The Academy (Part 2 of the Syndicate Series)

Chapter 2- The Engagement

Rosine:

My sister had a weird sense of humor. The dress she had put on my bed was a deep rose red, with the flower itself embroidered along the bottom. It wasn't even mine, so I really had no clue why my sister had a dress with my namesake all over it. With a silky layer on top and a nice flared look that wouldn't make me uncomfortable, even I couldn't hate it. The push up bra that she had tucked on the edge of the hanger, however, I could hate.

"Like hell," I muttered, pulling the strap and slingshotting it across the room so that it disappeared behind my bed. I didn't mind dresses, but my sister did that to piss me off. She knew that I hated the feeling of underwire digging into my chest.

If my father had his way, Belle would sit me down and do my makeup to the nines. She would turn me into a piece of art, which she was admirably good at. She was great at painting and drawing, and when he put her mind to it, the face was just another type of canvas for her. But I was in a rush and I wasn't very good at sitting still for long, so I just showered, threw on the dress, and swiped a little mascara across my eyes.

Out of habit, I ran my thumb against the inside of my fourth finger on my right hand, freezing when I didn't feel my ring there. It always gave me a minor heart attack when I didn't feel it, but I remembered that I stuck it in my gym bag before I strapped my gloves on. It wasn't likely to get damaged, but I couldn't risk it- the ring was the one thing of my mother's that I had.

The sapphire surrounded by a rose design was a part of a set that she had before she died, a beautiful necklace went with it. Belle had the other piece, but it was really a miracle that either of us had them- my father was not a sentimental man, and merely weeks after she died, he had gotten rid of almost everything she owned. Uncle Claude had snuck these out, holding onto them until our sixteenth birthdays when he thought we would be able to appreciate them. I wore mine every day, so did Belle, and I never risked damaging it.

I rummaged through my bag until it was back on my finger and my heart could finally calm down. My hair was still damp as I ran my fingers through it, but whatever stingy old man my father had coming over for dinner would just have to deal with it.

The alarm on my phone went off, telling me that I needed to head towards the dining room. It was the only way I could ever keep myself on schedule. I scooped Belle's shoes from the floor, hopping on one foot down the massive hallway until I reached Blaise's door. I used my special knock to let him know I was there. We had each been using Depeche Mode songs for years to let each other know who it was. We had found one of their albums in a pile one day, and ever since then, my knock was the rhythm to 'Personal Jesus' and his was 'A Pain that I'm Used To'.

"Rosie, do you know where my-" He cut himself off as he opened the door and saw me standing there. "You look.... Different. I was wondering if you know where my bow tie is? I don't remember where I put it."

"Oh, I put it in your closet on the shelf when we were unpacking your suitcases," I reminded him, hurrying across his messy room to find it. When he had come back from his last trip, he had been suffering from jet lag so I helped him get settled back in.

He sighed in relief, "You know me better than I know myself."

"No, I just put it up last," I laughed, tossing it at him.

He looked at his Rolex and swore, "Damn it, we're going to be late."

"I'm pretty sure that Belle told us it was 15 minutes earlier than it really is, because she knew we would be running late."

"Thank God one of you can plan ahead."

"Hey, I can plan ahead," I defended myself, pulling the other heel on finally. "When I actually care about what's happening."