Page 5 of Ignition

Pale green walls climbed high, ending in delicate white moulding, a contrast to the dark wood of the floors and furniture.

Gauze curtains billowed in the cool breeze coming in through the window, drawing my attention to the desk perched right in front of it, where I’d likely spend a lot of my time.

The window overlooked not the quad, as I’d expected, but the hilly area surrounding the Academy. Mist had thickened, blanketing the ground until trees looked as though they peeked out of nothingness—tall, silent sentinels standing watch, peppered with gold, burnt orange, and dark red.

My chest swelled, and a small smile tugged at my lips as I pivoted on my heels, intending to reach for the suitcases by the door, when a smaller one to my left made me pause.

I nudged it open and smothered a gasp.

Teal-coloured tiles and a pristine claw-footed tub greeted me, bronze fixtures gleaming as if someone had just polished them.

With a snort of disbelief, last year flashed through my mind—the common bathroom down the hall, with showers I had to enter diagonally, since one of the doors always jammed.

The closing lyrics of The Ultracheese by Arctic Monkeys played on my phone as I wiped my brow and tucked the suitcases under the bed.

My belongings barely took up a tenth of the wardrobe, distinctly pathetic near the racks of perfectly pressed uniforms mocking me: a crisp white shirt, a pleated grey skirt, a deep scarlet blazer with gold threads at the collar and an emblazoned crest with a big WA.

I considered putting it on, just to signal to my brain we belonged, but my skin prickled at the mere thought.

The sycamores lining the gravel paths shed amber and crimson, leaves crumbling underfoot with a satisfying crunch as I explored the sprawling grounds.

I walked and walked for about an hour, passing joggers, a botanical garden, a glass-paned gazebo, and still, I hadn’t seen everything.

The mist had scattered, the thick blanket of clouds parted, and something gleamed up ahead, drawing my eye like a magnet and guiding my steps.

A lake, framed by manicured bushes and late-summer flowers. The elusive sun warmed the scent of lavender, and somewhere in the distance, a lawnmower coughed to a stop, the breeze carrying with it the crisp smell of freshly cut grass. I let a little smile tug at my lips and sank down onto the shore.

A swan perched on one of the boulders peeking out of the surface of the water, preening and straightening its feathers, the white almost blinding in the afternoon sun, and I fought the urge to smooth my t-shirt again.

Great. A bird made you self-conscious.

You are sooo not ready for these people.

The sky bruised purple and gold, and lamps flickered to life, their warm glow glinting off the wrought iron frame of the wooden benches, and guiding my path towards the dining hall.

Nothing could have prepared me for it.

A high-vaulted ceiling lit by—you guessed it—more freakin’ chandeliers.

It’s like these people are allergic to practical light fixtures.

I resisted gawking—or scoffing—with great difficulty.

Warm light danced in the crystals as I shut the door, making them sway and tinkle, and even I had to admit they had their charm.

Maybe it was my imagination, but I could have sworn a hush fell over the room as I entered.

Scarlet wallpaper crawled up the walls, hints of gold swirls forming intricate patterns I didn’t dare pause and examine.

Waiters whirled around between plush chairs and dark marble tables, their movements a navy blur resembling a coordinated dance more than anything.

Pri waved me over with an animated gesture, and I crept towards her, feet shuffling across polished, pale marble, worn soles brushing over thin webs of veins bleeding into the ivory.

A hundred stares gnawed into my back as I crossed the room—chin up, shoulders squared, heart hammering in my chest—resolved to look as if I belonged.

Or at least die trying.

Hushed murmurs trailed my footsteps, and a bead of cool sweat slid down my spine.