Academy

Anna.

I smoke under the big tree.
The big fucking tree right in front of Crescent block.
It's my favourite tree in all of Stantz.
Broad and tall, with leaves so thick its like perpetual autumn here.
"Elena's people are angry." the blue haired kid next to me says.
"Reason being?" I say, taking another drag.
I cough a bit before I pass it to him.
"You don't remember dropping a bomb on Ormand?" He asks, putting a lighter to the joint.
You can't keep anything discreet in this place.
"Yeah, I remember. My question is how the fuck YOU know?"
His eyes are humorous in the light.
"People tell me things," Syn laughs.
I nod and light my last cigarette.
It was Kuzuyu who gave me my first cigarette, "death sticks" she'd call them. We'd smoke outside the library dorm windows.
But that was a when I first got here.
A lot has changed since then. Some things haven't. For one, she still smokes.
I still smoke.
And Elena angry, well, that's still bad news.
"They can be as pissed as they want to be, as long they don't bring thier shit anywhere near Crescent." I say, exhaling.
He laughs, smoke billowing out his nose.
"You sound like a prefect."
I stand up, and we swap cigarette for joint.
"I sound like somebody who gives a fuck."
Syn nods.
"Listen, Anna. I'm not judging you. Ya'll did what ya'll thought was nessarry. For all of us...," He looks down, his green eyes obscured from view.
"But, not every kid in Ormand is a dickhead. Plus, you've made an enemy of every two faced mage who that bomb hit.
"They all hate Forsee, granted, but they've never had reason to hate you before. Till now. "
I shrug.
And he rolls his eyes.
Mr knight in shining armour.
I don't need saving.
"I'll be fine." I say, walking away, "Just take care of yourself."
I don't wait for his answer.
A group of kids stand at the steps of Crescent.
I know two, Injabulo again speaking in his voice like thunder, next to him a girl I've come to know as Tee.
She has short cut black hair, and dark makeup.
His girlfriend I think, or just a prop. One of the girls he cascades around, for show, for protection.
I pass the joint to him as I pass, and Tee thanks me for him.
"Sure." I say, crossing the threshold into Crescent.
This place is ugly.
The main common area is small and wooden with ratty chairs bound by magic to the floors.
It's normally dim in here, though it's bright today and streams of light cascade through the windows.
In the middle of the room, a large table with an assortment of drug paraphernalia. This is normally the hub of Ormand, today its empty.
I walk past Vex's room, Crescent's resident "prefect".
He never leaves that room.
The stairs creak as I walk up, and I hear familiar voices.
I turn the corner, and Syn's group of degenerate stoners are sitting on the stairs. They stare up at me through devil red eyes, and I roll mine.
"If it isn't the hero of Crescent."Quinton says, barely.
"In the FLESH." Kick says. I roll my eyes again, continuing up as they make room for me on the the steps.
They smell like Axe bodyspray and weed.
"Nice seeing you around, babe." Kick, a beady eyed kid with buck teeth, says as I pass him.
Excuse me?
"What did you call me?"
As I turn they scatter, a cascading volley of limbs and tie dye t-shirts.
All, besides from Quinton.
"I've told them a thousand times not to be scared of you," He laughs.
My eyebrow arches up.
"Bad advice," I comment.
He laughs again, whipping blonde hair out his face. It's cut haphazardly at the bottoms, jagged, as if it were cut with a knife.
"You're a softie."
He doesn't flinch under my gaze, turning his head to the side.
I shrug.
"You got a cigarette?"
He stands, pulling a box of Marlboro from his shirt pocket and I light it.
"You going to the Library today?" I ask, unlocking my room door.
The runes on the handle glow red, and the sound of a deadbolt unlocking rings out.
Quintin steps in, making himself comfortable on my sleeper couch.
My room's small, with a fold out couch, a tiny bed and metal table taking up most of the space. The beds a mess, an eclectic mix of clothes, books, and sand piled high.
The floor's a dark wood, scuffed raw from a thousand movings of furniture.
It smells like stale smoke and gin in here.
Home.
I leave the door open, grabbing a half finished bottle of whisky from the table.
It tastes like sunlight, and I drink till my throats sore and the world's loopy.
I pass the almost finished bottle to Quintin, and plonk myself down on the sleeper.
He takes a sip and says, "To answer your question. No, I'm not going to the Library today."
"The new Recruits are in." I say.
He nods fast.
"I heard. Kirk was telling me the 3rd years are planning a bit of a surprise for em."
I laugh.
Recruits have been getting pranked since I arrived in this place, it's a tradition of sort. Soft torture, and humiliation.
The breakfast of champions.
"Let's hope they make it to the Library first." I comment.
Quinton looks up for a second, eyes fixed in the ugly crack in my ceiling, seemingly in contemplation.
"Well... I'll drink to that." He says, downing the rest of the liquor.