Page 3 of The Last Vampire
“I’m sure there’s Wi-Fi.”
“I don’t see any networks.”
The front doors slam shut with aBOOMthat reverberates like an explosion, cutting off every conversation.
“Hello to Huntington’s founding class! Welcome to your new home.”
Red stands in front of the unlit fireplace, and she’s easily the tallest person here. “I am Director Minaro, and I want to start by congratulating you on beating the odds and forming part of this special academy.”
Our classmates break into polite applause, but I don’t join them. Salma’s and my acceptance wasn’t earned; it was negotiated.
Minaro looks right at me like she’s thinking the same thing, and I turn to see if Sal notices. But she’s still scanning for networks.
“Hold on to your good cheer,” says the director, her gaze drifting across the room, “because you will like me less when you hear this next part.”
Now Salma looks up, and we trade bemused expressions.
“I am sorry to report that we are having problems getting cellular service and a Wi-Fi connection installed.”
“I knew it!”Salma cries out, stomping one of her heavy combat boots on the floor. She’s not the only one—a rush of reactions gusts through the place like an angry gale.
“You’re joking!”
“I’m not staying here.”
“Screw this—”
“Settle down,” says Minaro, her voice deepening with authority. She waits for everyone to quiet before continuing. “We have maintenance crews coming to work on the issue. Yet until it is resolved, you will have to use the landlines by the administrative offices to reach your parents. Now, if you will open your packets, you will find your room location, your class schedule, and a map, among other things. You have also been provided with a calendar that marks every vacation, including a weeklong break for Thanksgiving, three weeks for the winter holidays, and one week in the spring. We now inviteyou to visit your rooms, deposit your things, and report to the dining hall for dinner promptly at sixPM—wearing your uniforms.”
There’s something strange about the way this woman talks. Like she’s only studied books about social interactions but never actually socialized. The rustling of papers surrounds me, and I look at my phone screen to see that it’s already 5:15PM.
“A word of warning.”
Minaro’s voice is low, yet every sound in the hall cuts out when she speaks.
“There are clearly marked parts of the school that are still under construction and considered unsafe.” Her dark eyes comb across us like she’s rooting out the troublemakers. “I want to remind you that anyone who ventures beyond these roped-off areas will beexpelled—no matter why you did it or who your parents are.”
She looks at me again, and now I’m sure I’m not imagining her distaste.
BANG!
I gasp, along with many others, as something heavy and metallic hits the front door. It sounds like someone is knocking.
Minaro goes over to open the door, and when she steps back, in walks a tall guy with a curly fade and hooded eyes. Judging by his broad shoulders and letterman jacket, he looks like an athlete.
I turn to Salma to see what she thinks, but she’s already ripping into her envelope. “Tower Three, penthouse,” she reads on the first page of her welcome packet. “And you?”
“Penthouse?” I arch my eyebrows. “Sounds fancy.”
Nerves flutter in my belly, and my fingers fumble as I unseal my envelope. This is the part I’ve been the most worried about—not only am I going to be living at a school far from my city and all of civilization, but I’ll be sharing the experience with an absolute stranger. The application form specifically said that rooms would be randomly assigned, and they didn’t take requests.
I inhale deeply as I pull out my packet, and Salma leans over my shoulder as I read the bold print:
TOWER 3, PENTHOUSE
Our stunned gazes meet.
“Damn,” says Salma. “They really wanted to get rid of Tía Viv.”
