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emeraldacademyofficial · 1 year ago

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Chapter 3 - First Meetings: An Emerald Academy Novel

If Henry had thought he’d be too nervous for his first day to sleep the night before, he was mistaken. If he had thought he’d be too wired and jittery to oversleep that same morning, he was further mistaken. He was in a deep, comfortable sleep on his bottom bunk when the alarm on the desk began to ring; he barely stirred. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, in that ethereal space between waking and dreaming, he thought he heard movement, and a muffled thud as something hit the floor. Henry rolled onto his stomach and pulled the pillow over his head. He thought he imagined the sound of rain falling somewhere nearby.

“Henry?”

It could have been merely a minute, it could have been hours, but all of a sudden Henry felt himself being pulled away from the blissful respite of sleep. He groaned and pulled his pillow tighter over his face.

“Henry, you gotta get up,” Chase said from somewhere nearby.

“Go away,” Henry groaned.

“If you want to make it to breakfast before class starts you have to get up now,” Chase explained, giving Henry a tentative nudge on the shoulder.

Begrudgingly, Henry peeked out from under his pillow. Chase was standing above him, looking worried. Henry glared at the boy, much too tired to deal with his particular brand of neurosis right now.

“What time is it?”

Chase stepped aside and they both looked at the alarm clock. 7:02 am. Classes would begin at 8:00 am, so if Henry wanted to shower and have enough time for breakfast he needed to get up now. Still, he hesitated another couple minutes, Chase standing by impatiently, before he finally pushed himself up and rolled out of bed. He groggily rummaged through his dresser drawers for a clean pair of socks and boxers.

“Why don’t you go ahead and grab us a table?” Henry suggested.

“Oh, uh…I guess I could do that,” Chase said.

Henry side-eyed him, but thought better of snapping at the kid so early, but Chase must have sensed his impending criticism, for he shook his head and grabbed his bag off the floor.

“I’ll get us a table,” he said, and then he left the room.

Henry stepped into the bathroom, which was still a little humid from Chase’s shower. He placed his underwear on the bathroom sink and turned on the hot water. He stepped into the shower and was enveloped in steam. While he showered he examined his own feelings. To his surprise he wasn’t really nervous to start his classes. He didn’t feel particularly eager either. If anything he was a little apprehensive. He hadn’t been lying when he told his mother yesterday that he wasn’t confident in his academic skills. Was he about to make a complete fool of himself? Would he prove that he was just an average student, and get sent back home? Was he the only one here doubting himself? Somehow he didn’t think so.

Henry stepped out of his room twenty minutes later, freshly showered and dressed. He wore baggy, dark blue jeans, with his blazer open over a brick-colored tee shirt, his school bag slung over one shoulder. He was comforted, somewhat, to find himself quite a few late starters, all of whom were on their way to the main building. Henry allowed himself to be guided by the small menagerie of quiet and sleepy students. As they walked Henry glanced skyward. Thick clouds blocked out the sunlight, a stark contrast compared to the welcoming sunlight and warmth of the previous day. In the distance, beyond the walls of the academy, angry dark clouds loomed, threatening rain.

Henry and his classmates entered the cafeteria and began to disperse. He scanned the area, looking for table with a familiar face seated at it, but to his surprise and annoyance, he found Chase standing against the opposite wall, tray of food in hand. Henry crossed the cafeteria, pushing past another student here and there.

“What are you doing?” Henry asked when he reached Chase.

“Oh, uh, I’m looking for a table,” Chase replied.

Henry looked down at Chase’s tray. He had already eaten half of his food.

“Chase, no offense, but are you stupid?” Henry asked.

“Excuse me?” Chase asked, his face pink. “Why would you—“

“Do you see anyone else standing around, eating their breakfast?” Henry asked, gesturing around the cafeteria. “People are getting in line, getting their shit, and sitting down. Look, there are plenty of seats open.”

“I just couldn’t find an empty table,” Chase mumbled.

“Empty? Who cares whether or not it’s empty?” Chase muttered something about not wanting to cause trouble. Henry rolled his eyes. “Come on, follow me.”

“Huh?”

Henry grabbed Chase by the upper arm and began pulling him towards the least crowded table he could find. The girl who sat alone at the table looked up as they approached; Henry was only momentarily surprised to find those familiar emerald eyes staring back at him.

“Hey, would you mind if we sat here?” Henry asked.

“Not at all,” she said with a small shake of the head.

The girl put down her fork and pulled her tray and an open textbook closer, freeing up ample table space. Henry smiled at her, and then placed his bag on an empty seat. Chase fumbled with his tray as he sat down, still pink in the face.

”See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Henry asked.

“N-no,” Chase murmured.

”Now, I’m gonna go grab my breakfast,” Henry said. “Watch my stuff, will ya?”

Chase nodded. Henry glanced at the girl, who smiled back at him. Grinning, Henry strutted away towards the four meal lines. Henry grabbed a blue tray from the stack and, with surprising efficiency, was served scrambled eggs, a few sausage links, and a biscuit as he moved through the line. Near the end he eyed the various bottled beverages—orange juice, apple juice, and milk—before he noticed a bottle of water and snatched it up. Once he reached the front of the line he presented his ID card, which he was instructed to swipe in order to finalize his meal. Finally, Henry left the lines and returned to his table.

“Finally,” Henry exclaimed as he dropped his tray on the table and sat down beside Chase. “I’m starving.”

The girl across from them eyed his tray with a frown. Henry looked at hers. A salad.

“That’s a pretty light breakfast,” Henry observed as he skewered a sausage on his fork and took a bite. “You a vegetarian?”

”Something like,” the girl replied.

“Couldn’t imagine. I’m definitely a meat and potatoes kinda guy.”

The girl shrugged. “I don’t hate meat; I just prefer vegetables.”

“So this doesn’t bother you?” Henry asked as he took another bite of his sausage with a smirk.

The girl cringed, and Henry couldn’t tell whether the smile on her face was forced or not.

“I think your table manners leave a lot to be desired,” she said.

Henry swallowed. “Just trying to make a point. I’m Henry, by the way.”

“Kari Dowers,” the girl replied.

Henry glanced at Chase; Kari too looked at him expectedly. Chase’s face turned a dark shade of red, and he stared down at his tray.

“Chase Randell…” he muttered.

“Don’t mind him,” Henry said. “He’s not always this loud mouthed.”

“I suppose that makes you the shy one, then?” Kari asked, tilting her head slightly.

“Something like that. Whatcha reading?”

Kari glanced at her open textbook, and then propped an elbow on the table and rested her chin against her fist. “Just getting ahead on the O-chem reading.”

“O-chem?” Henry asked.

“Organic Chemistry,” Kari and Chase both replied—Chase’s words barely a whisper.

“Huh, I don’t think I have that class,” Henry said.

“Biology is typical for freshman level,” Kari exclaimed. “Chem and O-Chem are usually Sophomore and Junior years.”

“So you’re a sophomore?”

“No, this is my first year here, too.”

Chase looked up. Henry’s eyebrows shot up. “So you’re taking advanced level courses?”

Kari shrugged. “I guess so. I didn’t ask for it—I just tested well.”

Henry grimaced. He could remember the academy proficiency examination as well. He remembered struggling with the advanced mathematics section for quite a while, and his History score wasn’t the best either. It was really the sciences and English-based courses he excelled in.

“What’s your schedule like?” Kari asked as she pulled out a folded piece of paper.

Henry rummaged through his bag before finding his own. Chase, too, withdrew his schedule. With all three on the tabletop they began comparing.

“Gross, I’ve got Math first thing this morning,” Henry groaned.

“With L. Turner?” Chase asked.

Henry glanced at the name beside the class and timeslot. L. Turner.

“Yeah, with Turner.”

“I’ve got him, too,” Chase said, sliding his schedule towards Henry, who glanced at it.

“What about you?” Henry asked, eyeing Kari’s schedule curiously.

She tapped her finger against her open textbook. “O-chem.”

So no cute blonde first thing in the morning. Shame. Henry’s eyes returned to his schedule.

“Biology second, with A. Lumanee,” Henry read.

“Weird name,” Kari said. “I’ve got Geometry second.”

“Gym,” Chase chimed in.

“History third,” Henry continued. “With Professor Krenlo.”

Kari’s eyebrows rose. Chase, too, sat up straighter.

“Same here,” Chase said.

“Me too,” Kari said.

“Looks like we’ll be together then,” Henry observed.

“Our lunch period is after that.”

“English and Literature after lunch, French next, and finally gym at the very end,” Henry recited.

“I’ll see you in English and Gym, then,” Kari said.

“I’ve got French at the same time as you,” Chase said.

“Looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other,” Hiro said.

Kari glanced at her watch. “It’s almost time, actually.”

Henry shoved his schedule in his pocket and grabbed his tray. The three of them returned their trays and made their way out of the cafeteria. Once out in the cramped hallway Henry attempted to say goodbye to Kari, but she was quickly jostled away from him. Chase managed to stay nearby as Henry began pushing through the crowd. To his annoyance Chase had grabbed onto the back of his blazer as he tried to keep up.

“Where are we going?” Henry asked Chase.

“Math hall is upstairs,” Chase said.

“Come on, I’ll get us through.” Henry snatched Chase’s wrist, breaking his grip on Henry’s clothes, and pulled him along.

Henry pushed and shoved his way down the hallway. This cannot be normal. This has gotta just be first day craziness—just a bunch of kids lost and searching for their own way. Henry shouldered his way through a group of kids that seemed half his size, and emerged in a relatively quieter stairwell. Able to breathe normally again, he grabbed the guard rail and began trudging upwards. A disheveled looking Chase followed behind, no longer in need of a lifeline. The pair exited the stairwell at the top and found themselves in the corner where two hallways converged. A sign hanging above indicated that the Math Wing was down the hall directly ahead of them. In no time at all they had found the correct room.

The two boys entered the room, finding it only half-full so far. Henry scanned the room, trying to decide where he wanted to sit. Chase nudged him and pointed towards a pair of desks in the opposite corner. Henry nodded and led the way. Henry dropped his bag the furthest back of the two desks, and Chase took his seat in front of Henry. Henry leaned back in his chair, arms behind his head, and waited patiently for the room to fill up, while Chase pulled out his textbook, a notebook, and a couple pens. The kid’s studious. Frowning, Henry reached into his own bag and retrieved his own textbook and notebook, but he didn’t seem to have anything to write with.

“Chase, loan me a pen,” he said.

Chase side-eyed him, and then passed him one of the two pens on his desk. Henry was just about to thank him, when the atmosphere in the room changed. Everyone suddenly grew quiet as a middle-aged man entered the room. He was on the short side, and thick in the waist. His grey hair was short, matching his goatee, and he had severe-looking blue behind silver-framed glasses. The man—obviously L. Turner—stopped at his desk, and then scanned the room, his face set in stone.

“Good morning,” he said. Henry was surprised to find his voice rather soft. Turner glanced down at the paper on his desk. “I take it you’re all here for Algebra Part One?” There was a general murmured of consensus. Turner nodded. “Very well. My name is Larry Turner, you may call me Coach Turner��Not Mr.”

Someone on the opposite side of the room raised their hand. Turner nodded towards the girl.

“Why not Professor Turner?” she asked.

Turner eyed her in silence for a moment before responding. “I am not a professor. I am, however, the coach of the academy’s Football and Basketball teams. I have a Masters in the relevant academics required to teach mathematics, but I came to this school to coach. That being said, I would much prefer you address me as Coach Turner.” Coach Turner’s eyes returned to the paper on his desk, and he resumed where he’d left off. “As I was saying, this is Algebra Part One. It’s your basic introduction to the course. Before we dive in, however, I’m going to take roll, just to ensure that everyone is where they ought to be.” Coach Turner placed two fingers on the paper and began reading aloud. “Beth Aniston?”

“Here,” said a girl sitting near Henry.

Turner’s eyes found her, then he continued. “Brittany Bowman?”

“Here,” responded another girl.

“Jason Bradley?”

“Right here.”

So on and so forth. Turner quickly recited the list of names on his roster until he reached—

“Henry Thurston?”

Henry raised a finger. “Here.”

Turner did the smallest of double takes. His eyes narrowed on Henry. “You’re not appropriately in uniform, Mr. Thurston?”

“What’s that?” Henry asked.

“Your uniform should be fastened, not hanging open like casual-wear.”

Henry glanced down at his open blazer and red shirt. “Oh yeah, it’s a little warm today. I figured this would be more comfortable.”

“Look around, Mr. Thurston,” Coach Turner said with a sweeping gesture. “Are any of your classmates dressed so casually? Are any of them violating the dress code for the sake of comfort?”

Henry shrugged. “I mean, they could. It’s just a jacket.”

Coach Turner looked like he wanted to reprimand Henry, but instead he closed his eyes and took several breaths. When he addressed Henry again he took on what Henry guessed was supposed to be a friendly tone.

“Why don’t you just fasten up your blazer, and let’s continue, shall we?”

Henry frowned at the man. Was it really that big a deal? He begrudgingly buttoned up his blazer. He raised his eyebrows at Coach Turner. Happy now? Turner’s eyes lingered on him for only a moment longer before he nodded, and continued roll call. Once finished he strode from his desk to the white board hanging on the wall.

“To begin with,” Turner said, hands clasped behind his back. “How many of you feel you have a pretty good grasp of basic arithmetic and algebra?” The majority of Henry’s classmates raised their hands, Chase included. Turner nodded. “And how many of you think you might need a little extra help to get brought up to speed?” Nobody raised their hands this time. Coach Turner smiled knowingly. “No matter, let’s try that again. First, however, I want everyone to close their eyes—no peeking.”

Henry hesitated. He glanced around at his classmates, several of which were doing the same.

“Come now, eyes shut!” Coach Turner exclaimed. “Heads down if you feel you might be inclined to sneak a peek.

To Henry’s amusement three or four heads went down. Finally, he closed his own eyes. Staring at the darkness of his own eyelids, he wondered where this exercise was going.

“Very well. Now, how many of you think you might need some extra help to get along?” Turner asked.

Henry heard movement. This time someone raised their hand. Then movement to his immediate left told him a second of his classmates had done the same. Then a third, and a fourth. Henry hesitated only a few seconds before raising his own hand.

“Very good,” Turner said. “You may put your hands down and open your eyes. The class obeyed. “For those of you who feel they need some help—and you know who you are—I offer after-hours tutoring on Thursdays. Furthermore, you can find tutors more or less around the clock in The Cave. Cave hours are from seven am to seven pm on weekdays, nine am to three pm on weekends.”

One of Henry’s classmates raised their hand. Turner nodded towards him.

“What’s The Cave?”

“Good question, Mr. Bradley. The Cave is the nickname for what is basically our tutoring and media center. You’ll find it a little beyond the cafeteria and gym, tucked away in a short hallway. The place is kept quiet and the lighting calibrated specifically to encourage focus and peace. The tutors who volunteer in The Cave are mostly all upperclassmen, though you’ll find a few professors from time to time. If you find you need extra help with any of your classes I highly advise you take advantage of The Cave.”

“That’s cool,” Chase murmured. “We should check it out sometime.”

“I know you’re not talking to me,” Henry whispered. “What makes you think I need tutoring?”

Chase shot him a look, but said nothing. Henry ignored him, and refocused his attention on Coach Turner.

“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way,” Turner said, hands once again clasped behind his back as he walked slowly to his desk again. “let’s begin with some very basic stuff.” He picked up a small stack of papers and approached the first desk in the row Henry sat in. Turner did a quick head count and then gave the girl at the front of their row some of the papers. He moved to the next row of desks and did the same. “Take one and pass the rest back. There’s no time limit for this first assignment, save for the bell, of course. You may begin immediately. Once you are finished return your test to me—place it in the basket on my desk. I ask that you respect your classmates and do not speak while others are working. If you have any questions please do not hesitate to ask me.”

Chase passed Henry the final sheet of paper, and he peered down at it. As Coach Turner had indicated the mathematical problems and equations appeared very basic. Even I can do well on this! Feeling rather confident he got to work. The first few questions were incredibly easy, basic arithmetic, and although Henry struggled to do long division in his head, he was able to quickly work through the problem in the margin of the test. It wasn’t until halfway in that he had to stop and seriously consider the math in front of him. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t done before, but he wasn’t exactly proficient in balancing and solving equations. He glanced up at Chase, who seemed to be speeding through his own test. It looks like he’s got this. Henry got back to work.

At the end of the hour most if not all of the class had finished their test. Once or twice while they worked Coach Turner had risen from his desk and slowly walked up and down the aisles of desks, examining their work, but said nothing. Once it became obvious that everyone had finished he looked up from the document before him and scanned the room.

“All finished, are we?”

There was a murmur of assent.

Turner looked at the clock on the wall. “Well, it looks like it’s almost that time already. How about we call it a day?”

The class’ agreement was more pronounced this time. Henry’s eyebrows rose. Maybe he’s not so bad after all.

“Those of you who haven’t already, please turn in your tests before you leave. If you didn’t finish, I ask that you wait behind so that we may discuss the test.”

Henry shoved his books back into his bag, and passed Chase his pen. Together they left the room.

“That wasn’t an awful first class,” Henry said.

“I dunno, Coach Turner is kind of intimidating,” Chase mused.

“You think so? At least he didn’t call you out in the middle of class.”

Chase, who had gone slightly pink, nodded in agreement. “To be fair, you weren’t wearing your uniform correctly.”

“And nor will I,” Henry said disdainfully as he unfastened the buttons on his blazer with one hand. It’s too tight in the chest. I hate uniforms. This’ll have to do.”

“But the dress code—“

“Not every teacher here can be that much of a hardass,” Henry interjected. “I’ll button up for Turner, but if I can get away without it I'm gonna.”

“If you say so…”

“In any case, I’ve got to head to Biology next. I wonder where it is?”

“It’s downstairs, on the west side of the building,” Chase said.

“Oh,” Henry said. Then he remembered that Chase had a different class coming up. “I guess I’ll see you later?”

“In History class, yeah.”

“Alrighty then. See ya.”

“Bye.”

Henry almost stopped walking, almost doubled back to keep an eye on Chase, but the kid had to be able to at least get to class on his own. I’m not his big brother. I’m not his guardian. He’s gotta learn to manage on his own. Henry put Chase from his mind for the moment and began searching for his next class.

Professor Lumanee’s classroom was much larger than Turner’s had been. Roughly half the floor space was occupied by rows of desks. In the back half of the room, however, stood several large tables, each with various pieces of equipment placed upon them. Henry managed to find a seat two rows away from a large window that offered a view of the courtyard. Once again, the room slowly filled with his fellow freshmen, who quickly took seats for themselves. To his left sat a very pretty girl with long, chocolate brown hair. Her hazel eyes were darting about the room as she too watched the classroom fill. Once or twice her eyes found his, and Henry quickly looked away—in a totally obvious, not at all weird way. The third time this happened the girl smiled politely at him; Henry grinned sheepishly and resolutely turned to face in any direction but hers.

Upon Professor Lumanee’s arrival in the room Henry noted that she was young. Very young. She was shorter than he was by at least a head, had a slender build and bright blue eyes. Her silver-blonde hair was thick and fell partway down her back. There’s no way she’s old enough to be a teacher. She’s too young. She’s too…hot.

Like Coach Turner before Professor Lumanee began their first class by introducing herself, and then taking roll. Henry began paying attention when the girl beside him spoke up in response to the name—Breann Davis. Pretty name. Very pretty girl.

For our first class I’ve prepared a little project for you,” Lumanee announced once she was finished. “On each island in the back you’ll see that there is a microscope and a variety of slides. You will partner up into groups of three or four, seat yourselves at an island, and take turns examining the slides provided. I would have you attempt to identify what you’re seeing and match each slide to the examples on this worksheet.” Lumanee began passing out worksheets. “Then, for the very last slide you will attempt to draw the specimen you see, and label its various parts. You may use your textbook if necessary, but most of the information you need you can find on the worksheet.”

The sound of moving chairs and feet scuffling erupted in the classroom. Henry turned around to face Breann once more. She was already on her feet, eyeballing her classmates.

“Breann, right?” Henry asked.

She smiled politely at him. “Yes.”

Henry jerked a thumb back at the workstations—or “islands” as Lumanee so affectionately referred to them as. “Wanna partner up?”

Breann shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

“Excellent!” Henry hopped to his feet. “Now we just need one more. One more…There!” Henry waved at a boy who had been sitting a few seats ahead of him. He noticed Henry and looked at him passively. “Join us?” Henry asked.

The boy considered Henry’s offer, and then nodded wordlessly. The trio made their way back to an island set into a wall, and sat down around the microscope. Placed within a small container were several glass slides. None of them were labeled. Henry perused his worksheet; images of various microorganisms arranged upon it, as well as their respective names. Little lines pointing to various sections of the microorganisms notated their parts. On the reverse side of the sheet was a box, within which he would be sketching and labeling one of these little life forms.

“Have either of you ever done this before?”Henry asked as he reached for the first of the slides.

They both nodded, and Breann said, “Yeah, plenty of times. By the way, you should put on gloves. Ideally we should wash our hands before touching anything—prevent any sort of contamination of the specimens. Then, you should place just a droplet of distilled water on the slide before covering it. Er, would mind passing me the water dropper, uh…”

“Raphael,” the third member of their group answered quietly. “Here.”

Breann took the offered dropper and returned her attention to the microscope. Henry observed her as she squeezed the dropper and a single bead of water wall onto the slide. With both hands she gently placed a second slide atop the first, and slid the completed slide under the microscope. They took turns looking through the lense—first Breann, then Ralphael, and finally Henry. When it was his turn he squinted into the microscope and saw the vague, in distinct shapes underneath the slide. He obviously knew about bacteria, cells, and other forms of microbial life, but without a point of reference he had no idea what he was looking at, and could make neither heads nor tails of its supposed “parts”.

When class ended an hour later Henry hadn’t finished labeling his drawn cell—some sort of plant cell, according to Breann. Professor Lumanee walked about the islands and took their worksheets. Henry hesitated before handing his over.

“Don’t worry,” Lumanee assured him with a smile. “This first assignment won’t be graded. It was just a fun exercise—a little ice breaker for you all.”

Reassured, Henry forfeited his worksheet, and returned to his desk, where he scooped up his bag. He wanted to talk a bit more with Breann, but she had already disappeared from the room. Henry was momentarily disappointed, but then he remembered that he’d be seeing her tomorrow, and the feeling vanished. Glad to have made it through his second class of the day Henry strolled out of the room and began searching for his next class.

This time Henry had a bit of a head start. While crossing the building to the Science Hall he had thought he spotted signs pointing towards the lecture hall—where Krenlo’s class was held. It took him several minutes to double back the way he had originally come, but eventually he found the familiar signs and followed it down a corridor. As anticipated he soon found himself approaching the lecture hall.

As with the previous two classrooms a small crowd stood gathered outside the room, but as Henry drew near he realized there was something different about this group. They were packed tighter together than usual, and excited whispers coarsed throughout it. All eyes were pointed through the open door, staring at something within. Some of his classmates that stood near the back of the pack were standing on tiptoe, trying in vain to see inside. Henry approached curiously.

“What’s going on?” Henry asked a boy who stood nearby.

“I’m not sure. I think there’s a fight or something.”

“Really?” Henry asked incredulously. A fight? On the first day? He, too, began to grow excited. He wondered how serious the fight was. Had fists been thrown yet? Or were they still at the talking shit stage? Henry began pushing his way through the crowd to get a better look, but the sudden cry of a familiar voice brought him up short. Where he had been excited mere moments ago Henry now felt apprehension. The girl shouted again, and this time Henry knew he recognized her voice.

“Leave him alone!” Kari cried.

(This chapter was originally much longer, but as I wrote it I began to realize that I was front-loading a lot of character introductions into the beginning of this story. Not only that, but a single chapter consisting of the entirety of Henry’s first day at the Emerald Academy began to feel like it was dragging on. In the end I decided to break this long chapter into Chapter 3 (as seen above) and Chapter 4, separated by a sudden change of pace, increase in tension, and ultimately a little bit of action, before resuming the story of Henry’s first day. Whether or not this change is for the better is obviously up to the reader.)

—Sev

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