“The look you get when you meet someone who makes you feel something you maybe haven’t felt before?” She’s still smiling as she continues down the winding road.
“I think you misread whatever you saw. I spent a few hours with the guy, but nothing happened. We just had breakfast and talked. Jackson is just a friend.”
“Jackson?” she says in a concerned tone. “Jackson Novak?”
“Um, I don’t know. He never told me his last name.”
“The boy who lives down the street?”
“Yeah, a few houses down. He lives by himself. It’s weird. He said his parents took off and he’s on his own.”
She shakes her head. “Stay away from him.”
“What? Why?”
“You don’t need that kind of trouble.”
“What trouble?”
We’re in a parking lot now, and she pulls into a space and shuts the engine off.
She turns to me. “He’s a good-looking young man and I’m sure he’s very charming but you need to stay away from him. Especially now.”
“Why now?”
She turns and points straight ahead. “Because this is your home now. And he’s not welcome here.”
I look to where she’s pointing and see a dark gray building surrounded by trees. The façade is all brick, and on each side of the entrance doors are two large pillars, like the kind you see on castles with a princess hidden at the top. Tall, thin windows framed in intricately cut stone run up the length of the entrance, and beautiful stone carvings outline the massive dark wood doors.
“Wow,” I mutter, my eyes taking it in.
“Such a beautiful building,” Maria says. “Tourists come here just to see it. It was modeled after a castle in England. I cannever remember which one but I’m sure it’ll be covered in your orientation.”
I get out of the van, still gazing at the building. It’s not at all what I imagined. I thought it’d look like any other high school. Plain. Boring. Institutional. This is nothing like that. I feel like I’ve entered a different world. It even feels different. Like I don’t belong.
“Rumor?” I hear Maria say.
“Yeah, I’m coming.” I meet up with her on the sidewalk.
As we get closer to the school, I see the part of it that was hidden by the trees. It extends to the left and right of the grandiose entrance, with the same intricate detailing on the tall, thin windows that run along each side of the building. Along the roof are smaller peaks with tiny windows.
“What are those?” I ask, pointing to them.
“You mean the dormers?” Maria asks.
“They look like little houses.”
She smiles. “Let’s go inside.”
We try to open the doors, but they’re locked.
Maria frowns. “That’s a shame. I was hoping I could show you around.”
“That’s okay. It’s probably just a bunch of classrooms.”
“It is, but the common areas are beautiful. The staircase railing was hand carved.”
“I’ll see it next week. Where’s the bookstore?”
