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  Septembris 1

  The great structure of St. Reginald's Academy towers before me.

  Roof passing through the clouds, it opens way letting the warm sun pour boundlessly into my eyes.

  'It really is blindingly bright and the sky, ah, it's just so unimaginably wide-!'

  I take a deep breath of fresh air, for the first time not tainted by the aroma of the old oak wood foundations of our house.

  Without the grief of Fathers' funeral lingering over the weeks, I finally take in my surroundings with as much wonder as I please. As I stand on this path, I find that my heart is caught in my throat. Could I not just stare at this sight for hours on end? But even so, I y eyes and as I do sunlight filters through them turning the world a warm red.

  Then... I begin to reflect.

  Just in the past twenty-four hours I've been on a pne for the first time, I've been in public without being apanied by Father or Mother, and now I'm about to sit in a ... ohat's in a school to learn.

  But of course, there will be no repose here.

  As I speak, Mother is talking away "Damien's" sudden reappearance away to the neighbors and soon to the gover officials that will e around.

  I have no time to waste.

  A I stay still.

  Standing at a mere five-foot six, the eight-foot mahogany doors seem to gre back at me. Even taller stands the carved white pilrs that hold up the sed floor, they might be even more intimidating than the doors. My heart pounds even harder against my chest, feet frozen to the pavement as I tio stare bnkly at the institution. Other boys around me file in through the doors nontly, yet my grip tightens on my leather bag's straps.

  'What will be awaiting me inside?'

  The beauty of the academy suddenly feels foreboding, but maybe it's just the feeling of the unknown that makes it feel sinister.

  Is it wrong for a woman to step on these hallowed floors? Would I not only be disgrag my family but the entire nation of Aurelia-Fields by going through with this? The values this try was built on... was my existend mission an affront to it all?

  My emotions fight bad forth in my heart as I sway in tandem on the pebbled stohway beh me. A, despite the turmoil, ahought flies into my mind.

  I've read about this moment, I've dreamt about this moment.

  What if the siep I took forward would somehow ground me and wring away the miraculous feeling that I'm experieng in my soul? I don't want to let it go, not yet. And also at this moment, yes...

  I could also feel her.

  I could feel her from the moment I left the estate. Since my first step past home's door... I could hear the younger Camille that was hidden somewhere withihat hasn't stopped squealing with glee.

  She bangs on the bars of my heart begging to run amok ihe school with reckless abandon and excessive, rambunctious, ughter. This—this moment—is all she ever wanted and I'd be lying if I said that a part of me doesn't want to listen to her. But...

  'Silence.'

  Ping my arm, I whip back those emerging feelings. Has Father not taught me anything? The celr? Even if I'm wearing Damien's clothing, I am not him. And though I am hidden, I should exude the properties that a young woman should have within reason. Any more than my mission requires is disgraceful.

  I shield my eyes from the sun and steady my breath. Taking a fident step forward, my feet bring me closer to the academy than I had been a moment before. A, frustratingly, I once again find myself wavering with the subsequent step. Another sensation has overtaken my body.

  Debilitating fear.

  Jagged ice is suddenly flowing through my veins without end.

  'What if I am found out...?'

  'What if everything I studied about Damien turns out not to be enough? All I know about the outside world is what I've read from the library and Father's diories, after all.

  What would I do then?

  Where would Mother and I go?'

  Exasperated with my indecision, I let out a small groan.

  I mumble under my breath as I clutch my white cuffed shirt, "Oh heart, please be still..."

  I try to muster up the ce once again to follow the rest of the men inside when I suddenly feel a tap on my shoulder. With a gasp, I spin behio see a tall, bck-haired boy staring at me. Stunned with fear, I watch him with no words as my mouth remains doltishly agape.

  He tilts his head before fshing a kind smile my way and saying, "Hi there... you looked fused."

  Chug softly to himself while sheepishly rubbing the back of his head, he asks, "Are you Damien D'Alembert?"

  A click sounds in my head and muscle memory moves me to act through my trepidation.

  I stare him in the eyes and the words leave my mouth just as I had rehearsed a thousand times, "Yes, I am Damien D'Alembert."

  Expression softening, a relieved smile appears on his lips, "Good! I've finally found you!"

  Bending to the side, he opens his brown satchel and digs his hand in and out to reveal a crumpled pile of papers. He stares at them with wide eyes as if his own as have shocked him, before shoving his hand bato his bag in an attempt to make them more presentable. Embarrassedly fiddling with the disanized dots, he uionally leaves me time to rex and observe him closely.

  As he smooths out the papers with his thumbs, silky bck strands of his hair slip from side to side. With wide, bright eyes that were colored like crushed amon and a sharply angled face that was getting increasingly warmer with embarrassment, he switches between maintaining eye tact with me and his drawn-out attempting to get anized.

  He's skinny, that's true, yet he has a sort of muscur build beh that unassuming surface; it's evident in the rexed way that he moves. Hidden strength in his arms and legs, his muscles are the modest kind that you'd only notice if he were to flex. From only a minute of analyzing, I fidently bet the estate that he is an athlete.

  In fact, he looks kind of like how I imagihe western greasers I had read about in my books, just more nky.

  He sighs, "Just one sed..."

  My eyes trail down his face. Then of course... we had his smile. From just the few moments I've seen him for, I already tell that it's the most hy thing about him. Something about the way his lips curve upwards or maybe how his warm cheeks push up his eyes when he grins... it all makes him feel very weling and genuine.

  Even to a newly-minted criminal standing on sacred ground.

  I gnce down; embroidered on his weathered, leather satchel is the name 'Lucas Harrison.'

  He lets out a sigh filled with relief, finally having all the papers in his desired order.

  "Yes, ah, there we go... Sorry for being te Damien. You must be so overwhelmed right now, huh?" he runs his hand through the back of his hair shamefully.

  He's dohat twiow.

  "Old man Ambrose assigned me to show you around. That's the principal by the way-! Ah, but you probably already know that. I heard you've been talking."

  Standing up as his satchel slips right back to his side, he murmurs, "Usually I'm in charge of freshman, so it's kind of weird that I'm doing orientation for someone my age... But hey! Did you know that you're the first te accepted student that St. Reginald's Academy has ever had... oh, heh, you probably know that too."

  He softly taps his head with his knuckles, embarrassed once again for messing up his speech.

  I nod periodically as he speaks, afraid to say any words.

  Curiously, his kind eyes foe.

  "You're quiet, huh? That's fine. Everyone here grows out of their shell soon enough!" he ughs as he sps a hard hand on my back.

  My shoulder throbs as I try not to grimace.

  Grabbing his papers once again and straightening them, he clears his throat in a way that shows his experience before striding in front of me in an official-like manner. I straighten up and firmly pce my feet on the pavement before watg him attentively.

  He starts monotonically, "Hello there, newer, I am Lucas Harrison. Wele to St. Reginald's Academy. I will be yuide today. Before you stands-" and then he abruptly stops.

  We stand in silence for a moment as he stares at his sheets. Then, without notice, he crumples the papers in his hands into a crushed ball. Baffled, I watched him throw the dots he had spent so much time anizing, straight into the trash ext to us with near perfect aim.

  Pushing his shoulders up carelessly, he says, "Eh, you know what? These papers are really only to trick freshmen into liking this pce. I'll just give the tour to you from the heart, Damien."

  Patting me on the shoulder, he slowly guides me forward after notig my apprehension. But now following his lead, I finally find the ce to take the steps toward the school.

  'For Father,' I whisper inwardly to myself as nervous sweat drips down my hands.

  Befoing ihe institution, Lucas takes the time to lead me around the academy's entire pound. And as we move I find myself in a perma state of being awe-struck.

  The school houses a pavilion evehan our owe yard. The foliage is blindingly bright and vividly green. Grass ripples in the wind as small creatures scurry past us at lightning speed.

  A below-ground pool, clear and , murmurs beside my left, while to my right walls taining rowdy boys seem to bounce as they wait for the day to begin.

  Yet, most beautiful of all I suppose, is that all of this is topped with a blue horizon that I'm free to explore.

  All of the sights are so overwhelming that I find myself ging behind Lucas as he rambles on about the rules aions of the school.

  "So basically before css starts we all have homerooms we're assigo for thirty minutes everyday. Before then, you're typically in your dorm with your two other roommates-" He tinues.

  "Roommates?" I whisper.

  His light brown eyes catch my curious look, "Yes... you probably haven't met them yet, have you?"

  I shake my head.

  "Well... you'll see them soon enough. There's no css today since everyone is still moving in. Only homeroom, lunch, theime. And judging by your papers..." he mutters, taking out another crumpled dot from his satchel, "You're assigo the Northern Quadrant of the dorms, room 315."

  He stops his stride, turns, and g me.

  "After lunch, I help you move in, if you'd like?"

  I fiddle with my fingers at his offer.

  Though I could tell he meant well, his kindness made me very unfortable. Everything was so clear-cut and direct back at my family house. You did what you were told and that was that. Going out of your way to "help" someone, even if they were family, was a fn thing for us.

  "If you want to aplish something, you should do it alohat's how you bee a valuable addition to society."

  Father loved that quote as a self-made man.

  Lucas' brazen fidend passion only made me feel like a terrible burden.

  I muster up a nervous smile, "Thank you, Mr. Harrison, but I will be fine."

  He turns his head to the side with an awkward ugh, "Mr. Harrison...? I'm ye, just call me Lucas!"

  Correg myself, I say, "Thank you, Lucas," though it felt improper to refer to any man that wasn't my brother by their first name.

  Normally Camille wouldn't dare, but I guess that 'Damien' lives by different rules.

  He looks at me sympathetically before tinuing his tour, "I live in the North Quadrant too, if you ever need me just kno 302, okay?"

  I note down the information in my head.

  And leaving the versation at that, we tinue looking around the pound. The school is basically a secluded unity. Random academic buildings and small sheds are scattered around the courtyard along with sports pounds that are located behind the main institution. The sheds we peek into are filled with emergency gear, sports equipment, and many different tris. It all feels like a maze.

  Only knowing the ins and out of my own house, it suddenly feels as if there are a million more things to memorize here at St. Reginalds'. And separated from the neighb city by great plots of nd, it's like a world of its own.

  Abs the area around me, I turn to the side to see Lucas gazing at me. Fling after catg my sight, he realizes that he's been caught.

  "Ah... sorry for staring, Damien," he chuckles.

  "It's just that your expression reminds me of when I was a freshman. When I first got here, this pce seemed sort of magical," Lucas says as he crosses his arms over his chest.

  Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath of the fresh air.

  Then turning bae he says, "The y definitely fades after the first homework assig, but the moments iween are really... something."

  We let the silence of the grass envelope us for a sed, but the moment doesn't st long though because he breaks it instantly, his faow red with embarrassment.

  "Ah! Sorry for being so talkative," Lucas sighs as he takes a pager out of his pocket. "You probably want to get going to your homeroom now. I'll lead you there and then after that maybe we could meet for lunch if you'd like?"

  I nod and speak softly, "Okay."

  He takes a deep breath and smiles, "...Okay, then."

  From the courtyard he takes me ihe main building and guides me through the byrinth of this huge academy.

  Leading me up the old stairs and past a few fusing ers, he finally drops me off at an old weathered door on the east side of the sed floor.

  "This is it, Damien. Your homeroom for the school year. I'll see you at lunch, okay?" he grins.

  "Yes," I reply as I hand him a wonky, unpracticed, smile.

  He returns it and pces his hands in his pockets. But, before he's able to leave I'm almost pletely knocked over by a blur of white. The world spins before I eveer the event, but Lucas catches my arm before I tip over like a water-logged oe.

  "Damien! Are you okay?" he panics as he pulls me up.

  Together we look towards the cause that is still jetting away. The human-bullet is then followed by another boy that courteously goes around us. With a quick fsh of his fingers he offers us a wordless apology before tinuing his chase. A silver-haired boy and a blonde...

  I turn to see an annoyed look on Lucas' face.

  "Sorry about them, Damien. Finn McAllister's the worst. My reendation is to avoid him if you ," he sighs before looking back at me.

  When I don't respond, he notices my puzzled look.

  "Oh... let me expin. So, there are some brutes at this school, but he's worse because he's the mischievous kind of deli. Does all the wrong things, but slides his way out of trouble." Lucas expins while dusting off my shoulders.

  "You've just got to keep a thick skin around here," he says, patting me softly before leaving.

  As he walks ways, it takes me a moment before I quite process what had just happened.

  'Finn...' I think feeling unwarranted nostalgia suddenly hit me. 'Where have I heard that name before?'

  But finding myself standing alone in the hallway I decide to drop the topid reorient myself. Turning around I stand before the old wooden door that leads ihe homeroom... it's time for the objective.

  Taking a deep breath, I pce my hand on the knob and walk in.

  All eyes in the suddenly foe.