A thought dawns on me as I observe him. “Did you want to come here, Nate?”
He narrows his eyes, confusion written on his face, but nods absentmindedly, a scoff leaving his mouth. “Of course. Both my parents graduated from Pointebreak. There was never another option. I’m hoping to follow in their footsteps,” he says proudly.
I nod my head, not wanting to pry too much yet. I can’t tip my hand on the first day. “Thanks for the help, Nate. I appreciate it.”
His face brightens with my words. “There’s a bonfire tonight as a welcome for all the new students. Wanna go with me?”
I lick my bottom lip and pull it between my teeth as I think about what James told me about not trusting people here.
It’s a school event. What’s the worst that can happen?
My lips curved into a relaxed, comfortable smile. “Sure. I’d like that.”
He grins from ear to ear. “Good. I’ll pick you up here at seven.”
I wave as he walks away and slide the key into the lock, pushing open the door to my new life. I don’t know what I expected, but what’s here is definitely not it. It’s, dare I say, stunning? I enter the room and let the door swing closed behind me as I stare at the paintings on one side and the freshly made bed. Two beds, two desks with a chair, large windows that span the length of one wall, and an armoire that fills the length of the other wall. The only thing missing is the bathroom, and I’m sure I passed that on the way to my room. I do wish there was a private bathroom, but I suppose this will make it feel more like a true college experience. The space is much bigger than I thought it would be, but I have a roommate. I’ve never had to share a room before. Even going to Dartmouth, I had a single room guaranteed. This should be interesting. I hope I like her. I can’t imagine being stuck here with a roommate I can’t stand.Please let me like her.I send a silent prayer up.
Glancing to my side, I see two boxes sitting on the bed. One has the Pointebreak emblem on it, so I assume those are my uniforms, but as I walk closer to the other box, I see it came from home. I dig a pen out of my purse and jab it through the tape, dragging it down so I can pull the box open. On top is an envelope with dad’s writing. I ignore it for a moment,not wanting to read his loving words when he couldn’t even be bothered to drop me off. I rub my hand over my chest, trying to ward off the pang of sadness that lands there as a lump forms in my burning throat.
The unread note lands on the bed, and I unpack a new pair of sheets, comforter, and pillow. I look at the bare twin sized bed and I’m thankful because I didn’t even think about bedding in my haste to pack. I glance at the letter again and sigh, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress. The kind gesture makes me warm and I pull the pillow out of the box and smash it to my chest, hugging it tight as I pick up the letter. My finger works its way under the sealed corner and I pull the note free.
Riley,
I hate how we left things. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to help you move in, but I couldn’t move these meetings. Pointebreak will be an excellent choice for you. I’m sorry it had to be this way, but you will find out soon enough why it was necessary. Make friends and study hard. I’ll see you for Christmas break. I love you.
Dad
I just wish it was a choiceImade and not a choice I had made for me. If I had wanted to come here, I might have felt a thrill of excitement, instead of the dread that settles deep in my stomach. The door clicks open and a girl around my height with brown curly hair steps through. “Oh, you’re here!” Her smile is infectious and I can’t help when my own spreads widely as I stand and offer my hand to her.
“Hi, I’m Riley Whittier.” She takes my hand and bats it away, pulling me into a hug instead. She looks so familiar but I can’t place her.
“I’m so excited to meet you, Riley.” She pushes out from the hug, holding on to my upper arms to look at my face. “I’m Ava Fedorov. Where are you from? Why did you decide to come here? What kind of music do you like?”
She fires questions at me without taking a moment to breathe between them, and I laugh. The first genuine laugh I’ve had with anyone besides Leah. Things around the house were tense, and I hardly saw dad before I left today. It’s like he was avoiding me. Leah saw me off this morning, and I tried hard not to cry when it was time to leave. A few errand tears escaped and slid down my cheeks as James pulled away from the house, but I channeled that energy as quickly as I could to prepare for today.
It’s been very emotional, and right now I am grateful to have someone to be excited and happy to be here. Her personality is bubbly and my anxiety eases for the first time since I’ve arrived.
“Um,” I try to think of the questions she asked in what order so I can answer them for her. “I’m from around here. My dad forced me to come, and I listen to anything but rap.”
Her smile fades and her brows pinch together as she mulls over my words. “He forced you to come here?” I nod. “Why?”
I attempt to give her a small smile, but miss my mark. “That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?” She stares at me as I shift my weight under her gaze, my face warming. All I have are more questions and no answers. Finally, when I can’t take the silence anymore, I change the subject. “Did you paint these?” I motion to the paintings hung around her side of the room. Her gaze follows mine and her face brightens again with a smile.
“Yes, do you like them? I can take them down if you don’t. They make me happy. Painting is the escape I have when things can become too…much. Do you know what I mean?”
I give her a small shrug and nod my head. I know what it's like to have an outlet, but I’ve never described it as when things become too much. “Yeah, makes sense. Listen, I know nothingabout Pointebreak. Will you give me the lowdown so I know what I'm walking into? My day has been…odd so far, and I would appreciate any insight. If you know, that is.”
Her smile lights her face. “You and I are gonna be good friends, Riley. Let’s get your room set up.”
FOUR
RILEY
Jesus, what did my dad sign me up for?According to what Ava has told me, this place is basically a training ground. Not her words, though. Along with academics, they teach self-defense, gun shooting, torture tactics, and anything else one might need in an unorthodox event. I guess it would have helped if I actually looked at my class schedule. That was sitting on my desk when I walked in. What the hell kind of place is this? Who would need to know half of these things to become stand-up citizens when they get out of here?
Torture tactics?What the hell am I in for? Images of ripped off toenails and waterboarding fill my mind as disgust fills me. This place isn't for me. Nope. One time at gymnastics, I broke my arm. The pain was so intense that I almost passed out, and I think I threw up. And that was when my gymnastics career ended. I was too afraid to try again.
Dad would never associate himself with people who would use torture. Mind games, sure. That’s part of politics, but never physical harm…right? I wring my hands together, struggling to wash the thoughts away.
