Romeo's Silent Orchid

Chapter 3

Her lips turned into a smile as she looked down at me, then she went back to her seat, her pumps giving small *thuds* against the hard wood. Taking a second to glance at the switch beside my head that she flipped on, I walked forward before she had to say anything and took a seat in one of two grey cushioned chairs, resting my elbows on smooth wooden armrests.

The admin had no name plate sitting on her desk, so I had no idea what to address her as. Her slim fingers flipped through a few pages resting on her desk. She used her thumb to brace against a stack of them, gently dropping each one when she didn’t find what she was looking for. Suddenly, her search was put to a halt. I observed her placing the paper in a blue folder and sliding it aside. She folded her arms on the desktop, and taking the time to look at me fully for the time since I came in.

“My name is Mrs. Stevenson,” I heard her say. She reached out her left hand. I shook it without hesitation. “But Meloney is what I prefer you’d call me.”

“Meloney Stevenson,” I felt the corners of my lips turn up. “That sounds nice. I bet your parents knew what they were doing when they named you that. They knew you’d turn out to be a nice person.”

She giggled, like someone who just got a gift they always wanted. “Aw, thank you for your compliment, Amethyst.” To my surprise, she seemed to show geniune enthusiasm, something that I haven’t seen from a school board member for a long time. As she withdrew her arm, I found myself feeling, a little lighter. Strange.

Her eyelids and mouth widened, as if she just remebered something that had to be done. “I’m sorry, I seem to have left my manners at home. Good morning, and, once again, I’m sorry about that. I should have said it the moment you came in.”

“Good afternoon. It’s no problem, really.”

“Afternoon, right.” An experated breath passed through her glossed lips. In the next second brown irises met up with mine, and I felt I had no choice but to keep my gaze on her.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

I shrugged. “I’m feeling just, ‘normal’ normal, I guess. Can’t really put it into words. It’s more like, ‘yes, I’m finally here!’”

And I can’t wait to go back home.

My hands now found a spot between my legs. I let them stay there. I shuffled my shoulders, glancing around before staring at the ceiling.

“I mean it’s a new place, you know?” I dug my teeth into my bottom lip. “I know that it’s gonna take some, *getting used to*. Sooo, it’s, that. And… yeah. That’s all there is, at least, all that I can think of right now.”

Was that too much? But it seemed to work. She slid a tongue over her lips, gently removing off some of the gloss. Then she replyed to me with this. “Yeah, you’re going to be having that feeling for a while, more than likely a few days. It’s not going to be easy to get used to, espicially with a school of a different setup such as ours. However, it’s not impossible. We have a very broad scope of unique students, and you, Miss Amethyst, Are one of them.” She winked. “If any of them make you feel intimidated, just remember who you are and where you come from. No one is better than anyone around here, but some sure do act like it.”

I laughed in a low voice, then paused. That was a genuine one. A real fit of laughter. I gazed at her after hearing her chuckle at me, and saw that she had her hand in her kinky black hair. She made me lose my composure. I needed that composure to survive, and not get too caught up in this place and its false sense of security. After taking a brief moment to clear my throat, I decided to sit upright and gather what was left of my senses.

“Yeah, that *is* true. Thanks for that.” I stated.

Meloney waved her hands as if saying my thanks wasn’t needed. “No problem. Now let’s get down to official stuff.”

She tilted her head to focus on a the pages left on the desk, causing a few twisted locks to fall down and hover over her face. Each page was set to the side hand as she was done with them.

The rest of her hair was caught up in one, resting freely at the top of her head, held together by a peach coloured scrunchy at the very base. She wore a thin gold necklace that travelled to the crease between her breasts, ending with a tilted, diamond studded gold heart pendant that lay elegantly on the neck on her black blouse. I remember that her pumps were a light peach colour like her scrunchy, and her pants a tightfitting deep blue. All of which went amazingly with her dark, creamy complexion.

I raised my head towards her when she started speaking to me. “Welcome to the academy. As you may have known from what you read about us, we’re a school that specializes in bringing out the best of self, meaning, your talents. The usual subjects that you’d see in other high schools will still be present here, but other than that, there are a few other things that you should know.”

“Like the other classes, right,” I interjected.

Meloney nodded. “Obsolutely.” She rose one hand. “If the field that you want to study in is the music industry, we place you in a class that provides you with the basics and much more, such as vocal training, a look at some of the agencies and how they function, instrumental lessons, how to spot out bad deals, choosing an agent and so on, so on.” One finger fell. “Then, there are the athletes. Sure we have sports teams that could personally train you, but you’d still need to take the class we’ve assigned you to. That way you’d learn what to expect in your respective fields, dietery lessons, strategizing and the likes.”

Another finger followed its brother in hiding. “We also have some for acting, business investments, colonary arts,” she continued counting them off until none were left. “You don’t have to worry about it too much though, as your parents have already filled out what class you’ll be attending, so you’d just have to confirm that you’d be attending that class by filling up this sheet.”

A simple page caught my attention as it laid in front of me. I took it. On it were requests for simple information, some personal, others regarding my attendance here. I squinted at it, but then relaxed.

“And another thing,” I looked up. An arm helped prevent her head from falling on hard wood. Eyelids lingered close to her pupil as if she was trying to get a better look at me. “If you don’t want to take that course specificly, you don’t have to.”

I gave her a confused look. Somehow the expression on my face caused her to smile again.

“I mean you can change it and go for the course you want to do,” she says. “You don’t have to fret if your parents find out or anything, if a course is changed by a student then only that student can change it back. Another thing to note is once a course is switched, it can’t switched back until the end of the term.” The student admin shook her head, leaning back into her leather-clad seat. “So, be sure not to make any mistakes or you’ll be stuck with those classes for a while. Or choose one and just stick with the normal classes, there are students here that do and they’re very content. Even though they don’t do any special subjects, they still get prepped in preparation for collage.”

A smile spread across my face as I thought of what to say next. “Those parents must have been pissed.” Calm, aware, despite most-likely having said this to a hundred students over a hundred times, she kept a professional air about her and the tone of her voice didn’t sound the least bit tired or repeatative. I didn’t even care that I said “pissed” instead of replacing it for a more appropriate word. She seems like the kind of person I wouldn’t mind having by my side. As a mentor of course.

But, ah…

It’s too soon to tell.

Another hearty laugh passed through her lips. “There were some, complaints. But, what can a small, school like us do regarding that? It was on the contracts they signed. Also, children really should be given more independence when it comes to choosing their own future.”

I smiled, shaking my head. This was hardly a small school. And looks like their staff aren’t ordinary are they?

Just when I was getting a tad bit used to speaking with her, a small *click* ran through the room and ruined the pleasant atmosphere we were just starting to accumulate. I gazed over the back of my chair.

We watched as a girl with blonde hair step reluctantly through the c***k left when she opened the door. She carried a petite frame, moving in a settle but hesitant motion. I kept my gaze on her face waiting for her to look my way and meet my eyes, but her gaze barely left the floor. She walked in and shut the door, her every action making the air inside feel stiff.