up...something.
The constant click-clacking from Corrine and Bree’s laptops was driving Eva crazy, but she couldn’t do anything about it. Instead she sat at her desk, looking over her thick school books—Geometry, Biology, English Composition and Literature, World History, Art, and Spanish. The Spanish would be easy, being from Miami, and friends with Soledad Morales, descendant of Cuban exiles. Eva knew Spanish very well. It was a guaranteed A.
She looked over her schedule to see which books she had to take with her tomorrow, Monday, the first day of classes. From eight to ten, she had Geometry, and then from ten to twelve, she had Biology. However, after an hour lunch, they all had to attend a mandatory therapy session. The Banshees met in a separate room from the Leprechauns, with a series of rotating professors—female for the girls, and male for the boys—to help them with their…abilities.
Eva didn’t know how she felt about these therapy sessions, which didn’t have a definite end time, so they could last all day. From her time at the psychiatric hospital, she and the other patients would sit in a circle of chairs while Dr. Lang had a “chat” with them. Some of the statements from the other teenagers were downright scary and the rest were tragically sad, but she didn’t believe she belonged there. She really saw people die. She wasn’t hallucinating. Now she was at a place that accepted her, because there were others just like her—Banshees.
She still couldn’t wrap her head around the history of Banshees, Leprechauns, and everything else. It was like she was in a dream. She tugged at her long black hair to make sure she wasn’t off in La-La Land. It hurt and she knew everything was real. She smiled. Yes, it was real, and she had new friends who understood her, and a guy who maybe was in love with her—one who eased her sorrow. Life was…perfect. For now.
Meg left the bathroom with her night shirt on. Her hair had been blown dry and was frizzy like a clown’s wig. She turned to Corrine. “I tried to save you some cold water.” The redhead narrowed her eyes at Bree, who just ignored her, and continued to type.
Corrine gave a mock smile. “Thanks,” she said, and then closed the bathroom door.
Soon, she was out, and Eva went in next. She would shower in the morning, but now she needed to wash her face and brush her teeth. The bathroom had white-tiled walls, and a green rug to match the shamrock-patterned shower curtain. Even the taps to the sink had green shamrocks for handles. There was a small wooden table that had a green plastic tote on top with Eva’s name on it. Inside was everything she would need for the bathroom: shampoo, soap, razors, deodorant, feminine products, a toothbrush and tube of toothpaste, hairbrush, comb, barrettes, elastic bands, and even makeup. Given her time in the psychiatric hospital, she felt like she had won the lottery—if they were awarding toiletries for prizes.
She changed into her borrowed pajamas, and placed her own outfit that she’d worn that day in the green hamper with her name on it by the door. She washed her face with a gentle soap and brushed her teeth. As she looked at herself in the mirror, she decided to brush her hair with the new one provided, and as each set of bristles ran through her strands of hair, she felt renewed. She placed everything neatly back in her tote and left it in the bathroom.
When she walked out, Eva glanced at Corrine’s laptop that was now on her desk, and noticed it was ten o’clock. Apparently, the headmaster didn’t enforce “lights out.” She wondered what the Leprechauns were up to.
Smoking. Arm wrestling. Late night jam sessions.
Her thoughts focused on Lucas, beating wooden sticks against a set of drums, rocking out. Then Liam and Finn, their fingertips flying across the strings of their guitars, and finally Devin, at the microphone, playing along on his guitar, singing some cool song about life being
The constant click-clacking from Corrine and Bree’s laptops was driving Eva crazy, but she couldn’t do anything about it. Instead she sat at her desk, looking over her thick school books—Geometry, Biology, English Composition and Literature, World History, Art, and Spanish. The Spanish would be easy, being from Miami, and friends with Soledad Morales, descendant of Cuban exiles. Eva knew Spanish very well. It was a guaranteed A.
She looked over her schedule to see which books she had to take with her tomorrow, Monday, the first day of classes. From eight to ten, she had Geometry, and then from ten to twelve, she had Biology. However, after an hour lunch, they all had to attend a mandatory therapy session. The Banshees met in a separate room from the Leprechauns, with a series of rotating professors—female for the girls, and male for the boys—to help them with their…abilities.
Eva didn’t know how she felt about these therapy sessions, which didn’t have a definite end time, so they could last all day. From her time at the psychiatric hospital, she and the other patients would sit in a circle of chairs while Dr. Lang had a “chat” with them. Some of the statements from the other teenagers were downright scary and the rest were tragically sad, but she didn’t believe she belonged there. She really saw people die. She wasn’t hallucinating. Now she was at a place that accepted her, because there were others just like her—Banshees.
She still couldn’t wrap her head around the history of Banshees, Leprechauns, and everything else. It was like she was in a dream. She tugged at her long black hair to make sure she wasn’t off in La-La Land. It hurt and she knew everything was real. She smiled. Yes, it was real, and she had new friends who understood her, and a guy who maybe was in love with her—one who eased her sorrow. Life was…perfect. For now.
Meg left the bathroom with her night shirt on. Her hair had been blown dry and was frizzy like a clown’s wig. She turned to Corrine. “I tried to save you some cold water.” The redhead narrowed her eyes at Bree, who just ignored her, and continued to type.
Corrine gave a mock smile. “Thanks,” she said, and then closed the bathroom door.
Soon, she was out, and Eva went in next. She would shower in the morning, but now she needed to wash her face and brush her teeth. The bathroom had white-tiled walls, and a green rug to match the shamrock-patterned shower curtain. Even the taps to the sink had green shamrocks for handles. There was a small wooden table that had a green plastic tote on top with Eva’s name on it. Inside was everything she would need for the bathroom: shampoo, soap, razors, deodorant, feminine products, a toothbrush and tube of toothpaste, hairbrush, comb, barrettes, elastic bands, and even makeup. Given her time in the psychiatric hospital, she felt like she had won the lottery—if they were awarding toiletries for prizes.
She changed into her borrowed pajamas, and placed her own outfit that she’d worn that day in the green hamper with her name on it by the door. She washed her face with a gentle soap and brushed her teeth. As she looked at herself in the mirror, she decided to brush her hair with the new one provided, and as each set of bristles ran through her strands of hair, she felt renewed. She placed everything neatly back in her tote and left it in the bathroom.
When she walked out, Eva glanced at Corrine’s laptop that was now on her desk, and noticed it was ten o’clock. Apparently, the headmaster didn’t enforce “lights out.” She wondered what the Leprechauns were up to.
Smoking. Arm wrestling. Late night jam sessions.
Her thoughts focused on Lucas, beating wooden sticks against a set of drums, rocking out. Then Liam and Finn, their fingertips flying across the strings of their guitars, and finally Devin, at the microphone, playing along on his guitar, singing some cool song about life being
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