Chapter 4

Steven lay there for a while, wearing his robe like armor to ward off the thoughts of what had just happened to him. It was wrong that's all he knew. All he needed to know. And his mother was in on it. How could he ever trust her again?

His only choice was escape. To get away from the school. To get away from his mother. But mostly to get away from the demons. The small demons inside him: claiming everything was okay. Claiming he enjoyed it. Claiming he wanted it to happen again.

But that wasn't him. It couldn't be. He knew who he was, and that just couldn't be what he was really like. Maybe that's what scared him the most. The possibility that those thoughts really were a part of him and not just some coping mechanism.

Steven pulled the pillow over his head and tried to block out the world. It was the small voice from the door that pulled him back to the present.

"Steven, are you all right?" Ms. Waverly said from the door. He instantly recognized her from the computer room the day before. Thrusting his pillow into his lap he sat up and nodded. "Good. I just brought your things by." She propped the door open and allowed two female students to follow her into the room. Each were carrying a box which they set on the floor before walking back out. "Thanks girls." She smiled and waved as they left.

Ms. Waverly closed the door and took a seat on the bed beside Steven. "So are you getting use to the school?"

Steven didn't know how to answer that so he just looked at his knees.

"Don't worry you'll fit in soon enough," she said putting her hand on his shoulder, "but if you have any problems just come to me and we'll talk. I am your adviser after all." Getting up she left without saying another word.

Steven could tell that Ms. Waverly was a nice woman, but how could he talk to any woman about what had just happened to him? What he was feeling? He gave his head a good shake and firmed his resolve to escape. To give himself something to do, he started opening the boxes the girls had left behind.

Inside those two boxes were the answers to his prayers. Clothes, lots and lots of clothes. They were of course the school uniform. But there were other things too. Underwear, tee-shirts, a backpack, and best of all a winter coat. All he needed to do was wait for dinner and he'd be ready to go. But where to?

He was sure that when they came in on the runway, he saw a road leading away from the school. That had to be the road that Mrs. Danvers was talking about. It would lead to the nearest city. Once he got there he could call his father and he'd save him. It was his only choice.

Steven started feeling better. So, the first thing he did was change into some real clothes. He hung the robe on the hook behind the door, and pulled on a pair of blue boxers. It was wonderful. Like finding something you'd lost. He hurried and threw on some pants, buttoned and tucked in a white shirt, then looked at himself in the mirror. It didn't seem like much of a uniform.

After a thorough search of the boxes he found a few ties and a couple jackets with the school logo on them. The jackets were thin and made for daily use. On his first day he'd noticed some of the girls wearing similar. Out of curiosity he decided to see what he'd look like in the uniform, not that he'd ever wear it. The tie turned out to be a real pain. He had to tie it four times before he finally got it anywhere near right. This was only the third or fourth time he'd worn a tie. He'd hoped never to wear one again, but it was part of the uniform so it wasn't going to kill him to try it on. The socks were near impossible to put on while wearing pants. Finally he had to pull his pants off, put his socks on, and then put his pants back on (they were that form fitting).

Again he stood in front of the mirror and looked at himself. He almost looked respectable, if it wasn't for the silly grin on his face. It was obvious the clothes were made for him and he was sure they were expensive.

A knock at the door startled him, before he could answer, the door swung open and Mrs. Danvers walked in.

"Oh good. I see that your clothes have arrived. I was wondering if you'd be fit to go downstairs for dinner with the rest of the students." She said with a smile, then walked over and started fiddling with his tie. "You know neither my son, nor his father can get these things right." After a quick adjustment she turned him around to the mirror, "There, that looks better doesn't it?"

"Yes," Steven said feeling a bit awkward, "thank you ma'am."

"Now put a comb through that hair and we'll go down to dinner."

"Oh," he said looking around the room for any sign of his bag, "I don't have any of my things yet."

Mrs. Danvers stepped to the door and pulled in one of the bags he'd been carrying the first day, "I think you'll find what you need in here."

"Thanks. What happened to my other bag?" Steven asked nonchalantly as he dug out a comb.

"I think it was put into storage with the rest of your things." Mrs. Danvers' smile widened. "We don't allow outside clothes."

"Oh," he said and started combing his hair, "guess I forgot."

"Don't worry the teachers here will keep you in line, and our assistant principle makes sure of it."

"Assistant principle?" He said following Mrs. Danvers out the door.

"Yes, Ms. Harold." She said. "She deals with the students and takes care of discipline, freeing the principle to do more of the administration work. She's quite good at what she does."

"I'll see my Mom tonight won't I."

"Probably not. I think that she's in the city -- something to do with the Board I think. She should be back in a few days."

Steven lapsed into thought. In some ways he'd hoped to see his mother tonight, to confront her, but it wasn't meant to be. It was better this way, he knew that. No muss, no fuss. He could leave without looking back.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs that lead into the commons room, Mrs. Danvers took an immediate right to a door he hadn't noticed before. Not that he was in any state to remember much the first time he came through here. It opened onto a set of stairs leading down. Though the stairwell was wider than most, it felt closed in and tight. Maybe it was the thought of being underground or just the tomb like feel of the concrete walls, but a chest tightening claustrophobia overcame him.

"Is there something wrong?" Mrs. Danvers said. She looked a bit concerned.

"No I'm alright," he said working hard to get his legs moving. Only thoughts of wide spaces made him feel any better. He tried to hurry down the stairs without seeming to, but it was undeniable, even to himself, that he was spooked.

When they finally reached the bottom of the stairs and walked into the large cafeteria, Steven couldn't help but sigh in relief.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yea, I just --," he said before interrupting himself, "it was nothing."

The panic that had taken him in the stairs was quickly dissipating, leaving him with a sense that he was missing something. It hit him slowly as he turned towards the crowded cafeteria that the babble of sound he'd heard upon entering was slowly dieing down to a shocked whisper as all eyes slowly swiveled in his direction.

Being the center of attention was almost as bad as the feeling that came over him in the stairwell. He could feel the heat in his face rising, drying away some of the sweat covering him. Mrs. Danvers plucked at his sleeve to get him moving which was just the distraction he needed. His feet moved on autopilot, following his teacher's steps, while his mind tried to ignore the room around him.

By the time they reached the counter where the food was, the spell over the room had slowly dispelled, and the noise of conversation was picking back up again. A new boy was a novelty, but not enough of one to stop conversation for more than a minute.

The counter before him was laid out more like a buffet than a standard cafeteria. It was plain that this was not your ordinary school. Not even an ordinary boarding school like he'd seen in the movies. Placing quite a few of his favorite foods on a plate he looked for Mrs. Danvers, but she'd already gone off to sit with some of the other teachers, at a table meant for them.

As covertly as he could he tried to spy a table that was away from everyone, but not so far away that he had to march through enemy territory. Nothing fit the bill. It became clear that he was going to have to walk by most of the closer tables to find an empty one. Taking a breath he started walking, one foot after the other. He could hear snatches of conversations as he passed this table or that, all about him. After the words 'tight ass' hit his ears the first time he consciously started not listening. It made it easier getting to his goal without tripping over his own feet. When at last he took his chair, he felt as though he'd been put through the ringer.

Eating became a whole new problem, because he could feel hundreds of eyes on him. It wasn't just the thought of people watching, he was no slob, but he knew that all these girls were rich. They had a different way of doing things than normal people. Steven just knew that he was going to do something wrong and embarrass himself -- and he wouldn't even know what he did wrong.

Luckily, a distraction came. The girl with the fiery red hair plopped down in a chair across from him plate in hand.

"Hi," she said, "you remember me from this morning?"

"Sam, right? The girl with the boy's name."

Her freckly face cracked into a big smile, "Yep, that's me. Nice to meet ya'."

"Same," Steven said shaking her hand. He broke into a smile himself, hers being so sincere it was contagious.

"So what do you think of our little school?" She looked around and said, "a bit tight assed ain't it?" Steven had to choke back his fork full of potatoes to keep from spitting them out. "Sorry about that."

"Not that I've noticed," he said after finally getting his food down the right pipe, "but I haven't seen much of the school yet."

"It mostly looks the same." Sam shrugged. "Big building, mountains, or the wall. Not much to see here."