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“Whatever,” Katrina scoffs, red creeping up her cheeks before she turns on her heel. Stalking back off to whatever hole she crawled out of. The blonde, Stacia, cuts a glare at me before hurrying off in the same direction. Chasing after Katrina’s stomping, moody form.
“You better watch yourself.” Veronica, the black-haired one, sneers in my direction.
“Go suck a dick, Ronnie.” I roll the ‘R’ to emphasize the new name I have now placed upon her. My smile and voice are overly pleasant, antagonizing her further. Like I fucking care, these girls obviously had it out for me either way. I’m definitely not going to sit there and be their punching bag.
The jab has its desired effect and she huffs out an indignant breath, briefly glancing around at the growing number of onlookers before stomping away after her two friends.
I look on after them, ensuring they’ve left, before turning back to the table. A raucous roar of applause starts up at the tables surrounding us, obviously they overheard every word of the conflict. I smirk, giving a small self-indulgent bow, garnering a few chuckles before I take my seat. I shrug at Kali and Domenic who are staring at me once again in shock.
“She got in between me and my breakfast,” I state simply, picking up my fork and shoveling in bites of my French toast. My coffee’s turned cold, yuck. I shrug inwardly. Cold coffee is better than no coffee. I might have to start making iced lattes if this is going to become an everyday occurrence.
“That was hot.” Domenic smirks, his eyes briefly meeting mine before turning his attention back towards his meal. Kali nods her head in agreement before looking down at her plate also. I finish off my fruit before stacking our plates and carrying them over to the dish station.
“What class do you ladies have first?” He pulls out his phone and scrolls, only half paying attention to where he is walking as we exit the dining hall.
“No idea.” I shrug, looking at them quizzically. I mean, I did only get here yesterday, and Adrian didn’t give me that much information to go off.
“It should be in your email.” Kali smiles, and we come to a stop near the fountain. We both take our phones out, and I search for the email application.
“It says, History of the Gods.” I read out the first class listed on the timetable, looking up at them. They both nod in agreement, looking up from their schedules. I sigh a breath of relief, thankful that we all have the same class to begin with.
“So, how did you meet?” I ask, following their lead towards wherever this orientation is supposed to be held.
“We both were brought here around the same time,” Kali explains, looking over at Domenic. “All of the early recruits formed a study circle while we waited for the semester to begin. Helping each other to learn a bit more about our ancestry.”
“Unfortunately, Katrina was part of that group too.” Domenic scowls at the thought, turning up his nose as he thinks back to that time. “We bonded over our mutual disdain for her and her groupies.”
I nod in understanding, not looking forward to any classes I may share with her. I thought I was dramatic. I need to tell Nelle about her, prove to her that there are people in the world even more dramatic than me.
I cringe inwardly, processing the rest of that statement. Everyone else here would have a leg up on me, having researched extensively for weeks potentially before I arrived. I’ll need to catch up. I remind myself to ask Kali which books to read at the library after classes.
We make our way up toward the academy entrance, and I notice two towering bronze doors propped open like the dining hall’s. Students move around us, funnelling in through the open doors, and we slow our pace to match theirs. Finding three seats together, we slip into them. Students continue to stream in behind. Some anxiously search for chairs near someone they know, others group together whispering about whatever the latest news may be.
A chime rings throughout the room, not seeming to originate from anywhere in particular. The students still standing hurriedly take their seats, a few stragglers rushing in from the corridor before two men dressed in black begin swinging the doors inward. A loud thud rings out, echoing in the cavernous room as the doors close. The hushed whispers turn to silence when a figure steps out onto the expansive stage. He pulls the hood off of his long black robe.
Chills rush up my spine at the lingering shadows shrouding him in darkness. I look to my left. No one else notices or finds this odd. I lower into my seat, not knowing if the lack of reaction should be considered a good or a bad thing. My brow furrows, squinting in an attempt to make out his features. The shadows slowly lift, dissipating in inky black waves.
“Good morning, students.” His voice booms ominously across the assembly hall, again, no one else shows any sort of reaction. I school my features, not wanting anyone to know my response to his presence.
“As some of you may know, I am Headmaster Mavros, a demigod of wisdom. It brings me great joy to see so many bright shining smiles as you embark on the most important journey of your lives. The twists and turns in your path ahead may seem both exciting and daunting, but it is our duty as educators to help you succeed along the way. With that being said, it is my great pleasure to welcome you to Osias Academy.”
