She walked down the hall passing lines of rust colored lockers, classroom doors with frosted glass panes, and walls the color of sand. The bell overhead rang again, and then there was complete silence. It felt eerie, like Natti had entered a tomb. She continued moving, trying to reason with herself that her fears were merely first-day jitters. She took the right as the young girl had instructed.
The hall fanned out into a small indoor atrium with a diminutive fountain in the center of a six foot by six foot square raised flower bed. As she approached it, she could see the main entrance, once again made of glass; two sets of curved stairs at the other end that led to a lofted region of second floor; and a skylight above. On the walls hung slabs of limestone painted with Egyptian figures, reminding her of the papyrus depictions from the Book of the Dead that hung on the walls of her grandmother’s mansion.
She walked up to a bronze plaque at the base of the fountain and read.
Setemple High Atrium
2008
A gift to my beloved Alma Mater.
Sean O’Keefe.
Natti snorted and rolled her eyes before turning to the office door at her right. She walked inside finally feeling there was something normal about this school. The office had a regular clerk’s desk with a few inner offices surrounding it, and just besides her was a break and mail room for the staff. She walked up to the secretary.
“Hi, I’m Natara Stone. I’m here to pick up my schedule.”
The woman grinned. “Natara Stone. Of course. One second.”
She wheeled back and picked up a file from a little metal holder on the desk. Natti glanced back at the little garden.
“So what’s with the ancient Egyptian décor in the hall?”
“Oh, yes. Isn’t it lovely? Mr. Sean O’Keefe, an alumnus here in town, donated the money for its construction. He’s so charming, really— and very handsome.” The woman blushed and giggled. “He’s done so much for this school. He designed and funded the construction of the atrium; contributed much of the school equipment; and just a few years ago, donated the money to remodel the cafeteria. We owe him and his family a great debt for his generosity. Oh, but I digress, our team is named the Pharaohs, hence the Egyptian motif.”
Natti raised the corner of her lips in an attempt to smile. The Pharaohs. She should have guessed from the little figure on the school’s main webpage. It didn’t thrill her to be attending a school decorated like the inside of an Egyptian museum, but oddly, it did remind her a little of her grandmother’s estate. Somehow, that was a little comforting in the unfamiliar setting.
The secretary opened Natti’s file, flipping through the papers inside. “It seems everything is in order in terms of your paperwork. You’ll be able to pick up your textbooks from the library.” She took out a paper slip which had Natti’s course work listed: American Literature, Trigonometry, Photography, World History, lunch, Chemistry, French, and Physical Education. The secretary pointed her pen to American Literature. “Your first class is with Mr. Jackson in room two-forty-five. Just head up the stairs here, pass the library, head down the third hall, and make a right.” She then placed the tip of her pen in the corner of the sheet. “And I have written your locker number, gym locker, and the combinations right here.”
“Thank you,” Natti said and picked up her schedule.
“Not to worry.” The secretary grinned. “Have a nice day.”
***
“Head down the third hall and make a right,” Natti repeated the secretary’s words in frustration. She glanced down at her schedule, and then back at the room numbers before her. “Brilliant, here for thirty minutes and I’m already lost. Couldn’t she have given me a bloody map?”
There was a crash and a loud gasping moan. She turned to the door next to her and stepped into the room. Her eyes widened as two entangled bodies jumped in the dark; the light shining from the hall streamed over the couple. She recognized the tall, copper haired upperclassman from the parking lot; the boy who had sent her the enchanting smile. Now he was completely shirtless, his fly clearly unzipped, and a brunette held tight in his arms. The girl glared at Natti. She struggled a little against the boy’s grasp, trying to cover herself with her bra.
Natti blinked in complete shock. “Okay.” She finally glanced at the empty room. “This is obviously not American Literature.”
“No duh!” the brunette snapped.
The young man smiled and turned to the girl in his arms. The brunette’s cold demeanor melted away once her eyes met his. He stroked her cheek, sending visible shivers through her body. Natti rolled her eyes, ready to gag.
“Now, now, Charlotte.” The honey-sweet voice made Natti freeze when she was just turning to leave. It gave her a dizzy feeling; a fog creeping at the back of her mind. “We shouldn’t be rude to our guest.” The boy’s eyes traveled Natti’s curves again. His grin widened. “Perhaps she’d like to join us. Maybe we can all get to know each other a little better.”