11. Arborson

I sat with my earphones in my head, paying attention to nothing but the blaring music. I glanced around at the other kids on the bus. There looked to be about sixty seats. I only counted ten that were still empty. It didn’t look like anybody was talking. I took out my earphones, once, just to make sure. Yep. Silence. Occasionally, I’d see someone mumbling something to their seat partner, or reaching into the stuffed overhead compartment to retrieve a book or an iPod, but other than that, no one really said or did anything. Everyone on this bus was strangers. And no one knew any more about what was happening to them than anyone else. Except, maybe, for me. I wasn’t sure how much extra stuff Ryan had told me, but I was pretty sure I was the most informed newborn on the bus. Unless someone else was transforming the same was as I was. But Ryan had said that he’d never heard of anything like this happening before, so I doubted it.

About an hour into the ride, the kid with the spiky black hair looked back at me. He had a frustrated look on his face. He turned halfway back around, then turned back to me. I just looked at him. His mouth moved. I took out my earphones and pressed PAUSE.

“What?” I asked.

“You’re Emma Garett, right?” he asked.

How did this guy know who I was? “Yeah,” I answered hesitantly.

“I’m Michael Johnson. Didn’t you go to Gunnison Middle School?”

“Yeah.”

“So did I.”
Michael Johnson. “You had Mrs. Gunther for eighth grade homeroom, right?” I asked.

“Yeah. I was the emo guy in the corner,” he said, quoting the stereotype.

I laughed a little. “You weren’t in the corner,” I said, remembering.

“Yeah, but I was still the emo kid, and now I’ve got your attention,” he chuckled.

I glared at him. He grinned.

“So why didn’t you go to Gunnison High?” I asked.

“We moved.”

“Where?”

“Southern California. It sucked. The ninety degree temperatures all year every year didn’t work so well with the all-black attire,” he joked, gesturing to his black t-shirt, black hoodie, and black skinny jeans.

“Yeah, I guess that wouldn’t be fun,” I agreed, thinking about the fact that he was probably wearing the same jeans as I was.

He chuckled and his eyes twinkled. His eyes were bright green with little gold flecks; just like mine—just like Ryan’s.

“Have your eyes always been green?” I asked, suspicious.

He hesitated, seeming to think about whether he was going to tell me the truth or not. He sighed. “Yeah, I guess so.”

I knew he was lying. His eyes were the Vampire-green eyes I’d grown accustomed to in the past week. I’d just wanted to see if he’d tell me the truth or not. Obviously, not. I pushed my earphones back into my head and pressed PLAY. The loud music blasted through my skull, rattling my brain around. I looked away from Michael, concentrating on the houses and buildings we were passing at lightning speed. He turned his head back around and faced the front of the bus. After about a half hour of staring out the window, I felt a light tap on my arm. I pressed PAUSE again and took my earphones out. Michael was looking at me with a strange look on his face.

“Yes, Michael?” I asked.

“I was just wondering,” he began hesitantly. “Do you think you’ll miss it?”

“Miss what?” I asked. “Gunnison?”

“Life,” he corrected me.

I just stared at him. I didn’t really know what to say to that. Of course I was going to miss it. I was going to miss my friends, my family, my town, my school. I felt tears forming in my eyes. One slid down my cheek. I reached up to wipe it away, but when I touched the liquid on my face, it didn’t feel like tears. It felt thicker, wetter. I wiped it off anyway, trying to keep the agony and loneliness at bay. Michael turned back around.

I sat there for a while, thinking. I thought about what I hadn’t let myself think about yet. I thought about what was really happening; I let reality sink in for a bit. But I stopped thinking as soon as I felt tears pooling again. Closing my mind, I jammed my earphones back in and once again, started up the whiney, screaming music. I focused on the thumping bass, the ear-splitting guitar riffs, the mind rattling drums. And, amazingly, sometime while blasting my brains out, I fell asleep.

* * *

“Emma!” Michael hissed. “Emma, wake up! Look out the window!”

I sat up groggily; I had slumped over in my seat when I’d fallen asleep. I no longer heard or felt the blaring music pounding through my skull, so I figured my iPod must have ran out of battery. Well, that was just great.

“Emma,” Michael hissed again. “Look out the window!” Why couldn’t he just shut up? I was pretty sure there was nothing devastatingly important outside the window that I had to see this instant.

Boy, was I wrong. When I finally did get to glancing out my window, I saw nothing but rocky mountains. Literally. As in, the Colorado Rocky Mountains.

“Oh my god,” I whispered in amazement. We were traveling on a gravel road that twisted and turned through tree and snow covered mountains. The rocks—where they weren’t covered in ice or plants—were several shades of red, brown, gray, tan, and black. There were frost covered pine trees and shrubs around every corner.

Suddenly, just as I was beginning to enjoy the view, the bus jerked downward. It felt like we were going down a hill on a roller coaster. A few kids shrieked.

“What’s happening?” I asked Michael, frantically.

“I’d say we are going down a steep hill,” he answered, almost condescendingly.

I sighed.

After a couple minutes of the downhill ride, the bus jerked and came to a stop. Gasps and chatter exploded throughout the seats.

Ms. Lunding stood up and faced the students. “We have about fifteen more minutes until we arrive at Arborson. Prepare yourselves. And I kindly ask that you remain silent the rest of the way.” Then she turned back around, mumbled something to the bus driver, and sat down again.

Michael turned around and faced me. “Why can’t we talk?” he whispered. I shrugged my shoulders. The sound of someone clearing their throat echoed from the front of the bus. I smiled a little, and so did Michael. He pretended to zip his lips and lock them, then threw the invisible key over his shoulder. I rolled my eyes.

Instead of turning back around, like I thought he would have, he just continued staring at me. I stared back, squinting playfully at first, but after about a minute, I mouthed, “What?”

He smirked and shook his head side to side. He pointed at his mouth, then held out his hand, signifying he didn’t have the “key” then shrugged. His emerald eyes twinkled with humor.

I turned my head and looked out the window for a couple of minutes. But the whole time, I could feel his eyes boring into my head. Eventually, I couldn’t stand the feeling of being watched, so I turned my head back around and faced him. I leaned in close to his ear.

“What’s your problem?” I whispered, agitated.

I heard another grunt from the front of the bus. What the hell? I thought. The headmistress must have super Vampire hearing or something. I had a feeling, though, that that wasn’t the only extra-special thing about her.

Michael smirked. Great. This guy was going to be annoying. Oh well.

I turned my face away from him and stared out the window for the remainder of the ride. Eventually, we turned a corner, and there it was. Arborson. It was simply the most magnificent, beautiful building I’d ever seen in my life. It looked more like a medieval castle than a boarding school. It was sand colored, contrasting with the green and white valley floor, but blending in with the mountains it was nestled between. It had huge, arched windows and large spires and towers with little turrets coming off at every angle. The doorways were large and arched, just like the windows, with intricate designs and details surrounding everything. Even from the angle I was seeing it, there were several entrances to different parts of the building.

Then reality kicked in. Great, I thought. I’m going to get lost.

“Oh my god, Emma,” Michael whispered in amazement. “It’s beautiful.”

I raised my eyebrows. Most guys wouldn’t have said something like that. I’d been expecting something like, “Sweet!” or “Awesome!” But, then again, I guess I should’ve known that Michael wasn’t the average guy.

“I know,” I agreed in a whisper. “And huge. I’m going to get lost.”

“I’ll help you,” Michael volunteered sweetly. Okay, so maybe he was more like the average, macho guy than I’d thought. Or maybe he was just nice.

The bus lurched to a stop. Everybody was dead silent. Headmistress Lunding stood up and faced the rest of the bus.

“Students,” she began in a clear, bell-like voice. “As you can see, we’ve arrived at Arborson. I’d like to ask you all to remain quiet while we get things sorted. You’ll stay on the bus and we’ll remove your luggage from storage. When we have it all out, I’ll call you out a few rows at a time so you can retrieve your belongings. Please be patient. It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes, though.” And with that, she turned and stepped off the bus, followed by the bus driver.

I checked the clock on my phone. One o’clock on the dot. Everybody looked out their windows, watching the adult Vampires unload the luggage. Of course, I looked out too. There were about four Vampires on my side of the bus—the left side, and I assumed there were that many on the other side, too. This is going to take forever, I thought. But, as I watched the Vampires unload suitcase after suitcase, placing them off to the side of the gravel road, time seemed to fly by. Or maybe it was just the Vampires. They were all moving at hyper speed, unloading four suitcases at a time and coming back to retrieve more in about two seconds. One time, the Vampires came onto the bus and quickly grabbed the luggage that had been stuffed in the overhead compartments, then flew back outside in another few seconds. The whole unloading process couldn’t have lasted more than ten minutes. With probably about two hundred pieces of luggage total, under and in the bus, that seemed pretty miraculous, in my impatient opinion.

After all the luggage had been placed neatly on the side of the road, Ms. Lunding stepped back onto the bus and began dismissing the students, a few rows at a time. I looked out the window and noticed that several more adult Vampires had arrived. When each student had his or her luggage, one of these adult Vamps would grab half of their luggage and led them around the back of the school, presumably to the dorms.

When it was my and Michael’s turn to get our luggage, the rest of the bus was, of course, empty, since we were in the back. We walked down the aisle and hesitantly stepped off the bus. Simultaneously, we both cringed back as the hot sun blazed down on us, blurring our vision and irritating our skin. When I looked up, I saw Headmistress Lunding staring at us both in wonder, almost horror. I tried to ignore the uneasy feeling I got from being under the sun and walked over to get my luggage. Michael’s was about a yard away from mine; of course it was all black. I grabbed two of my bags and looked around for someone to help me with the other two. I noticed an old, female Vampire with long, graying hair was helping Michael carry his bags. He glanced back at me, looking a bit nervous, then turned around and followed his Vampire bellhop up to the school.

I looked around, searching for a Vampire to help me with my bags. The only one I saw was Ms. Lunding. She walked over to me and grabbed my large suitcase and my knick-knack one. She turned and led me off the road. We reached the school—which was even more huge and magnificent close up—and got on a cobblestone path that led around the outside edge.

When we turned the corner, we were faced with two more large buildings that reached to the sky. Ms. Lunding led me to the farthest one, our shoes crunching on the frozen grass. There was an excessive amount of granite stairs that we had to climb before we even reached the arched, thick wooden doors. When we did, it was already open. I followed her inside and up another set of stairs located to the far right. There was a second floor landing with a door that read: GIRLS’ DORMATORIES—LEVEL I. We continued up. We reached another landing with a door that read: GIRLS’ DORMATORIES—LEVEL II. We went up another flight of stairs. Geez, I thought. How many more levels were there? The next landing had a door that read: RECREATION ROOM. I sighed as we slumped up, yet another flight of stairs. When we reached the next landing, the door read: GIRLS’ DORMATORIES—LEVEL III. Ms. Lunding stopped and so did I. She set my bags down and opened the door.

“I’ll be right back,” she said. Huh? Wasn’t this my stop? She walked in and I heard her speaking to someone, probably another professor. “Yes. Yes, very well,” I heard her say. She walked back out the door, shutting it behind her. “Emma, it looks like this one’s full up, as well. We’ll have to go up another floor.” I sighed and followed her up yet another flight of steps.

When we reached the landing leading to the door that read: GIRLS’ DORMATORIES—LEVEL IV, Ms. Lunding set down my bags again and opened the door for me. I walked in and she followed. The room we were in was dimly lit by a candle chandelier and had several candles burning in every corner and on every table. I hoped it was only a show. There was electricity here, right?

There was a notice board on the left side of the doorway, hanging on the wall. There were plush, high-backed chairs in a neat circle around a lit fireplace. There were also small couches and end tables scattered throughout the room. Ms. Lunding led me through the center, then turned a corner, leading us to a hallway lined with four thick, dark wooden doors on both sides. She put my suitcases down in the hallway.

“I’m sure most of these are empty, so you can chose which room you’d like,” she informed me. Wow, I thought. A whole room to myself. When the letter had said boarding school, I was sure I’d be dorming with at least a few other girls. But, I guess, since there were so few students here, we each got our own room; it worked for me.

“I’ll leave you to get settled in,” Ms. Lunding said. Then she looked me directly in the eyes and hers widened infinitesimally. I tried not to let my horror show on my face, as I blinked my eyes, hoping she didn’t realize they were Vampire-green already.

“You need to come to the bottom floor at three o’clock,” she informed me. “There will be a tour,” she concluded, seeming a little uneasy.

“Okay, thanks,” I said cheerfully, trying to seem normal. She turned around, heading toward the common room. But before she left the hallway, she glanced once more back at me. I smiled a friendly, shy smile and she turned back around and left, without smiling back.

I set my other two suitcases down next to the two Ms. Lunding had set down in the middle of the hallway. I curiously peeked in every room before making my decision. Each room had a different theme, it seemed. The first one was blue and white with shells. The fourth was purple and light green with flowers everywhere. The sixth room was just plain white—simple. The last one on the right, the room marked LXIV, had a small window located above the bed. There was a medium sized bookshelf, a dresser, just like the other rooms, and a desk. The walls were dark crimson with black, intricate little borders. The sheets on the bed matched the walls— dark red with lacey black designs. There was a small lamp on the bedside table that matched the comforter and the walls. There were already about twenty candles placed randomly throughout the room. I decided this was going to be my room for the next year.

I left the door open then went and got my luggage and hauled it down the long hallway. I threw it all on the bed, ruffling the sheets. Every room had its own bathroom that was similar to the rest of the room—in color and theme, at least— which was a plus. I unpacked my toiletries first, leaving the extras in the bag and putting it in the cabinet on the wall. The first part of the hour, I spent unpacking my clothes, hanging them in the closet and stuffing them in the dresser. Then I unpacked all my knick-knacks placing them neatly on the shelf and in the desk drawers. I checked my phone. It read: 2:46 PM.

I shoved it in my pocket and left my room, flipping the light switch and closing the door behind me. I walked down the hall and into the common room, where the fireplace was dying out. I didn’t see anyone else. I wondered if there were any other girls on my level. I hoped so. But, then again, it would be kind of cool to have a whole floor to myself. I stepped out onto the landing and made my way down the five flights of stairs, eventually arriving on the bottom floor, where there were about fifty other girls crowded around someone in a dark green cloak. The person was speaking. I inched closer.

“—will be going on a tour of Arborson. We don’t want you getting lost.” It was a female. She had a high-pitched voice, light blonde hair, small features, and was very slight. She looked to be in her mid to late twenties. “You’ll be visiting your classrooms and meeting your teachers. So, if you’d all be so kind as to follow me into the grounds, your tour will commence,” she concluded.

She led us down the stairs, into the rocky grounds. She stopped. “Obviously, this building is the girls’ dormitories. The one ahead of us is the boys’. Now come along.”

We all shuffled along behind her; I stayed in the back of the group, trying to avoid making contact with the other girls. Next, she led us to the courtyard.

“If there’s ever a time when you can’t find your class for some reason, come here and there will undoubtedly be someone to point you in the right direction. If you haven’t noticed, there are also maps in your common rooms for you to use.”

The courtyard was paved in cobblestone and in each corner, there was a six-foot tall fountain, surrounded by different flowers, mostly roses. Everything was covered with frost, so that made it all look even more beautiful, like a crystal scarlet winter wonderland. The fountains, though, were still bubbling with liquid life. They must run hot water through them, I thought, dryly. Nice. All year round fountains—just what a Vampire training academy needs.

I was hit with a sudden jolt of energy as I imagined hot, crimson blood flowing through the fountains. My mouth watered. I was suddenly horrified. I swallowed down the liquid in my mouth, and then cringed. It tasted bitter and sour—like I was sucking on a lemon and chewing raw chicory at the same time. I squeezed my eyes and pushed the thought of bloody fountains out of my mind, then discovered that the herd of girls was no longer around me. I glanced around and saw them under a tall, stone archway leading to another room. I jogged over to them. Half of them were in the classroom and half were in the hallway outside the room. I kept to the back again, waiting for the guide to finish up with this room. Eventually, the girls started turning around and walking in my direction. I backed up and let them lead. The small, blonde guide emerged from the classroom, then led us down the hallway and into another room.

“This is the creative writing room,” she announced.

“LeAnna!” exclaimed the writing professor.

“Derek,” she sighed. “Girls,” she said turning to us. “This is Professor Hindrick. He teaches Creative Writing.”

I looked at Derek Hindrick. He was young, with light brown hair and a round, baby face; in fact, he didn’t look too much older than we did.

“I hope you all choose to attend my class sometime this year,” he said. “I’d love to see you all take an interest in writing and your imagination,” he concluded, grinning.

LeAnna motioned for us to leave. I stepped out of the room and out of the way of the other girls.

“Le!” I heard Professor Hindrick shout behind us. I watched as LeAnna peeked around her shoulder at the group of girls, then hopped over to Professor Hindrick. She stretched up on her tippy-toes (he was at least a foot taller than she was) and pecked him lightly on the lips. They both smiled sheepish grins.

LeAnna turned around and squeezed through the crowd of girls, then led us around the corner and into another classroom. Throughout the tour, we saw nearly every room in Arborson—math rooms, science rooms, writing rooms, history rooms, etc. We saw every square foot of the grounds, as well, including greenhouses, forests, and more courtyards. Plus, LeAnna told us what everything we passed was, so I was able to locate the east tower, where I would be meeting Ryan later tonight.

At six-thirty, LeAnna led us down to the dining hall, which was on the bottom floor of the three-story school. Large, brass doors opened up to a room large enough to fit about five hundred people. Obviously, when Arborson was built, there were more students. She led us to a group of tables at the far left of the hall. They were long and rectangular, made of thick, honey stained wood and had attached benches.

“You can go get in line, if you’d like, then just come back here and have a seat,” LeAnna said as she pointed in the direction of the serving line. The rest of the girls hesitantly shuffled up to the empty serving line and got their food. Instead of getting dinner, I just sat down on the very end of one of the tables and fidgeted, hoping no one would notice me.

“Is something wrong, hon?” LeAnna asked me.

“Uh, no,” I said, looking up. “I’m just not hungry,” I lied.

“Okay. Do you feel alright?” she asked, sounding worried.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I told her.

“Okay,” she said, and then turned away, satisfied with my answer.

I breathed a sigh of relief. I did not need people getting suspicious this early on. I bent my head down again, ignoring the other girls as they came back to the table with their trays of food and sat down. Some made small talk, or introduced themselves to each other, but most were still too terrified of their current situation to be social.

Dinner ended around seven-thirty and LeAnna met us and brought us back to the dormitories. We all shuffled up to our levels. There was only one other girl that followed me to Level IV. She was a few inches taller than me, and had sandy blonde, curly hair. She had on blue jeans and a hot pink t-shirt that had WEST NEW MEXICO DANCE TEAM COMPETITION FINALISTS printed in bright blue. She introduced herself as Julia and said she was in room fifty-three, in the right hallway. I told her my name. She asked where I was from and I said, “Gunnison.”

“Lucky,” she sighed, as we sat down in the high backed chairs in front of the glowing embers of the fire. “The bus came for me at six this morning. At least you only live a few cities and a few hours away from this place.”

“Yeah,” I sighed. I didn’t particularly think I was lucky in any way at all, but she had a point. I wondered about something, though.

“If you live all the way in New Mexico, and the bus picked you up at six, and picked me up at 10, why did it only take four hours to get to Colorado, and then took three hours to get to Arborson?” I asked, confused.

“Another reason why you’re lucky,” she said, a look of fear coming into her eyes. “You think the bus driver was crazy driving here; you should’ve seen him crossing state lines. I swear we didn’t go less than one-hundred miles per hour the whole ride to Gunnison.”

“What about all the other kids?” I asked. “Do you know where they were from?”

“I think our bus picked up all the kids on the left side of the country,” she answered.

That made sense. I wondered what time the bus came for the kids in, say, Maine, or Florida, and what they had to endure driving down here. I cringed at the thought.

“Well,” Julia sighed. “I’m going to head to my room. ‘Night Emma.”

“’Night,” I mumbled, staying planted in the chair. After I heard her door close, I pulled out my phone and checked the time. 8:22 PM. That meant I only had a few more hours until I saw Ryan again. Butterflies erupted in my stomach at the thought of him holding me, kissing me. I smiled.

I sat in front of the fire for about another hour, watching as every last spot of orange light disappeared and turned to ash. When the fire was out, I got up and stretched, then headed to my room. When I got there, I plopped down on my bed, exhaustion suddenly sweeping over me.

Afraid I might accidentally fall asleep, I set my alarm on my phone for ten-forty. Then I relaxed, trying to calm myself before I had to sneak out in an hour and a half. And then, sometime during the calming period, I fell asleep.