The Metropolis Series #3: Quinn and Cassandra
9. Turbulence

ON OUR WAY BACK to the dorms, Julio and I decided to head to a drive-through to grab something to eat. Once I was back at St. John’s, I took our food to my dorm, dried myself up, and put on a clean set of clothes. Julio was already in dove form outside my window when I stepped out of the bathroom in a newly-changed sweater and a pair of shorts. I let him in and he transformed into a human, smoothing down his plain white T-shirt.

“I keep spare clothes in the car,” he simply said. “Anyway, dinner?”

There wasn’t a proper dining table in St. John’s dorms, and that was because we weren’t supposed to eat inside our rooms. That was what the common areas and cafeteria were for. Nevertheless, nobody followed that rule, anyway, and it definitely didn’t stop Harumi from bringing in all sorts of snacks.

Julio and I sat on the floor, just like what Harumi and I used to do, and gathered around our greasy, fast-food dinner. We were silent as we dumped all of our French fries into a paper container and poured a generous amount of ketchup all over them. We munched on our burgers and sipped our drinks, and once we were halfway through our food, Julio looked up.

“So,” he said. “Ready to practice some time traveling?”

I put down my drink. “It’s now or never, I guess. I don’t want to keep passing out just to—”

Knock, knock!

I jumped.

At first, I stayed silent. Maybe I was just hearing things. Harumi and I barely had guests in our dorm.

Knock! Knock!

Shoot, I thought.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?” Julio whispered.

I swallowed. “Who is it?”

“Quinn, you got a minute,” the voice responded from outside my door. “It’s Rachael?”

“Oh no.” I turned to Julio. “You’ve got to hide!”

Julio nodded. Aside from the fact that boys weren’t allowed in the girls’ dorms, we were afraid that Rachael would recognize him. Erasing her memories at the café would then be for nothing.

“What about all this food?” he asked.

“I’ll take care of it,” I muttered. “Just go.”

I opened the window and Julio transformed into a dove. He flew out of my dorm and perched on the sill.

“Quinn,” I heard Rachael call from outside. “You in there?”

“Just a second,” I called, closing the window. I winced at how loud the sound was. Then, I took a big step over the food on the floor and swung open the door.

“What’s up?” I asked, catching my breath.

Rachael raised a brow and peeked into my room. “Well, someone’s hungry,” she said, eyeing the food on the floor.

It was kind of funny how quickly she brushed off seeing all that food. See, nobody cared about the no-food rule.

“You busy?” Rachael then asked.

I was just about to practice my supernatural abilities so that I could defeat my evil twin, I thought in my head. Nope, sorry, can’t help you tonight.

That sounded ridiculous.

“Sorta,” I decided to say. “Why?”

“I just need help with something real quick,” Rachael replied.

“Uh, sure, come in.”

“Thanks.”

Rachael stepped in as I closed the door. I hoped she wouldn’t take long; Julio was waiting outside.

“I think I’ve finally pieced together a new song for Deus Ex Machina,” Rachael said, opening her battered songwriting notebook.

“I was able to write a decent chorus. I already have a melody in mind, but something about the lyrics feels… off. Maybe you can help me figure it out.”

“Hang on,” I stammered. “Hope you don’t mind, but why are you asking me for help with your music? I’m pretty sure the other members of Deus Ex Machina are much more capable—”

“They are—except for Curtis, though. He’s not very good with words. Bree is busy with student council and I can’t find Philip anywhere. And you’re our manager, so you’re my next best bet. Besides, they’re just lyrics. No music talk required.”

I sighed. “All right. I’ll have a look.”

“How about I sing it for you? So that you can have an idea of what the song sounds like?”

“Okay.”

I sat on my bed as Rachael took center stage amidst the food on the floor. As usual, her voice was amazing. It was strong and sweet, and hearing it without any instruments playing gave me goosebumps.

You were a river,

And I was below the surface,

But I’d never drown in your love

Even if the swim back up

Is too far.

So come closer,

Hold me tighter,

And never let go…

From a technical standpoint, I couldn’t find anything wrong. When I took the context of the lyrics, however, it was another story.

“So, how was it?” Rachael asked, closing her notebook.

“It’s good,” I decided to say. “Why did you think it was off?”

At first, she didn’t answer me straight away.

“Perhaps I need another metaphor,” she said. “Fire, maybe? Or the sky? Something beautiful, but also vast, mysterious, dangerous…”

“You used water,” I pointed out. “A river. It can be all those things you just mentioned. So why change it?”

Rachael chuckled. “That’s the thing. Water. I would have liked the idea of describing love like a river. It flows constantly, but the way it does so is also unpredictable. Sometimes, it’s calm, sometimes, it’s turbulent, sometimes…”

Her eyes went dark. Her ever-so-confident stance crumpled as she brought her hands to her chest as if she suddenly felt cold.

“Rachael,” I said. “Are you okay?”

Deep down, I knew she wasn’t. I wasn’t feeling so good myself, and her response would either affirm or deny those feelings.

Rachael straightened up. “I’m fine. Sorry about that. It’s just that ever since the party, I’ve been having these strange dreams…”

And there it was. She had opened Pandora’s box.

I swallowed. “What kind of dreams?”

If I’d learned anything about dreams in the past few months, I knew that they rarely brought good news. Well, maybe that was because Cassandra starred in mine almost every night. Rachael’s couldn’t be that bad, could they?

“It’s mostly blurry,” Rachael said. “But it ends with me by the banks of a river. I’m compelled to jump in, and once I do, I drown…”

I was wrong. It was worse than I thought.

There was a slim chance that it was purely coincidental that Rachael wrote a song about a river, and I held on to that chance for as long as I could. However, after hearing about her dreams, there was no point in holding on anymore.

The river in her dream was the Lethe. What else could it be?

Then, there was also the fact that Julio might still be outside my window, never expecting to learn about his former lover’s nightmares. Rachael’s jump into the Lethe made them worlds apart.

Julio still had all of his memories of her while he was completely erased from her head. I could only imagine how Julio was feeling; I wouldn’t blame him if he had already fled from my window sill, choosing to disappear for the next couple of weeks.

“Quinn,” I heard Rachael say. “Are you all right?”

I blinked. I didn’t realize how long I’d been silent. I was probably sitting there like an idiot while Rachael waited for my response.

“I’m okay,” I squeaked. I cleared my throat, hoping that my voice would return to normal. “Why?”

“You’re not saying anything,” Rachael said.

“Ah, sorry,” I stammered. “I’ve just been thinking about your dreams for a while there.”

“Do you know what they mean? They’re starting to bother me.”

I shook my head. “Sorry, I don’t think I can help you there.”

Slowly, Rachael nodded. “I see… Thanks for listening, anyway. You’ll still help me with my song, right?”

“You still want to get rid of that river metaphor?”

“Yeah. It freaks me out.”

“I get it. Just send me a copy of the lyrics and I’ll look into it.”

“Sure, what’s your profile?”

Rachael brought out her phone and handed it to me. I looked up my profile and sent myself a friend request.

“Here you go.” I gave Rachael’s phone back.

“Thanks, Quinn,” Rachael said. “I appreciate it.”

Then, clutching her notebook to her chest, she silently left my dorm. I collapsed on my bed and let out a long, deep sigh, repeatedly asking myself if the conversation I had with Rachael was real.

Of course, it was real. Who was I kidding?

Once I was sure that Rachael was out of earshot, I locked the door and opened the window. I peeked my head out to see if Julio was still outside, but before I knew it, he burst through my window in his dove form and transformed into a human once he touched the floor.

“Rachael’s been dreaming of the Lethe?” he blurted out, pacing back and forth in my room. “No, this can’t be happening. How can this be happening?” He then shot a pair of wild eyes at me. “You gave her that Lethe water, right?”

“Of course I did,” I said. “And she did forget about you being at the party; she couldn’t answer the principal’s questions about what she saw back there.”

“She said she’s been having these dreams since the party?” Julio slowed down and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “But why? What caused it?”

“Why don’t we go to The MacGuffin sometime?” I suggested. “Maybe Ms. Louise or Takahiro could—”

“No,” his voice boomed.

I knew that Julio could be scary sometimes. He could have an unpredictable temper, but that night was different. His voice hung in the air, rendering the room silent, and when he stared down at me, a shiver went up my spine. I would usually start arguing with him, asserting my beliefs on him, but all I could say at that time was:

“Why not?”

Julio averted his eyes. He let out a long, deep sigh and marched toward the window, narrowly avoiding all of the food on the floor.

“I’ve put you through too much trouble already,” he said. “I can figure this out on my own.”

“But—”

He latched his fingers on the window with all intentions to pry it open. “Focus on your powers, Quinn. I’ll deal with my own—”

The window got stuck, and Julio pounded on the glass as a curse word—in Tagalog—escaped his mouth. With a grunt, he then forced the window open, creating a sound similar to nails on a chalkboard.

“I’ll deal with my problems,” he said. “Don’t worry about it, okay?”

I then realized where the sudden change in demeanor came from. More often than not, he would shut me out whenever something regarding his past with Rachael came up.

“You know that we can always talk about this, right?” I cooed. “I’ll try to help out however I can.”

“I know that.” Julio sighed. “But not now. I need time to think.”

He stepped on my window sill and looked to the sky. His body shrunk into that of a dove, and he soared into the night.

Julio had left a lot of food at my dorm that night. I didn’t want it to go to waste, so I packed it up and had it for breakfast the next morning. I was sitting with Deus Ex Machina in the cafeteria, and I could tell that Rachael was giving my greasy breakfast some funny looks.

“Ooh, fries,” Bree exclaimed. “Can I have some?”

“Sure,” I said, passing my lunchbox to Bree. After she grabbed a handful of fries for herself, I offered some food to everyone else at the table. Curtis and Philip got their share, but when I passed my lunchbox to Rachael, she raised a hand and shook her head.

“No thanks,” she said. “By the way, were you able to look at the lyrics I sent you last night?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “I came up with something. Hang on.”

“Lyrics?” I heard Curtis say as I reached for my backpack.

“Rachael, you’re writing a new song for Ex Machina?”

“I thought it was about time we performed an original again,” Rachael said. “Quinn’s helping me with the lyrics, too.”

“Wow, Vasquez,” Bree mused. “Didn’t know you were into writing.”

“I’m not,” I said flatly.

“Good timing, too,” Bree ignored me. “I just finished filing the necessary paperwork last night. With Rachael back, Deus Ex Machina is resuming operations as an official organization of St. John’s Academy. You don’t have to leave the art club, though, Vasquez. I don’t think our band practices conflict—”

“It’s okay,” I cut her off. “I’m telling the moderator today that I’ll be leaving the art club. I don’t think painting’s really my thing.”

“Aww, too bad,” Philip said. “It looked like you were having fun.”

“And you bought all those shiny new supplies, too,” Bree added.

“It’s okay, guys,” I told them.

I sighed. I didn’t worry too much about the materials, but Philip was right. I was having fun, but then, I discovered that whatever I drew came to life. I thought about it the previous night and decided it was for the best that I stopped making art for a while. My drawings might bring something dangerous into the Metropolis, and I wouldn’t know how to reverse it.

“Are you still staying at the art club, Philip?” I then asked.

Philip pursed his lips. “As much as I enjoyed the art club, I think I’m leaving, too. The band needs me more.”

Curtis blinked. “You joined the art club?”

Philip shrugged. “Yeah. Thought I’d try it out while the band was on hiatus.”

“Well, now that the Deus is back,” I said, turning to Rachael. “I think I figured out what to do with the new song. Instead of a river, why don’t we use the sky as a metaphor, instead?”

I reached into my bag and pulled out the piece of paper where I wrote the lyrics.

“So, it now goes:

You had your head in the clouds,

And I was stuck to the ground,

But you were never out of reach.

So fall for me, babe,

And I’ll catch you.

And I’ll never let go…”

I recited those lyrics, by the way. There was no way I was singing. Nevertheless, Rachael appeared to nod with approval, and so did the rest of Deus Ex Machina.

“Wow, Quinn,” Rachael mouthed. “I’m impressed. Thank you. I’ll carry on from here.”

“Inspired, aren’t we?” Bree smirked.

I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, it’s great, Quinn,” Curtis said.

“Maybe consider writing for us more?” Philip added.

I flashed them a smile and shrugged. “We’ll see about that.”

Philip turned to Rachael. “Also, I see you’ve rewritten your new river song.”

“Yeah,” Rachael said. “I was gonna ask you for help, but I couldn’t find you. Where were you last night?”

Philip cleared his throat. “A few friends wanted to hang out at the arcade.”

“Really? Who?” Curtis asked. “You should have called me, man. I could have tagged along.”

“They’re my friends from out of town. Sorry, man.”

“I see. No worries, man.”

I got a feeling that the trip to the arcade was a cover-up for Phillip’s part-time job at the ice cream parlor. I didn’t say anything, but I watched him as he engulfed a hefty serving of steamed chicken and rice. He then averted his eyes and fell silent. I remembered the time I saw him on the sidewalk, making a seemingly suspicious phone call.

She’ll never find the archives this time, he’d said.

I still wondered what that meant.

“So, you’re still having those river dreams?” Curtis asked Rachael. He then scooted closer and placed a hand on her shoulder.

Rachael shrugged. “Last night was dreamless, thankfully, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

I wondered if Rachael had told anyone else about her dreams of the river, and I wasn’t surprised to find out that the rest of Deus Ex Machina had already known.

“You need some company at night, though?” Philip suggested.

“Maybe Bree could move in with you while those dreams keep—”

“No,” Bree and Rachael snapped.

Before anyone could say anything else, I heard my phone ring from inside my bag. I pulled it out to see who had sent me a text. My gut twisted with both excitement and nervousness as I noticed the name on the message.

“What is it, Vasquez?” Bree asked, staring curiously at me.

“The new girl, Harumi, texted me,” I replied. I felt my fingers shake and my chest grow heavy. “She says she’s moving into my dorm tonight.”

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