on to explain that the actual name for the school is Griffin Academy, but apparently no one—not even the teachers and staff—calls it that.
The academy is named after the half-eagle, half-lion creature of legend. Wild and majestic but unpredictable, just like the magic of its students. Sounds kind of cool, I have to admit; and in spite of my misgivings, I can’t find much to dislike about this place so far. It sure beats the crappy apartment Mads and I were living in.
I hope her campus at Neptune is just as pretty. She deserves nothing but the best.
“Those were the dorms we just passed,” the driver confirms, slowing the car to a crawl and gesturing out the passenger side window.
As we continue around the curving road, he points out several more buildings and landmarks. The academy grounds are huge, stretching over a dozen acres, but a lot of that isn’t developed. Thick woods surround the school buildings, giving the place a rugged, natural feel. But the most impressive part of the academy is undoubtedly the main school building, which is so big it resembles a small castle.
Lettering in the stone over the large entryway reads Wellwood Hall. It looks like something out of a fairy tale, with gables and turrets, massive wooden doors and ornately designed windows that sparkle in the sunlight. It’s several stories tall, with towers that stretch even higher, and the gray stone facade is covered in ivy and creeping vines. A few students are out and about, lounging on the steps of the building or walking in small groups down the paths.
Wowza. Despite my efforts to remain cool, I’ve practically got my face squished up to the window as we do a slow drive by.
This place has obviously been around for a while, and I start to wonder just how old it really is. How many students have graduated from here? And how did I not even know it existed? How did I not know about Unpredictable magic at all?
There’s clearly lots to do around here. I see a building that looks like some kind of mess hall, an auditorium, and a massive looking gymnasium. Guess they don’t want their students to get bored.
The driver loops back around after giving me the tour and pulls up in front of one of the dormitories. “This is where you’ll be staying, in our first year dorm. Women on the left, men on the right.”
He helps me carry my bags up to my room. It’s an easy task, since I really don’t have a lot; I got rid of a bunch of stuff before I came here and packed up the rest in three small suitcases. I had to give up the lease on the apartment, since there’s no use paying for it while Maddy and I aren’t using it. I can’t justify the expense. Aurora managed to secure a scholarship for me too, which is amazing, but I’m not exactly rolling around in piles of cash. Mads and I will figure something out for the summer and holidays.
My driver’s nice, but it’s not his job to babysit me, so once he drops off the last of my bags to my room, he leaves.
And then… I’m on my own.
My room is a quad on the second—and top—floor of the building. Another little tidbit I picked up from the driver is that the school is small, less than three hundred students, so I’m not surprised that the dorm buildings themselves are relatively small. It has a great view, and it looks like I’m the last one to arrive, since the other three sections of the room are already covered in décor. I’m not surprised. Everyone else must have known ahead of time that they were coming here. Me? I’m a week late, and a few days ago, I didn’t even know this place existed.
Super.
I dump my bags on the empty bed. It’s sort of a relief that I didn’t have a lot to bring with me. It means there’s not a lot to unpack. I get my clothes into the closet, take care of the bedding, and put the framed photo of Mom, Maddy, and me eating ice cream on the empty desk. My small photo album goes in the desk drawer.
Mom had a large, ornate wall mirror and a few paintings, but I packed that all up and sent it to my sister, just keeping one small painting of a sailboat for myself. I hang that on the wall.