NEWBORN: Book One of the Newborn Trilogy (5 page)

I blink away my dissonance. “I know that,” I
say. “But, like, seriously – I feel like I’m going to throw up if I
eat. I thought yesterday was going to be the worst, but today is
worse. I hope the trend doesn’t continue.”

“Yeah,” Gabriel says, staring into my eyes,
“me too.”

“At least class was good,” I tell him weakly.
“It distracted me from the pain for a while. Have you had class
yet?”

Gabriel’s hands stretch out behind him,
resting on the bench and holding his weight. “No. I’ve got one
class and it’s once a week.”

I thought
I
was lazy. “Why only
one?”

“I only felt like taking one,” he says,
shrugging. “I have other business to attend to while I am here.”
Turquoise eyes are hinting at something more, but his mouth isn’t
following suit. Instead, his hand goes into the pocket of his green
robes and pulls forth something that looks like a compass.

“What’s that?” I ask as Gabriel opens the
device.

The thing looks exactly like a compass except
that the needle is a long, sharp tooth. Its bottom, jagged edge is
glazed in red. His brow furrowing, Gabriel studies the mechanism.
Several moments pass with no answer.

“Well?” I follow up.

He gazes over at me, looking almost surprised
I’m still here. “Oh, sorry. I was just studying this.”

“I know,” I say impatiently, “I was just
watching you study it. What is it?”

“A Vampass,” Gabriel answers
matter-of-factly. “Great for when you’re looking for certain types
of people. One kind of person in particular, actually. Doesn’t work
well with most others. A fantastic tool for us who need it.”

“What do you mean by ‘us who need it’?” I ask
him.

“Nothing,” Gabriel says quickly, “forget I
said it.”

“I can’t,” I respond.

His gaze hardens. “Try, at least.”

“Can I see that?” I ask, reaching for it.

Gabriel snaps the Vampass shut. “No,” he
says, and deposits it back in his robes.

I stare at where I know it’s hidden, making a
mental note to go through his robes at the first chance I get to
investigate this device. Although the first time I may be able to
go through his robes will be when –

“Okay,” Gabriel says, interrupting my thought
stream.

I look up at him. “Okay what?”

“I’ll take you to the beach,” Gabriel allows,
watching me closely. “But I have one condition.”

“Of course you do.”

“Don’t ask about the Vampass and don’t ask to
see the Vampass. Clear?”

I nod again in ersatz solemnity. “I
understand, sir.”

Turquoise eyes glisten. “But you can keep
your cheek.”

* * *

Walking to my next class, I check my schedule
on my phone. I have English 103: English Composition, next. The
English class everybody has to take if they plan on graduating.
This class is going to suck compared to Victorian Era
Literature.

For one thing, I’ll be surrounded by a bunch
of students who don’t want to be there – accounting and computer
majors sighing their day away. For another, I’ll probably have to
read the fucking
Great Gatsby
again. There’s at least a 98%
chance of that occurring. Screw it – I’ll Wikipedia-plot-summary
the sucker.

I take a seat in the full classroom, going
out of my way to find a chair in the middle and by a window. I like
being close to windows. Makes me feel like I can breathe better,
even when shut. Students are glancing around with interest, but I’m
not joining in. Only one person has the key to my thoughts.

Gabriel came out of nowhere back there. How
did he do it? I wanted to ask him but he kept sidetracking me with
his boyish charm. I can’t let that keep happening. If he begins to
think he can control me I’ll be a goner. I must keep up. Must stay
in the race. He can’t win.

Win what?
my alter ego asks with a
giggle.
Your heart?

Shut up,
I tell her.
Shut up right
now!

A tall man with a short white beard walks
into the room. He’s nearly bald, unlike Dr. Renaus, and doesn’t
offer the class a smile as he sits behind his desk. “Bonjour,” he
begins, “Je m’appelle Dr. James. Enchante!”

Startled, I gaze around the room. Am I in the
wrong class? But other students are looking as alarmed as I feel,
and a moment later the professors’ eyes widen and he shakes his
head.

“Desole! Excusez-moi,” he says. “There’s
always one class where this happens at the beginning of term! I
come back from teaching in France and the first thing I do is start
by making a complete fool of myself. I beg your pardon.”

Nobody answers. We’re all too relieved we’re
in the right class.

“My name is Dr. Christopher James,” Dr. James
restarts. “I will be your professor for English 103. This class is
about the basics in grammar and reading comprehension, because if
you don’t have a solid base with those you won’t get very far. The
syllabus is available online – I see no reason to waste paper when
we don’t have to in this modern age. Has anybody read the
syllabus?” Not a sound. “I thought not,” Dr. James says
disapprovingly, “or else some of you are too afraid to speak up.
That will change. You
will
be contributing to our in-class
discussions if you expect a passing grade. In any case, the first
book we will be reading, comprehending, and then discussing is
The Great Gatsby
.”

* * *

It’s now evening and I realize I have to eat
something. Traipsing back to my dorm, I make a half-hearted stop at
the dining hall. To my surprise I actually make it through the
door. No fish today unfortunately, but there’s pasta, pizza, and
Caesar salad. I bypass all of these and head for the breakfast
section. Here a tiny refrigerator sits on the counter, its contents
a clutter of yogurt and milk.

Opening the fridge, I grab a raspberry
flavored yogurt. If I can get anything down it will be this.
Grabbing a spoon and some tea from the beverage section, I make my
way to a table by a window. I peel off the top of the yogurt
container and begin to eat, feeling the soft cultures refreshing my
stomach. It’s good. Momentarily, my nausea is at bay. Although how
long that will last I can’t say.

I’m embarrassed to be eating alone. Looking
around, I see that everybody seems to have a dinner pal. What am I
supposed to do? Go join somebody’s table randomly? It’s only the
first day and yet everybody seems to have made a friend. Sighing
into my yogurt, I have a sip of tea. I wonder where Kiri is. Or why
she hasn’t called to meet up.

Duh, you idiot,
says my alter ego.
You haven’t exchanged numbers yet!

Plus I’ve been gone all day so we haven’t had
a chance to reconnect. I should ask her to breakfast or lunch.

Or somebody else
… my alter ego hints.
You know of whom I speak.

Finishing my yogurt, I put it aside and lean
back in my chair.

I just don’t know. Gabriel makes me feel so
many things. Attraction – that’s number one. I can so easily see
his face in my mind’s eye, the white of his smile warming me like
milk. Then there’s aggravation – that’s the other emotion he brings
out in me. I’m annoyed he won’t tell me more about who he is and
what the hell he’s doing here. He can’t be here to take a
single
class. I want to know what an Immag is, and a
Vampass.

Geez, he hasn’t told me anything.

Not yet, Nora
, says my alter ego.
Not yet. Patience is your friend.

I think my friend is an empty plate,
actually. I know I’ve eaten enough and I’m not stupid enough to
attempt more. A yogurt is enough for me today. I’ll try more
tomorrow. Leaving the dining hall, I make my way back to my dorm,
my head still swimming in thoughts of Gabriel White.

I never asked him what class he’s taking.
Hopefully it’s something he likes if that’s all he’s taking. Nor
did we make specific plans as to when we’d go to the beach. We
agreed we’d go but left it at that. I must shore up the ambiguity
if I want it to happen. And I do, I really do. But Gabriel can’t
know that.

* * *

“I had the most amazing day!”

Kiri is leaning against her desk, her bob cut
swaying over her eyes. “I love my professors, Nora! My History of
Rock & Roll teacher came to class barefoot, Nora. Barefoot! I
knew we’d hit it off right away and we did. It’s a small class so
there’s lots of discussion. We were all talking about our favorite
rock bands.”

I smile pleasantly as she goes on, only half
listening. My thoughts are a scattered array of everything – Kiri,
Gabriel, class, my dad…
Fuck!
I have to call Dad tonight. Or
was he going to call me? I can’t remember.

“I’m a music major,” Kiri explains, gesturing
to a large case on her bed. “I play the cello. I’m hoping they’ll
let me into the orchestra. I mean, I think I’m pretty good…” She
trails off for a second, swiping her bob to one side, her eyes
bright and alive behind glasses. “What’s your major again?”

“English,” I remind her, taking a seat on my
bed. For some reason I feel tired all of a sudden. It’s not like I
worked hard today. Shit, I haven’t even done any studying yet. I
can’t turn in already.

But your anxiety
, my alter ego says.
It’s been bothering you all day…

With some difficulty, I manage to ignore my
alter ego and spend half an hour discussing classes with Kiri. But
I can’t ignore my conscience when it comes nagging so I excuse
myself to make the call. I have half a mind to do it tomorrow, but
Dad is pretty serious about keeping up consistent contact. Mom,
despite her tears, is flaky when it comes to calling.

Out in the hall, I dial Dad’s cell. Two rings
and an answer like always.

“Nora.” Dad’s voice is warm. I’m already glad
I called.

“Hi, Dad,” I say automatically. “How are
you?”

His laugh is subtle. “It doesn’t matter how I
am, Nora, what matters is how you are. I’m not the one away at
school for the first time.”

“That’s true,” I say. “But I’m fine, really.
Had a couple classes today. I have a couple more tomorrow. Looks
like I’ll have a ton of reading to do, but nothing impossible. If I
manage my time I should be okay. Anyway, how was your date?”

“Oh, that,” Dad says, his voice losing its
confidence. “It was a date, Nora Rae. I always hated them, even
back when your mom and I first started going out. One of the great
things about marriage was not having to date anymore.” I can tell
from his tone that he’s attempting at humor, but it’s not working.
His heart is showing through.

“Is Mom alright?” I ask shyly.

I can almost see his characteristic shrug. “I
suppose. Is she ever alright, Nora? Best as I could leave her
yesterday. What a mess.”

I hope he’s talking about the whole situation
and not just Mom.

“Why are we talking about me?” Dad asks. “How
did this happen? What about you? Make any new friends? What’s that
roommate like?”

I can’t fight off the image of Gabriel
grinning mischievously beside me on a bench, the turquoise of his
eyes burning into me. I gulp.

“Well?” Dad follows up.

“She’s really nice,” I say without thinking,
my mind somehow operating on autopilot. “Her name’s Kiri and she
plays the cello.”

“Ha, while you’re trying to sleep I bet,” Dad
guffaws.

I grin despite myself. “No – uh – that hasn’t
happened yet. But I think it would be peaceful. Might send me to
sleep rather than keep me up.”

“I hope so,” Dad says, his tone quickening.
“I’ve got a call coming, I should take it. It’s one of my
suppliers. Lots of love, Nora Rae. Stay well and study hard.”

“Love you too, Dad,” I say.

“Oh, and expect a package from your mom and
I. We teamed up for once and got you something cool. Treat the
package carefully.”

Something cool? What could it be?

“Geez, thanks, Dad,” I say, winded. “Like –
what is it?”

“Gotta run,” Dad says, and he hangs up.

Frowning, I gaze at my phone. I’m not even
sure where to get packages here. There’s probably a post office in
or near the student union, I could check there. Or just ask Kiri.
Making a mental note to find out where my package will be waiting
for me, I go back into my room to get ready for bed.

* * *

My first class today is English 301: The Art
of the Essay. This class is going to be work, I can tell. Don’t get
me wrong, I don’t mind writing essays. But it’s not like writing
fiction, it’s not nearly as enjoyable. It seemed like my teachers
in high school were competing to see who could put the most red ink
on my pages.

Kiri is up and away before I open my eyes.
This morning I have less time to fool around. No time for
breakfast. I probably wouldn’t have been up to it anyway. My
stomach is still in knots, I think it’s growing worse. Trying not
to think about it, I make my way to the bathroom and hastily put my
contacts in before showering. After my daily dousing of perfume I’m
ready to go.

The rainless sky is a relief, but clouds
still scatter the sky and cover the sunlight. Trying to ignore the
pain in my stomach, I walk and check my schedule on my phone. Oh
good – the building isn’t too far away. I’m not sure I’m in good
enough health to walk very far, let alone eat anything.

The classroom is empty as I walk in. Once
again I choose a middle seat by a window. I’m beginning to get
stuck in my ways. I really shouldn’t. I’m too young to be this
consistent. I pull a notepad and pen from of my backpack. Leaning
back in my chair like a high schooler, I wait for class to
begin.

The second person to enter the room is a boy
– tall and muscular with dark, russet skin. His black eyes match
his hair and T-shirt. I’m surprised when he comes and sits right
beside me, his eyes never finding mine. Bizarre – the unspoken rule
is to give everyone as much space as possible until room runs
out.