Page 16 of The Amber Sunburst

4

ALEXANDER

The showers were, indeed, shared—no curtains or anything. It was harrowing even alone, and Alexander’s sure it will be more so when he has to hop under the frigid water with God knows how many people. But at least he feels clean, no longer covered in sweat and sand and salt water.

Jesus, it’s been a long day.

His sore muscles strain as he carries Zeno’s first few things to their new room, only a couple doors down the hallway. The rooms resemble dorms in pre-Fall universities. Too-tall beds, janky desks, and basically no space.

The only redeeming quality of the place, Alexander reflects while trying simultaneously to unlock their door and hold a box with several books, a pillow, and a lamp stacked on top of it, are the floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of the sea. He suspects the dorms are built into the cliff underneath the Main Building, facing away from the city.

Because he’s too focused on getting the key into the stupid lock, he loses control of his stack of objects. The lamp and pillow wobble—the door no closer to opening—but he doesn’t feel like bending down to put everything on the floor. So he treks on, resigning himself to the inevitable rockslide.

Right when the lamp begins its devastating descent toward the ground, someone comes up behind him and jumps to grab the top few items from his stack.

“A little too ambitious, were you?” they quip.

“Is there any other way to be?”

When he finally gets the door open, all he wants to do is collapse into the rock-solid bed and sleep forever, but instead he turns to the stranger leaning against his door frame: a tiny boy with long black hair pulled back, dusky-brown skin, and an intimidating amount of lean muscle.

“Thank you for the help.”

“You’re welcome,” he says, voice melodic but mature enough to make it clear that this is not a fourteen-year-old, but someone his own age. “You’re not going to say you could have handled it yourself?”

Alexander snorts. “I would probably have been knocked out by that stupid lamp if you weren’t here.”

“You’re new then? People get more obnoxious the longer they spend here,” he explains.

“Pulled up from the countryside today.”

Wow, that’s really starting to roll off his tongue.

The stranger puts out his hand. “That’s cool. I was pulled up from the city. Eudoxos. Cohort five-one-two.”

“Alexander.” He clasps Eudoxos’ hand. He would ask about the cohort thing, but at this point it’s not even in the top ten things to worry about.

Moments later, Zeno bursts in, carrying at least double what Alexander was.

“I’m here! I’m here⁠—”

He stumbles into the room, bumps into Eudoxos—who is so short he’s probably out of Zeno’s field of vision entirely—and comes tumbling down, taking both Alexander and Eudoxos with him.

“Forms, that was dumb,” Zeno groans. “Oh, hey, Xos! What are you doing here?”

“I was just coming over to yours to say hi,” he says, whipping his head back and forth to assess the boxes, Alexander, and Zeno. “Why are you moving your stuff? Are you in trouble? Did they find—you know… Or is it because of me? And—” he points at Alexander “—why’s he here?”

“You do know I’m sitting in front of you, right? You could just ask me,” Alexander says, practically pouting. He thought he was making a friend!

Zeno smiles fondly at Eudoxos despite the one hundred questions and frantic, emotional one-eighty from smug to nice-ish to anxious in under two minutes.

“Everything’s fine. I’m not in trouble. And this is Alexander, my new roommate. He’s joining cohort five-one-two,” Zeno placates. His calm balances out Eudoxos’ restlessness.

“Okay. But, roommate?” he says, eyeing Alexander warily.

Alexander knows when he’s not wanted somewhere, so he stands and announces, “I’m going to get the rest of the stuff.”

Zeno smiles apologetically at him, and he returns it on the way out. He doesn’t mind being booted. Not really, at least.