Mikhail Crowne's Academy for the Gifted and Talented - Part Two

It was about an hour later that Anastasia, Clara, and her father Aloysha climbed into a limo and started their journey to Mikhail Crowne's Academy for the Gifted and Talented. Clara announced that she was driving, and Aloysha sat in the passenger seat next to her, so Anastasia got the back all to herself. She could see the truck full of her things following behind them, and for most of the ride to the academy she just watched out the window and daydreamed. The ride would be about two and a half hours long. 1

Suddenly she jumped, remembering her painting supplies. Had the maids packed them? Oh, she really hoped they did. Painting was one of her favorite little hobbies, and she didn't know what in the world she'd do with her spare time if she couldn't paint. Well, there was a painting program, perhaps they sold canvases and such at the school store she'd read about in the pamphlet? Even so, there was a nagging feeling in the back of her mind until they reached the school. 2

Towards the end of the trip, the limo had been driving down one long, straight, seemingly never-ending road for at least forty-five minutes when suddenly a green sign passed by the windows- “Mikhail Crowne's Academy for the Gifted and Talented- 10 miles”. Anastasia almost jumped. 10 miles! They were nearly there! 3

She suddenly had the instinct to gather her things together, only there were no things to gather, so she just sat tight and fidgeted, keeping her eyes wide open and her face as near to the window as it could get, wanting to see the school the very second that it was visible. 4

Then, suddenly, the trees parted, like the curtains opening at the theater, and Mikhail Crowne Academy, in all of its magnificent glory, was visible. 5

Anastasia could've melted with awe. The campus was huge. Directly in front of the main building was the most gigantic, ornate fountain Anastasia had ever seen in her entire life. It had mermaids, and faeries, and elves, and all sorts of mythical creatures; and it was at least six feet high, if not more, and fountains of water were spurting from all different directions. The fountain had many different types of flowers planted around it, and a brick sidewalk surrounded it, with four other sidewalks bifurcating from it- north, south, east, and west. North was the main building itself, the actual academy, which was large enough to make anyones' jaw drop. At six floors high, it was the biggest school Anastasia had ever seen. The southern path led to the parking lot, the eastern path led to the B Dorms, and the western path led to the Teachers' Dorms, also known as the C Dorms. Behind the main building, Anastasia could see another, smaller building, probably where they held the school auction and things like that. 6

The limo turned and pulled into the parking lot, where Clara parked in a corner so that the length of the limo wasn't blocking anyone. The moving truck parked further towards the entrance. 7

Anastasia stepped out of the limo and was greeted by the sight of beautiful art students strolling around the campus, some just walking, some talking and laughing, and some hurrying around, trying to get the last few things into their dorms. Not very many people had shown up yet, by the looks of it. 8

As Anastasia stared, her mother appeared beside her. 9

“Amazing, isn't it?” She asked. Anastasia quietly nodded. Because only a small amount of students had arrived already, the campus was relatively quiet, and the drying leaves on the gigantic oak trees that dotted the land were rustling in the wind. After another serene moment, Clara took a step forward and chirped, “Come along, then,” so Anastasia reluctantly followed. 10

With her mother Clara on her right, and her father Aloysha on her left, and her nice green dress swishing around her ankles, Anastasia found that she kept having to remind herself to breathe. The Academy in front of them got bigger and bigger as they walked nearer to it, then bigger, and bigger, until it seemed like it had gotten bigger than it was supposed to. They reached the door, and Anastasia pulled it open. 11

Thankfully, the inside of the main building wasn't as intimidating as the outside. It had a welcoming, familiar atmosphere, with soft lighting and warm colors. There were large staircases on either side of the gigantic main room, and you could see the entrances to the second floor hallways at the top. 12

Aloysha and Clara turned left towards the school office, so Anastasia followed them. As they approached the secretary window they were able to see who was inside, a young woman in her early twenties with long, dark hair and a beautiful smile. She looked kind of like the secretaries in the movies that slept with her bosses, only she was wearing more modest clothing and the look in her eyes was more calm and comforting than seductive. 13

“May I help you?” She asked. 14

“We're here to register Anastasia Petrov.” Clara announced stuffily. 15

It went from there.16

After about ten minutes, Anastasia was handed papers to sign and a few forms to fill out, mostly concerning her schedule, dorm finalities, health forms, etc. As she was signing, Clara was passed the financial forms. 17

Aloysha hung back with his arms crossed in front of him and thoughtfully surveyed his surroundings. 18

“And what will her allowance be?” The pretty secretary woman asked, her pen poised delicately in her hand, ready to write down the amount as soon as she heard it. 19

Anastasia had read about the allowances. It wasn't really a big deal at the academy, but was somewhat necessary. Every month, or week, whichever the parents preferred, a certain amount of money would be sent to their son or daughter out of their parents checking or credit or debit accounts, whichever they wanted, as an allowance to spend on things they needed or wanted, whether it be pencils, notebooks, binders, other school supplies, or just that nice pair of shoes they'd been eying. 20

“Three-hundred dollars a month,” Clara replied.21

Anastasia's eyes nearly rolled out of her head. If she'd been chewing on anything, she would've choked, only she wasn't, so when her mouth dropped open, the only sound she could produce was a surprised, unbelieving little squeak. 22

Clara looked over. “Is something wrong, dear?” The look on her face was not only of concern, but also annoyance. 23

Anastasia fought for her voice. 24

“Three hundred dollars a month, mom?” She asked quietly, sounding timid. “Don't you think that's a little....” She shrugged. “Much?” 25

Clara looked peeved. “What, you want me to lower it to two hundred, then?” Anastasia nearly sighed. Sometimes her mother didn't seem to get it. 26

“Yeah. Sure. Fine. Two hundred's fine...” She said, turning back to her health form. In front of her she could hear the secretary scratching out the three hundred and re-writing the answer in. 27

How in the world was she expected to spend two hundred dollars a month? It's not like she needed anything. 28

Behind her, Anastasia heard the large doors open and turned to see some of the moving people carrying in some boxes of her things. 29

The secretary craned her neck past Clara so that she could speak directly to the movers. “Her dorm room number is number 542!” She told them, before even being asked. “It's on the fifth floor. The elevator is on your right if you want to take it.” They nodded at her and found the elevator, disappearing into the unexplored parts of the school in groups of three. 30

Anastasia continued filling out her health form. It was boring; there was nothing interesting about her health. She didn't have asthma, she didn't take prescribed medication, she wasn't anemic or depressed or.... the only pills she needed to take were the vitamin supplements that her mother insisted she take, even though her diet was perfectly fine and she was more than sure that she was getting her share of vitamins every day. 31

Complications, complications.... Anastasia sighed. It was just a small sigh, and she had assumed that it would be undetectable, but was proved wrong when she felt her fathers' strong hand on her shoulder. 32

She looked up to see him warmly smiling down at her. 33

“You'll be fine, Anastasia.” He said, rubbing her shoulder. “I know she can be a bit overbearing sometimes...” He glanced in Clara's direction, “But she's a great woman, and she's made a great decision by letting you come to this school. It will give you the freedom that I know you want and need. Just don't let the boys get too crazy over you.” He winked. 34

Clara heard nothing, as she was too busy chattering away to the secretary about how she'd been waiting for years to let Anastasia attend the school and how lovely it had been in her day and blah, blah blah.... 35

Anastasia beamed and continued filling out the health form. 36

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When every single sheet of paperwork had been handed to the secretary and filed away and Anastasia was being handed the set of keys to her dorm room, a young woman in her late teens or early twenties came bobbing down the staircase and strode over in Anastasia's direction. 38

“Well, hello,” She said to Anastasia once she got close enough. “My name's Chris Hartley, president of the student body. Is this your first year at the academy?” Chris held out her hand and Anastasia shook it. Chris was a good four or five inches taller than her and fairly pretty, with white blond hair cropped in a pixie cut and dark eyes covered with square-rimmed glasses. Her t-shirt was grey and sported two brown owls sitting on a branch, the first one saying “WHO,” and the second saying “WHOM,” correcting the others' grammar. 39

A student from the Writing Program, no doubt. 40

“I'm Anastasia...” She said, shaking Chris' hand. “Anastasia Petrov. Yes, I'll be a freshman this year.” Anastasia was inclined to notice that Chris was wearing jeans and flip flops along with her owl shirt. 41

Jeans and a t-shirt. How devastatingly ironic. How painfully, dreadfully ironic. Anastasia suddenly felt overdressed in her fashionable green dress.42

I told you so...43

“Really? I'll be a freshman this year, too.” Chris replied. Anastasia's eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. 44

“You look a little old to be a freshman...” She stated. Chris laughed. 45

“Well, yeah, actually, I am. I'm eighteen. This will be my second time attending. I went here one time around for photography, now I'm coming again for writing.” Anastasia's eyes widened. 46

“Really? You can do that?” She asked. Chris nodded enthusiastically. 47

“Yeah. I mean, my parents were willing to pay for it, and I was willing to come, so it all worked out. The classes are typically available to people of any age; but really only high school students.” Anastasia nodded thoughtfully. Chris began speaking again.“So, like, are you still busy here, or is it okay if I show you around? I could bring you straight to your room if you want me to.” 48

Anastasia was about to answer when her mother interrupted. 49

“That's a great idea!” She bubbled. “Anastasia, go hang out with the other girls, don't be shy. Just don't wander off too far. This place is huge, simply gargantuan.” Anastasia nodded, slightly embarrassed, and took a step towards Chris. 50

“Yeah, if you could show me to my dorm that would be great. It's number 542. If you could show me the auditorium on the way, that would be helpful as well.” The auditorium was where her second class, Advanced Chamber Choir, would be held, and where she as a singer would be spending a lot of her time. 51

“Okay, then. You're a singer, right?” Chris asked as she started walking towards the hallway in between the two staircases. “Or are you in band? A lot of the band students spend a lot of time in the auditorium, too. I don't know, you look like a singer to me...” Said Chris as she strode alongside Anastasia, her hands shoved in her pockets, walking down the plain-looking hallway. 52

“Yeah, I'm a singer. I'm in the Choral Program.” Anastasia replied. 53

It felt weird to be saying that. I'm a singer. 54

It had always been her mother saying that, not she herself. 55

“Yeah, I could kind of tell.” Said Chris. She said it in an odd way that Anastasia picked up on. 56

“What do you mean, 'you can tell'?” Anastasia asked. The way Chris had said it had made her feel slightly defensive, not so much in the sense that she felt offended, but that she felt like something was being kept from her. 57

“It's kind of weird to explain...” Chris replied. “The way you stood, I guess. The way you held yourself. Just your general, overall energy. It's kind of something you pick up on as you attend here. By the time your first year is up you can tell which program a student is in by just looking at them, really.” Anastasia found this interesting, and filed it away in her brain for future reference. 58

After about thirty more seconds of walking in silence, they came to an averagely-sized dark green metal door with the word “AUDITORIUM” printed on it in large golden letters. 59

“Well, here it is,” Said Chris, patting the door with the flat of her hand. It made a shallow thud sound. “As a singer you'll be spending a lot of time in here, right? I don't know, I guess you will. So where's your dorm? You said it was number 542, right? Well, let's go find it...” 60

Chris took a step away, but Anastasia didn't move. 61

“Aren't we allowed to go inside and look around?” She asked curiously. Through the small window she thought she could see a few other students in there, hanging around on the stage and talking. 62

Chris turned on her heels slowly towards Anastasia with a slightly pained expression on her face, as if that was the question she'd been dreading. 63

“Well, we could, but...” Chris looked down at the floor. “I mean, it's allowed, but...” 64

Anastasia was clearly confused. “But what?” She asked. “If we're allowed in, then let's...” She put her hand on the doorknob. 65

“Wait!” Chris said quickly. Anastasia looked over at her. “It's the singers.” Chris admitted. “They're a little... I don't really know how to explain it... Spacey?” 66

Anastasia suddenly felt slightly worried. “What, they're not mean, are they?” She asked. “'Cause if they are, please tell me. I'd enjoy being warned ahead of time if I'm going to have my head bitten off on the first day of school.” Chris laughed a little, but Anastasia couldn't figure out if it was that she was actually humored or if she was just nervous. 67

“No, no, none of them are mean. They're all very nice, as far as I know. They're just a little recluse... Well, recluse isn't exactly the right way to explain it...” Anastasia's hand dropped from the doorknob. Chris rubbed the back of her neck and wrinkled her eyebrows in thought. “It's just kind of hard to talk to them.” 68

Anastasia still looked confused. Ten seconds passed. 69

Fifteen. 70

Twenty...71

Chris sighed, a long, mournful sigh. “Okay, truthfully?” She asked. Anastasia gave her a kind of “get on with it” look and shifted her weight. “Truthfully.” Said Anastasia.72

Chris sighed again, a smaller one this time. “The singers are on a pedestal so high, no one can reach them.” 73

Anastasia was suddenly reminded of her mother. 74

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