The Book of Firsts

Two

The first period of my second day at Corascur, and the alphabet had set me up at a double desk in the dead centre of my new Home Room: 12-8. I’d arrived early, around the same time as my short blond desk mate, who introduced herself as Lania Nichols before being drawn off to the windows by friends to exclaim at being in the same form class.

Taking out my tablet, I explored the resources of the school website until a warning beep sounded over the intercom, about five minutes before the hour. The class quieted immediately, even though our teacher hadn’t yet arrived. Orientation had informed me that it was a strict rule of Corascur for the class to put itself in order when the warning sounded, and I reflected on the mixture of freedom and high expectation of my new school, and the likelihood of expulsion if caught indulging in sporting challenges in the student council’s private garden.

When Lania returned to our desk, I gave her a quick smile in return for her apologies, and glanced down at the picture currently displayed on my tablet.

"Are there no girls on the student council?"

"Six, including me," she said, and followed my gaze. "That’s just the executive. There’s ten people on the council this year. Even the Three Kings couldn’t manage everything Corascur gets into during the year."

"Three Kings?"

"No guesses why we call them that. They’ve had the title since they were new to the school. The early rumour was they were all royalty, but that’s not true. They’re just, well…" She flicked her fingers at the picture and said, almost disdainfully. "Resplendent."

The previous night I’d spent some time hunting through the school forums, and found plenty about these three boys. Rich, talented, smart. Considered equable when dealing with most people, but dangerous to cross. Inseparable. Above all, gorgeous.

The picture certainly showed them to advantage. Blazers buttoned and ties straight, they stood with Kyou at the forefront, arms folded and expression serious, with Rin and Bran a step back and to the sides. Rin was smiling with a gentle warmth that did not at all match the person I’d met, while Bran’s eyes were focused somewhere slightly above the camera, giving him the look of a mystic visionary. A sublime, otherworldly creature.

"So, they got in on their looks?" I asked, allowing a hint of disparagement to colour my voice.

"Oh, no. They’re the school’s top students as well. Not to mention excellent sportsmen, with a bucket of talent in the arts. They’re so overendowed with skills and graces they’re almost nauseating." Lania grinned. "Almost."

I remembered Kyou’s beautiful voice: Rin. It’s us.

"Better still, all of them are available this year," Lania continued. "Or, rather, word’s gone around that they’ve temporarily sworn off girls in favour of study. Naturally this has been interpreted as Open Season."

That was hardly surprising. I looked down at the picture again, conflicted. Despite my careless pose when Kyou first raised the idea, I still wasn’t sure I’d go through with it. It had never occurred to me to kiss someone I hadn’t established at least a friendship with, let alone try the rest of the things on that little numbered list.

But, like Bran, my imagination had been caught. Which of them would be the best kisser? Which would touch me in such a way that I would think them best? Would one be hot and hasty, another slow and careful? I wouldn’t even know, week to week, exactly which of them would come to the garden. The arrogance of that "It’s us" only added a piquancy, since I would be sitting in judgment on them. The Three Kings of the school, serving themselves up for my consideration.

Dangerous.

Delicious.

That afternoon I met my Home Room seatmate again.

"Mika—I didn’t realise you were planning on joining the Art Club!"

Lania, detaching herself from a handful of students gathered around some partially constructed canvas stretchers, came to greet me, and drew me back to the group.

"Mika’s new to Corascur," she explained. "Sits next to me in Home Room."

"Welcome to the Art Club," said the student who seemed to be in charge—a serious boy my own height, with blue dyed hair and unforgettable cheekbones. "I’m Carr. We’re just talking through what we need to produce this term. You’re familiar with the role of the Club?"

"Doing the backdrops for the Theatre Club, posters for events, and any incidental artwork requested?"

"That’s right. We work on school projects on Tuesday’s study break, and Wednesday after classes. The Friday afternoon session we work on personal pieces, except in the lead-up to the festival, or when there’s an urgent request. Today we’re starting our first task of the year: themed paintings to go with the Patron’s Lunch. Do you have a particular area of strength?"

"Construction," I said. "And illustrations of buildings."

"We need ten stretchers," he said. "So, construction sounds ideal just now."

Stretchers were a simple task. Saw bits of wood for a frame, glue and staple it together, and then staple canvas over it and prep it with a white base. As we worked, Lania made a string of introductions, which ran together into suenataschaseananikarick, and naturally I focused on the Anika part. The candidate Rin had ruled out. A petite girl, with neat brown hair and fabulous, enormous blue eyes, giving her calm expression an almost preternatural detachment. I wondered what her expression would be reading that list.

"Construction, huh?" asked the tallest of the boys, round-cheeked and sporting a bleached crewcut, who I think was the one called Rick. "You aiming to be an architect?"

"Civil engineer via an engineering physics degree," I said. "Though I’m also interested in design generally."

"What got you into that?"

"A bridge. One called Galloping Gertie." I smiled in response to the group’s bemusement. "The Tacoma Narrows Bridge in the US. It started twisting and bucking in the wind, and eventually collapsed. I saw a video, when I was around five, of a roadway of steel and concrete flapping like a piece of cloth. It didn’t seem possible."

"And so, an obsession was born?" Carr waved a piece of cut canvas thoughtfully. "There’s video? Could make a great theme work."

Stretcher building took a break in favour of watching YouTube, and I explained that one of the reasons I wanted to go to Helios University was not only because there were so many bridges in the city, but for the specific course overseen by the civil engineer who had designed the most recent of Helios' bridges.

"Can’t deny there’s countless bridges in Helios," Rick said. "Never thought it would be the reason to come study here, but to each their own, I guess."

"Speaking of obsessions…" Natascha, at the window, gestured to something below, and was immediately joined by Sue, Sean and Lania.

"There should be a law against them dressing like that," Sue groaned.

"I’d prefer a law requiring they dressed like that all the time." Sean leered in exaggerated appreciation.

I glanced at Carr, who rolled his eyes. "We need to get these done, people. If you want to join the Rowing Club, you’re free to do so."

"And get up at five in the morning? Not a chance." Sue lifted her phone and took a picture, then returned and showed it to me and Anika.

Three boys wearing only skin-tight hip to knee swimsuits, presumably on their way to their Rowing Club for some not-at-dawn practice. I only gave the image a brief look, but it was one to thoroughly imprint itself on the mind.

The number of times I thought about that picture while finishing off the stretchers started to concern me. I’m not a distractable person, nor normally so susceptible to a well-toned body. If even the idea of playing games with these boys had me so caught up, how would I manage for the rest of the year? The first challenges particularly seemed designed to leave all participants in a welter of unsatisfied lust. Would I be able to keep the Three Kings as a twice-a-week indulgence, or would they threaten my focus? I did not need, nor want, any new obsession.

Pushing the question aside, I turned to other considerations, and when Lania showed me where the supplies we’d been using should be stored I asked: "Do you know a quiet place to eat lunch? Preferably outside, somewhere sunny, with not a lot of students about?"

"Depends on what factions you’re in with."

"Faction? For lunch?"

"Corascur is, well, competitive. And competition means rivalries and factions and politics. The clubs you join can have a big impact because another thing we often end up competing for is resources and space to show off—and students. Not to mention the prime lunch areas, where there’s covered pavilions to use during wet weather. Most of the sports clubs use the grass, fences and tables under the trees that sit between the basketball courts and Sports One. The music-related clubs and the Broadcasting Club gravitate to the West Wood, which is not far from the auditorium. There are dozens of places that make nice lunch spots, but they’re all more or less someone’s territory, while the cafeteria is more neutral ground."

"Does the Art Club have a place to eat? Are we part of one of these factions?"

"Art Club in some ways is a resource—lots of the clubs ask us to do posters for them. But we’re nominally aligned with the Politics, Social and Newspaper Clubs, who all eat in the Herb Garden and the Rose Garden."

"Is that the same place as the Rose Court?"

"Ah, the Rose Court is a private club not a location. There was a period, thirty or so years ago, where the hottest girls in school were targeted in a kind of harassment campaign—they thought it was a student but it turned out to be one of the cafeteria staff. While it was going on, the girls banded together, watching each other’s backs, having their lunches at the Rose Pavilion, which is part of the Rose Garden, and using a buddy system after school. That became a tradition, and now it’s an invite-only Club." Lania made a face. "Tremendously exclusive."

"Is there nowhere that’s just a quiet, sunny place to have lunch and read, without making some sort of statement of allegiance?"

"Well, there’s lots of grounds. The further you go, the fewer people there’ll be."

"Yeah, if you’re willing to take a hike every lunch," Rick said, heaving the roll of canvas back into place.

"The library patio’s the best place, if all you want is to study while you eat," Carr said briskly, producing the storeroom key and shooing us out. "It’s popular, but there’s a strict rule of quiet. Just go early to make sure you snag a place to sit."

"Thanks, Carr," I said, and won myself a thoroughly charming smile.

"Clubs are meant to be a support unit as much as anything else. Don’t hesitate to come to us if you have a problem."

Collecting my bag on the way out, I paused by the windows and looked at the path leading down the gently sloping hill. Three boys were returning from the river, their swim suits replaced by tracksuits in the school’s blue and grey. Kyou and Rin were in the lead, with Rin talking and Kyou making apparently sarcastic responses. Bran followed, hands in pockets: a brooding fallen angel.

As if he knew I was there, he lifted his eyes and looked directly at the art room windows. His expression didn’t change, and I’m not altogether sure he could see me, but he kept his gaze fixed on the point I stood, until the path took him out of view.