The House of Grey- Volume 3 (21 page)

She went rigid but at the same time reacted instinctively as she grabbed onto his arm for dear life. She let out an embarrassed breath as he pulled her upright. He moved her slowly, carefully drawing her into him so she could regain her balance. She pressed right up against him. 

Adrenaline heightened his cognizance, flooding his mind and being with an overload of sensory information. He felt the beat of Taris’ pounding heart echo and reverberate within her, and sensed her strained, quickened breath and steady increase in body temperature.

“Taris, this is so unlike you.”

Surprising words. Monson did not know where they came from. “What do you mean?”

“It’s unlike you to get so ruffled. You’re usually a rock
-
a rock that spends most of its time teasing me. I wonder why that is....” His voice trailed off. 

Taris moved away from him slightly, pulling at her neck in what looked like a nervous gesture. She quickly adjusted her expression and body language, rapidly returning to the confident, bulletproof Taris Green everyone knew and loved.

Monson let her slide out of his arms and watched her adjust her top and skirt, which were now completely disheveled.  She smoothed out everything, from her clothes to her attitude.

“I’m performing later.” She forced a smile. “Make sure you’re watching.”

Taris turned on her heel, doing her little booty-shake thing that Artorius was so fond of. Monson watch her leave, thinking that maybe she was not as bulletproof as he thought.

A nagging concern touched him as she rounded the corner. Monson spoke his question aloud knowing she couldn’t hear him. “Taris, if you’re about to perform, what were you doing here?”

***

After his conversation with Taris, Monson hightailed it to the Coliseum, which looked more like the crazy confusion of a Disney stars reunion concert than a school assembly. He navigated reporters, news vans, parents and other randoms, doing his best to remain unnoticed. As he entered the hall, a quick phone call to Artorius told him where they were sitting. The school provided a student section for just such an occasion, though Monson still did not know what this particular occasion was. He breeched the ground level of the Coliseum, taking a moment to peer towards the stage and lower levels. What he saw jarred him in the most curious of ways. 

The massive auditorium was completely transformed. The platform had a large dome propped directly on top of it, like the kind at one of those outdoor amphitheaters, the ones that orchestras often used. In that same fashion, the dome sat high on the sunken floor of the Coliseum, giving off an eerie light from its concaves.  The platform was also bigger than he remembered, easily double if not triple the size of the one used at orientation so many weeks ago. Large projection screens sat to the left, right and above the half-domed space, displaying computerized art of swirling colors and shapes. The atmosphere and set looked and felt completely different from orientation. This engineering masterpiece was astonishing on a variety of levels, so much so, Monson found it difficult to process. The massive crowd was not helping either. He simply marveled at the scene.

The air buzzed with  electricity as Monson pushed against the current of excited people and found Casey and Artorius in one of the last rows.  Thankfully, they were alone and a ways off from anyone else, though the way people were filing in, Monson was sure that would change. 

“Is it just me,” asked Casey with a smirk, “or do we always seem to be waiting for you?”

Monson sat down on the opposite side of Artorius, who as always, was on his phone.

“Sorry about that. Maybe you should have come with me.”

He turned his attention to the growing crowd of students. “So, have they said anything about what’s going on?”

“Not yet,” answered Artorius without looking up from his phone. “But a bunch of the music students are getting ready to perform. I saw the guys from N’Sync 2 and Backstreet Reborn practicing moves earlier. And the Juilliard guy is apparently debuting today.”

He turned towards Casey. “What’s his name again? I always forget.” 

“Boston Timberland,” replied Casey unconcerned. “He’s SUPER annoying. I can’t stand the dude.”

“You know him?” asked Monson conversationally.

Casey nodded. “Yeah. I met him last year at Taris Green’s concert at the Gorge. He was one of her back-up dancers then, but he’s one of those people with a little talent and a lot of connections. He’s not a bad dancer from what I saw, not that I would know, but singing is a different story. When he sings it sounds like he’s murdering a chicken. Should be entertaining at least.”

Monson scratched at his head, perplexed. “They wouldn’t have stopped classes for a week, added extra security, and then gathered us all together just for some jumped-up talent show.  There’s something else going on here.”

“They’re probably announcing the court candidates for the Spring Solstice.”

Monson and Artorius leaned out from their seats to peer around Casey, who was struggling to see over his shoulder. Indigo sat down next to Casey and threw her feet up in a very unfeminine way. She was conspicuously alone, which made Monson smile. It was nice to know that Indigo was so comfortable with them.

Casey answered at once when he saw who it was. “No way, Little Harrison. It’s too early for candidates to be announced. It’s months away and besides, the School Senate hasn’t even brought the issue up.”

Indigo started to answer but almost immediately stopped herself. She glanced skyward, thinking. “You could be right, Casey. I guess I hadn’t thought of that.” She turned her gaze back towards him. “The sponsors then?”

Casey threw his arms up behind his head. “Now that’s possible. I wouldn’t be surprised if they announced the sponsors for the Spring Solstice and for the Repeaters Project.”
Monson listened intently. He was familiar with the Spring Solstice; it was some sort of dance. But what was the Repeaters Project?

Casey and Indigo watched Monson with mild interest as if they knew exactly what he was thinking.

“I got this one, guys.” Artorius spoke without looking up from his phone. “I know we’ve mentioned the dance before, but just to recap, the Spring Solstice is THE dance at Coren University. It’s kind of hard to explain if you’ve never seen it. Do you know what a ‘prom’ is, Grey?”

Monson glared at an unflinching Artorius, who was just tapping away at the web browser on his phone’s screen.

“Vaguely.”

Artorius continued. “The Spring Solstice is like a normal high school prom, a high-class function for dignitaries, the Grammys, and a rock concert all wrapped up into one. It’s the high point of Coren’s social season.”

Monson took in this new piece of information and found that he was not surprised. Rich people were really good at two things: wasting resources and blowing things out of proportion. Considering such, it made sense that Coren would take something simple, like a dance, and turn it into some sort of spectacle. At least he would not have to
-

Monson’s expression soured as a thought of alarming proportions hit him. The
Horum Vir
. The school would not force him to participate, would they?
“Relax Grey, not even you could get mixed up in this one,” said Indigo, reading his thoughts. “The students have to nominate you, then someone in the School Senate has to back you. Freshmen almost never get nominated, not even really popular ones.”

A pout so slight Monson had to wonder if she was even aware of it appeared on Indigo’s face. She slid a strand of hair behind an ear, a gesture quite similar to one of Cyann’s nervous tells.

Cyann popped to the front of his mind, her face dominating his mind’s eye like a hundred-car pile-up. He did his best to figuratively look away. She was the last person he wanted to think about. More for a severely needed distraction than a genuine desire for information. Monson asked, “What about the Repeaters Project? What’s that?”

Casey spoke up. “The Repeaters Project is a sort of rejuvenation project for the valley and older buildings on campus. The school wasn’t always the pinnacle of rich, private education and the valley hasn’t always been for the super elite. This valley has a long history, most of which I don’t know, so I can’t give you any details. However, what I can say is that every year a new project is done on the campus. That’s where the Yard, Barracks, and even this building came from. Many of the richest people in the world have kids attending this school. So they’re always trying to outdo each other.”

“Wow.” Monson propped his chin up on his fist steadying it with his knee. “I didn’t know any of that.”

“Not surprising,” answered Casey unconcerned. “You’re a scholarship student
-
”

A melodious voice easily recognized by Coren’s students sprang from the ridiculously expensive speaker system. Everyone in the hall immediately fell silent like Mr. Gatt was holding the remote control to their vocal cords.

“Good morning, students. I welcome you to this morning’s assembly and thank you for your patience in dealing with the extraordinary events of the last week. I am truly jubilant to tell you that your long wait pondering unanswered questions is at an end. We have a very exciting guest here with us, with a very exciting announcement, but before we move to that, how about we wake you all up?”

The question hung before the students, who did not understand. Mr. Gatt smiled.

“I think we are in need of a little illumination.”

He paused and shifted his weight dramatically as flames shot up from the floor. Mr. Gatt disappeared in the flash. The Coliseum broke into music. The prelude crashed into the unsuspecting students and spectators, waking the perpetually sleeping and caffeine dependent.  The snap and pop of drums rolled opposite of electric guitars, both of which coursed through tweeters and subwoofers, filling the space with a body-beating bass and tummy-turning treble, almost forcing the crowd to its feet. Trapdoors from the floor opened to reveal the rising figures of not one, but two boy bands. Apparently the years of animosity between the empires that were ‘N Sync and Backstreet Boys had finally been put to rest. 

“It is a truly joyful day for past and present teenyboppers all over America
-
no, the world!” said a barely heard Casey over the crowd. “An ‘N Sync 2/Backstreet Boys Reborn duet is a fortuitous and epic accomplishment.”

“I don’t know Case,” yelled Artorius over the roar of the crowd. “Can you really call ten people singing a single song a duet?”

Casey chuckled. “Touché, Arthur. Touché”.

***

A massive explosion of lights and color ricocheted in the halls of the Coren University’s Coliseum as Taris Green, standing among light, dancers and fog, let her hand fall as the climactic crest of her final crescendo crushed her completely captivated crowd. Her brow glistened with sweat and her chest heaved, as she panted while beaming at the crowd. She took a bow as those under her spell smothered her with applause. Monson was right there with them, whooping and hollering with everyone else. He finally understood why Taris was the
It
girl. He really did.

“Hot, huh?” yelled Casey through bellowing catcalls.

Monson nodded. “Totally hot.”

“Unbelievably hot!” added Artorius.

“She’s a total cow,” said Indigo.

“What?” answered all three boys, whipping towards Indigo.

“Are you having fun Coren?” Taris’ voice blared through a microphone that was way too loud. Indigo’s explanation for her outrageous comment sunk under the weight of hundreds, maybe thousands of answering voices. Monson marveled at the crowd and its response. It must be nice to be loved.

“Well, we aren’t done yet! Mr. Gatt, why don’t you get out here?”

On cue, Mr. Gatt came trotting up to Taris’ side, microphone in hand. He replied to her, though it was inaudible, and threw a hand around her shoulder, giving her a little squeeze.

“Taris Green, everyone!”  Mr. Gatt took a half-step back, throwing his hand out and sweeping it across his body like a product model on an infomercial.

Taris took another bow as the decibel level reached somewhere between a jackhammer and a jet engine. Laughter broke out as the pop idol gave her history teacher a booty bump and playful smile over her shoulder. She ran back towards the curtains and disappeared behind them.

The sound in the auditorium hit a new level as the excitement reached its peak. Adults and students alike were on their feet hollering their admiration and affection. It was some time before Mr. Gatt could get the crowd under control.

“Now that we have your full attention.” He almost screamed to have his voice heard over the crowd. “I’d like to introduce you all to someone.”

A wave of uncertainty made its way through the whooping holler of the massive crowd, pushing against the current of known and comfortable. Minds kicked into analytical overdrive as they started to question the identity of this mysterious visitor. Mr. Gatt smiled deviously as he noticed the perceptible change in his audience’s attitude.

“Mr. Gibson, if you would be so kind.”

This simple statement was so completely unexpected that the tension ratcheted up several degrees as the name “Gibson” came from hundreds of parted lips.