Blaise

On July 5th I submitted my registration forms so that I would be able to attend the academy. July 6th, I caused the pipes in the kitchen to burst while I was getting a glass of water. A surge of energy erupted from my hand as I turned the faucet on to fill up my cup, in turn accidentally flooding the kitchen floor.

My grandparents rushed home from their respective jobs laughing at me as they sloshed into the room. Thankfully grandma waved her hand around releasing a dry heat that dried up all the water that had spilled forth and grandpa placed his hands upon the broken pipes manipulating the metal until they were welded back together.

As we cleaned up, they shared stories of magical mishaps that had happened to both my father and Uncle Devon when they were my age causing me to laugh. Their goal was to keep me from stressing over my ’oopsie’ and I will admit, it worked.

Three weeks later I took the two-hour car ride from my hometown of Wolfeboro, New Hampshire down to Nahant, Massachusetts with Lisa and Steven so we could attend the open house.

After grandpa parked his SUV, we all climbed out of the vehicle and trekked across the gravel drive over to the center of the campus where a small group of roughly forty people were milling about.

If I had to guess, I would say twenty-five of the people standing around were the upcoming group of freshmen that would be attending Black Sun along with me. The other adults were more than likely the new students’ parents or relatives at least.

There was a small makeshift stage with a podium set in the center where a young man stood dressed in a white button down that had an image of what I could only assume to be the emblem of the crest of the Academy on his breast pocket, black slacks with black wingtip shoes adorning his feet. Once he felt that everyone who would be joining the group was there, he ran a hand through brushed back sandy brown hair and began to speak. “Good morning, everyone. My name is Adam Blackwell. I am Dean Raegan Knight’s assistant. I regret to inform you that she will not be able to be here today, but she has jotted down some notes, and I have been told to divulge a bit of history about our amazing academy before I pass you off to your assigned tour guides for the day.

Now for those who don’t know, the Black Sun Academy was built in the mid-17th century by a guy named Mathew Hopkins. And though it was originally a place to train witch hunters, his great-great granddaughter Alina Hopkins and our very own witch extraordinaire, Dominic Salvino were able to end the persecution of witches and convert the academy into a school designated to teach and train all supernatural’s to coexist.” Clapping his hands together, Adam gives a small smile and then adds, “okay with that being said, I will now call out the students’ names and direct you to your tour guides for the day.”

Roughly ten minutes later a tall lithe looking dark-haired girl strolls over to us in designer clothing from the headband on her head to her high-end jeans which makes me want to gag. I hate when people feel the need to flaunt their wealth and status via their ‘fashion’.

She gives me a once over with what I would call a sneer before quickly plastering a fake smile on her face and addressing my grandparents. “Hi-ya!” she says in a pleasantly sweet but oh so fake voice. “My name is Morgan Wells, and I will be your guide for the day.” She has a snobbish air about her, and I wonder if there’s a way we can request a different guide.

Morgan manages to fool my grandparents into thinking she’s the angel of the school though as she laughs, tells (not so funny) jokes, and engages them in intellectual conversation. Meanwhile I do my best to keep the eye rolls to a minimum and stop myself from making faces at her obvious display of saccharine charm.

“Follow me this way and we can take a quick look at the freshmen dorm rooms. Once we tour building H, I will take you over to the cafeteria where you’ll be able to dine with the other incoming freshmen and their parents for a “social” and then we will continue with the last two buildings where classes and physical education take place before we call it a day. Mm’k?”

This time I’m not able to stop the hardcore eye roll that takes hold of me. I’ve never wanted to punch someone so badly upon first meeting them as I do her and I’m actually shocked at myself for feeling this way. Morgan leads us to a red brick building where we climb half a dozen steps before walking through the entrance of the five-story building.

Upon walking through the front door, we find ourselves on the first floor, but I am informed that it’s not referred to as the first floor but rather the lobby area with a black marble circular counter that I can just barely see over and a few elder students milling behind it to offer “help”. Beyond the lobby is what Morgan referred to as the common area where students can gather for movies, studying or just hanging out. There’s soda and vending machines lining one wall and in the center of the room are two pool tables plus couches and chairs strategically placed throughout the very open-floor concept. The main draw for most would be the massive flat screen hung on the adjacent wall from the vending. For me however, I spot what I am confident will be my favorite section of the room where there is a fireplace with a few different options of furniture for students to utilize for a sort of “quiet” area.

My attention is quickly drawn back to Morgan though, “the east wing is the girl’s dorm, and the floors are top to bottom with the freshmen housed on the fifth floor and the seniors on the first floor. Same with the west wing, and the boy’s side. Elevators are down this hallway here and if you’d like we can hop in and check out the freshmen floor now.” Morgan says with a smile but to me it looks forced like she can’t wait to get rid of us.

My grandparents say that they would love to go up and take a look around and I plaster a fake smile of my own on my face as I risk a glance at Miss Blackwells. We clamber into the metal contraption and watch as the dark-haired beauty pushes the button for the fifth floor.

As the door slides open, voices can be heard through the hallway as we step onto the plush red carpet. “So typically,” Morgan begins in an almost valley girl voice, “two to a room. Same in the guys’ dorm as well. There’s a curfew and the opposite sex is not allowed in your room nor hallway after 9p.m. during the week and after 11p.m. on the weekends. Both grandma and grandpa smile happily at this bit of information, and I do my best to stifle a groan. Not that I plan on breaking any rules while I’m here but everyone who comes here is over the age of eighteen.

“On the plus side, each room has its own bathroom, so you don’t have to worry about running down the hallway in the middle of the night to use the facilities. Also, each room is equipped with their own little kitchenette. Nothing fancy mind you, a small fridge, microwave, sink and cupboards but it’s nice for storing snacks and things like that.” Sweet, I think to myself because I love to sneak ice cream treats at midnight. “Alright since the previous freshmen have since moved down to sophomore rooms on the fourth floor, all the rooms are vacant up here and we can take a quick peek inside and then we’ll head out for lunch.”

Morgan pushes the closest door to her right open and then steps aside to let us walk in. Sweeping my eyes around the room I smile. Two full-size beds are set against each wall with a nightstand next to them. There is a desk near one wall that separates the bedroom area from the little kitchen. A second desk is up against another wall that is to my immediate left just as you enter the room. Beyond where the desk to my left is a small hallway that leads to the bathroom and I secretly hope that whomever I share a room with will allow me to have the bed closest to said bathroom, (small bladder).

“Well, if you all have had enough time to look around, I will take you over to the cafeteria for lunch.” Morgan is hovering by the door, a false smile once again plastered on her face. We nod that we are ready to head back out, and she leads us back to the elevators.

Stepping out of the elevator, Morgan leads us back through the common room through the lobby and back out into the afternoon sun. The heat hits us as soon as we walk outside, and I bite my tongue, so I don’t whine. I’ve never been one for being hot and sticky and that’s just what I am at the moment. “Is it always this hot out here during the summer?” I question in what I hope sounds like a bored voice. I don’t want to sound like a brat in front of Morgan, but I also want to discreetly urge her to quicken her steps to the cafeteria.

“July and August are typically the hottest months in Nahant. Thankfully we are only a mile from the beach. So, make sure you pack a swimsuit!” When she offers a genuine smile, I’m surprised. If she’d drop her attitude, the girl could be beautiful. For me though, personality truly makes a person beautiful and hers is absolutely abhorrent.

Crossing the well-manicured lawn, we veered away from the administration building where I thought Morgan was first leading us and instead make our way towards a small one-story staccato styled building. As we walk up the three steps, the entrance door automatically slides open allowing us entrance.

The aromas’ that assault my nose has my mouth watering and I barely hear Morgan as she talks about the types of foods offered for the students and the factuality. “Alright Mr. And Mrs. Salvino, this is where I leave you. I will be back here at 1 o’clock and we will proceed to finish the tour then.” My grandparents quickly shake her hand farewell and thank her for her assistance thus far. When I reach my hand out to shake and thank her, she curls her lip and gives a curt nod. I of course roll my eyes and mutter a ‘whatever’ as she turns on her heal and saunters away from us.

Grabbing a couple of slices of the most delicious looking pizza I’ve ever seen; I walk over to a cooler where they’ve placed beverages for us to take. Snagging a soda, I make my way over to a table and wait for my grandparents to join me.

Taking a bite of my pizza I look around the open space of the cafeteria. It reminds me of any typical high school cafeteria but with way more choices for food. From simple items like fruits, salads, pizza to extravagant items like steak and lobster. I can only imagine what the other food tastes like if my pizza is this good!

Savoring the tangy flavor of the pizza sauce, I watch as my grandparents make their way to me. They’re stopped fairly often along the way as apparently; they know just about everyone in the room. Giving them the side eye as they finally take their seats I pipe up, “Geesh, is there anyone in this place you two don’t know?”

Grandpa grins sheepishly at me. “Sorry sweetie. A lot of these people we haven’t seen in twenty plus years, or we know other relatives of those in here and it’s a pleasant surprise to see them and catch up on their family life.”

I nod, “I figured. Was just giving you a hard time. So, tell me, is there anyone I should know about, need to stay away from...”

“No, no,” Lisa shakes her head with a smile. “Everyone in the group of freshmen this year are amazing. That family over there are part of the royal Fae line.” As she says this, she waves to a family with long flowing silver hair and pointed ears. “I see a few members from the Mountain View Wolfe pack and just there by the cooler are a couple of witches.”

My mind can’t comprehend all this. Fae, Wolves, Witches... at least she hasn’t said any vampires will be in my class.

A cheerily fake voice comes from behind me, and I groan internally while forcing myself not to roll my eyes externally. “Hey all! You lovely folks ready for the second half of your tour?”

“Hello Morgan. Is it that time already?” Steven asks with a quick glance at his wristwatch. My grandparents stand up gathering the trash they have accumulated at the same time nudging me with smiles to get up and follow them. Heaving a sigh, I push myself up from the table grabbing my now empty tray and follow them to the trash bin to deposit my dirty tray and throw my trash away as well. Here we go for round two, yay!

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