guide them but not enough to ruin the surprise. When everyone was assembled, the room appeared to be full of anxious fireflies, flitting amongst each other, their quiet, curious whispers filling the room with buzz and excitement. The door opened and closed one final time and moments later a spotlight illuminated my lovely aunt. The crowd fell completely silent.

“Good evening, and welcome,” she said in her practiced, resonant voice. “I'd like to thank you all again for joining us and especially for being an important part of what has made Northbrook Academy an historic and elite institution, one I am proud that my niece attends. It is my great honor to donate this permanent installation to the Academy, and my wish that it will be enjoyed and enhanced for many years to come. Without further delay, I present you with Future Flight. Enjoy!”

Like before, the overhead lights came on in a flash, this time accompanied by a track of ambient music intermixed with subtle bird calls and songs. The crowd gave a polite and appreciative round of applause while they all admired the ceiling's flock. Just at the right moment, as voices began to grow and people started to mingle, the music swelled and the miniature spotlights went into action. The room again plunged into silence, except for a few surprised gasps and exclamations, before it erupted into a nearly thunderous ovation. Aunt Tessa was bombarded by congratulations, while Headmaster Stewart, stationed by her side, smiled broadly and genuinely.

I spotted Amy in the crowd and went to join her, swiping another glass of champagne on my way. I carried it discreetly at my side and
hoped that my aunt—or the headmaster—wouldn't notice. Amy and Caleb were both grinning at me by the time I reached them.

“That was freaking
incredible,”
Caleb said. Amy nodded in agreement before grabbing my champagne and taking a big swallow. “Amy told me it would be great, but wow, yeah. I had no idea. And I wondered why the ceiling in here had been draped in black cloth since the beginning of the semester. So this is really what your aunt does all the time?”

I could feel the proud smile pushing at the limits of my cheeks before I snuck my own sip of my drink. “Isn't she amazing? It's not always the same exhibit, of course, and sometimes she just does sculptures. It's not always so exciting either. Most of the time, half the attendees have done this kind of thing a million times before too. See those two guys over there?” I pointed to the side of the room where two men stood separate from most of the crowd, chatting and gesturing. “Those are art critics from the city. I remember them from when we lived in Boston a few years ago. I think they were impressed, too, though. Usually they're just straight-faced and a little bored looking.”

Caleb eyed the men with curiosity while Amy made a little pout in their direction. “I don't know how they
couldn't
be impressed,” she said. “Unless they're blind or dead, and it doesn't look like they're either. Well, maybe a little dead-ish, but not
dead
dead.”

I giggled. “Well, we can read what they thought in the paper tomorrow. At least one of them will write up their review tonight.” The men broke from the side of the room and started toward where my aunt was standing next to a bronze plaque that had also been unveiled. “This is where she tells them all about the piece and her inspiration and all that. They could read it all on that plaque, but it's more interesting to hear my aunt tell it. She'll entertain them for a while now.”