Part 2
"Compost and Consequences"
I saw the lines of students flowing from one classroom to another, and felt a rush of relief. I wasn't late for my next class until I heard the bell. I joined a file of Level 9 students headed toward the Science classrooms. I liked having Science after History, because the instructor, Madame Hephreny, was infinitely more interesting than Scholar Mikel--and she was certainly not as adamant about students taking specific notes and never bringing up questions in class. For all his touting of the "scientific method", I couldn't help feeling that, judging by the teaching methods, actual science seemed very much more of a lax subject than history was!
I took my place behind a small table with a row of plants laid out upon it. Beside me, a new student fiddled with the stems--something Madame Hephreny had warned us time and again that we were never to do. I couldn't blame her though; her family had just moved to Mirrorvale, and by "just", I meant "back when I was young, and she barely a toddling." There were a lot of families like mine, who had lived in Mirrorvale for generations, and so anybody who couldn't claim that was regarded as "new" and such a reputation was very hard to outlive.
I suppose the other reason I still considered her "new" was that I hardly knew her. I learned from attendance that her name was Sheranne; she'd only just attained Level 9 in Science, and she was still at a lower level for many other classes, so there weren't very many places we could interact.
WHAP.
WHAP.
I flinched along with everybody else as Madame Hephreny's long pointer slapped across the table in front of Sheranne. Her curly golden hair bounced in time with her movements.
"Students should not be touching the items on their desk without direction," Madame declared in her customary sing-song voice. "Please listen and follow directions while you are in my class!"
Sheranne colored bright vermillion, and hid her face at the gentle reprimand. The students who had been in this classroom for many seasons snickered at her embarrassment. We'd all experienced it at one time or another. I didn't laugh. We moved on through the lesson, on the concept of photosynthesis and the correlation between chlorophyll and sunlight, its effect on plants, and the various creatures involved in the life processes of plants.
Madame Hephreny calmly read through the textbook, directing us in the dissection of the various flowers and leaves before us--until she came to the topic near the end of the lesson. At her direction, a pair of assistants brought in a putrid bucket of what could only be described as sludge of varying consistency. Most of us held our noses. Sheranne covered her face.
"Now we arrive at an extremely important part of a plant's life cycle. Ordinarily, a plant that has been used and consumed is considered waste, as are the bits that cannot be consumed--but that, my dears, is not the end!" She set aside the book and eagerly plunged her bare hands into the bucket. We all heard the squelch. I noticed Sheranne start to tremble beside me, wavering on her feet.
"Behold," Madame Hephreny held up a mound of black and blue goop in her hands, "Compost!"
I heard the noise Sheranne made, saw the splatter hit the floor--and the whole classroom dissolved into chaos. Younger students screamed, some boys jeered, and poor Sheranne--vomit all down her dress, looking like she wanted to faint.
Madame Hephreny stood at the front of the classroom, eyes wide, doing her best to try and raise her voice over the clamor as her hands full of compost rendered her immobile. She did her best, but everyone was all over the place, crying, and laughing and yelling.
A ringing bell arrested everyone's attention, and we all faced the front, where an assistant held the brass bell Madame Hephreny kept at the front of the class for emergencies. She let the pile of compost drop, as the other assistant brought a towel.
"You are all dismissed!" she said, rushing over to Sheranne. The poor girl's face was pale, and she quaked from head to toe.
"B-but the bell hasn't rung--" Someone started to protest.
"I don't care!" Madame Hephreny's voice had lost its songlike quality. She waved her arm at all of us. "Get out of this classroom this instant! I have nothing more to say to you all!"
We all filed miserably into the empty hallway. The other classrooms were filled with students still--until that bell rang and we could shift classes, the whole group had nothing to do.
Well, everyone who wasn't me, that is.
I pulled out Scholar Mikel's permission slip, and headed down the hallway toward the south wing, where the library was located. I passed by the Etiquette classrooms on the way--a Level 8 group was just arriving at the door. My eyes immediately focused on a certain head of dark hair, and I felt a smile and a warmth spreading over my face before I could stop it. Of course I stared too long, and just as I passed, the dark head turned to face me, and the clear blue eyes smiled.
How much had changed in only four seasons! I hardly believed I was looking at the same Matthias I had known almost all my life.
There was once a time when we were inseparable: me, Matthias, and our friend Terra Jonsyn. We grew up together, joined Academy together, and it felt like it had only been since achieving Level 9 in all my classes that I stopped seeing Matthias so frequently. At least Terra and I still spent time at each other's houses outside of Academy, but Matthias, I barely saw at all, except at social events. Lately, I'd depended on hearing from my mother's reports of the latest news from the neighborhood gossip grapevine--but now here he was again, looking every inch the eligible young man, training to become a competent tradesman like his father.
I recovered myself as I rounded the corner and approached the library door.
Why am I suddenly beset by nerves? I asked myself. I have permission to be here. I'm not skulking about like some rebellious young--
"Callista!"
For the second time, the sound of my name interrupted my own thoughts, but this time, a slender hand landed on my shoulder.
I knew exactly who it was. Without turning around, I pushed the hand off.
“Let me guess,” I turned to face the owner of said hand. “You skipped Etiquette again?”
Terra Jonsyn, a spunky redhead with deep dimples, unruly hair and far too many freckles, rolled her sparkling blue eyes at me. “It’s so boring! I know how to be courteous and how to not make a fool of myself in social gatherings, why should it matter which fork I use to eat my entree with, or which corner of the napkin I use to wipe my mouth?”
I sighed and shook my head. There was plenty of inspiration for the nickname “Tearaway Terra” that she had earned for herself; she pursued life with reckless abandon, and it was that very recklessness that frequently got her into trouble.
"Well, be that as it may," I murmured as she jigged to the soft strains of music issuing from the Dance classroom, "I hope you don't get into too much trouble before the next class. Too much idle time can lead to some unintended consequences." Particularly for someone as curious and brazen as Terra! I thought to myself.
I turned away and handed my permission slip to the Senior Archivist in charge of the library.
When I glanced over my shoulder, Terra still stood beside me, a stunned expression on her face. "Callista!" she breathed. "How did you get permission to go to the library?"
I shrugged, wanting to make as light of the situation as possible, here in the hallway. "Special assignment for History class." I turned back to the doors as the Archivist swung them open for me, and Terra grabbed my wrist.
"Can I come with you?" she begged.
The two of us were friends, but most people, from watching us, felt that our personalities couldn't be more opposite. I was methodical and straightforward; she had far too much energy than was considered proper for a lady, and she tended to err on the scatterbrained side. I could be content with focusing on one single task for an extended period, while Terra required considerably more active involvement and thrived with rapid changes in pace. She tended to seek me out and follow me around whenever our paths crossed, but I could usually deter her by heading somewhere she didn't want to go, or get settled into some mundane task until she wandered off out of sheer boredom, leaving me to pursue my own agenda in peace.
Today, I could tell, was not going to be one of those days.
I shook my head and tried to pull away. "No, Terra--the permission slip was for myself only. They don't just let--"
"Please? I could help you!"
"I don't need help--"
"Are you going in or not?" The Archivist cut short our little tug-of-war, staring down his nose at me.
The more I argued with Terra, the less time I had for doing the research I needed. The aggravating girl had put me in a spot where I had no choice.
"All right, come on!" I said, and the two of us followed the Archivist together.
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