Dagwood Academy

9. Hard Work

At dinner, Waverly received a basic schedule that reveled little information to explain what the heck she had just seen back in the desert. She sat next to Winnie, both hoping for a room assignment together but were crushed when they were both assigned to room with others. Waverly had been so tired she barely dragged in her luggage and fell asleep almost immediately after changing into pajamas.

She woke with the sun and roosters the next morning. If that wasn't enough to force her eyes open, a bell soon rang and she was reminded of that one year she tried sleep away summer camp and only made it two weeks before she called her dad for early pick up.

"Oh my god. If that is going to happen every morning you can just shoot me now," Delphine moaned and rolled over onto her back. She lifted up her satin pink night mask with jeweled letters spelling out "WHAT?"

"If only," Waverly mumbled as she rolled out of bed, casting a glance at her new room mate for the semester.

By the time she had finished her morning routine Delphine had just drawn the blanket back on her bed and kicked her feet out. She had her phone hovering in front of her face, night mask still strapped against her forehead, and her fingers typing faster than Waverly had ever seen.

"You get service here?" Waverly asked, brushing out the knots in her hair. Her phone hadn't connected to any signal at all since the taxi left the city. Here she was, thinking every school had wifi, but then again she wouldn't classify Dagwood as a school, never mind an Academy.

"Nope," said Delphine without looking over.

"Who are you texting, then?"

Delphine sighed, dropped her phone face down onto her chest and rolled her eyes up at Waverly. "I'm drafting future texts. For you know, when they finally give us the WiFi password."

"I don't th-"

"And I don't think I want to hear you talk anymore," Delphine said with a sweet voice and a smile that matched. She waved one hand, like a queen dismissing her jester, and took back to letting her fingers fly on the screen.

"Whatever," Waverly grumbled and stalked out of the room. She passed the door to the other apartment in the house and outside into the desert. The raw sunlight made her eyes squint and water. The heat was rising already and Waverly desperately wished she was closer to an outlet mall so she could buy an entirely new set of sweltering heat appropriate clothes.

"Good morning, Waverly," Dagwood called, waving one arm wide over his head. Waverly walked over to where he stood, feet away at the fire pit. She passed students bustling around carrying pots of water around pop up tables organized for preparation and service. She noticed Freeman yawning and chopping potatoes with a long chef knife and then sweeping the cubes into a pot beside him. The enticing smell of breakfast made Waverly's stomach rumble.

"It's all hands on deck here for breakfast. Our cabins will take turns arranging dinner and lunch, but breakfast, as it is my belief, should always be quick and hearty. It's good food for the soul, don't you think?"

"Uh, yeah. Definitely," said Waverly. "Hey so before I grab a knife and jump in, is there a phone where I can call my dad? I told him I'd call him when I got in, and he's probably just about worried sick."

A warm smile grew on Dagwood's face but Waverly thought it looked odd there. "No need for a phone. Mr. Willows was contacted last night by email to confirm your arrival and make him aware of the circumstances."

Waverly blinked.

"It's an automated process," Dagwood responded, as if those words easily explained everything.