Bloodlines (Bloodlines, #1)(26)

As the morning progressed, Jill kept biting her lip and looking worriedly around. Maybe she was just nervous about immersing herself in a world populated entirely with humans. She didn’t seem at all concerned about the logistics of getting to the right rooms and completing work. That was the aspect that still scared me a little. Just get from one class to another, I told myself. That’s all you have to do.

My first class was ancient history. Eddie was in it too, and he practically ran me down when he saw me. “Is she okay? Have you seen her?”

“Well, we share a room, so yeah.” We sat down at neighboring desks. I smiled at Eddie. “Relax. She’s fine. She seemed nervous, but I can’t really blame her.”

He nodded but still looked uncertain. He gave his full attention to the front of the room when the teacher stepped up, but there was a restlessness about Eddie as he sat there, like he could just barely stop himself from springing up to go check on Jill.

“Welcome, welcome.” Our instructor was a forty-something woman with white-streaked, wiry black hair and enough nervous energy to rival Eddie—and if her giant coffee cup was any indication, it wasn’t hard to figure out why. I was also a little jealous and wished we were allowed to have beverages in class—particularly since the dorm cafeteria didn’t serve coffee. I didn’t know how I was going to survive the next few months with caffeine-free days. Her wardrobe favored argyle. “I am Ms. Terwilliger, your illustrious guide on the wondrous journey that is ancient history.” She spoke in a sweeping, grandiose voice that made a few of my classmates break into snickers. She gestured to a young man who’d been sitting behind her, near the large desk. He’d been watching the class with a bored expression, but when she turned to him, he perked up. “And this is my co-guide, Trey, whom I believe some of you may know. Trey is my student aide for this period, so he’ll mostly be skulking in corners and filing papers. But you should be nice to him since he may very well be the one entering your grades into my computer.”

Trey gave a small wave and grinned at some of his friends. He had deeply tanned skin and black hair whose length flirted with the dress code’s rules. The neatly pressed Amberwood uniform gave him the illusion of all business, but there was a mischievous glint in his dark eyes that made me think he didn’t really take being an aide seriously.

“Now,” continued Ms. Terwilliger. “History is important because it teaches us about the past. And by learning about the past, you come to understand the present, so that you may make educated decisions about the future.”

She paused dramatically to let those words sink in. Once she was convinced we were awed, she moved over to a laptop that was wired up to a projector. She pushed a few keys, and an image of a white-pillared building appeared on the screen at the front of the room.

“Now, then. Can anyone tell me what this is?”

“A temple?” someone called out.

“Very good, Mr.—?”

“Robinson,” the boy supplied.

Ms. Terwilliger produced a clipboard and scanned a list. “Ah, there you are. Robinson. Stephanie.”

“Stephan,” corrected the boy, flushing as some of his friends giggled.

Ms. Terwilliger pushed her glasses up her nose and squinted. “So you are. Thank goodness. I was just thinking how difficult your life must be with such a name. My apologies. I broke my glasses in a freak croquet accident this weekend, forcing me to bring my old ones today. So, Stephan-not-Stephanie, you’re correct. It’s a temple. Can you be more specific?”

Stephan shook his head.

“Can anyone else offer any insight?”

When only silence met Ms. Terwilliger, I took a deep breath and raised my hand. Time to see what it was like to be a real student. She nodded toward me.

“It’s the Parthenon, ma’am.”

“Indeed it is,” she said. “And your name is?”

“Sydney.”

“Sydney . . .” She checked the clipboard and looked up in astonishment. “Sydney Melbourne? My goodness. You don’t sound Australian.”

“Er, it’s Sydney Melrose, ma’am,” I corrected.

Ms. Terwilliger scowled and handed the clipboard to Trey, who seemed to think my name was the funniest thing ever. “You take over, Mr. Juarez. Your youthful eyes are better than mine. If I keep at this, I’ll keep turning boys into girls and perfectly nice young ladies into the descendants of criminals. So.” Ms. Terwilliger focused back on me. “The Parthenon. Do you know anything about it?”

The others were watching me, mostly with friendly curiosity, but I still felt the pressure of being the center of attention. Focusing solely on Ms. Terwilliger, I said, “It’s part of the Acropolis, ma’am. In Athens. It was built in the fifth century BC.”

“No need to call me ‘ma’am,‘” Ms. Terwilliger told me. “Though it is refreshing to get a bit of respect for a change. And brilliantly answered.”

She glanced over the rest of the room. “Now, tell me this. Why on earth should we care about Athens or anything that took place over fifteen hundred years ago? How can that be relevant to us today?”

More silence and shifting eyes. When the unbearable quiet dragged on for what felt like hours, I started to raise my hand again. Ms. Terwilliger didn’t notice and glanced back at Trey, who was resting his feet on the teacher’s desk. The boy instantly dropped his legs and straightened up.