Legends of Mirandis Academy

Chapter 5: The Delicate Art of Distraction

Iridia had been sitting with Duran, sometimes. During classes they happened to have together or before school when they were waiting for the morning bell to ring. Not during lunch, though—Duran sat with his wrestling teammates, and when he searched the cafeteria, Duran couldn't even spot her. But sometimes, he watched her make some clever bauble, and then she gave it to Nibbles to play with. Iridia was quiet, and Duran was quiet too. They didn't need to speak. It was nice.

A week went by, and the leaves turned yellow, and the air buzzed with excitement. The fall semester sports were picking up the pace. Mirandis Academy's football team destroyed Arda Midhair Catholic School in their first match; Duran heard all about it from Samson and his brothers. The archery team, in spite of a brief suspension due to a mishap at one of their practices, had managed a narrow victory over Gloomshade Magnet School. The track team, in contrast, had been defeated by Fenn Technical High, and apparently by only a fraction of a point. Joy and despair mingled in the hallways, like the smells of cologne and sweat.

It was a Friday. The class after lunch had been replaced with a pep rally. Duran might have forgotten, but it seemed like everyone in the school was talking about it. In the cafeteria, Samson and his other friends were boisterous, shouting and elbowing one another. Someone nearly knocked Duran's tray off the table during an arm wrestling match. Duran tried to laugh with them, but sometimes he didn't understand the jokes. Mostly, he sat to one side and fed Nibbles some peanuts.

When it came time, Duran was swept along in a crowd of students. He could see where he was going—everybody else was shorter than him—but he could scarcely control the direction. He kept bumping into people. He would apologize, but it wasn't clear if he hurt anyone; before he could check, he was jostled along to an entirely new place in the crowd. The general destination was the gymnasium. It was anything but a straight path.

As Duran entered the gym, Nibbles crawled under his shirt and hid. Duran wished that he could do the same. An array of industrial lights blazed down on the polished floor, which, though normally empty, was now thronging with students. The gym court was surrounded on four sides by wooden bleachers, which were rapidly filling. Freshmen in the north, seniors in the south, juniors in the west, sophomores in the east. Duran suspected that most of his classmates would not actually know where north was were it not for a massive flag on the far wall simply marked with an 'N.'

A couple of freshmen pushed roughly past Duran, engaged in frenetic conversation. He caught snatches of speech here and there: emphatic stories, whispered rumors, sarcastic quips. Already, the breath of a thousand people was heating the space. Duran sweated in his button-down and fought the urge to put his hands over his ears. He managed to navigate to the stairs of the west bleachers, and climbed hard until he was at the very back.

Duran usually sat in the back. Then he didn't have to worry about blocking anyone.

Presently, he caught sight of a familiar blonde figure. Iridia was huddled over a piece of equipment, utterly oblivious to the outside world as per usual. So oblivious, in fact, that Duran had to tap her shoulder to get her attention. The face that looked up was so hostile that Duran stumbled back. He would have fallen, but Iridia's hand darted out and, with surprising strength, she pulled him upright.

"Duran! Sorry. I didn't know it was you."

She didn't look as unfriendly now. "Can I sit with you?" Duran said, tapping his fingers together.

"Yeah." She scooted over, in spite of the protests of the neighboring juniors—she whipped her head to them and glared, and they quieted. Then she returned to her tinkering, and they returned to their chattering as if she'd never looked their way.

The deafening rush of the gym was still upon him from the front, but at least there was this tiny pocket of quiet. Duran pressed his back against the wall, relishing the cool surface. If he shut his eyes, he could imagine that the noise was just the rush of a waterfall. A very loud waterfall. A very loud waterfall, saying: