more interested in which upperclassman pissed off which professor than the fact that we’re about to go to a shapeshifting class, at a secret boarding school on a private island. It’s not going to seem this strange forever, I remind myself as we bring our dishes to the bus tubs. You feel this way every time you change schools.
Sure, but most schools aren’t full of dragons and werewolves.
“So what do you have first?” Hazel asks as we step out into the entrance hall. The sunshine of the quad is streaming in through the windows, nearly blinding in its intensity.
I rummage in my bag and withdraw my schedule. “Looks like… ‘Introduction to Vampire Shifting’,” I read.
“Nice,” Hazel says, nodding approvingly. “Between you and me, the vampires are the most annoying guys at this school.”
I raise my eyebrows. “What makes you say that?”
She rolls her eyes. “They all have the dark, brooding thing going on. The girls always go for that in the movies, but in real life it’s a hell of a lot more bothersome. You wouldn’t believe what it does to your social life to never smile. Usually by the time they graduate, they’ll have figured out that being a dick isn’t a good way to make friends.”
I chuckle. “I guess I’ll have to try to avoid falling into the stereotype.”
“Please do,” Hazel agrees, laughing. “Although between you and me, there’s no harm in eating the eye candy.”
“Eye candy?”
She tips me a wink. “Wait and see.”
I’m almost more nervous about finding the classroom than about going to the class itself… almost. Thankfully, I spot Samantha hanging around in the back, monitoring the outgoing students, and approach her with the kind of frantic desperation that’s only found in a kid on her first day of school. She laughs when she sees me. “Let me guess,” she says, “you’re not sure where the classroom is.”
I nod. “How old is this building, anyway? It’s so complicated.”
“It dates back to the 1500s, believe it or not,” she replies. “It was originally used by a coterie of witches living in the Scottish Isles. Which classroom are you looking for?”
“1301,” I reply. “Huxley’s the professor.”
Samantha nods, although she briefly pulls a face that could be a wince. “I see.” My stomach drops. Coming from a faculty member, that’s not a great sign. “It will be on the ground floor,” she says, pointing in the direction I came from. “Down the hall--the odd numbers are on the left.”
“Thank you,” I say, and scurry off. I nearly have to go all the way to the end of the hall before I find the classroom, but I manage. Barely. The classroom is well lit, with a tantalizing view of the campus outside. Old wooden desks sit in neat rows, with a teacher’s podium at the front of the classroom. Behind it stands a stern-faced older gentleman dressed in the dark faculty uniform. His hair is white and a little messy, and even from a distance I can see that his face is lined with wrinkles. Weird, I think. I thought vampires were supposed to be immortal.
Most of the other students have already settled in by the time I arrive, and they look up with vague interest when the door opens. Professor Huxley glances over at me, his eyes narrowing for a moment before going wide with recognition. “Ah, Ms. Ash! It’s nice of you to join us!” He bustles up to me, not giving me a chance to get a word in edgewise. “The registrar had told me we had a new face in our class, but I must have forgotten. Too many things to think about at once!” Putting an arm around my shoulders, he turned to face the assembled students, who had all gone quiet. “Everybody, this is Amelia Ash. I’m told she’s an exceptional student, so follow her example.”
I clear my throat, already turning red. “I’m sorry,” I say, turning to the professor, “I think you have me confused with someone else.”
Professor Huxley frowns, his big, watery eyes looking both curious and half-mad. “Don’t be ridiculous. I was told we would have an Amelia Ash in this class, so if that’s not you, then who are you?”
I can feel the eyes of my classmates on me, and whatever excitement I was feeling before evaporates under their gaze. “My name is Millie Brix,” I reply, handing him my schedule. “I’m in your class this period.”
He sniffs, holding the paper at a distance and squinting at it. “Well,