NEWBORN: Book One of the Newborn Trilogy (10 page)

I’m also enjoying the fact my head has
cleared up, my headache dissipated even as my stomach twists
painfully. The one good thing about hangovers is they eventually
wear off. I’m also pleased how light my backpack is. Seems every
time I put it down I forget and I’m delighted when I pick it up
again.

The real treat today is lying on my desk
unplugged. My iPad will be ready to play with. I don’t know what
I’ll do first – download apps, buy songs, watch a movie, read a
book, buy shit on eBay – there are so many possibilities. It’s this
generation’s airplane.

I’m glad I have my iPad to look forward to
given the thrashing I got in English 103. True, I was the scapegoat
and Dr. James wanted to make a point, but he didn’t have to do that
absurd introduction. With my hangover, anxiety, and procrastinated
homework, I didn’t need more problems today.

Geez, I didn’t even shower today.

Oh well
, my alter ego says.
Hey,
you have a shiny gadget waiting for you!

True
, I respond,
I do
.

Soon I’m back in my dorm and doing what I can
to shake off the water. I don’t get far before I’m distracted by
it
– the gadget of all gadgets lying new and fully charged
on my desk. Oh my – it’s so pretty! Dropping my weightless
backpack, I sit down at my desk and reach for the iPad
hungrily.

Switching it on, I wait as the logo flashes
and the registration page comes up. I put in my information
impatiently, desperate to get to the main page. This is so
exciting! Now I really have an excuse not to study. Drinking was
just a place holder until this baby got unwrapped. I’m there – at
the main page. It’s so pretty and shiny. What should I do first? I
have so many options!

I decide to read a book. Being an English
major, this seems a logical first choice. Going to the iTunes
library, I browse for popular titles. Same old stuff here for the
most part. I switch to the classics section:
All Quiet on the
Western Front
,
Huckleberry Finn
,
For Whom the Bell
Tolls
,
Jane Eyre
,
Black Beauty
,
The Invisible
Man
,
The Adventures of Augie March
,
Moby Dick
,
My Antonia
,
Gone With the Wind
,
Lolita
,
The
Great Gatsby
… hang on,
The Great Gatsby
!
Gatsby
is here!

I don’t understand why this makes me so
excited but it does.
The Great Gatsby
. Here! In the iTunes
library. I realize I must download it. Now. No more deliberation,
no more hesitation. I must have it. Pressing the screen, I click
‘buy’ and wait for it to download. It enters the purchases section
under books and the iPad lets me know its download status with a
progress bar.

It finishes.

I press to open the book. Part of me is
thinking I should put the iPad down for awhile, but I know I can’t.
It’s too cool – too addicting. I just can’t get enough. Flipping to
the first page of
Gatsby
, I begin to read.

I’m wrapped in the story. It’s been so long
since I read it I forgot how good it is. This is so much better
than I remember!

I find myself reveling in descriptions of the
characters, of Gatsby – the wanna-be aristocrat, Nick – the
conflicted moral narrator, and Tom – having reached perfection so
early in life, nothing else measures up and everything is dull in
comparison. Before I know it I’ve finished chapters one and two and
I’m rolling through three. Just chapter two is assigned for next
class, but I don’t care. I’m enjoying myself too much to quit.

Reading on the iPad is so much better than
reading an actual book. How have I never done this before? I must
have been crazy. I keep reading until I hear a key in the lock and
Kiri lets herself into the room.

“Hi roomie,” she says, trailing her cello.
“What’s down?”

My eyes are having difficulty leaving the
shiny screen. “Not much.”

“It’s on!” Kiri exclaims as she gazes at the
iPad. “We must surrender to the superiority of this modern, alien
technology!”

I giggle despite myself and with effort
finally wrench my attention from the screen. Switching off the
iPad, I put it on my desk. “Nothing too modern. I’m reading
The
Great Gatsby
. Studying, actually.”

Eyebrows rise. “Studying? You get an iPad and
the first thing you do is study? You’re the alien, Nora.” Stowing
her cello beside her bed, she turns to face me again. “Have you had
a good day?”

I think of Dr. James’ harassment. I don’t
want to sound too whiny to a new friend, but that’s what friends
do. Share. So I tell her what happened – about my not doing the
homework and then getting called out. She manages to look
surprisingly not guilty as I describe my hangover and why the
homework didn’t get done.

“What an asshole!” Kiri says after I
paraphrase what Dr. James said. “You don’t want a jerk like that
around when it’s time for grades. We’re still in the drop/add
period, Nora. You might consider it.”

Sighing, I stare out the window into the
cloudy sky, still drizzling with commendably wet tenacity. “I don’t
know. If I switch I’ll be behind in some other class and I will
have to find the textbook. I think I’ll sit tight with Dr. James
and see what happens. Though I bet he’ll have it out for me
now.”

“He will,” Kiri says. “Hey, want to go to
dinner?”

I close my eyes and think about it, but as
soon as I do I feel my stomach twist painfully. Food won’t be
happening tonight. “No thanks,” I tell her. “I haven’t been feeling
well since I arrived. I don’t know what’s wrong. Dad says it’s
anxiety. I haven’t been able to eat anything. Maybe I should see a
doctor.”

“You should,” Kiri tells me. “Soon.”

* * *

Next day I awake in panic, certain I’ve slept
through class. My eyes dart for the alarm clock and I breathe a
sigh of relief. I have plenty of time. Geez, it’s so tempting to go
back to sleep. But I know I can’t. With a heave, I lift myself from
bed and make my way to the bathroom.

Kiri – as usual – is gone.

For unflattering reasons it’s been two days
since I took a shower. It won’t be three. Putting in my contacts, I
gaze with satisfaction at my dulled eyes, their bizarre brightness
compromised by the lenses. I take a long, luxuriating shower,
allowing the hot water to caress me and wipe away memories of
yesterday.

Clean, I towel off and get dressed. In jeans
and a flowery camisole I look like summer. Drying my hair out in
the bathroom does the trick. Clean and cute, I begin to feel better
about everything, even while my stomach pains me. After applying
perfume I grab my weightless backpack and I’m out the door, but not
before I’ve stuffed my iPad in alongside my books and notes for
class.

I glance guiltily at the dining hall as I
pass it on my way to Red Square. I’ve had two meals in four days.
One with Gabriel and one alone. I wonder if they keep track of
students who aren’t eating. I bet it’s only a matter of time before
the anorexia police come knocking. I hope they understand. It’s not
that I don’t
want
to eat – it’s that I can’t! Physically
can’t. If I do, bad things will happen.

Walking into the English 301 classroom I see
Wolf sitting in the same seat as last time. Bizarre – somehow he
slipped my mind. Revelations about one Gabriel White had driven the
muscular, russet-skinned boy from my thoughts. In my defense I just
learned that wizards exist. That’s kind of big. I take my seat next
to Wolf and grin disarmingly over at him. I feel ecstatic all of a
sudden.

“What’s up with you?” Wolf asks.

My grin dissipates in surprise. “What do you
mean?”

“You look different today,” he muses, his
black eyes thoughtful. “Changed.”

I pull a hair band from my pocket before
affixing my hair into a neat ponytail. I can’t help but notice Wolf
watching me with interest. Our eyes meet and I blush, although he
does too.

“I love watching girls put their hair up,”
Wolf says matter-of-factly. “The way you do it seems so intricate,
so overcomplicated. Yet every girl out there does it perfectly.
It’s fascinating.”

“If you say so,” I giggle.

“Morning class,” Dr. Tuten says to the room
at large. “I hope you enjoyed your single homework-free day till
the end of term.” There’s a collective groan. Dr. Tuten shakes his
head. “I’m exaggerating, but you will have an essay due each week.
How could you not? This is an essay writing class!”

“We have to write essays in here?” Wolf says
in outrage. “I’m dropping!”

I giggle uncontrollably this time, unable to
stop myself.

“Show of hands,” Dr. Tuten begins, “who likes
to work in teams?” Four out of twenty plus students raise their
hands. “That is typical,” Dr. Tuten adds. “But you
must
learn to work in teams. Life – when you think about it – is all
about teams. Your family is a team, your marriage is a team, your
relationships are teams, your corporations are teams, and your
country is a team. Acquiring team skills is not only necessary but
vital to success. I will require you to work in teams today. Two to
an essay – there are twenty-five of you so the straggler gets to
work with me. I expect thirteen essays by the end of class. You
have an hour and fifteen minutes. Begin!”

I turn to Wolf. “Want to be a team?”

“I was going to ask you,” Wolf says.

“Too late,” I say despondently, but hiding a
grin, “I asked first. In or out?”

Wolf grins, his very white teeth contrasting
gorgeously against russet skin and full, maroon lips. “I’m in,” he
says. “But perhaps I should find an essay mate who understands the
intricacies of communication!”

The audacity of his words!

“Fine,” I say, faking wonderfully. “Find
somebody else. Fail the essay assignment, which you will because
you hate writing essays so much. See if I care. Don’t come crawling
back for my help next time he assigns teamwork.”

Wolf arranges his face into such an adorable
expression I can’t help but grin, despite my trying so hard to keep
a straight face. “I was just testing your backbone, Nora,” he says.
“No need to get upset. It seems everyone else has already found a
mate, so now we’re stuck with each other.”

“Lucky you,” I tell him.

Wolf nods once. “Lucky me.”

He’s so cute! I’m so happy he’s with me!

Black eyes light my insides. “What should we
write about?”

I’m trying not to look enraptured. I’m
failing. “I’m not sure,” I say. “Not really in the essay writing
mood right now.”

“Now you know how I always feel.”

“I told you to switch majors,” I remind
him.

He’s frowning. “I told you I can’t do
anything else.”

“You’re only taking one class,” I rebut.

“Yup,” he agrees, “what’s your point?”

Sighing, I gaze out the window. The sky is
cloudy and dark, the drizzling rain so common in this part of the
world seeming ready to pour at any second, unexpected, elusive,
devious in its timing. Looking around the room, it strikes me that
every other team is knee deep in their essay.

“Why don’t we write about –” I start.

“Werewolves!” he finishes, black eyes staring
at me hard. “Why don’t we write about werewolves?”

“Werewolves?” I repeat in confusion.
What
the fuck?
“I was going to say iPads. I don’t know anything
about werewolves.”

“I do,” Wolf says. “You can be my scribe.
I’ll talk and you write.”

“But –” I begin.

“We’re already behind,” Wolf says, gesturing
to the class at large, most of who are paragraphs into their
essays. “If we don’t get started we won’t finish and Tuten will
give us a zero for the day.”

Shaking my head, I gesture my surrender.
Opening my backpack, I pull pen and paper from inside.

“Don’t you have a computer?” Wolf asks. “This
is the 21st century.”

“Yes, I know,” I answer gratingly. “I don’t
have a laptop with me, no. I
do
have an iPad. A brand new
iPad.”

“An iPad? Awesome! Pull that out.”

I grimace and shake my head. “I’ve tried
typing on its keyboard,” I whine, “it’s misery. It’s okay for short
stuff – like a poem or a cover letter – but daunting for an essay.
Pen and paper will do.”

“If you say so,” Wolf says. “Ready?”

Aligning the page on my desk, I write my name
at the top. If he’s nice to me I will consider adding his name,
too. “Go ahead.”

“Title,” Wolfgang states, “
Werewolves: the
Sworn Protectors
.”

Writing this across the top of the page, I
try hard not to smile. What a disaster my imagination is becoming.
Wizards, vampires, werewolves? What’s next? Zombies? The funny
thing is everything seems possible now. But probably not to the
professor. This paper is bound to fail.

“Done,” I tell him.

Wolf nods his acknowledgement. “Good –
opening paragraph: Werewolves, often considered a menace to the
safety of mankind, are in fact a breed of very ancient and sworn
protectors of the human race. Our –
their –
aim is not to be
the menace to human society, but to extinguish it. For werewolves
notwithstanding, there exists a real threat to the safety and
security of human beings.”

“This is a joke, right?”

Wolf frowns deeply. “No,” he states. “We –
they
– exist!”

“I don’t believe you,” I tell him, half
lying. I sort of do believe him. After meeting Gabriel, a lot I
considered impossible seems possible, as though a fairytale world
revealed itself to me. Werewolves seem no more farfetched than
wizards or vampires. I am an easy believer these days.

“I don’t care if you don’t believe me,” he
says. “Write!”

“Next paragraph?”