Chosen (28 page)

“Doesn’t it scare you?”

“Think of it this way,” she said, leading me into the woods, “what we can do is just a natural manifestation of our minds.  The next stage of what our brains can become.  When you think of it like that, it’s not scary, or frightening, at all.”

But what you can do with it is
, I thought.  “Maybe.”  I needed more time to think about all this, to consider everything very carefully.  But right now, I just wanted to get my thoughts away from it all.  “Hey, isn’t today the first day of class?”

“Oh yeah! That’s right!  I hope we have some classes together.  That’d be awesome!”

“It would be fun,” I said half-heartedly.  Somehow, even knowing that Madison was part of the group – part of the
crystal seekers
– I felt more at ease around her than any of the others.  She didn’t push me toward anything or make me uncomfortable.  In fact, she didn’t make any extraneous mention of the crystals at all.  It was like, between me and her, nothing had changed. 

I followed as she led me toward the lake, and then toward campus.  In my mind, I made sure to mark the path so I could get back here on my own.  I had a suspicion that I would need to come here sometime in the future.

I ran out the door of my room, my backpack swinging wildly over my shoulder.  As soon as Madison had brought me back to the main part of campus, we said our goodbyes.  She went to get some food and I went to my room to shower, change, and get ready for class.  Thinking about academics after such a crazy couple of days was so oddly normal that, for a blissful hour, I forgot all about the strange goings-on on this island.

My first class was English.  It was taught by Professor Ann Stewart in a beautiful oak-finished room on the second floor of a building in the main yard.  The class had only twelve students, which made it the smallest and most intimate learning environment I’d ever been in.  Professor Stewart was a kindly, plump, older lady.  Her cheeks glowed crimson red.  She had a funny way of raising her voice to almost sing-song tones whenever she got excited about what she was saying.  Which, coincidentally, happened more often than not.

Our seats were assigned beforehand.  I sat beside a shy little imp of a girl with dark curly hair and thick eyeglasses.  She definitely looked younger than me.  Her demeanor made me guess that she may have skipped a few grades.  Her answers when I tried to introduce myself were short, clipped sentences.  Once I had given up trying to bring her out of her shell, I caught her looking around the room wide-eyed, as if everything were new.  That cemented it in my mind.  She was
definitely
younger.

Science class came after that.  I had so much trouble finding the building with that small, poorly labeled map that I ended up bursting through the doors a good ten minutes late, to admonishment from the professor and a series of bewildered stares from my classmates.  The professor, whose name I didn’t catch, was expecting me, and introduced me to the entire class as the “new girl” while my cheeks blossomed a scarlet red.  At that moment, I felt every single eye on me.  I looked up shyly, scanning the room with as much discretion as I could manage to check if I knew anyone.  Thankfully – or perhaps not, given the circumstances – every one of those faces was new. 

The professor directed me to a free seat near the back of the room, completely isolated from everybody else, who sat in pairs.  As he returned to his introductory lecture, I took my books out and started scribbling notes.  I had my head down when a guy in front of me turned and handed me a typed out sheet of paper.  “Everything’s on here,” he whispered, looking sidelong at my handwritten notes.  I grinned sheepishly and thanked him for the paper.

The rest of the class passed without incident.  But, for some reason, I felt an itch between my shoulders, as if somebody were watching me.  The classroom was laid out so that a row of windows stood at the back of the room, right behind me.  The room was on the third floor of the building, so there couldn’t be anybody looking in from outside.  Still, I sneaked a few periodic glances over my shoulder during lecture, just to make sure.  There was nobody there.  Yet, the itching sensation persisted.

The bell rang indicating the end of class.  I gathered my books hastily and tried to rush out.  Just as I reached the door, I heard somebody call out my name.  “Miss Bachman?”

I turned, and saw the professor looking expectantly at me.  A few kids who walked past snickered knowingly, as if they were in on some great joke of which I was the centerpiece . 

“Yes?” I said, coming up to him.  I realized that during the process of introducing me to the class, he had omitted mentioning his own name – something that, presumably, he had done earlier.  I scanned the chalkboard behind him, searching for a clue, but there was none.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you came in late today,” he said, absently shuffling a bunch of papers around on his desk. 

“I know.  I’m sorry.  I’m new, and I had a bit of trouble finding the classroom.”

To my surprise, he chuckled.  “Don’t we all, our first time here?  I’m not about to lecture you on punctuality, Miss Bachman.  I just wanted to advise you of our classroom policy regarding tardiness and absenteeism.  You missed it at the start of class.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, so I just wanted to tell you, for your own benefit.  You look like a student who takes her classwork very seriously, and I wouldn’t want you to be penalized unexpectedly.  Just so you know: every student is permitted at
most
one sick-day during the year, and one unexcused tardiness.  We won’t count yours today, so that you get a fresh slate like everyone else.”

“Oh, uh, thank you.”

“And you also need to find a lab partner.  As you no doubt saw, everybody in class sat in pairs.”

“Umm…?” I was about the mention that he was the one who sent me to the solitary desk, but thought better of it.  “But everybody else was already paired up, as I saw?”

“Hm.  Yes, quite.”  He looked up at me, and tapped a finger thoughtfully against pursed lips.  “Tell you what.  Next time you come into class, I’ll have the seating arrangement planned out for you.  You’ll join an existing pair, and your group will be the only group of three.  You don’t have any preferences about who you sit with, do you?”

“Well, I actually don’t know anyone in class yet…”

“Splendid!  That’ll make my job easier.  Oh, I like playing match-maker.”  He chuckled again, this time at his own joke.  “Well, off you go then.  You wouldn’t want to be late to your next class.”

“Thank you, Mr.—”

“Stannis,” he interjected.  “Mr.  Stannis.  I realized that I forgot to introduce myself to you.  I’m the only general science teacher this school has, so I’ve been teaching all these kids for three years, already.  They all know who I am by now, which is why I didn’t introduce myself at the start.”

“Thank you, Mr.  Stannis,” I said, hurrying out the door.  “I’ll see you next time.”

“Oh, Miss Bachman?  Don’t forget your textbook.”  I looked back, and saw that he held a brand new, shiny textbook in one hand.  I went back, thanked him for it, and went outside.

Out in the street, there were students milling all around me.  Some were leaning against park benches, talking in pairs, while others sat on the stairs of buildings.  The general stream of kids all led one way: toward the square in the middle of the yard.  I realized, somewhat belatedly, that the day was structured here so that everyone had two classes in the morning, a break for lunch, and then two classes in the afternoon.  Now was lunchtime.  I looked around, trying to get my bearings on things.  In the crowd, I felt absolutely anonymous, which wasn’t as bad a feeling as I’d imagined, given all the attention that had been paid to me recently.  I slipped into the stream, and started moving toward the square, planning to stop at the cafeteria on the way.

The cafeteria was absolutely packed, so much so that the line of kids waiting for hot food stretched outside the building.  Thankfully, I noticed a second, much smaller line inside, leading to a food station called “Fly-By.”  A short description at the bottom of the sign said that salads and cold meat sandwiches were available, and, while not as appealing as whatever hot food was being served, was definitely a viable option if I wanted to avoid the wait.  I went to the second line, and within minutes had been given a decent sized sandwich and cold can of cola.  As I came outside, I glanced at the other line, which now stretched even farther back.

It was another beautiful sunny day, so I chose to eat outside.  A light breeze ruffled my hair and flapped at the edges of my jacket, but I didn’t mind.  I walked toward the square, which was surprisingly bereft of people at the moment.  I guessed that it would fill up as more students were served their lunch.

A small cluster of kids sat around one side of the fountain, and I hopped up onto the ledge on the other side to eat my lunch.  From here, I could see nearly the entire open square, along with all the streets that led out and away from it.  Sure enough, it wasn’t long before the whole area was filled with kids.  I ate my sandwich slowly, enjoying the warm rays of the sun while people-watching.  Deliberately, I forced myself not to think about everything that had happened with Liz and the crystals, and instead just focused on what was going on in front of me.  It was a pleasant way to spend a few minutes.

After some time, the bell sounded to indicate the end of lunch.  I sat still for a few minutes, watching as the crowds slowly dissipated.  I had already checked where my next class was, and it wasn’t far away, so I had the luxury of not being forced to hurry.

Just as I was about to get up, something bumped into my shoulder, and not softly.  I looked over, and saw, of all people,
Rob
smiling at me.  For a long moment, I didn’t know what to think.  My mind just froze.  The memories of what happened with Chris, what Liz told me about Rob, and what happened at the party raced through my mind in an incoherent mess.  Again, I realized, somewhat belatedly, that I was caught just staring at Rob, not knowing what to say or what to do.  He had an uncanny effect on me.

He didn’t seem to notice.  “I saw you in class earlier,” he said. 

“Oh?” I said weakly.  I didn’t realize he was there.  And since I had seen everyone in my small English class, he could only have meant science class, where I had gone scarlet-red in front of everyone at Mr.  Stannis’s introduction.  My heart jumped to my throat, and I felt short of breath.

“Yeah.  I tried catching up to you but Stannor got you first.”  Stannor?  Was that the nickname for the professor?

“I… didn’t see you there,” I said meekly.  Much
too
meekly.  Rob was off-limits, and there was all that had happened with Chris.  Why did he still make me feel so flustered?

“I was trying to get your attention all through class, but you were so busy writing notes.”  He barked a laugh.  “You must be a good student, eh?”

“I… guess so.”  Was
that
what the prickly feeling was?  Rob looking at me?

“Well, we should study together some time.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but before I could even squeak out a word he was already gone.  I stared after him, flabbergasted with the entire sequence of events.  How was it fair that a single guy could make a girl feel so utterly discombobulated?  He turned and looked at me over his shoulder.  I quickly looked away.  Too late.  He had caught me looking.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw him smile, and then continue on his way.

With a start, I realized that I was the last person in the square.  Grabbing my bag hastily, I ran in the direction of my next class.

I collapsed onto my bed after an exhausting day of class.  I was tired.  But, it was a
good
type of tired; a very
familiar
type of tired.  It was the weariness that came after a good, productive day where you knew you had accomplished a lot.

My last two classes had been Art History and then the very abstract Theory of Knowledge.  Art History wasn’t bad.  I discovered while reading the syllabus that I had covered nearly all the topics in my old high school.  However, Theory of Knowledge threw me off guard.  It was entirely intangible, and had to do with things such as
How People Come To Know Things That Are True
, as was written on the chalkboard in enormous letters.  The professor was a younger guy, maybe in his mid-thirties, and entirely eccentric.  I couldn’t make sense of anything he was saying as he introduced the course.  He spoke of things like epistemology and cultural philosophy – in short, the sort of things I had never heard of and didn’t think I would enjoy very much.

Still, the day itself was a great way to get grounded in academic life.  I needed something like that to take my mind off things.

I lay down for a short nap.  I was startled awake later by my phone buzzing.  It was already dark outside.  I reached over for it, and had to groan.  The pain behind my temples had come back, nearly as strongly as when I’d awakened in the forest.  It took a few seconds for me to steady myself, but I finally picked up my phone.

The buzzing was a notification of a new text message.  And, interestingly, there were a bunch more unread ones right there with it.  My phone must have been going off every few minutes while I was asleep.  I had slumbered right through it.