But apparently I still hadn’t, because cheerleader girl sitting next to me grabbed hold of my jacket and continued to yank on my sleeve until we were standing shoulder to shoulder, her mind hissing at mine: What’re ya doin’, mate? You better stand up so Perseus can count you!
“Perseus?” I looked at her, not realizing I’d spoken out loud until the dorky guy with the greasy hair and nerd glasses sitting right in front of me turned and thought: Shhh!
I clamped my lips shut and stared straight ahead, feeling as though that Perseus dude was looking right at me, but then, after gazing around a bit, I realized he was. But not just at me, he was pretty much looking at everyone, conducting a sort of mental roll call it seemed, which probably explained why everyone was on their best behavior.
Up until then, I’d never seen such a large group of well-behaved students, especially at an assembly like this. And I couldn’t help but hope that wouldn’t always be the case. That we didn’t all just immediately turn into angels and saints by virtue of being Here. That somewhere in the crowd was at least one potential friend who’d understand the fundamental value of goofing off.
Because if not, well, how boring would that be?
And I was so lost in the thought I didn’t even realize the music had started until cheerleader girl nudged me on the arm and pointed to where Perseus now stood center stage. An electric guitar strapped across his chest as he led us all in a rousing chorus of “You Can’t Always Get What You Want.” Dragging the song out for much longer than necessary, much longer than I remember it being, and even adding in some major guitar riffs I know for a fact I never heard on my dad’s old CDs. Gladly accepting his standing ovation the moment it was finally, mercifully over, and promptly discarding his glittering robe and revealing himself to be just another old-school hippie in faded jeans, vintage Rolling Stones concert tee, and bare feet.
You shoulda been ’ere last time when he made us sing “Get Off of My Cloud,” cheerleader girl thought, pushing down on my shoulder, signaling that it was time to sit once again, and leaning toward me when she whispered, “It went on forever. I swear, he’s just biding his time ’til Mick and Keith show up, then we’ll never see ’im again.” And when she pulled away, she smiled so brightly it made her whole body radiate with the most wonderful green-tinged glow.
“How’d you do that?” I asked, ignoring whatever telepathic message Perseus was now sending in favor of taking in her long rows of braids with the beautiful, multicolored beads dangling from the ends, her large, brown eyes, full pink lips, and dark skin. Seeing the question in her gaze, the way her head cocked to the side, and further explaining when I thought: You know, glow like that? How’d you do it?
She looked at me, eyes narrowed as she took her time taking me in. Starting at my shoes and slowly working her way up to my bangs that were brushed to the side in the way I’d recently started experimenting with. Seemingly just about ready to give me the answer when the guy on my left nudged me and said, “Excuse me, but—do you mind?”
I pulled my feet in, watching as he glided past my knees, down the stairs, and onto the stage where he stood beside Perseus. Beaming into the crowd as though he’d just accomplished something majorly important and big, though I couldn’t, for the life of me, even begin to guess what that might’ve possibly been.
And when the dorky guy in front of me made his way down too, I was surprised to see him greeted by a series of cheers and claps and even a couple wolf whistles along with a catcall or two. Then, just a moment after that, cheerleader girl turned to me, placed her hand right on my knee, and in her thick British accent said, “You’re new ’ere, right?”
I nodded, even though I didn’t really need to since she only paused for a second before she was talking again.
“I can always tell. But don’t worry. Eventually all of yer questions will be answered. Every single one. But only eventually.” She eyeballed me again, adding, “And not ’til yer ready.” And before I could even respond, she was gone.
That radiant glow practically drifting behind her as she made her way down the stairs and onto the stage, smiling and waving at those of us still left sitting in the stands. Her gaze meeting mine and holding for a moment as she thought: Just chill. The right person will find you and show you the way. And then she turned toward dorky guy and whispered in his ear.
I gazed all around, wondering just exactly who that right person might be. Were they on the stage? In the stands? Or maybe even somewhere else entirely? And how did those people standing on the stage even know it was their turn to head down? I mean, it’s not like I’d heard any summoning-type thoughts or any long list of names shouted out. Somehow, it just seemed as though everyone knew exactly where to go, when to go there, and what to do once they arrived.
Everyone seemed to know just exactly what was going on—and just exactly what it meant.
Everyone had a purpose.
Everyone but me.
To me, it all just seemed like a confusingly random, completely unrelated string of events.
But then, after watching a little bit longer, I realized that it might not be nearly as random as it first seemed, because everyone on that stage shared one thing in common.
One majorly big thing that the rest of us lacked.
They were all glowing.
Their bodies radiating the most beautiful, shimmering, deep green glow.
While the rest of us left sitting in the stands were made up of the varying shades of the ghostly pale spectrum.
I held my hands out before me and examined them closely just to make sure I wasn’t missing something. But despite seeing a manicure desperately in need of a do-over, it was pretty much business as usual. Slim fingers, small knuckles, a freckle or two, but no glow in sight, not even a hint.
Once the stage was pretty much full, everyone around me stood in applause. And not wanting to appear totally clueless, I rose along with them. Jumping to my feet and covertly readjusting my blazer and smoothing my skirt, it wasn’t long before it was over and I was merging along with the crowd once again, directing my question at anyone who might be kind enough to answer when I called out, “So—where to now?”
Hoping someone might be willing to pitch in and help out a newbie in need—give a little push in the right direction, or even the general direction would do—since I was beginning to feel even more clueless than when I first arrived at this place. And so far, nothing I’d seen resembled anything school-like, nor did it make the least bit of sense.
“We go to our assigned place, and you go to your assigned place,” the guy before me said, glancing over his shoulder long enough to tack on a not-so-polite-sounding “Where else?” that immediately made my cheeks flush bright pink and my lips clamp tightly shut.
I took a deep breath (and no, I no longer had to breathe, but some habits really do die hard) and did my best to keep to myself and just shuffle along with the rest of them. My mind spinning with questions, wondering: Where the heck were we going—why was everyone acting so quiet and obedient—not to mention, just exactly where were these supposed friends my parents swore I’d find—the ones with common interests—the ones who liked to goof off and have a good time?
And the more I looked around, the more convinced I became that as far as schools went, this had to be the weirdest one of all.