The Darkest Swan

Chapter 2

I made a Spotify playlist for this book--link in bio!

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-𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓮𝓿𝓮-

I get an early start on the first day of classes, taking the long way to my Aunt's book store. She doesn't open till 7 on Mondays but I have a key, so it's not like it matters much. Besides she's used to me barging in before opening. It's a daily occurrence.

I ruffle through my bag, searching for that dang key and mumbling curse words when I can't find it.

I have to take a step back as the old rusty door flies open, making that familiar jingly sound with the wind chimes attached to it. My aunt is hard of hearing, and before she got her hearing aids she had no idea when or if customers were coming into the store or trying to get her attention, so she tied a multitude of wind chimes to the old door to make sure she could hear it, even if she was in the back or upstairs in her loft.

"You forgot that dang key again?" She laughs and pushes her glasses back up on her nose. Her gray-blonde hair glistens in the tiny amount of sunlight peeking through the clouds in the sky. She's dressed in her usual attire, a flimsy, brown skirt that extends all the way down to her 2-year-old slippers--that are surprisingly not falling apart at the seams. Her shirt is tie-dye hugging her torso like a glove and her hair is messy and untamed. She smells like essential oils and incense from a mile away.

I shrug. "It's the nerves."

She smiles tightly in sympathy, moving out of the way so I can come in.

Today is my first day at the academy and I'm not exactly handling it well.

"I know what will do the trick." She exclaims scurrying off to the backroom, probably retrieving some oils from her collection. She's really into that aromatherapy stuff.

I perch myself on one of the old green chairs, leaning my head back into the seat and breathing in deeply. I love the smell of old books. It's one of my only comforts these days.

The shelves here are overflowing and some of the stacks have gravitated to the floor. My aunt is a book hoarder, no doubt about it. She told me 'every book deserves a home' when I asked her to get rid of some of it to make room for new ones.

My aunt walks back into the main room, predictively she's got bottles of essential oils in her hands, ready and willing to needlessly help in the way she always does.

She dabs some on my wrist, it smells like roses and lavender and some other stuff I don't recognize.

"So..." She sighs. "You're really doing this." It's not a question, it's an observation, a slightly pained observation.

"Yes, I'm really doing this." I say assertively and confidently.

She smiles a tight smile filled with memories of my mom--her sister--and she takes my hands in hers. "Just, be careful."

I squeeze her hands in mine. "Don't worry." I taunt.

"How could I not?" She squeezes back.

"What happened to mom... Well, it isn't gonna happen to me, I promise okay?"

She shakes her head fondly. I'm not sure if she believes me, but it doesn't matter. It's never gonna happen, I'm not gonna turn out like my mom did, it's not even in the cards. I'm sure of it.

"She gave everything up for her career. Her friends, her family, even your father." My aunt says with all the emotion in the world. A reaction like this is rare for her but I know how horrible my mother was to her after she decided that her career was more important than anything else.

I clench my jaw trying to hide the anger bubbling up inside of me at the fact.

Just then, Tomas--one of my aunt's valued employees--shuffles inside the store taking off his aged leather jacket. His hair is dark and floppy and his posture is boyish and thin. He's one year younger than me and he still goes to the high school down the road from here.

"Hi, Miss. west." He greets my aunt. "Hey Gem." He says fondly.

My aunt Wanda shakes her head at the shy boy standing in the awning with a cup holder piled with three dark roast coffee cups.

She gets up from the chair opposite of me. "You didn't have to do that." My aunt remarks, adjusting her glasses back up on her nose. She stands in front of him, craning her neck just to make eye contact with him. He looks down at her endearingly, like she's a relative of his that he has no problem taking care of.

"I wanted to, Miss West." He says, probably getting deja vu, because we've heard this conversation 100 times before.

Tomas is just one of those really genuinely kind people. I can tell by the way he takes care of my aunt. He's always holding doors open for her. Closing for her when she's too tired to do it herself. And he never lets her pick up heavy piles of books. That's just Tomas. He's cool like that and especially rare.

She takes the cup holder from his hands pecking a soft kiss on his cheek. He smiles and it lights up the entire room.

"Hey, Tomas." I say as he plops down on the leather chair adjacent to mine, handing me the coffee.

"Dark roast, no sugar, extra cream." He repeats the mantra.

"Thank you." I kiss him softly on the cheek like my aunt did and he blushes shyly, averting his eyes.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Tomas slowly riffles through his backpack glancing back up at me, probably to make sure I didn't run away.

He pulls out an old, weathered copy of the 1978 swan lake performance, broadcasted right here, in New York at the academy and I practically gag on my coffee once I register what it is. I take my eyes away from the film, looking at Tomas.

"I- I knew you were looking for it." He explains. "So when I saw a copy of it up at that old film store in Westshore, I knew I had to get it for you." That's Thomas's thing. He likes old movies. He's pretty much the film geek of the century.

My lips turn up in a smile. "That's- I-" No words. I'm stunned. "That's so... well that's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me." I laugh in awe.

He smiles shyly, handing me the tape.

"How much. I'll pay you for it."

He shrugs. "Just get me a coffee or something."

"A coffee? You deserve so much more than a coffee. I mean, this had to of cost you a fortune, right?"

"Just forget it. It's on me."

"I'm not gonna forget this." I say, pulling him in for a hug.

He laughs and I feel it vibrate through my entire body. It's not an all-consuming hug, but I like it, it's like I'm hugging my big brother. It's safe.

We break off the hug as my aunt comes out of the storage room. "Has anyone seen my glasses? I'm at a loss for where I set them." She puts her finger to her upper lip.

"They're on your head, Aunt wanda."

"Oh snap." She mumbles before dragging her glasses onto her nose again. "Now where did I put my purse." She spins around wandering off into the storage room again.

"I better help her." Tomas says with a bit of humor to his tone.

"I've got to get going anyways." I grin at my crazy aunt.

"Oh hey, good luck... you know, first day and all." He comments before I can push the door open.

"Thanks, I'll need it."

"Lies." He says with his back turned to me. "You could do it with your eyes closed Gem." His voice trails off as he disappears into the break room.

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