Chương 214: Chapter 235: Move-In Day

Two weeks went by fast. Every day of it lasted a dozen years and all sixteen days were gone in an hour. I stayed so busy that I never caught my breath and now the hundred things I accomplished all feel like a hazy dream that I just snapped out of. I'm telling you, vacations just exist in a parallel dimension. At least this time I'm already moved in. The whole building shakes, not figuratively, with the thudding footsteps and jostling shoulders of students moving into the building.

For most, they're just bringing everything back to the same room they came from, and the disorder is all rambunctious energy and shouted greetings to friends that haven't been seen in two weeks. On the floor directly below us, all the new freshmen are barging in for the first time, and that's the real chaos. None of them know where to go or what to do, and so by general acclaim every single one of them has to make that everyone else's problem as noisily as possible. Move-In Day.

Elica and I have been taking this morning as slowly as we know how to. Dawdling in showers, taking our time picking out clothes. We're both early risers, wide-awake-at-first-bell. For her, either a natural talent or an undiagnosed anxiety disorder. For me, a side effect of my very unusual replacement for conventional sleep.

We've been giving the rest of the building time to figure their shit out before we open the door, but after an entire hour of morning preparations it remains quite clear that this house is going to quake in its foundations all day long: too much to do and nobody bothering to organize it at all.

"Look, there's nothing for us to do," I said.

"And if there was, you still wouldn't do it. Rinnie's going to be busy all day, Larianne and Vancy aren't even in the building yet. We either sit here and pretend like this is not a non-stop round-the-bell earthquake or we get the hell out of here."

"Not through your portals," she insisted.

"And I'm not going to shove my way down those halls like some barbarian." I gave her a dull, unamused glare, and I gestured at the window. It unlatched and swung open.

"I know you like flying," I reminded her. We had the good fortune that our room was a corner room at the front of the building, facing into the campus. That meant that we were on the opposite side from the service drive and loading dock. And that meant that the ground below us was not swarmed with sprinting students, idling drivers, bitching porters and stacks of things that need moving. All that chaos on the back entrance, but as we drifted down to the ground at the front, the place looked almost serene.

I re-latched the window and set the lock, and then we walked down to the student center.

"Huh."

"What's up Elica?"

"You've never walked with me before."

"Sure I have."

"No. You always either hurry off, or you walk with all four of us, but never the two of us." She paused.

"I don't think we ever see each other one-on-one outside of the room. We've always got people."

"We both like having people around." She's insecure and needs to be waited on to feel like she matters. Me, because I have what I'm starting to recognize as serious abandonment issues. I am proud that I did not sound defensive when I said, "Besides, it's not like I ever actually leave you alone. You've got Rinnie over every morning save for today, obviously." Elica made a placating gesture with her hand and started walking in the direction of the student center, prompting me to follow.

"Settle, I didn't mean anything by it. I just observed that there are not many times that you and I speak without one of us having her hair in curlers. And while-""Neither of ever uses curlers. Why would you-""- And while it is nice that we both have such a neat bookend to our day, it does get a little limiting. We have each other to frame the beginning of the day and organize thoughts in the morning, and to settle conclusions and discuss context in the evening. And that is valuable.

But most days, when we see each other at the dining hall or in passing or out on weekend excursions? All too often it feels like there's not much to be said between us. Most days, you have more meaningful things to discuss at lunch with Vancy. With Vancy, Natalie."

"What? Vancy's not bad! She comes across as a little- you know, but she's much brighter than that. Honestly, she makes better decisions than I do and -""I know and I'm teasing," she said. evenly.

"Honestly it's sweet how fast you always come to her defense. And to mine, too, even when I don't deserve it. Which I always do, let me be clear. You even try to defend Larianne, which is amusing." She smirked to herself. I think she was picturing a brave little chihuahua dog loudly guarding her friend who is clearly some kind of very patient wolf. Without losing the smile, she said, "It just seems like you and I only ever talk in a specific context and maybe that shapes what we have to say to each other."

I sighed and looked up at the geode sky, the warbling wobbling aurora-like lights that painted the air above us. Diffuse glows thrown back and forth from the crystals embedded in the far-off ceiling, crossed over so many times that not a single source or star can be seen.

"Maybe. We see a lot of each other, but it's the same conversations."

"Exactly," she said, and paused a moment. With the toe of her shoe she nudged a mismatched pebble off the white-gravel path.

"We don't see each other during classes or even walks. Just certain... check-in times. How's your morning what's your plans. Lunchtime is the halfway point, how are things going so far. End of the day, how did your day compare to your expectations of the day? Good night, see you tomorrow, we'll do it again." She stepped along briskly, mounting the steps to the student center. She stepped towards the door without raising a hand, fully confident that the door would open itself ahead of her.

Yes, I was greatly tempted to just let her smack into it without doing anything. My mean-spirited sense of humor is the biggest threat to our friendship. Instead I let the drifts of mana nudge the door open and let her sweep past without pausing. A lot of confidence for someone who has never actually seen an automatic door. Wait, I should invent automatic doors. We've already got most of the components that we'd need. All that's really left is a motor quiet enough that it won't be obtrusive.

The front entryway was all ours, but the dining hall itself was a bedlam. Boys and girls streamed in and out constantly, most of them heading straight to the grab-and-go tables for something to walk away with, almost nobody bothered sitting at a table. After all, everyone had things to do, it's Move-In Day. The stream of traffic led to the back of the building, where the service entrance was nearest to the loading entrances for the dorms.

People moving from where they were to where they needed to be, bypassing the normal routes because there's no normal activity. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. It strikes my attention particularly right now, I've been reading up on urban warfare, and was struck by the way that traffic patterns change during evacuations. And honestly, the chaos of Move-In Day is a pretty good allegory. The walking wounded streamed past, with their thousand-yard stares.

She sighed, staring at the mixed-up movements of the hasty, dusty, and oft-times sweaty press of people.

"And the faculty dining hall doesn't open until tomorrow," she grumbled.

"I have to eat what other students are eating." I chuckled.

"Elica, remember that time I told you to never change?"

"No take-backs," she said quickly.

"Can you be a dear and fetch over two servings of whatever leavings these huddled masses have deigned to pick over?" She was being very dramatic today. But I nodded her towards our usual seats and I moved to get two servings of whatever looked best. Elica normally has to trust that her rank, her reputation and her attitude will keep people from knocking into her. Today, everyone is too frazzled to even notice an earl, she would get knocked over for sure. I have less worries about being jostled, though.

I skipped the streaming line heading for the grab-and-go, flicking myself up into the air to cross over it, with my skirts twined close around my legs out of habit. There were only a handful in line for the tray breakfasts, easy enough. I grabbed two types so there was a better chance of her enjoying something. She would complain no matter what, but just because she's complaining doesn't mean she might not enjoy it anyway.

One plate had scrambled eggs with diced ham mixed in and cheese melted over the top with a side of hash browns topped with grilled onions and peppers; the other had a cinnamon-spiced oatmeal with a bowl of chopped fruits and nuts. When she was offered her choice, she sighed piteously.

"I suppose I'll just eat gruel like the commoners," and took the richly seasoned brightly-colored dish with sweet fruit and crunchy walnuts. She complained bitterly while she stirred the bits in, measuring until she deemed it all just right, and then she ate her oatmeal with obvious relish and plenty of bitching.

"So," I picked up the conversation.

"We see each other for two hours each morning, an hour at lunch, three hours in the evenings. Honestly, if you still feel like you don't know me that well then maybe the problem is with us. Are we just bad at communicating?" She waved a spoon.

"Missing the point. You and I talk plenty. And you do listen to what I say more than most. It's not just the time in proximity. And it's not just the willingness to communicate. It's that the only times you and I ever talk is either as part of a crowd, or at the bookends of the day. I know that most people only really talk under certain conditions. That's normal. But it means that I hear a lot about the person you are when you're around other folks. The other day you were telling me about that fencing tournament.

And the Natalie that was in that story you were telling me was nobody I've ever met. We touch base, but we don't converse."

"Hold up," I said, leaning in on my elbows.

"Elica, do you wish that you and I would be better friends than we are?" She rolled her eyes.

"Still not catching on," she said. But she hesitated. Not a big pause, but just a moment of a catch and a hitch and a slight rounding of her eyes. That was enough for me. I left my seat, moved around the table and hugged the girl. She squirmed, and I patted her back. She froze, thawed, relaxed. I settled in and gave her a squeeze, and she sloooooowly leaned in on me and put her head on my shoulder. She had her hands in her lap but I could feel her shoulder blades easing.

I gave it a good minute and a half before I started letting go. She tutted a firm "no no," at me, and she took hold of my arms and pulled them back around her. So I settled in for a longer hug, and included just a little bit of a side-to-side rocking motion. A little pressure at the upper back to curl her into me, and then a lifting squeeze, drawing in and upwards, a favorite of mine. She melted in my arms. She stayed that way a long time, softening by degrees.

Just to be sure, after a few minutes I checked that she wasn't crying or something; non-huggers will do that sometimes. She was dry-eyed but seemed dazed.

"Was that one of your magic things?"

"What? No, that was a hug," I said.

"Nope. I've had hugs. That was different," she insisted.

"It was a good hug," I clarified.

"Ah. That was... nourishing. How?" I moved back to my eggs.

"It's a hug, Elica. They're supposed to feel like that."

"It felt like a conversation," she said, looking confused and blinking a lot. I chewed and swallowed my mouthful.

"It's a hug, Elica. they're supposed to feel like that."

"Bullshit." She was staring at me. I ate my breakfast.

"Fuck. Okay, if friends get hugs then I guess this year I want to be better friends," she admitted.

"Good. Our first task is to figure out how to use this power for evil," I said mock-seriously. She shook her head.

"Nah. I think you've already got that figured out just fine on your own. Be careful with those things." After breakfast I was going to put myself back to work but instead she got me by the elbow and strolled with me oh-so-casually talking about something or another or perhaps nothing at all until we were halfway to the stables and I caught on to her wiles.

"Elica, why are we going to the stables?"

"Because today is the first day to put in bids for the new horses that have been moved in for the semester and I want to try to pick out a fine stallion to reserve for myself this year. Equestrian practice may not be as bloodthirsty as your canoodling but it's still rather competitive."

"Camogie, not- shut up. Why do you need a new horse? Just ride the same one that you had this past year."

"Natalie, one of the worst experiences you can have, riding a stallion, is that your steed decides to mount and fornicate a mare while you're still in the saddle. One of the worst experiences you can have riding a mare is to be in your saddle when someone riding a stallion has one of their worst experiences. I trust I am not being too circumspect?"

"Was this the day you wanted me to make a special trip into the city to get you a bottle of vodka?"

"I will thank you to ask fewer questions," said my roommate. I did accompany her to the stables to see if she could imprint one of the new arrivals and make a case for pairing with it for the semester. And why did she want me with her? Well, it's because horses poop and because the Academy does not pay for a full staff for each animal during the vacation season.

With her clutching my arm we walked into the wooden outbuilding that reminded me of various uncomfortable parts of my childhood, and my magical affinity for the air screened out the unladylike smells of domesticated animals in close proximity. I rolled my eyes and allowed her to drag me into this while she tried to make a good impression on the newly-added options. She spent a lot of time clucking and clicking and waving her hands and trying to get the horses close enough for scritches.

And why the fuck is this school's riding class not using geldings? She was on tip-toes to reach over the stall doors, or climbing up on stile ladders to get into their eyeline. I stood back and even though my dress did not have pockets I had my figurative hands in my figurative pockets, just hanging out and watching her make a general fool of herself. I didn't wait a full hour. Maybe fifty minutes. Not quite to the bell. I'm patient but my patience is limited.

"Have you seriously spent a full year at this school taking riding lessons?" I asked, shaking my head.

"You are bad at this." She scoffed, and challenged me to do better. I rolled my eyes, and walked to a quiet corner away from the horses to open a portal and vanish away. I was back in a few minutes with a bushel of apples and a huge jug of water. I rubbed the first apple on the backs of my hands and rolled it into Yeti's stall, and a minute later the horse was nosing it around, then crunching. I did it again, and he responded faster. The third apple he ate out of my hands.

I used the lemniscate rope to run a simple lead through his hackamore and he let me lead him out to the paddock to run around a while. I handed Elica the next apple and she did the same sequence with the sleek black Pepper. When Pepper and Yeti had run off some of their energy and come back around looking for treats, I stood back and let Elica dole out apple slices and nosepets. [Horse: Affinity 42%]"Oh come on you have to be fucking kidding me."