Alex Armstrong: Awakening (16 page)

“I still think you should tell him.”

knock-knock-knock

“Ah, the Amazon arrives,” Patrick said. “Good, I’ll explain my tit-for-tat scale to her while it’s fresh on my mind.”

“Don’t!”

“Oh, I’m just messing with you.” Patrick pulled Alex to his feet and opened the door. “Well, if it isn’t the lovely Eva!” Patrick said. “So, how was your virtual Christmas?”

“Long,” Eva said. She eyed each of them in turn. “Are you guys drunk?”

“Us? No, no. Minors aren’t allowed to drink. We would never break the law.”

“You’re drunk. I can smell it.”

“Hey, Eva.” Alex gave a little wave when he said it.

“Alex, are you all right? You’re swaying.”

He just stood there smiling. Seconds went by before he realized she asked him a question. “Oh, I’m fine. Feeling awesomer by the minute. I’m, uh…‌donkey smoking.”

Eva glared at Patrick. “What did you do to him?”

Patrick beamed and put his arms around Alex and Nate. “We stood by his side as he took this important step toward manhood.”

Eva rolled her eyes. “Idiots. Let’s go get some food.”

****

For the first time in a month, the smell of food was more potent than the piney scent of the Christmas tree. It stood shedding in the spot where President Joyce addressed the students at Freshman Dinner. It was twelve feet tall and half as wide and was decorated with white lights and red and silver glass ornaments.

The focal point of the room was still the fireplace. Oversized stockings hung on the mantel below a thick length of garland with gold-painted pinecones nestled amongst its twinkling lights. Above was a wreath the size of a kiddie pool.

They grabbed green plates from their red-skirted table and made their way to the food. “I’m getting a little tired of the holiday music,” Patrick said.

“It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas,” Alex sang in his best baritone. Eva looked surprised. She laughed. “I didn’t know I could sing,” Alex said.

“You can’t,” Patrick said. “Please. Stop.”

“Come on, get in the spirit!” Alex hooked his arm into Eva’s and led her skipping around an empty table. “A pair of hop-a-long boots and a pistol that shoots is the wish of Bonny and Ben!”

“How does he even know that lyric?” Patrick said.

Nate smiled. “Just leave him be, man. At least we know he’s a happy drunk.”

Alex stopped singing when he saw the food. He slipped his arm out of Eva’s and walked past the eggnog station and made straight for the turkey and ham. He covered the meat with mashed potatoes and gravy and stuck a piece of cornbread on top as if it was a brick on mortar. He topped off his Coke at the soda fountain and turned and his drink collided with a girl’s chest. He could only watch in horror as the brown liquid sloshed out of his cup and soaked into her coat. “Ohmygosh I am so sorry.”

“Damnit, you stupid Bort! That’s gonna stain!”

Alex recognized her. It was the raven-haired senior he met after waking from his deep sleep. “I’m really sorry. It was an accident.” He felt his buzz fading away.

“Hey, I remember you,” she said. Her half-smile did nothing to soften the look in her eyes. She turned to her friend. “You remember this little twerp, don’t you? You were there.”

Alex’s eyes widened. The New Yorker. He looked a lot bigger in person. A bit shorter than Alex, but about fifty pounds heavier.

“Yeah, and I told him to stay away from you. That you were trouble. Looks like I was right.”

Patrick and Nate and Eva walked up and stood with Alex. “What’s going on? Did I miss a food fight?” Patrick said, eyeing the girl’s shirt.

“Shut up, Bort!” she said.

“Bort? Seriously?” Patrick rolled his eyes. “I’ve been called way worse than that. Why are you guys still on campus? Don’t you have homes?”

“Shut the hell up,
midget
,” said the New Yorker.

“See? Midget. That’s worse.” Patrick’s hands clinched at his sides.

The girl stared at Alex. “Do you even remember my name?”

“Uhhh.”

“It’s Kim. My name is Kim.”

Alex winced. “I knew that. I’m really sorry about the note. I totally forgot.”

“Oh, so I’m forgettable?” She glanced at the New Yorker. “You hearing this?” She turned back to Alex. “I didn’t forget you, Alex.”

“Sorry.”

“Oh, I’m sure. Tell me, Alex, you been having a nice Christmas?”

Alex nodded.

“Call your mommy and daddy early in the morning and open presents together?”

Alex didn’t say anything.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue? Or maybe your throat’s dry? Yeah, that must be it. I can fix that.” She turned and grabbed the ladle from the serving bowl and dumped eggnog on Alex’s head. It dripped from the tip of his nose.

“Hey!” Eva shouted.

“What the hell was that?” Patrick said.

Kim ignored him and kept laughing.

“No, I’m serious. Jesus, that was like the overreaction of the century. You’re like some bad TV show bully. What are you, insane or something?”

Alex wiped the eggnog from his face. “It’s fine, Patrick. Let’s go.”

“No wonder he didn’t call you. Not only is she better looking, but you’re nuts.”

Nate tried to grab Patrick’s arm, but he pulled away.

“I think this one’s thirsty, too.”

Patrick turned to the New Yorker. “Dude, if you’d pay attention, you’d understand that I’m trying to do you a favor. In case you haven’t noticed, your girl’s got some crazy in her.” He glanced at Kim and then leaned closer, as if he was sharing a secret. But he didn’t whisper. “And she’s kind of a bitch.”

Without a word, Kim dropped the ladle and wrapped her arms around the serving bowl and hefted it off the table.

“Oh, no,” Nate said.

Patrick puffed out his chest and stepped forward, but it was too late. Kim had already hurled the thick liquid toward his face. All he could do was close his eyes and wait for impact.

The yellow glob froze in midair. Kim stared stupidly at the serving bowl before looking at Alex. He was staring right at her, his eyes burning like blue comets. When he blinked the eggnog went crashing into Kim, soaking her from head to waist. Little specks of yellow went flying in every direction. Some of it landed on the New Yorker’s jacket. His expression changed to pure rage.

Alex was one step ahead. He turned to the pasta station and sent a large cheese pizza arcing through the air. The New Yorker looked just in time for it to smack him right in the face, the dough draping over him like a hot towel. He clawed at his face but could only tear off a piece at a time.

Nate and Patrick doubled over, their laughter joining that of the other freshmen in the Dining Hall. Kim still hadn’t moved. She just stood there with her arms hanging at her sides, eggnog falling from her fingertips.

The Yankee finally tore away enough of the dough to see again. The cheese and the marinara made it seem as though his face was melting. He let out something like a growl and then drew back his fist, oblivious to the pizza pan racing straight for his face.

“Enough!” Professor Startsman’s voice cut through the Dining Hall.

The pan clattered on the floor and the Yankee stopped himself mid-punch.

Professor Startsman looked at both parties, lingering on the upperclassmen a beat longer. He turned to Alex and his friends. “You four, get out of here.”

“But we didn’t get to eat,” Patrick said.

“Leave. Now.”

“We’re going,” Alex said. “Sorry, Professor.” He grabbed a napkin and blotted his head dry as best he could. They hustled out the door and into the cold air.

“Smokin the donkey!” Patrick said.

“Man, you don’t know when to shut up, do you?” Nate said.

“Yeah, that was a little intense,” Alex said.

“What? She
is
nuts. It’s about time somebody told her. Besides, I had it under control.”

“Riiiight,” Nate said, laughing. “You’re lucky Alex was there to save your ass.”

“Exactly. See, it all worked out in the end.”

“Idiot,” Eva said.

“But seriously, what are we doing about food?” Patrick said. “I was this close to tearing off a piece of pizza from that guy’s face.”

“I have an idea. Be right back,” Eva said. She ran around the side of the building.

“What’s she gonna do?” Patrick said.

It didn’t take long for an answer. Eva came back holding four pizza boxes, the smell of pepperoni strong in the night air. “This oughtta hold us.”

“It’s a Christmas miracle!” Patrick said.

“Who hooked you up?” Nate said.

Eva shrugged. “I don’t know his name. But it’s Christmas. I figured if I spoke to the only non-robot in there he’d help me out. They had a bunch of pizza.”

“Nice,” Patrick said. “Now let’s go back and have another dr—”

“No more drinks,” Eva said. “You guys only get pizza if you promise not to drink anymore. Deal?”

“Ugh. The Grinch,” Patrick said. “Let me check with my comrades.”

“Pizza,” Nate and Alex said in unison.

Eva smiled. “Perfect. And we’ll watch whatever Christmas movie’s playing on TV.”

Alex rubbed Patrick’s head. “Cheer up, Patrick! We can sing Christmas carols on the way home! Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer…”

“Had a very shiny nose!” Nate and Eva sang.

“Nooooo!” Patrick covered his ears and ran for the dorms.

16 - Professor Sonnier

16

Professor Sonnier

“Don’t wait on us; we’re moving around like a couple of geriatrics.”

Alex leaned against the door with his hands buried in the front pockets of his jacket. He noticed a clump of soil hanging from the roof by just a single root and reached up and grabbed it and tossed it aside. He wiped his hand on his jeans. “If it makes you feel any better, you’re definitely walking less flay-footed.”

Patrick smiled. “I told you the gyroscopes work! Check it out.” He twisted his foot outward and the shoe began to vibrate.

“I still don’t understand why he’s making you wear those things,” Eva said.

“Cause I’m a self-defense stud,” Patrick said. He broke into some ridiculous martial arts pose. “And once my movement becomes more neutral, I’ll be a self-defense
master
.” Another pose.

Eva rolled her eyes.

“So do you have to wear them today?” Alex said.

“In the basement? No. Not yet. That’d just be cruel.”

The four of them walked to the end of the yellow-tinted hallway and down the stairwell and through the sliding glass doors of YB1. The back wall was already cluttered with half-a-dozen jackets and beanies and gloves. Patrick was the first one out of his shoes and outerwear. He hurried to the front of the room.

Eva watched him go, her teeth chattering. She blew warm air into her gloves. “He
lives
for this class…‌and all I wanna do is stay curled up back here under these jackets. It’s freezing.”

“Better than the alternative,” Alex said. “If he turned the heat on, it’d be miserable. And it would probably smell worse than it does now.” He watched her grudgingly nod in agreement as she stripped down to her uniform. She tried to tug the bottom of her shirt over her midriff but the compression material kept sliding upward.

“Did I mention how much I hate these shirts?”

“Every class,” Alex said. He stood there watching her struggle. “Maybe if you read a little more sci-fi growing up you’d like them. They make us look like we’re from the future.”

Each student wore dark grey track pants made of a reflective material designed to work with the room’s tracking software. A strip of sensors laying flush against their spines glowed red as they stepped onto the tempered glass floor, the display warm beneath their feet. It was like standing on a giant television screen. They made their way to the second row behind Nate and Patrick, Alex on the blue square, Eva to his right on the red.

Patrick bounced on his toes like a boxer waiting in his corner. “Hey, did any of yall start the Intro II reading last night?”

“That’s not due till Friday,” Eva said.

“I know, I know. I was just wired last night for whatever reason, so I went ahead and finished it.”

“And?”

“It was all about Sonnier,” Patrick said. “He’s a badass. Did you know he used to be a paratrooper?”

“You gotta have some big ones to jump out of a plane,” Alex said.

“I know, right? Well, that’s how he met President Joyce,” Patrick said. “Those guys used to work together back in the day. It said that they first met during a rescue mission where they saved, like, twenty hostages. Joyce was the team leader. But Sonnier…‌dude’s legit. He’s
killed
people.”

“You read that?” Nate said.

Patrick nodded. “Anyway, Joyce ended up hiring him as a combat instructor once the new campus opened. And now he heads up the Greyjeans. Pretty good for a guy who’s not a telekin.”

“He’s not?” the three of them said.

Patrick smiled and turned to face the front of the room.

“Center square, everyone!”

Alex’s blue square blinked twice and contracted to the size of a cereal box. He sidestepped into position.

Professor Marc Sonnier moved with the power of a silverback, the smell of drugstore aftershave lingering in the wake of his barrel-chested frame. When he reached the front of the room, he folded his arms behind his back and faced the students. Veins popped in his neck as he chewed a piece of gum. He was huge. In another life, he might have been a linebacker. His eyes fell on Nate’s foot. “What happened?” His voice was always gritty, as if he needed a cough drop.

“Rammed my foot into the wall on the way to the shower.”

“Looks like the wall won.”

“Feels like the wall won,” Nate said.

Sonnier smiled, still chewing his gum. His head was due for another shave; white stubble sprouted around its perimeter. “Will you be able to keep up?”

“I’ll be fine.”

He nodded and pulled his phone from his back pocket and aimed it at the ceiling. The overhead lights dimmed and projectors hummed to life as full-sized holograms materialized before each student, the body and facial mapping so exact that it was like looking into a blue-tinted mirror. “Begin your warm-ups.”