The Awakening (Daray Hall #1)

  Chapter Nine

  Jillian doesn’t believe in punishing her students for something they can’t help, so she just releases us for the rest of class and sends us back to our rooms. I’m not sure I enjoy the thought of spending quality time with Chloe, but anything is better than watching a bunch of students try to eat one another.

  When I close my bedroom door behind me, Chloe looks up from her bed, where she’s silently reading a book. She tries to hide it from me, but she’s too slow. “What are you reading?”

  “Nothing,” she says quickly and quietly, moving so that her body covers the lump under her blanket. She’s watching me with a startled expression on her face, one that’s not like her normal self.

  After a minute, I shake my head. “Fine, you don’t have to tell me,” I say, flopping facedown onto my comfortable bed. With a sigh, I close my eyes, and prepare to take a nap before dinner and worship.

  “Why are you here?” Chloe asks.

  The snobbish quality to her voice has returned, and she seems to be her normal self. “Does it matter?”

  “You’re supposed to be with Jillian, right? She told me your schedule so that I could show you around to your classes.”

  “Which you didn’t do,” I say, trying to ignore her. I just want to relax for a little bit.

  “I was busy. Now why are you here right now?”

  “Some of the others freaked and attacked one another. She let us go early. Why are you holed up in our room with a book acting all sneaky?”

  She sniffs disdainfully. “That’s none of your business.”

  “Actually, it is. We’re roommates. If you’re skipping some stupid class, I have the right to know, so that I don’t get in trouble, too.”

  “I’m not skipping,” she says defensively. “My self-defense class doesn’t start for another thirty minutes, and I didn’t have anything else to do.”

  “So you thought you’d sit around and read?”

  “You got a problem with that?”

  “No, I just didn’t think you were smart enough to read.”

  She glares at me, and I duck my head and laugh into my pillow. I can feel her staring at me and, when I peek at her, she flips her hair and sashays into the bathroom. The second the door closes I hop off the bed and throw back her blankets.

  I shouldn’t be snooping, but I’m curious what kind of books she likes to read. My bet is on Curious George, or Harold and the Purple Crayon, anything with pictures and easy-to-read sentences. I can’t find the book, and the sink is running. She’s probably just washing her hands or face.

  I look under the bed, and grin. It must have fallen down between the bed and the wall. Reaching under the bed, I close my fingers on something thick and soft. Paperback.

  Hmm, I guess Curious George is out.

  The door opens just as I flip the book over, and she gasps. “How dare you?”

  She darts forward, intent on taking the book from me, but I hold it behind my back, struggling to keep her away with one hand. She slams into me, knocking us back into the wall, and she rips the book from my hands.

  She tries to hide it, but I catch the title, and my mouth falls open. “The Stand?”

  Chloe narrows her eyes at me, and I start to laugh. She makes an exasperated and angry noise, before throwing the book back on her bed. She turns away from me, but not before I notice that her cheeks are bright red.

  “You’re such an annoying bitch!” she shouts.

  “And you’re a closet nerd!”

  She whirls on me, and her fingers are curled into deadly weapons. “I swear to the Goddess, if you tell anyone, I will gouge your fucking eyeballs out with my bare hands.”

  I don’t doubt her, so I manage to stop laughing, for the most part. Every few seconds a little giggle escapes my closed mouth, and she just sneers at me. “Chloe–”

  “Just because I’m gorgeous doesn’t mean I can’t be intelligent, too.”

  That stops my giggling, and for the first time since meeting her, I wonder if my first impression might have been wrong. I’ve only seen her a few times around Daray, and each time she’s sneering or making fun of someone smaller and less popular than she is.

  Is it possible that Chloe’s more than just a beautiful head of hair?

  She sits down on the bed, and she refuses to look at me. “Everyone thinks that just because I’m pretty I have to be this stupid bimbo incapable of thinking about anything but the next shoe sale or summer blowout. They don’t realize that I’m actually a pretty intelligent person.”

  “You hide it well,” I say, sitting next to her. “When we first met, you were such a horribly fake person, I just assumed–”

  “Well, you assumed wrong. Not that that’s entirely your fault. I’m pretty good at hiding who I really am. I have to be.”

  “Why do you do it?” I ask, curious. “It’s so much easier to just be yourself. Putting on a show for everyone can’t be easy.”

  “It’s called fitting in, and it’s something you wouldn’t know anything about. Life is easier if you pretend to be what everyone wants to see. People are nicer, and everything comes easier.”

  “But you have to be lonely.” She sighs, and I realize I’m right. “Chloe, I don’t have a ton of friends like you, but mine like me for who I really am, not who I pretend to be. That’s why I’m much happier and nicer than you are.”

  “You know, I’m not really such a mean person.” I think about her threat from a few minutes ago, and she sighs. “It’s just an act, like everything else about me. I’m actually kind of a saint.”

  I snort; I can’t help it.

  She scowls at me. “I used to volunteer at my local church whenever I had free time. I’d help clean, and organize fund raisers, and other stuff.”

  “Did you read to kids at the hospital?” I ask, hoping she doesn’t see the smartass smile on my face.

  “Actually, we just played a lot games. There wasn’t a lot of reading.”

  She looks at me, and suddenly we’re both laughing. When Chloe laughs she doesn’t look like an ice queen; she looks like a young girl that’s actually capable of volunteering for her community. She looks like the kind of girl that little kids would love to play with, and I don’t doubt for a second that she’s really a nice person.

  When we’re done laughing, she picks up her book again, and looks at it. “Have you read this before?” I shake my head, and she tucks it safely away in the drawer in her bedside nightstand. “You’re not gonna tell anyone about me, are you?”

  “No, but I think you should.”

  She snorts, but there’s a smile on her face. “I don’t think that would work out too well for me. I have an image to maintain. If I lose that, I have nothing here. I’m not the super hot girl that every girl wants to be and every boy wants to be with. I’m just…dorky Chloe Olson.”

  “I think I’d prefer dorky Chloe to super-bitch.”

  She laughs. “Well, you and I are probably the only ones.”

  “If it’s what you want–”

  “I’m only sixteen years old, Kylie. I have like two more years here. After the Transformation, I’ll be able to go wherever I want, and be whoever I want to be. I won’t have to hide myself away.”

  Chloe and I spend the next twenty minutes talking about anything we can think of, and when it’s time for her to leave for class, I’m actually sad to see her go. It turns out that Chloe isn’t stupid or bitchy at all. She’s just trying to survive in a new place with no friends or family.

  I can definitely understand that, even if I don’t agree with her decision to change who she is. If this is what makes her life easier, I don’t have the right to judge her.

  A knock on the door wakes me from a nap later, and when I open the door, Austin and Tara are standing there. They’re waiting for me to join them for dinner. I run back into the bathroom to brush out my hair, and try not to wince at the red mark on my cheek from the pillow.

  The dining hall is full when we get there,
and I notice that like earlier, Morgan is sitting alone at the far end of our table. She doesn’t even look up as we pass by, but I think she’s holding her head down so nobody sees her bloodshot black-rimmed eyes. I wonder how long she’s been crying.

  Before I can sit down, Andrea wraps her arms around me and hugs me. Nobody says anything for a second, and when she pulls away I can tell she looks a little embarrassed. “Thank you, Kylie, for saving my brother earlier.”

  I shrug it off, embarrassed that others are looking at us. “It was nothing. I just…acted. On pure instinct.”

  “Well, whatever it was you did, thank you. Our parents dropped us like we were poison the day we died. All Austin and I have now is each other. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to him.”

  She and I just stare at each other for a second, unsure of what to do next. Finally, Tara clears her throat. “Let’s eat before our food gets cold.”

  I nod thankfully and take a seat beside her, across from Austin and Andrea. Throughout the entire dinner, I find myself looking at Morgan. It’s like I can’t keep my eyes off of her. She just sits there with her head down, picking at her food, and I wonder if she has any friends.

  “Morgan likes to be left alone,” Andrea says, startling me.

  “How do you know, have you asked her?”

  Andrea shrugs. “If she didn’t like being alone, she’d make an effort to make friends. Of course, it would help if she didn’t dress like such a gothic freak.”

  I don’t say anything, even though I should point out that there’s nothing wrong with the gothic fashion. Andrea’s actually starting to like me, much sooner than her own brother said she would, and I don’t want to ruin that.

  Plus, she’s kind of right. Morgan could have friends, if she wanted them. Right?

  The rest of our dinner conversation revolves around my first worship.

  “So, Kylie, are you nervous or excited?”

  “A little of both. That seems to be pretty normal around here.”

  Andrea and Austin laugh, and I notice their laughs are strangely similar, even though Austin’s voice is deeper.

  “Don’t worry; everything will start to make more sense with time. I was a total mess before my first worship ritual,” Tara says. “But you don’t have to do anything except repeat the prayers that Jillian offers.”

  I nod, and focus on finishing the rest of my food. I can do nothing except think and, when Tara taps my shoulder, I get up with my empty tray and follow her out the door.

  The residents of Daray Hall all file into the chapel building that Kaven and I passed earlier. Now that I’m up close and personal with it, I can’t help but stare. The stone is polished and beautiful, and there’s a soft, warm glow from inside that seems so magical and inviting.

  Tara gives me a minute to just stare at the building’s beauty, before finally ushering me up to the steps. Andrea and Austin are already inside, and they’ve saving us seats, giving me time to look around before the ritual starts.

  The inside of the chapel is bathed in soft candlelight, and it casts flickering shadows over the pale, smooth surface of the walls. There are dozens of pews evenly spaced throughout the building, just like in a normal church, and most of them are already filled with friends.

  Andrea and Austin are sitting in the third pew from the front, and they’re the only two on the bench, though it seats about eight, just like the tables in the dining hall. They spot us and wave, and Tara hurries to join them, leaving me standing in the doorway to watch everything.

  My eyes wander to the front of the chapel, where a long table sits. It’s covered in a beautiful white silk cloth, and there are three unlit candles in crystal dishes. A single white rose sits in a vase off to one side, and I notice that it’s bathed in moonlight that filters in through the large skylight that replaces most of the roof.

  “Kylie, come on,” Tara whispers, motioning for me to join her.

  A sniffle catches my attention, and I notice that Morgan is folded in on herself in the very back pew, alone. She’s crying quietly to herself, and when she reaches up with a hand to wipe her face, I notice the startling horizontal lines up and down her wrist. They stand out against her incredibly pale skin, and they scream at me, “Someone help me!”

  I can’t ignore it.

  I reach out a hand to her shoulder, and she flinches away from me. When she looks up at me, it’s with a deer-in-the-headlights expression, and she almost looks like she expects me to hit or taunt her. Is that how people treat her here?

  “Morgan, do you have anybody to sit with?”

  I can feel others watching us with interested looks and whispers, and I ignore them.

  She shakes her head, looking pitiful and helpless. “No,” she says. Her voice is soft and light, almost like she’s hesitant to use it. “I don’t.”

  “Why don’t you come sit with us over there?” I ask, pointing at Tara. Andrea is gaping at me like I’ve lost my mind, and for some reason that annoys me. “Please?”

  She looks like a startled rabbit, but she nods meekly, and I help her to her feet. We both ignore the stares of the others around us, and I lead Morgan to the pew where Tara, Austin, and Andrea are waiting for me. The three of them are staring at me uncertainly, until Tara smiles and scoots down the pew.

  “Hi, Morgan. Why don’t you sit next to me?”

  Morgan smiles hesitantly, making her look less like a witch and more like a friendly girl. I take a seat next to her, thankful that Tara’s such a good friend. She jumps right into conversation with Morgan, trying to make her feel welcome, which is more than Andrea is doing.

  “Hey Morgan, Andrea and I were planning on going for a jog around the school later. Would you like to come?” Austin asks.

  She hesitates, but he smiles at her and she nods. “Alright, if you really don’t mind.” She looks over at me and whispers, “Thank you, for including me.”

  She sounds so hopeful and happy that I have to wonder if anybody’s ever tried to be friends with her before. How lonely was her life that one little run with someone would be so important?

  I just nod and smile to myself as Jillian enters the chapel.

  First Chloe, then Andrea, and now Morgan…I’m just making friends left and right today!

  Jillian stops behind the table, and clears her throat. “Fledglings! Welcome to our nightly worship. Let us begin.” Everyone is instantly quiet, and you could have heard a pin drop. Jillian spreads her arms wide, and glances up through the skylight above her.

  “Gracious Goddess, Lady of the Moon, Creator of our Life. Descend, we ask, and join us at our table.” She takes a white lighter from the table and lights the first white candle in the middle.

  “We come here tonight in the presence of the Goddess, in Her light and love to give thanks for Her blessings. We honor you on your special night. Bless us with your eternal power and love.”

  Jillian lights the other two candles, places her hands on either side of the middle one, and lifts her face once more. “Bless us, Mother Goddess, as your light washes over us and permeates us with your vibrant life energy. Goddess, you have been good to us and we thank you for all that we have.

  “Wondrous Lady of the Moon, You who greets the dusk with silvered kisses, Mistress of the night and of all magics, Who rides the clouds in blackened skies, And spills light upon the cold Earth, O Crescent-One. Shadow maker and shadow breaker, Revealer of mysteries past and present, Puller of seas and ruler of women, All-wise Lunar Mother, I greet your celestial jewel, at the waxing of its powers, with a rite in your honor. I pray by the moon.”

  “I pray by the moon.” Everyone around me repeats it quietly to themselves.

  “I pray by the moon,” Jillian says.

  “I pray by the moon.” Everyone around me repeats it quietly to themselves.

  “I pray by the moon,” Jillian says, finally bowing her head.

  “I pray by the moon.” Everyone around me repeats it quietly to themselves.
br />   One by one, Jillian blows out the white candles on the table. She bows her head and everyone else does the same. Tara pulls my head down with a grin. “This is the part where you pray to the Goddess, and hope that she hears you.”

  I close my eyes, fold my hands, and start to pray. Selene, please hear my prayer, and tell me why you chose me…

  When I open my eyes, everyone is done praying, and the other fledglings are starting to stand. One by one, they walk up to the table and gaze up at the moon through the skylight.

  I follow Tara, Austin, Andrea, and Morgan up to the table covered in the white silk cloth, and I catch the scent of roses. I can’t tell if it’s from the rose on the table, or the lotion on Jillian’s hands, but either way it calms me.

  I look up through the skylight at the moon, and the feeling of peace that flows through me is truly indescribable. I can feel the Goddess’ presence in the room, and it’s like she’s touching my heart and soul. I’ve never believed in God before, but this is remarkable.

  Someone nudges me, and I realize I’ve been holding up the line. Tara and the others are waiting just outside the door, and I jog over to them with a wide grin on my face. “I felt her!”

  Tara laughs. “It’s awesome, isn’t it? Knowing that your Goddess is there for you is the most amazing feeling ever.”

  Austin claps me cheerfully on the back and gives me a smile. “Well, your first worship ritual is over. Welcome to Daray.”