Water and Ghosts

Chapter 3

My first day of school rolls around quickly. One second I’m befriending someone, and the next I’m getting ready for my first day in a public school. Ever.

Nigel, looking incredibly self conscious, came over yesterday and asked if I wanted to hang out. I actually wanted to, so we walked out the park and just talked. I told him about being homeschooled, and that my mom died when I was young, and that my dad had died recently. That was the reason I was here.

He looked sad for me.

He told me about school, about how they almost never got new kids and that I should be prepared for all the kids to know about me. One of the couples that went to the party the night before was one of the Harbor Village’s biggest gossips, and she had a daughter our age.

“Malaysia White,” Nigel said, rolling his eyes. She was one of those girls. And apparently, we have math with her.

But the thing I was most happy about was that I had made a friend so quickly and that I got to tell that friend about my past. Maybe not the biggest thing about my past— my being an Elemental—but he knows where I’ve come from and some of the things I’ve lived through.

He just doesn’t know what some of my secret intentions are.

My outfit for the day is light blue jeans, a black shirt, and my black slip ons. I put mascara on my eyelashes and brushed my hair. My unnatural blue hair is naturally stick-straight. It’s parted on the right side of my hair— my right. It frames my face, falling to the middle of my back. I decide to leave it down for today— no doubt I’ll be putting it up a lot.

I eat a quick breakfast of homemade pancakes before answering the door. I fling it open and see, as expected, Nigel standing there in shorts and a shirt. He blinks when he sees me.

“Ready to go?” I ask, closing the door behind me. I’ve got all the stuff I need for my first day of school in the new white backpack. Everything inside, including the backpack itself, was already ready by the time I got here; courtesy of Grandma Colette.

“Yeah… yeah, let’s go,” Nigel says, leading the way around Grandma Colette’s house to the backyard. We walk to the fence in the back left corner, and then continue through the grass to the large school in the distance.

I’m suddenly so nervous I can barely breathe.

“Hey,” Nigel says softly, putting his hand on my shoulder lightly. “It’s okay. Cross country will be easy, and then you have your first class with me.” He pauses. “And… it’s okay to be nervous.”

I smile and look over at him, grateful that he’s here. Grateful that I don’t have to start school alone.

Grateful that he’s not telling me to not be nervous, but that it’s okay and reassuring me.

“Thanks, Nigel,” I whisper, taking a deep breath.

“Let’s go rock the day,” he says, and I laugh.

Nigel leads me around the back of the school over to where all of the ball fields are. On the track I see boys and girls running, with one coach telling them what to do. I smile at Nigel, breathing in deeply as I leave him to go talk to my new teacher: coach Young.

He’s on the older side, with salt and pepper hair and glasses. When he sees me, I can see the recognition. 

“Hi there,” I say, taking initiative. “I’m Aqua Evans.”

“Miss Evans, nice to meet you. I’m coach Young. Will you be a cross country runner or a track runner?”

“Cross country, sir.”

He nods, clearly appreciative that I’m respectful. “Well, welcome to Dark Star High, Aqua. We’ll get you started tomorrow morning. Be here by six a.m., and when practice is over you will have the chance to either go home and get ready or use our girl’s locker room.”

I’ll be going home I think to myself, but I just nod. 

“If you would like to go inside and sit in the commons, Aqua, that’s fine. There’s no point to you watching a bunch of people run around in circles,” he laughs, gesturing to the runners. I smile and thank him before heading towards the front of the school. There’s a bunch of kids going inside; I figure I might as well go with flow.

All the kids spill into the building. The first thing I notice is the very large, half circle staircase on the right. A bunch of people are going up, while others continue to the left, around the corner. I follow them.

There, in a huge empty space, is the cafeteria. Tables, everywhere, of all shapes and sizes. The ceiling is high above, with skylights scattered and showing the clear sky, letting in the natural sunlight. Along the walls are doors, including down the hallway I can see. I walk straight, along the right wall. Past the cafeteria area and the kitchen. On the left are more doors— more classrooms. There is a break in the wall on the right for a hallway, which I walk down. Two doors on the right, and one on the left. Locker rooms and the gym.

I turn left at the end of the hall. I notice the room number— 106. My second period class is 101.

I continue walking back towards the cafeteria area, all the way down to the first one. 101.

At least I know where to go when second period gets here. In the meantime, I decide to explore. So I make my way straight to the stairs.

There’s a small open space at the top of the stairs. Mainly, there are two different hallways to take.

After about ten minutes of walking, I feel confident in the school’s layout— and plus, I know where all of my classes are. 

The second story layout is pretty simple. Classrooms on both sides, and five rows of four classrooms. The doors always open on the bottom of the rectangle of classrooms, so there are five hallways that you can go to get from one side of the story to the other. 

8:30 rolls around and the bells ring throughout the walls. As if the lack of people in the halls didn’t tell me.

I make my way back down to the commons, I heard someone call it. I pick an empty table— one of many— and settle down. I pull my book out of my backpack, figuring I might as well study a little bit.

After school, I’m going to start training my powers. Thus, my book is teaching me things that I need to know.

What About That Element in the River. And it spells water. A very clever nickname made by another Elemental, years ago. That’s why this book is so ridiculously worn.

I startle when someone slides onto the bench next to me. Quickly, I shut the book and place my arm over it, turning to see who it is.

I blink.

Sitting there is a smirking boy. His black hair is long enough to cover the top of his ears, his green eyes glowing with amusement and color. They’re a vibrant, bottle green, framed by thick, dark lashes. His skin is a dark-ish tan, and he’s definitely sporty. He’s tall and leanly muscular, much more than Nigel. He’s wearing a white shirt with a black leather jacket and jeans, with black shoes.

“Can I help you?” I ask, exasperated.

He feins offense. “You sound annoyed. Who wouldn’t want to meet me on their first day?”

I stare at him, waiting for him to get to the point. Luckily, he drops the act.

“Actually, yes, you can help me. You can tell me what your name is.”

I roll my eyes. “Why do you care?”

“Why won’t you tell me?”

“Aqua.”

“Agua? Isn’t that water in the old Spanish language? Do you need water?”

I snort, turning to hide my laughter.

“You asked for my name, sir,” I say, turning back to him. “Well, my name is Aqua Evans. Aqua, like the color.”

The boy grins. “You’re going to have a hard time finding someone in this town who doesn’t know your name, Aqua. Your grandmother has been bragging about you for years, and even more so in the past week. Everyone here knows your name. I just didn’t want to freak you out.”

I stare at him for a minute, digesting that.

Everyone in the whole town knows my name.

Wonderful.

I blink the shock from my posture and smile grimly. “Thanks for the heads up. And what’s your name?”

The boy smiles, sitting up straight. “Glenden Edwards, at your service. Linebacker on the football team, and the most recent newbie. I guess you have that title now, huh?”

I slouch a little and turn back to my book. “Lucky me.” I hope he can hear the sarcasm.

“So what class are you skipping, Beautiful?”

I glance over at Glenden at the nickname, but I figure I might as well just let him be. “I’m not skipping. My first class of the day is cross country, and I’m not running today. What about you?”

“Football,” he sighs, stretching his left leg out. “Hurt my leg the other day, so I got the day off.”

I nod, starting to open my book. Glenden’s hand reaches out, closing it gently. His skin is smooth and warm. I look into his eyes.

“And what is your second period class, Princess?”

I do the easy thing— I hand over my schedule to let him look over it himself.

I groan internally at the smile that spreads across his face. 

“We have all of the same teachers, and second, third, seventh, and eighth period together. Aren’t we lucky?” He hands the schedule back over happily.

I just nod, figuring it would be rude to say ‘we’ll see’. I did learn that first impressions mean everything.

“So what do we do in Magic Invention?” I ask, making conversation. Glenden smiles sympathetically.

“What?” I demand.

“You’re uncomfortable.” It’s not a question.

I cringe. “Is it really that obvious?”

Glenden shrugs. “We can be partners, if you’re okay with that. I’ve been going solo since school started, but I wouldn’t mind having someone help me figure out the final ingredient to my new potion.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “The Fire Constructor.”

I snort again. “Let me guess. It makes fire?”

“Ah,” he grins, “but it’s so much cooler than making fire. You see, you can have wood or dirt or anything, really, so long as it’s a circle or a contained space. Then you pour the potion on it and bam!” He claps. “An instant fire.”

I hate to admit that I’m intrigued. What’s worse is that Glenden is the type of person that seems to be able to read people’s eyes, or posture, or emotions, because he can totally tell.

“I’ve tried a bunch of different things to make it actually work,” he says, looking away from me for the first time. “But I can’t figure it out.”

I think about it— what makes a fire work?

“Well,” I answer hesitantly, “what’s already in it?”

“Oil with the emblazen spell trapped in it, and broken pieces of wood. It’s been catching things on fire, but it doesn’t last. I’m trying to get it to be a long lasting thing.”

I close my eyes, thinking. So it’s time sensitive. What represents time?

I smile when I get the answer, opening my eyes.

My father definitely gave me a harder schooling than I’m going to get here. One of the biggest things he taught me, from a very young age, is to think outside the box. “Magic is not simple; in fact, it is complex. The answers for magic are never going to be simple and will always be complex and not at all obvious,” he said to me. Over and over until I had finally learned my lesson. Or maybe I just didn’t want to hear it again.

“Are you willing to give me credit?” I challenge, daring him to answer. I honestly don’t know what his answer will be. But my answer has a cost.

He gives me a look. “You think I’m not?” 

“I don’t know. Are you willing to go to the beach?”