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“Dear OP,
Here’s a little Christmas present and a birthday present from me. I know we usually don’t do the whole present thing but I don’t know, I guess things could’ve ended better before the break…But regardless of that, I hope you enjoy it. If you don’t remember, my reference photo was from when Sampson got a camera for Christmas last year and brought it back to school. Somehow, this was the only good picture we took with everyone looking at the camera! I know it’s not perfect since I’m pretty rusty on the whole painting thing, and I was kind of in a rush since I didn’t want my dad to see it before he came back from Houston. But I hope you enjoy it and put it somewhere special. By the time this gets to you, I’ll be in Myrtle Beach visiting family, so I’ll see you in two weeks. Merry Christmas and happy birthday of course! I hope adulthood treats you better than most of the adults I know.
Lots of Love,
--Teddy Dodgerson
P.s, I didn’t give anything to the rest of the guys, so it’d be great if you didn’t mention it to them :)”
Opuntia read Teddy’s card twice before opening its accompanying package, kicking herself since she pretty much already knew what his gift would be. As Teddy had mentioned in the card, she was not expecting a gift. So, when Diana had called her downstairs waving a package in her face she was very taken aback. For a wild moment, she even thought it could be the ender’s doing, but she very quickly came to her senses.
The parcel was thin, a rectangle the size of a typical writing slate. As she ripped off the plain brown paper it revealed exactly what she had been expecting but was no less amazed. Her own face grinned back at her, painted with black and white oil paints on a miniature canvas. There were the five of them, her, Teddy, Sampson, Wilfred and Cas. Of course, Eng had not gotten to the school yet, so he was absent. The state-of-the-art camera had been perched on a jutting brick from the wall, and they all posed around it, huddled with their arms thrown around each other and smiles plastered on. It definitely seemed a lot easier to smile back then, Opuntia thought grimly.
She studied them all closely in the painting. Teddy hadn’t captured everything perfectly, of course, Wilfred seemed a bit too skinny, Sampson’s freckles were off and even her own nose wasn’t that straight in real life. It wasn’t perfectly realistic, but she didn’t think it was supposed to be. She studied every brushstroke, taken aback by the talent of her best friend. She supposed that like her, he had just moved to practice his art in secret once he started at Arison.
It was hard to imagine a time when she ever looked that carefree. She stood centre right of the image, in between Teddy and Sampson and her hair blowing in her face from the winter wind. But she didn’t seem to mind. Back then, the only thing that troubled her was school work and possibly the threat of her future, but she would rather take that any day over what she laid awake at night over now. It was so long removed that it felt like another time, another person. That was not her standing in that painting, those were not her friends. They never had fights, they never resorted to heavy silences and secrets. It was so hard for her to even fathom a world before the past few months before she almost got blown up, before Michael got expelled, before a cult was formed, before the Tempests were ruined, before that goddamned message was written on the floor. But it did exist, and Opuntia wished more than nearly anything that she could go back to it. She wished to be whisked away back in time, before her journey at Arison had even begun, to try and rewrite everything.
169Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2ThFfRj6WF
169Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWTeJhPAWr5
Her hands were planted firmly on her knees and her legs were swinging nervously off of a dark wooden chair cushioned with emerald velvet. Her eyes were drifting down at her new uniform, so freshly ironed it still felt stiff. Only a few feet in front of her she could hear her father and her new headmaster deep in a conversation where she was the topic, but neither of them paid any attention to her. They were in her father’s office, one she had not seen before this moment since she had never set foot in the school. Bookshelves lined the walls with authors Opuntia would soon come to be acquainted with, and heavy curtains draped the condensation windows, wet from the pouring rain outside. Placed in a corner were three distinct photos: one of her father’s own graduation from Arison, posing with Teddy’s father and a short and plump boy that looked eerily like the other short and plump man standing in front of her. The second was a photograph of him and her mother on their wedding day, one of the only times she had seen a picture with a smile on his face. The third was an outdated family portrait, with a baby Holly and preschool-aged Opuntia in their mother’s lap. Among them was also his bachelor’s and master’s degree in English from Yale University.
“She’s not taking physical education classes,” Mordred stated staunchly, and Redwood obliged but did mumble something about it being mandatory for all other students.
“She does, however, need one language credit as part of the curriculum,” Mordred continued, pointing at the last empty square on her schedule chart.
“Naturally,” Redwood replied, still not taking the time to look up at Opuntia. “Should I put her down for Latin or French?”
“Whatever, it doesn’t matter,”
Opuntia wanted to argue that it did matter since this would be a class she would be taking for the next six years, but she was too afraid to speak out on her first day, especially around someone like her father and his esteemed coworker. She knew she didn’t want to embarrass him.
Redwood scribbled something down on her schedule that she couldn’t see and then placed it in a brand new file with her name on it.
The two of them continued to talk about dull school policies and arrangements that obviously didn’t concern her, and still, they pretended to act like she was simply just a paperweight on the desk, with no importance whatsoever. Still bridled full of anxiety for her first day and curiosity for this new place, she continued to look around some more, specifically at the heaps of papers Mordred kept on his desk. There was a list of staff and their teaching schedules, where she first saw the names of her future teachers such as Dr. Wozniak and Mr. Drownreef. There was a directory for a list of universities and their admissions addresses. But what caught Opuntia’s attention the most was a chart filled to the brim with names, two per row followed by a room number. This was what she was looking for. Ever since she got here she was desperate to find the one person she knew and actually liked: Teddy. She squinted as hard as she could, scanning down the list in search of her friend’s name. This in turn made her appear as if she had to sneeze, which thankfully Mordred and Redwood did not take notice of. Finally, she spotted it. It was room 351, which, if she recalled correctly, was only a little ways away from her own room. Now all she had to do was somehow escape this boring office and try to remember how to get to the dorms without getting lost.
She waited for what seemed like eons, kicking her feet and staying silent, her Mary Jane shoes barely brushing the floor. She kept glancing around at the clock, to see just how long she had spent in there. Mordred eventually followed her gaze.
“The ceremony starts in an hour, Norman,” he pointed out, abruptly rising from his chair. He then turned to his daughter for the first time all morning.
“I expect you down at the church house at exactly four o'clock, is that understood?”
“Yes father,” she replied, breathing a sigh of relief at finally being free.
“Alright. Well, I’m sure you have lots of unpacking to do.” Was all he had left to say, before leaving his office right behind him.
Opuntia immediately raced to find Teddy’s room, taking off at a fast walk down the cold stone corridors. Unfortunately, she didn’t exactly know where she was going yet, and instead found herself at the complete other side of the school. She could already see more students beginning to pour in, all carrying trunks and dressed in neat collared shirts and ties. She didn’t really pay much attention to them at first, but the longer she walked alone, the more she could feel eyes on her. Boys of all ages, not a girl in sight for her to talk to for the next six years. It had only just set in how much different her life was going to be, just from the looks alone. It felt like she was wearing a vibrantly coloured costume, or was sporting a ridiculous hairstyle, but no, she was simply existing. As she climbed up yet another staircase to God knows where this would only become more apparent.
“Porco Cane, I do not believe this,” It was Michael Deangelo. Before he started to grease his hair back and before he went practically insane. He had his arms crossed, blocking her from the top of the stairs and was looking her up and down with an unpleasant look on his tanned face. Behind him, a tiny boy with eyes as round as saucers and a golden crucifix was peeking over his shoulder.
“It’s really true, eh? The princess of Arison has somehow bargained her way in here. I can’t say I’m surprised, to be honest.”
Opuntia’s face immediately tightened to a scowl as she clenched her fists by her sides. She had nearly forgotten that Michael was also attending Arison, and even though she thought the school was big, apparently it was not big enough to keep him away from her.
“But-- I thought this was an all-boys school! And a catholic one at that,” The other boy was stuttering, completely scandalized.
Opuntia was taken aback at how shocked this boy seemed to be over the opposite gender setting foot in Arison, but for once she didn’t want to engage. She just wanted to find her actual friend and get over her past feud over Michael going to Arison.
“I was starting to wonder how you could sneak your way in here, Opuntia,” Michael continued, a cocky smirk growing on his baby face. “I didn’t really think you could just get in outright. Hell, I just figured you would cut off all your hair, and then you’d practically look like a boy.”
The other boy gasped at these words, and Opuntia’s face immediately began to grow red. She was a fiery ball of emotions, she always was, just back then she had a much harder time compressing them all down. She needed to fight back, and she knew if she didn’t say something, it would come out of her in the form of violence.
“Oh, yeah, I must be a man, Michael. I mean, how else would I be able to kick you halfway across the asphalt in fifth grade?”
She didn’t take pleasure in seeing Michael grow from prideful to dumbfounded in a split second, but she did feel herself calm a little after saying what was necessary. She turned away from the two Arison students and made her way back down the stairs, figuring that was probably not the way to the dorms, anyway. The only thing Michael could reply was,
“Well, whatever, smart-mouth, it’ll take more than a last name to survive here. Have fun suffering!”
Opuntia just shook her head, once again trying her best to avoid the gawks from others that were only increasing by the minute. She tried another staircase and was certain that it was the right one this time. Down another hallway, she went, and she was feet away from her destination when…
“I’m sorry, but what do you think you’re doing here? You must be confused.” A grating, high-pitched voice was calling out to whom she assumed was her since no one else was in the corridor except her. She sighed and turned around to find another boy, this time with thick tortoise shell spectacles and scraggly red hair peering at her, one hand on the doorknob to his room and the other clutching 3 textbooks that were slowly slipping from his grasp.
“I’m a first-year,” Opuntia started to say, but she already knew what he meant before he opened his spit-spraying mouth again.
“Like I said, there’s probably been a mistake. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, maybe you just have a naturally masculine name and didn’t know any better but you can’t be here. It’s an all-boys school.”
She was sure this boy was also twelve years old, and yet he was talking down to her as if she was a baby. Not even a baby, but an ant that he couldn’t accept was on the same level of intelligence as him.
“There isn’t a mistake,” she reassured him. She could’ve gone into the whole history of why exactly she was there, Oswald’s rule and her family legacy, but he wouldn’t even let her finish.
“Well, I’m sorry but my father went to school here, and so did his father and there have never been any girls here. Ever. So unless you just have really long hair and are wearing a kilt, which is out of the dress code might I add, I’m going to have to report you to headmaster, um, headmaster…”
“Redwood?” Opuntia suggested, already becoming familiar with the staff.
“Yes, headmaster Redwood. I really--” But he was cut off by another voice, one she would come to know extremely well over the next few years.
“Boy, oh boy,” it rang out sarcastically as it grew closer from down the hall. “If that’s what everyone sounds like at this school, I might as well blow my brains out now before they have to lobotomize me.” A rosy, freckled face poking out from blonde curls was lugging a behemoth-sized suitcase to his room. He had spotted the ginger boy first, who was currently looking at him coldly, but then his eyes locked with Opuntia, and he stopped in his tracks immediately, his bag swinging to a halt.
“If my eyes don’t deceive me, I do believe I’m looking at a girl right now,” he said, his mouth slightly agape. Opuntia raised her eyebrows at him, already finding him a little overdramatic. Everyone here, so far, was acting overdramatic.
“That’s exactly what I was talking about before you rudely butt in,” the ginger boy tried to explain.
“Look,” Opuntia said, growing frustrated with everyone she had met that day. “I am supposed to be here. My father went to Arison too, you can go and ask him about it if you have any more questions. His office is right at the front.” She wasn’t even trying to snap back, she was just tired of all the accusations, questions, and behaviour. This seemed to shut the first boy up, who turned on his heels and immediately began marching in the direction of her father’s office. She sighed and continued walking to Teddy’s room, but to her dismay, the blond was still not leaving her alone.
“And here I thought I was going to be living as a monk for the next six years. Boy, am I lucky…very lucky.” Opuntia ignored him, finally feeling elated when she reached room 351. The blond, however, was still right behind her.
“What are you doing?” She asked him, annoyed.
“What, this is my room!” He said earnestly, then, his eyes lit up. “Wait, is this your room? Are you my roommate?”
“No!” she cried, disgust taking over her. The door suddenly opened to reveal, at last, her best friend standing there, now also in his uniform, and his room half unpacked. At this point in time, he was still short and scrawny, even shorter than Sampson, which was baffling for Opuntia to think about in the future.
“OP!” He shouted, before immediately going to hug her. She beamed, finally feeling comforted by the fact that she was not alone there. There was one person who would not be ridiculing her.
“I still can’t believe you’re coming here,” he told her after letting go of her. “I really thought we’d never see each other again!”
“Yeah,” said Opuntia, already second-guessing herself on whether it was the right idea to go to Arison. Teddy then noticed the other boy, who was now plopping his giant suitcase on the floor.
“Hi! You must be my roommate, right? It’s nice to meet you, what’s your name?”
“The name is Sampson Laurier,” Sampson said with enforced swagger, brushing the hair from his face before shaking Teddy’s hand. “But don’t call me Sam, and definitely don’t call me Sammy because one day I will be Mr. Laurier of the Laurier steel industries, and unless you want a faulty Ford, I’d recommend staying on my good side.” he winked at them.
Opuntia and Teddy just looked at each other, disgruntled at ‘Sampson’s’ grand introduction.
“So should we start calling you Mr. Laurier now or…” Teddy suggested with a chuckle.
“I mean if you really want to, knock your socks off, but for now Sampson is just fine,” Sampson responded before sprawling out on the bare mattress of his bed.
“But tell me more about yourselves, you two already seem well acquainted,” he prompted them.
“I’m Teddy Dodgerson,” Teddy grinned, continuing to unfold his clothes and hang them in the wardrobe.
“I’m Opuntia…Arison,” Opuntia said slowly, already knowing what kind of reaction this would derive from Sampson. Realization and curiosity dawned on his face at that moment.
“Wow, so you’re the heiress of the school? Damn, and I thought being a steel heir was impressive. Well, Opteunia, I guess I’ll have to stick with you if I want to survive here.” He placed his hands behind his head and leaned against the back of the bed frame, looking over at her mischievously.
“It’s Oh-poon- tea-ah,” she corrected him, choosing to ignore the other stuff he had said.
“What did I say?”
“I don’t know, something not right,”
“Well, I’ll just call you Arison then, easy to remember.”
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Opuntia attended the opening ceremony from the sidelines and watched the long row of first-year boys as they robotically recited the promises set out before them, to remain proper students and strive for academic excellence. In that crowd were her future friends, enemies, and everything in between but right now they were just a sea of unknown possibilities that she didn’t want to look at head-on. Her father stood next to her, as still as a statue, and every now and then she could feel his eyes on her, along with everyone else’s in the room. She was beginning to understand that this would become a common experience for the next six years, so she should probably try and get accustomed to it now.
Opuntia only remembered fragments of what happened over the next few weeks. She definitely couldn’t recall what she learned in her classes besides the fact that science was undoubtedly not for her. She did generally remember getting to know her classmates and seeing their different personalities pop up more and more the more time they spent in classrooms together. The ginger boy was Jeremy McCain and everyone else seemed to share similar feelings towards him as she and Sampson did. There was Roger Vorhees, who for some reason had attached himself to Michael Deangelo and another boy Opuntia thought was annoying, Dorian Dalloway. Despite his never-ending jabs at Opuntia, Michael’s trio would often hang out around her newly formed trio consisting of herself, Teddy, and Sampson, likely due to the familiarity from primary school. But only more people would be added to the group from there on out.
Opuntia remembered Sampson coming up to her and Teddy during lunch nearly halfway through the period, a common occurrence even at the beginning of school since he was always forced to stay behind for talking back or not doing his homework.
“I think we should befriend someone,” He said matter-of-factly, swinging his backpack roughly onto the bench in front of him and parking himself right next to her.
Teddy and Opuntia looked at each other. They were still getting used to Sampson’s out-of-the-blue statements.
“I’ve already talked to a lot of people,” Teddy shrugged. “I don’t know if I would say I’ve walked up to them and immediately became friends with them, but--” Opuntia didn’t know if she considered this true. Everyone Teddy had met so far had immediately taken to him, while she awkwardly tried to join in on conversations or just left so as to not bring unwanted attention to herself. Before, she usually had no problem simply talking to people, but things were much different now.
“No, I’m talking about a specific person. We need to become friends with him if we want to survive here.”
“Survive here?” Opuntia asked him, not understanding what he meant.
“Look, I’ll put it this way,” Sampson said, laying his hands out on the table to both of them. “My cousin Leonard goes to St. Eustace, one of the other hardest schools in the country. And he told me that the one way of getting through school and not drowning in all the work is to find yourself the ‘jets friend’ if you catch my drift.”
When neither Teddy nor Opuntia responded, Sampson continued. “I’m not saying you guys are stupid, because you’re not, but you’re cubes, normal. This guy that I have in my math class is a next-level genius. He’s one of those European ‘send them to America to build bombs’ type of guy. If we get him on our side, we’re sure to graduate with honours.
“...But wouldn’t that just be like having an unpaid tutor?” Teddy asked slowly, clearly not liking the idea of using someone just for grades.
“Don’t worry, I’ll pay him if he wants. I’ll pay him until he sits with us. But we gotta have him. I stayed after class because I didn’t do my homework. He stayed after class and started talking to the teacher about all of these concepts we hadn’t even learned yet.” Opuntia thought she knew who Sampson was talking about. Across the lunch room, a boy was making his way through the tables, still holding his math textbook and gazing at a middle page intently, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Even hunched over reading, he still loomed over the rest, and long blond locks of hair fell into his face as he pointed his Roman nose down, making him look like a hippie rather than an intellectual. She recognized him from a few of her classes and did recall him participating quite a bit, with his Scandinavian accent making him even more memorable.
“That’s him, right there,” Sampson gestured by nodding in his direction. “I’m gonna go talk to him.” He stood up again and quickly began making his way towards the boy.
“And say what?” Teddy called to him as he left.
“Ask him to be my friend?” Sampson replied, while sneakily pulling out bills from his pockets. Opuntia had never seen someone trying to be bribed into friendship, and she honestly wasn’t quite sure how successful the tactic would be in a school where almost everyone was already wealthy.
“Right, and when that doesn’t work, I’ll actually go and talk to him,” Teddy said to Opuntia, shaking his head with a smile and getting up to follow them. She figured that Teddy would have more luck with this boy than Sampson could, but she also suddenly began to worry about how their chances would be affected by her. With most people so far not being able to hold a conversation with her, either pretending she didn’t exist or continuously asking why she was there, she had a sinking feeling that he would be the same.
Opuntia watched from afar as Wilfred Lehoten shook his head, confused at the sight of the money. She watched the three boys stand and talk for a few minutes, Wilfred still clutching the textbook tightly in his arms. He eventually shrugged and followed them over to their table, and thus, their group had gained one more person.
Wilfred’s English was not as good back then. He was often confused by what the rest of them would say, especially with slang. He would question all sorts of things, and a lot of the time the three of them wouldn’t even know how to answer. He was obviously curious as to why Opuntia was there, she knew that was given. But unlike the rest, he didn’t seem to mind.
“All schools, I think, should have men and women.” He said indifferently. “We are only here to learn, after all.”
“Speak for yourself,” Sampson retorted with a smirk.
Wilfred grew more and more comfortable with them, and there was no denying that he was a big help. He never asked for anything in return. He would simply shrug and say that it wasn’t taking much out of him anyway, or that people should be learning in any way that they can. It was only after the first three months of school that he finally was ready to ask for some repayment, in an interesting way.
“You have explained to me what a ‘jets friend’ is,” he stated, and Teddy looked at Sampson exasperatedly, hating the term.
“You aren’t a jets friend, you’re just a friend.” Teddy clarified.
“Well, would it be possible for all of you to want another one?” Wilfred asked tentatively, speaking as if he was making a sales pitch, or presenting a new scientific breakthrough.
“Uhh, maybe?” Opuntia said hesitantly. “I mean, who exactly are you talking about?” There were lots of smart people in Arison, and most of them knew that fact. She was now sure a lot of them would gladly take financial payment for their help, and already were at this point, as long as they weren’t caught by the staff. Money was such a low concern at Arison, that hundred dollar bills would almost get tossed around like paper airplanes. They had lucked out with Wilfred.
“He is also very intelligent, and I’m sure he would want some people to talk to, besides me. He is my roommate.” Wilfred explained. Opuntia racked her brains, trying to think of who Wilfred’s roommate was. She couldn’t remember if she had ever even seen him or been introduced to him.
“Wilfred, it’s no problem. If you introduce this guy to us, I’m sure we can become friends, right?” Opuntia and Sampson nodded.
“I mean, hey, the less work I have to do, the better. Bring this guy over, whoever the lucky fella may be.”
Wilfred beamed at these words and jumped up to find him. Opuntia half expected him to pull a boy out of thin air. By this point, she had been made aware of pretty much every boy in her grade, and she couldn’t remember if any of them were Wilfred’s roommates. Most people, like them, had become aware of how smart he was and we’re constantly asking him for help. In the very corner of the room was the top of a head, being covered by a very heavy copy of The Aeneid. Wilfred talked to the top of this head for several minutes, pointing enthusiastically towards their table and attempting to bring him to them, but he would not budge.
“Jeez, you’d think we stink or something,” Sampson said darkly. Opuntia whistled under her breath. She supposed Wilfred was wrong, this boy didn’t want people to talk to.
“Maybe he’s just shy?” Teddy wondered aloud, hovering between standing up and sitting down, debating whether or not he should join Wilfred in his efforts. After what felt like hours of waiting, Wilfred returned with his roommate: Casimir Seki. Opuntia immediately wondered how she had never noticed him before, since he looked, well…so different from the rest of the students. His hair was still slicked back and he still had glasses, though these were square frames instead of large round ones. He looked down at all of them, except for Opuntia. They introduced themselves awkwardly as Wilfred made room for him at the table.
“I hope Wilfred didn’t tell you about the ‘Jets friend’ thing,” Teddy told Cas, nervously. He might’ve figured that was why he was so hesitant to come over.
“A jet-what?” Cas asked, with a look of disgust etched across his face.
“Ok, ok, you can stop bringing it up. Clearly, it doesn’t work at Arison. I’ll have to tell Leonard that it’s a St. Eustace exclusive.” Sampson said quickly, making everyone laugh, except Cas.
“Just friends then,” Wilfed concluded.
“I told you, I didn’t need any friends. I didn’t need you to decide that for me,” Cas said, gritting his teeth. Opuntia was already noticing the stark contrast between meeting him and meeting Wilfred. She and Cas were both different, she knew that right off the bat. They were different in a way that neither of them could control or hide. So why was he so ungrateful to see people that were welcoming him? That, she didn’t understand. If she didn’t have anyone to rely on, well, like Sampson said, there’s no way she would survive. He was so different and yet he was acting just like the rest of them, cold to her.
“If you don’t want to be friends, then leave.” She blurted out, crossing her arms at him. He looked over at her for the first time with an unreadable expression, the farthest two away from each other at the table. She couldn’t deal with people like Michael in her inner circle, no matter how smart.
“OP--” Teddy began to say, but before he could finish the bell had rung. They all got up from their seats and headed off to their separate classes, Opuntia expecting to never see Cas again after that interaction. Now, she would never say something like that unless driven to her absolute limit, but she felt it needed to be said. She thought for sure she had scared him away, but she was wrong. For a reason she could never understand, Cas kept coming back at lunch. He would complain and grumble, but at the end of the day, it was his choice to stay. Maybe he liked the challenge, maybe he also wanted Wilfred’s help, or maybe he really did want people to talk to. But since that day, for the next five years, their group was complete.
For the next five years, Opuntia continued to grow closer and closer with the four boys she had met one at a time. When the day was droning on and on, she knew Sampson could make things entertaining. When she was puzzled or stuck, Wilfred was always there to explain things in a collected way. When she needed honest feedback on her work, Cas would not fail to give it to her straight. Whenever her world seemed off-axis, Teddy’s wide smile and encouraging words would always set her back on the ground. It was simple, clockwork, and she didn’t need to doubt it for a second.
She had as many joyous moments with them as there were grains of sand on a beach, or stars in the sky. There was the time when Opuntia, Sampson and Teddy spontaneously decided to create a secret language and see how long it would take Cas and Wilfred to decipher. She couldn’t remember exactly how long it took, but not enough as Sampson demanded a rematch soon after.
There was also the time when Sampson thought of the genius idea to steal Opuntia’s hair ribbon right off of her head and knot it in his own hair. They spent all of breakfast time and first period trying to yank it out without flat-out ripping his hair off, all while Cas said, ‘I told you so.’ He eventually went to the nurse who gave him an impromptu haircut, much shorter than was actually necessary. No one was allowed to bring it up for weeks until Sampson could see his curls begin to return.
But her dearest memory of all had to be when the electricity went out one January night in 5th year. All the students were ordered to sleep in the atrium to keep track of all the students. Everyone had lugged down their blankets and pillows from their rooms and sat in front of candles, huddled together for warmth. Teddy had managed to snatch a spot under a large window and, although freezing, they had a perfectly clear view of the night sky. It was a serene scene. Wilfred was explaining all the different constellations in view, tracing the imaginary threads connecting the twinkling dots with his index finger, while Teddy watched in awe, his eyes reflecting the indigo night and the orange candlelight.
“What about that one?” he continuously pointed out.
“Cassiopeia is the collection of stars over there. I believe it’s named after the queen in Greek mythology. The queen was known for being very vain, so vain that…”
Cas was still attempting to study for his history exam but was really listening in on Wilfred’s storytime, his back against the wall and knees clutched to his chest.
Sampson was sleeping peacefully with his head on Opuntia’s shoulder, who was staring out into space, lines of poetry drifting about in her head.
We have never lived in complete darkness
We have never been alone
Even before comprehension
Of hydrogen and black holes
We sat in trenchant silence
Craning our ears for meanings
Of why these little lights are eternal
And why they’ll never leave us.
-OMA
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Opuntia was still staring at the painting as she lay in bed. She had placed it right on her nightstand, leaning on her lamp until she could find a proper frame. She lay under 5 layers of blankets but still felt cold. She heard her windowpane rattle aggressively as the night wind howled like a wounded dog. But she couldn’t close her eyes. She felt like if she didn’t close her eyes, the memories would still remain. She could live there, basking in the sweet air of her past, and pretend like nothing had changed. Nothing good had come out of 1970, she thought. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. As she finally rolled over to stare at her slanted ceiling, she considered the one person not in the painting: Engelbart. She felt that strange, twisting of guilt and pity again. She wished he could’ve been there to see the rest of them in their joyous state. At least she got most of her with her friends as a positive experience. He basically only knew Arison as the terror that had come about during senior year. She felt like she owed it to him to fix things, to show him how much better the school really could be with friends on his side, so that maybe, just maybe, she could see that smile once again. She knew that’s probably what Teddy would want, just to see everyone happy, but how was that even possible anymore?
She supposed the other upside of that year was that Cas was being nicer to her, not on an everyday basis, but every so often. She still found herself thinking about that night in the church house. She actually enjoyed talking to him alone more than she thought she would, but there had barely been a moment like that since. Then again, it may have just been a rare occurrence that he decided would never happen again. There she went again, letting her mind wind full of the intentions and ideas of other people. Allowing herself to be comforted by the past and wander into minds that were not her own, to desperately avoid facing herself. She finally got one last look at Teddy’s painting, and all of its grey brushstrokes curved into shapes, before flicking off the light and drifting into a winter’s slumber.
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