Lips. Teeth. Tongue. Throat. Stomach. Butterflies. Nerves. Spine. Sit up straight.
I lengthen my spine and sit up straighter in my chair.
I am alone.
The dark study only holds one source of light:
A lamp on the headmaster's desk.
The light is gold and when I look down at my hands, my knuckles cast shadows over the backsides of my hands. I look skeletal and my skin looks like honey. I visualize the shape of my hand fading and turning into a pool of honey, spouting out from my wrist as blood would, then dripping over my knees where they rest.
My hand comes back into shape as the door behind me opens and closes rather quickly.
I feel warm now and I almost taste sweet honey on the tip of my tongue. Teeth. Lips. Smile.
The headmaster smiles back and she sits in her massive leather chair. It's a mahogany color and I've wondered many times would it would feel like to sit in. Her hands slide over the array of papers in front of her. The shuffling is a nice sound against the ticking of the grandfather clock to my left and the previous absence of noise.
"Miss Y/l/n."
"Yes, Headmaster Chance."
She finds the paper she was looking for and holds it under her table lamp. Her glasses sit on the bridge of her nose. She looks tired, bags hang under her eyes.
"I apologize for the late hour, but this whole ordeal has been quite the topic around here. I'm sure you know that."
I give a soft laugh and nod.
She is right. I even received an anonymous hate letter from some boy at Welton, probably.
No one likes it when a girl comes out on top. Especially when she comes out on top of a bunch of boys.
"So," Headmaster Chance begins, her lips smacking, "How do you feel about going over tomorrow for orientation? And you will start classes the next day with the rest of the students."
My stomach fell out the bottom.
"Um, yeah."
She raises an eyebrow.
"Yes," I say more confidently, adding a nod this time.
Headmaster Chance sets down the piece of paper and folds her hands over her desk and leans forward a bit. A somewhat motherly look flashes in her dark eyes.
"You have done everything that you can here. We cannot teach you anymore. We have given you all that we have to offer. You said 'yes' when we came to you with this idea. You will excel at Welton."
I nod and look down at my honey hands again.
She leans back in her chair.
"And even if you don't like it, it's your last year before college. You'll make due."
I nod again. Head. Eyes. Nose. Lips. Teeth. Tongue. Hold your tongue.
🌙
"A girl? At Welton?"
"Yes!"
"A girl!"
"Yes, Meeks, Christ!"
Steven Meeks shoves Charlie Dalton and Knox Overstreet off of his back, as they practically claw at him for the telephone.
"No way, Neil, you're crazy- Get off, Charlie!"
