ekstasis

iii

I wake up the next morning to Holly rustling around in her backpack, clearly getting ready for the new day of classes. I can't quite tell whether she looks tired—like someone who just stayed out the whole night—or it's just the dark makeup.

"Hey," I say, rubbing my eyes. "Where were you last night?"

"What, sad you missed me?" She asks, slinging the backpack over her shoulder and checking her reflection in the mirror.

I shake my head. I don't understand how she can be so rude and standoffish all the time. It must take a serious effort. "I'm not trying to pry," I say. "But you were out past curfew."

"You're not my mother," she says. "And you'd better not be a snitch. It was a one time thing, okay?"

"...Okay," I say, eyeing her warily. What I saw last night, students in robes and candles, marching out to the woods late at night—it certainly hadn't seemed like a one time thing. It looked like a cult. "But you'd tell me if something was wrong, right?"

"Now, why the fuck would I do that?" Holly snaps, shooting me a glare. "Like I said. Not my mother. I don't have time for this. I have to get to class."

With that, she storms out of the room and I am left sitting in bed, flabbergasted. We've never had a great conversation before, but this was a completely different level. Either something is wrong, or Holly is determined to be even more of a bitch than I'd initially thought. And from now on, I'm determined to figure out which it is.

｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ

I'd become so fixated on the Holly problem that I could hardly focus on any of my classes that day. Latin, history, my quiet lunch on the quad—all of it went by in a flash, until classics.

As the professor takes roll, Alexei ambles into the room and takes a seat at the front of the class, next to Daniel and another boy who I recognize from the other day in the cafeteria.

"Mr. Bragdon," the teacher—Mr. Sherman again—says dryly. "Kind of you to join us."

At this point, I sit up a bit straighter in my chair, staring at Alexei. Mr. Bragdon—Bragdon Academy—if nothing else, it's a strange coincidence.

"You know I like to make an entrance, Mr. Sherman," Alexei says, reclining back in his seat with his hands behind his head.

Mr. Sherman sighs, but there's the ghost of a smile on his face, as though he's doing his best not to laugh. "Alright, well, if everyone can go ahead and get their copies of The Odyssey out, I presume you've all done the summer reading. Before we start talking about Homer's use of dactylic hexameter or the role of fate in the narrative or what have you, I want to know how this story made you feel..."

｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ

After class lets out, I find Alexei standing in the hall talking to Daniel. I can't quite make out what they're saying, and oddly, they grow quiet as I draw closer.

"Hey, Soph, how—"

I cut him off immediately. "Alexei Bragdon?"

"Alexei Bragdon," he confirms with an uncomfortable laugh.

"So that means—"

"Yeah. Peter Bragdon is my great-great-great-great grandfather," he says. "Or something like that. I don't know. I don't like to rub it in people's faces."

Daniel chuckles and elbows him. "Smart idea. You come across as enough of a pompous asshole as is."

"Yeah, whatever," Alexei says, scowling at him. "Don't you have something better to be doing?"