10
Arrival
Roman Jackson had not expected to fly on an airplane ever in his life, let alone twice in one day. It was only the one trip so far—from Birmingham to Jackson Hole—but changing planes in Denver had technically put the flight count at two. By the standards of anyone Roman had ever met in his life, he was now officially well-traveled. Anything else the summer might bring was already just icing on the cake, and he wasn’t even at the school yet.
Miss Williams had sent a limousine to drive him into Birmingham, launching Marquon into a jealous fit, but Roman had been spared another beating because his mother had gotten up early to see him off. She had said it was the least she could do, given what his stipend would mean to the family.
Her proud dotings didn’t make Marquon any friendlier, but Roman didn’t care. He had finally done something to make his mother happy, and nothing was going to spoil that for him. She had even bought him a new set of colored pencils as a going-away present, a simple gesture that had made him tear up with gratitude. Gifts were not even guaranteed on birthdays in Roman’s family.
After she had hugged him good-bye, the limousine driver—a tall, white man who looked to Roman like he was wearing a red-checkered lumberjack shirt over his suit—had picked up Roman’s second-hand duffel and threadbare backpack and placed them both gently in the car as though they were a wealthy man’s luggage. Roman had enjoyed that immensely.
At the airport in Birmingham, the driver had stayed with him until Miss Williams had appeared to supervise the next leg of the journey, as though Roman were some kind of precious cargo—an attaché case, perhaps, full of diamonds and handcuffed to a government agent, to be escorted across the country by personal courier.
But Roman wasn’t embarrassed by the attention. He was relieved not to be flying by himself, and from the moment he met Miss Williams, he saw her wearing tall, golden boots, with a shimmering golden cape draped across her shoulders, as though she were his own personal superhero. He spent a lot of the trip just trying not to giggle.
When they finally arrived in Jackson Hole, it was still only mid-afternoon, and Miss Williams said they had some time to kill before the others would be landing. She led him to a small restaurant—Roman had not known there were restaurants in airports, but it made sense once he thought about it—and she surprised him by telling him to order anything he wanted. He asked whether he might just have a small order of fries and a drink, if that wasn’t too much trouble.
Miss Williams explained that the money she was offering to spend on him was not her own money, that it had been given to her by her employer to pay for meals on the trip, and that if she didn’t use it, she would have to return it, so Roman’s efforts to save it could not benefit her, personally, in any way.
When he suggested she could just keep the money and pretend they had spent it, she then explained, in substantial detail, the specific ins and outs of corporate expense accounts and the overarching importance of receipts, at which point he warmed up to the situation considerably. He finally ordered two cheeseburgers, a large fries, a side of biscuits, a side of hash browns, a soda, and a milkshake, ingesting so much of it at once that he ended up feeling as though he might never eat again. (But he squirreled the biscuits away in his backpack anyway, just in case.)
The last bit of the afternoon passed by in a hazy bliss of fullness, the likes of which he had never before experienced in all of his eleven years on this Earth, thereby leaving him in a wonderful mood, despite the long day of traveling, and more than ready to greet his fellow students when they finally arrived.
• • •
Daniel flew in on a nonstop flight from Los Angeles. He wasn’t sure how he felt about being away for the summer, having only agreed to it upon his mother’s gentle insistence, but the mountain view was already lifting his spirits, and the Jackson Hole airport made him feel as though the plane had accidentally landed at a five-star ski resort.
The terminal was inspiring “Billionaire” by Travie McCoy on replay, and it was all he could do not to strut to the beat. His favorite six-string and bass guitars were slung across his back in a double bag, and he carried a small, portable amp in his hand. The song in his head only turned up the volume when he was greeted by a woman carrying a pre-printed sign that said “Daniel Walker.”
“Daniel!” she exclaimed as soon as she saw him. “You look just like your photograph. I’m Christina Williams, but you may call me Christina, and this here is Romario Jackson—”
“Roman,” the boy said quickly.
“Oh, yes. Yes, of course. I’m sorry, Roman. This is Roman Jackson, who will be one of your fellow students at the ICIC.”
“Hey,” Daniel said, feeling a little awkward.
“’Sup,” Roman replied.
“I apologize, boys, but we need to hurry. Another student will be arriving soon at the other end of the concourse. If you’ll follow me?”
“Sure,” Daniel replied. Roman said nothing, just falling into step behind her.
In truth, Roman was trying not to stare at the new kid, who had a rainbow of light cascading over him like some kind of perpetual cosmic waterfall. Roman found himself even more grateful for the new colored pencils, but he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to capture on paper what he was seeing around this blond-haired California surfer. He kept his head down, staring at the floor, but flashes of light sparkled in the corner of his eye whenever Daniel’s feet came into view.
Daniel, for his part, was equally intrigued by this small boy who refused to look at him. It wasn’t just that the kid was so young; it was the subtle way he would dart his eyes in tiny little glances when he thought no one was looking. The lyrics to OneRepublic’s “Secrets” played in Daniel’s head—a mellow song, its rhythm fitting the late afternoon sunshine—and Daniel let its melody carry his mind away, content to let the evening unfold in its own time.
The airport wasn’t especially large, and it wasn’t long before they were standing at another gate, a new pre-printed sign having been produced from Miss Williams’ briefcase, this one with letters that spelled out “Samantha Prescott.” They waited for a few minutes, Daniel nodding his head along with “Secrets” and Roman stealing glances from time to time at Daniel’s living, shifting raiment of color, until the door finally opened and people started filing in off the tarmac.
After several business people came and went, along with a mother carrying an infant in a travel seat and then a small group of twenty-somethings who looked to be on vacation together, Miss Williams called out, “Samantha,” and waved at a teenage girl who appeared to be about Daniel’s age.
She was wearing faded jeans over what looked like a very heavy pair of motorcycle boots, a black T-shirt emblazoned across the chest with a Batman logo, and a silver ear cuff in each ear. Her backpack was slung over one shoulder—a black leather bag with studs that looked like rivets. The girl didn’t walk as much as she sauntered, and suddenly the dystopian lyrics of “Radioactive” by Imagine Dragons were blaring in Daniel’s head.
Daniel raised one eyebrow and tried not to smile as she approached them, imagining slow motion strides and smoke effects, the blue streaks in her hair being lifted from below by a high-speed fan, as though she were a model in a music video—assuming the model looked like she was ready to beat someone up.
Note to self, he thought, this is not the girl to cross.
“Welcome, Samantha,” Miss Williams was saying. “I’m Christina Williams. We’re so pleased you could come spend the summer with us.”
“Thanks,” was all the girl said, dropping her bag at her feet and shaking the woman’s hand.
Roman eyed her cautiously, but all he saw around her were a scattering of small, white flames, whizzing around her so fast that they left light trails in their wake. In the first instant, he had been reminded of Marquon’s bees, and he had taken an involuntary step away from her, but he saw almost immediately that these were not angry, red bees. They were just lights, flying in regular patterns, several of them crossing each other, but never colliding.
“You OK?” Sam asked him, having seen his reaction. “Don’t worry. I don’t bite.” She said this with a hint of a grin, and Roman decided that he liked her.
“I like your hair,” Roman said. “The blue, I mean. It’s cool.”
“Thank you,” she replied, smiling even more warmly.
“I’m Roman.”
“Roman,” she said. “Like the Coliseum. That’s easy enough. I’m Sam.” She reached out and shook his hand without seeming to think about it, as though she came from a world in which teenagers shook hands on a regular basis.
“And you are…?” she asked, turning to Daniel, who finally allowed himself to smile a little at her “Radioactive” theme song, trusting that the grin would be taken as nothing more than an attempt to be friendly.
“Daniel,” he replied.
“OK then,” she said, cocking her head a bit to one side and staring at him thoughtfully. “Daniel. Like Daniel in the lion’s den. Got it.” But she didn’t offer to shake hands, both of hers remaining firmly planted on her hips, and Daniel wondered vaguely whether or not he should be insulted.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” he quipped, smiling to show he wasn’t taking offense.
“Sorry?” she asked.
“The lion’s den,” he explained. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“Oh, right. Sorry. Nothing personal. I have trouble remembering names sometimes, so I try to think of associations. Like, you’re lions, and Roman here is the Coliseum, which is kind of funny when you think about it. You know, lions in the Coliseum.”
“Yeah, I get it,” Daniel answered. He really wasn’t sure what to make of this girl at all. She was definitely different.
“You can make one up about me if you want.”
“Pretty sure I can remember ‘Sam,’” he replied. He realized suddenly that he might be insulting her, since she had just admitted she couldn’t remember ‘Daniel’ without a catchphrase, but she only shrugged.
“Suit yourself,” she said. “How much time do we have before the next arrival?”
This last was addressed to Miss Williams, who smiled again.
“Seventeen minutes, according to the monitor.”
“Great,” Sam said, snatching up the bag that she had dropped on the floor and hoisting it back over her shoulder. “’Cause I need to use the bathroom.”
• • •
Fifteen minutes later, the gathering crew had migrated to yet another gate, and now Miss Williams was holding up a sign that said “Mackenzie Gray.”
The girl who emerged through the door this time was a bit taller than Sam, her slim but well-muscled torso clearly defined beneath a tight, brown T-shirt. Her blond hair was tied up in a simple ponytail, and her blue eyes narrowed in on their group immediately. She strode toward them with quick, purposeful strides.
“Mackenzie Gray, reporting for duty, ma’am,” she said, standing stiffly before Miss Williams.
“Mackenzie,” Miss Williams replied. “I’m very pleased to meet you. I’m Christina Williams, as you have obviously deduced. But there’s no need for formality here. You may call me Christina, and these are some of your classmates for the summer: Sam, Daniel, and Roman.”
Mackenzie nodded briefly at each of them in turn, repeating their names one by one.
“Sam. Daniel. Roman.”
“Reporting for duty?” Sam said, raising an eyebrow. “Really? We’re not in the military, Private Benjamin.”
“My name isn’t Benjamin,” Mackenzie replied neutrally. She had met enough new people in her life to recognize a personality test when she saw one, and she saw this one coming from a mile away. “It’s Gray. Mackenzie Gray.”
“It’s from a movie,” Sam replied. If she was expecting a comeback, it never arrived.
“Is it a good movie? I love movies.” Her voice was all innocence and sunshine, but something in her eyes said test me all you want, little girl—I eat civilians for breakfast.
Sam didn’t answer her, so Mackenzie held her gaze a moment longer and then moved on to Daniel.
“Hi,” Mackenzie tried.
But Daniel was tongue-tied. It wasn’t that she was beautiful, although she was. It was that she looked like she knew how to break at least seven different bones in his body before he could move a muscle. The lyrics of “Fighter” by Christina Aguilera came to mind, and he had the distinct feeling that she might head-butt him to the floor at any moment, despite her calm demeanor.
He nodded, acknowledging her greeting, but he didn’t say a word.
“OK,” she said, drawing the word out so that it sounded more like, “Ohhhhh kaaaaay.”
“How about you, Roman?” she asked, moving on down the line. “Looks like I could use a friend around here. You want to be my friend?”
Roman nodded vigorously. From the moment she had walked through the door, Roman had been mesmerized. In his mind’s eye, he saw her skeleton, every bone in her body glowing with soft, white light, but that skeleton stood within a giant golden bear with its own golden skeleton, standing on its hind legs to mimic her posture, its head towering above her, every one of its huge golden bones tied to her own, as though she were some kind of cosmic puppeteer.
When she walked, the bear walked. When she spoke, the bear spoke, mirroring her movements. Bears could be protective, or terrifyingly dangerous, depending on whether they considered you a friend or an enemy. Roman absolutely, definitely, no doubt about it, wanted to be her friend.
“Good. We’re friends then.”
Roman visibly sighed in relief.
So, Mackenzie thought, the girl’s going to be a challenge, but I know how to handle sarcasm. Eventually, if I can’t befriend her, I’ll shut her out. Her choice. That Daniel guy is shy, but that’s good. The shy ones always warm up to kindness. Roman will be a good ally. I’ll look out for the kid, and Daniel will end up in my camp. Not bad for the first few minutes.
• • •
Twenty-six minutes later, Kaitlyn Wright flew in from Detroit.
She had hardly been able to contain her enthusiasm throughout the entire journey, having ensured before she left that her grandmother was settled and happy in their new home. She had hesitated at the last moment, hugging Grandma Maggie at least three times while the driver waited politely, but her grandmother had finally held her at arm’s length and looked her in the eye, saying, “Go live your life, Kitten. I’ll be fine here. You don’t need to worry about me anymore. Go enjoy being young for once. It will be a wonderful summer. You’ll see.”
So Kaitlyn had hugged her one more time for good measure and then slid into the limousine, closed her eyes for half a minute, and ended up sleeping all the way to the airport, the weight of adult responsibility finally lifted from her shoulders.
By the time she had boarded the plane, however, her excitement had once again reached full throttle, and she had chatted all of her airborne neighbors up a storm. When she finally landed in Jackson Hole, she had so many people laughing with her and waving good-bye that the entire ICIC team collectively overlooked her until she bounced right up to their seats, throwing her arms around Miss Williams without any warning whatsoever.
“Well, hello there, Kaitlyn!” Miss Williams said, laughing, and she hugged Kaitlyn back just as warmly until the girl finally let go.
“Hi!” Kaitlyn giggled at Miss Williams and then looked around at the others.
“These are your classmates—”
“Hi!” she said again, waving generally to them all without waiting for names.
Without even realizing what he was doing, Daniel was already rising to his feet.
“I’m Daniel,” he said, and then he paused awkwardly. He thought he might have been about to hug her himself, as though he had known her his whole life, which was not like him at all. Confused, he just stood there, but Kaitlyn’s smile never wavered.
“Hello, Daniel,” she said easily.
“Smooth move, Romeo,” Sam muttered. Roman shot a reflexive glare at her but soon realized that the taunt was aimed at Daniel, not at him.
Daniel frowned, realizing he had just done this horribly inept thing in front of everyone and having no idea how to fix it, when Kaitlyn herself came to his rescue.
“Want to carry my bag for me?” she asked. She was wearing jeans and sneakers and a pretty, white blouse, but her backpack practically exploded with color, tie-dyed in broad swirls of yellow and green and blue and purple, although how anyone had tie-dyed a backpack he had no idea.
“Sure,” he said, grateful to have something slightly less awkward to do than just standing there helplessly and listening to Joe Cocker’s “You Are So Beautiful” playing in the background of his awareness. He took her backpack in one hand, slinging it over his shoulder, and then picked up his guitar bag, slinging it over the other shoulder, making sure he would still be able to carry the portable amp.
Sam rolled her eyes, reaching past him to shake Kaitlyn’s hand.
“Sam,” she said.
“Kaitlyn!” Kaitlyn replied happily.
“I’m Mackenzie.” Mackenzie smiled at her, and Kaitlyn smiled back. “And this is Roman.” Mackenzie winked at Roman when she said it, making him blush a little.
“Hi,” Roman said.
“Hi, Roman!”
Roman couldn’t help but stare as tiny champagne bubbles rose gently from the new girl’s hair, floating delicately into the concourse. As each new bubble lifted away, another formed in its place, a few more steadily coalescing and then lifting off from her neck and shoulders, and others sliding all the way up her arms from her fingertips, now that he was really watching. In fact, tiny champagne bubbles seemed to appear everywhere, leaving shimmering, gossamer tracks all over her skin. It was all he could do not to reach out and try to catch one in his hands.
• • •
Rush’s flight was the last to come in. He arrived at 8:16 p.m. and disembarked just a few minutes later, an HRT Alpha: Year One T-shirt on his back and a scowl permanently affixed to his face. When Christina Williams introduced herself, he only nodded, refusing to speak.
“These are your classmates, Ashton: Roman, Daniel, Sam, Mackenzie, and Kaitlyn.”
“My name is ‘Rush,’” was all he said in reply.
“Of course,” she agreed easily. If the nickname surprised her, she didn’t show it in the slightest. “Rush. My apologies.”
He nodded, somewhat appeased, but the frown never left his face. After an extended silence, it became painfully obvious that he was not going to greet anyone else.
“OK then, it’s been a long day,” Miss Williams said finally. “Let’s get going. We’re meeting our driver outside with the rest of your luggage. Follow me.”
The group headed out, subdued in the wake of Rush’s open hostility—all except Kaitlyn, that is, who was still trying to be friendly.
“Hi!” she said brightly. “I’m Kaitlyn!” But Rush just stared her down until she fell back a few steps, shrugging.
Daniel had never been so relieved in all his life.
He felt like Rush must look like a superhero next to him, standing easily two inches taller and a good number of well-muscled pounds heavier than his lean, musician’s frame. He was perfectly happy for Rush to ignore Kaitlyn—and anyone else he wanted to, for that matter.
As they made their way toward the exit, Roman couldn’t help but watch the newcomer. He seemed so angry, but all Roman could focus on was his suit of glorious silver armor, etched in delicate blue markings that glowed upon its surface as though lit from within.
He trailed back as far as their sharp-eyed caretaker would allow, watching them all walk together: racing embers of white flame; a swirling, rainbow waterfall; delicate champagne bubbles; a glowing anime hero; and a giant, golden bear, right in the middle of the group, lumbering down the concourse and towering silently above them all.
This, he thought to himself, is going to be one crazy summer.