After Dusk

Chapter Nine

I wake up to the sound of a blow drier being turned on. Groaning, I rub the sleep from my eyes and sit up. There's no use trying to sleep now. The annoying sound cuts off and Amora walks out of the bathroom, blow drier in hand.

"Well, good morning, sleepyhead," she chuckles, unaffected by my sour mood. "Your school uniform is in the closet."

I sit straight up, wide awake. Did she just say what I think she just said?

"Uniform?"

Amora gives me an amused look, rolling her eyes at my obvious horror. I've gone to public school all my life, uniforms have definitely never factored into my life. If these are as horrible as I've heard uniforms can be, I'm going to riot. Plus, demigods in uniforms sounds ridiculous. 

"Yes, Laila, uniform," she says, walking back into the bathroom. "Hurry up, we don't want to be late for first hour."

Sighing, I glance over to where Beauty lounges on Amora's bed.

"You are so lucky that you don't have to wear a uniform." I tell her grumpily. I swear to the gods that the damn thing smirks at me.

I go to the closet with a grunt and grab my uniform, a little taken aback. Amora failed to mention that the only "uniform" we have to wear to class is a black jacket with a laurel stitched into the breast in blue. I shoot an exasperated look at the closed bathroom door. Way to get me all upset for nothing, Amora! Figuring that I might as well get dressed while I'm in the closet, I slip on a pair of black shorts and a sleeveless, white button up top. I put the jacket on over that and add a simple necklace and a pair of black sneakers. There, I think proudly, I look decent enough.

Amora unlocks the bathroom door so that I can finish getting ready alongside her. I get to work on my mane of dark hair as Amora explains that each type of demigod has a different color and symbol stitched onto their jackets. The Greeks have a blue laurel, Celtics have a green five fold knot, the Egyptians have a gold ankh, the Romans have a yellow labyrinth, the Polynesians have a red sun  and the Norse have a white triple horn of Odin sewn into their jackets. I try to remember each symbol and color but I fail miserably. I don't even know what a triple-whatever of Odin is, let alone be able to recognize it sewn onto a demigod's jacket.

After a good fifteen minutes of trying to straighten out my annoyingly soft curls, I give up and tie it up in another ponytail. Normally, I would have loved to have hair like this -I'd always complained that my hair was too straight- but I don't want it if it's going to be a constant reminder of how much has changed in my life.

 A knock sounds at the door, pulling me away from my hair related thoughts. I run over and open it, revealing a smiling Seraphina, who, I note, is wearing a jacket also, with a red sun stitched into the breast pocket.

Tossing me an apple, she says, "I'm here to escort you to History."

Patting Beauty, who'd decided that she might be okay with my existence, on the head, I call out a good bye to Amora. I grab my backpack and follow Seraphina out the door. As we walk down the halls, I notice that she has the habit of randomly sparking fire on her fingertips. I don't even think she notices it: it just happens. It's actually kind of fascinating to watch. 

We finish our apples as we walk to the main building where Declan had taken me my first night here. Throwing away the apple cores in the cafeteria, we catch the elevator and ride up to the third floor. All the while, I stare up at the red light that announces what floor we're on nervously. I can't help but to be nervous. I have no idea what to expect from these demigod classes. The only exposure to the mythological world that I've had is my boredom induced internet searches and the occasional book with references to mythology. There's no way in hell I'm going to survive these classes, especially Defense. I've no time to prepare for this new class experience, because the elevator dings and the doors slide open. Seraphina wastes no time in shoving me through them.