I woke up at seven thirty, wondering where the heck Toni was. Did I do something? Was she mad at me? I pondered this as she arrived, with breakfast. As we sat down to eat, Toni went over to the bed and pulled something out from under the pillow. It was a broken arrow with gunk on the end. My eyes must have widened, because she winced and slightly and set it down in front of me.
“I need to talk to you about something,” she said as she removed a very deadly looking throwing knife from behind her suitcase and travel bag.
“Where’d you get these, Toni?” I asked, somewhat freaked, “What happened to you?” I asked after she rolled up the leg of her sweat pants.
“Yesterday, when I lost my snowboard,-” she stated, but sat and looked out the window. “Viv and I, we think it was Ceridwen Heath.”
“What? What did she do?” I was really freaked out now.
When I was out on the hill by myself, she tried to shoot me with a bow,” She gestured to the arrow, “then tried to take me down with a knife when she missed.” She said all this rather quickly, glad to get it out.
I put my arms around her, but she pushed me off. “You don’t believe me, do you? You think I’ve lost it. You’re probably thinking about locking me away somewhere until the end of break.”
There was a glint in her eyes, something that told me she was telling the truth, however outlandish it may be. She looked close to tears, but also very dangerous, as she was on the defensive.
“I believe you; I just don’t why it happened. I mean, who would want to kill you? You’re kind, caring, loving, smart...” She started to calm down little by little.
“You really believe me?” She whispered into my chest. She’d come back into my arms while I was listing her good characteristics.
“Yes, I do, and we’ll find out why Ceridwen’s doing this. But not now, we’ve got breakfast, and then base- jumping.
“But, couldn’t someone like her try and kill me there?” she asked, a little scared.
I tensed. I’d been trying to calm her, but now she had a point. If it wasn’t Ceri, or even if it was, they were still there, waiting. Worse yet, what if there was more than one person after Toni. And why? What had Toni done to anyone to be the target of someone with weapons and time?
I shooshed and soothed her until dinnertime, when we decided we’d go down tonight. Ten minutes later, Toni in strapless black silk sheath, I think she called it, and I in my tux, no tie, we walked to the elevator bank. I pushed the down button as I heard an arrow nock click into place.
I spun and put Toni behind me as the arrow shot through the still air, embedding itself in my right arm, just below the shoulder. I winced, but didn’t call out, knowing if I moved, Ceri would have some other weapon to use against Toni.
I pushed Toni back into the now open elevator and pushed the button to close the door. When we were in the elevator, I pushed the button to stop the elevator until I could get a grasp on things. Toni tried pulling the arrow out, but I figured it might be holding something together.
I pushed for the main floor where the hotel doctor was and pulled the arrow out in one quick yank. I swallowed a scream. Holy frick that hurt. As I stumbled next to Toni, we went to the doctor’s office. Of course, we couldn’t tell him what the wound was from, but at least I could get it taken care of, and maybe make it through dinner.
Getting my arm bandaged was a slow agonizing process. The doctor lifted and prodded my arm, ignoring the bleeding hole, the obvious point of entry. I ended up with bandages on my arm, crossing on my shoulder, then across my chest. Once I put my shirt and jacket back on, we made our way to the main dining room.
During dinner, sitting between Toni and Rhiannon, I learned that there was a shoe sale on Tuesday at a French shop I’d never heard of. I looked at Val, my best friend, for help. He smirked and shrugged. What can you do? I laughed and looked down at my plate.
Valerian Raves... mmm... Val has been the ‘Human Lightning Bolt’ for three years since he got addicted to piercings. Rhiannon Ballinger, his life companion/ soulmate/ lover/ girlfriend is one of the nicest girls you’ll ever meet, if you’re lucky. She can talk the ear off anyone in about three minutes. Never sit between her and another girl, but look where I am.
Other people around us included Viv and Juliet, Gabriel and Ilie, Chelsey and Gideon, Bernie and Trevor, Lyra and Kieren, Luc and his brother Nicky and Gabriel’s’ brother Cassian. There were also various dignitaries, senators and the like. Most people were from our school though.
About halfway through dinner, Ivy Roberts, our headmistress, and Raphael Rivera, our school psychologist at St. Kathy’s called for attention.
Ms. Roberts addressed the masses in the dining room. “Now, everyone, I know that not all of you know or care about us here, but we’ve got some announcements to make. First, could Mr. Valerian Raves, MR. Nicholas St. James, Mr. Kieren Navarre and Mr. Cassian Genavara come up here?”
As they got up and went to the head table, Val glanced at me and mouthed ‘ISU’ to me. It took me a minute to get it. He was talking about Illinois State University, where half of the players from the Chicago Bears came from.
Now Mr. Rivera began to speak, “Valerian Raves, please accept this scholarship to Illinois State University, Football. Nicholas St. James, please accept this scholarship to New York State University, Basketball. Kieren Navarre, please accept this scholarship to Boston College, Art. And last, but certainly not least, Cassian Genavara, please accept this scholarship to... Oxford University? Yes, Oxford. Theology. Thank you all. There will be a ceremony as well as more recipients when we return to school.” They sat down. Val came back, smiling from ear to ear.
“Told ya,” he said, “I knew. My dad told me last night on vidchat. He told me I’d get the scholarship, as if I need it, but it’s earning something, ya know? Proving how good I am at football. I earned it. Period, plain and simple.”
I thought about it for a minute. It felt good to work for something. I mean, it’s easy to have the answer right there on a silver platter and all, but it felt good at the end to have worked for it, to have earned it. People don’t always realize that overly privileged teenagers don’t always want a Mustang for their 16th birthday, sure it’s nice. I worked all year to pay for my Maserati and I think I like the car better now, because of it.
Next, Chelsey Peters stood up.
“Next, we’d like to announce Arts awards. Um... Rhiannon Ballinger, Lyra Vamphyr, Bernadette Silvers and Iliana Walters. Oh, and Logan Varen.” We all got up and walked over to where Chelsey was standing. “Rhi, scholarship, Juilliard, music. Lyra, scholarship, Art Institute of Seattle Washington, fashion. Bernie, internship, Juilliard, drama. Ilie, scholarship, New York School of Ballet, dance. Logan, full work, Art Institute of New York, visual arts.” We started walking back to our seats.
“Finally, Ivy Roberts, please, Ms. Roberts, accept this plaque and wall hanging.” She read the plaque as Mr. Rivera pulled the black cloth off of an easel.
Administrator of the Year
Presented to:
Ivy Roberts
For work done above and beyond the course f duty
There was a collective gasp as the wall hanging was revealed. It was a gold- leaf engraving of the graduating classes’ signatures. At the top, it proudly bore the words:
Class of 2012
We all yelled and clapped as she walked over to take the plaque. She touched the gold on the wall hanging, lightly tracing the signatures near the top. Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears as she walked back to her seat. We clapped and cheered again. She‘d get it again at school with more people.
After dinner, back in our room, I thought about Art Institute, as well as my friends; most of them getting scholarships and jobs. Then I thought about what Val had said, about not needing the scholarship, but working to get it anyway, to prove you could. To prove that rich kids aren’t all stupid and just because we had the money.
The next morning, I tired to remember if I had had any dreams last night. I couldn’t remember, like in a drugged sleep, where you don’t dream. I thought of Toni, the warm form curled at my side. Was she dreaming, or would she wake from a dreamless sleep as I had?
I slowly moved across the bed, careful not to disturb Toni. When I got to the bathroom and started running the shower, I suddenly felt nauseous. I rushed to the toilet. Dinner came and went, leaving me empty and thankful for the toilet’s cold side. Where did that come from? I cleaned my mouth out, and then took my shower. When I went to get clothes, Toni was sitting up in bed, rubbing her temples.
“Sleep ok, Toni?” I asked, cautiously. She waved me off and sank back into the silk pillows. “Toni?”
“Yeah?”
“So, how’d you sleep?” She grunted. Oh.
“Headache. Ugh.” She slid back to the pillow, closed her eyes, and then opened them. “Did you say something?”
“No, why?”
“I thought I heard you say something. Mmm...” She was gone, back to sleep in seconds.
I sighed. I wonder why she’s so tired. Bad dreams maybe. I started opening drawers, looking for clothes. Jeans, shorts? Long sleeves, short?
As I pulled my shoes on, with my long khakis and dark blue polo, I watched Toni sleep, an angel with a halo of hair spread out across the silk pillows. She as like a star, a dark star, standing out against the pale sheets, moaning, tossing and turning, calling out my name a few times. I wanted to scoop her up in my arms and wash away every fear in her mind until she dreamt of puppies and rainbows or me on a beach.
After finally finishing an essay I’d been putting off, I looked over at lunch set out on the table. I went over to the bed and lightly shook Toni’s shoulders. Why is she sleeping so late? Is she sick? Should I call someone? No, they’d look at her lag and wonder what happened. They could be in Ceri. No! I’m just being paranoid now. Toni stirred; actually, she jumped in her sleep. Oops, I must have been talking out loud. I thought back to my not quite so inward discussion about whether or not to call a doctor. I decided against it and went over to wake her again. This time it worked. She tried to go back to sleep again, but I persuaded her out of it by showing her lunch- Filet Mignon. She ate, I talked. She put in her bits, but it was mostly me.
It didn’t take long to realize that Toni was sick, though I had no clue as to what ailed her. I checked her temperature with no avail: 98.6. She had an appetite. Check. Though, she seemed dazed, off in some fantasy world I couldn’t seem to penetrate. I needed a shrink for her. God, I hate though people. Toni needs psychiatric help. I don’t know what’s wrong with her. She’s physically fine, but she’s in a sort of daze, like a trance. Wait! Mr. Rivera’s a psychologist, I think. I called the front desk.
“Yeah, hi, this Logan Varen in room 316, may I please speak to Raphael Rivera, I think he’s in room 224.” A pause. The clerk.
“Yes, I’ll put you through momentarily, Mr. Varen.
“Hello? Logan Varen?”
“Yes, sir. Umm, Mr. Rivera, you’re a shrink-- a psychologist, right?”
A laugh. “Yes, I’m a shrink-- a psychologist. Do you need to talk about something?”
“No, not me, um... Toni-- Antonia Walters does. She’s kinda dazed or something. And we didn’t have that much last night. Can you help?
“Yes, bring her over. I’d like to see her.”
“Ok, we’ll be over in a bit. Bye. Thanks.”
* * *
In Mr. Rivera’s room, he looked at Toni and asked us to sit down. He told us or me rather, that Toni appeared to be high. He asked me if she’d been smoking anything. I told him no. He told me that students as talented as us would suffer greatly from doing drugs. He asked me if I knew that highs were actually a reaction to poison. I said yeah, than thought of something. Poison? What if Toni’d been poisoned? Last night, Ceri was nowhere near her, but she could have tampered with our breakfast or lunch somehow.
I asked Mr. Rivera if it could be ‘food’ poisoning. He said that food poisoning made you sick, not high. He also told that poisons such as arsenic or rat poison, would make you high before your body started shutting down.
I walked Toni to the elevator to go down to the doctor again. Oh God, please don’t let her die. I prayed silently. She collapsed right after the elevator doors opened. An old couple looked at her strangely, but said nothing.
“Bad hangover.” I received a disapproving glance for this. Too damn bad.
Val walked out of the doctor’s office just as we were walking up. He turned toward us and helped me half- carry Toni into the room.
The doctor took Toni’s temperature. She then asked me how long she’d been like this and if she’d eaten anything strange lately. I told her that it had been about an hour and that she’d had Filet Mignon for lunch and eggs and hash browns for breakfast, but nothing strange. The doctor said that Toni appeared high and asked if she’d been doing anything she shouldn’t have. She told me that if I lied to protect her or the person who gave her the drugs, that I wasn’t hurting the dealer by telling, I was hurting Toni by not telling.
I told the doctor that Toni hadn’t done anything wrong and that I thought she might have been poisoned. The doctor and Val both looked at me with the widest stare of shock I’d think possible. Toni made a noise in her throat being stating to cough violently. The doctor turned her onto her side, so she wouldn’t choke. Toni relocated her lunch from her stomach onto the doctor’s floor, and then collapsed. A few moments later, she sat up, her eyes watering.
“I don’t feel so-- wait, where am I?”