Sanctuary Bay (3 page)

“That's a lot of towers,” she said.

“It's a closed system,” Nate recited again, as if that explained anything.

The boat powered up to a long jetty made of large flat stones stacked on top of one another and glided to a stop. The hatch slid up and the world exploded into color again. The rich gold of the setting sun turned the perfectly fluffy clouds orange, amber, and pink. The sea held dozens of shades of blue. The stones of the jetty had appeared gray, but now that Sarah could see them without the barrier of smoked glass, she realized they were actually subtle shades of charcoal, lavender, purple, sand, tan, and even a dusty rose.

It was beautiful.

“Thanks, man,” Nate said to the pilot, who only nodded in response. As soon as Sarah, Nate, and Maya stepped onto the jetty, the hatch slid back into place, turning the pilot into a shadowy figure inside. A moment later, the boat was flying across the water, a strange high-tech blip on the ocean.

Maya sighed as she watched it go. “If only we could use it every few weeks for a mall run. We're blocked from online shopping too,” she explained to Sarah. “But the school is fabulous enough that missing out is no biggie.”

“Your closets are stuffed as it is,” Nate said. “She's always begging me to let her store some shoes in mine,” he added to Sarah.

“It should be a privilege,” Maya shot back. “They're extremely cute shoes.”

“My Chucks like their privacy.” Nate started down the jetty after grabbing Sarah's suitcase and backpack. Was it weird to let a stranger haul your crap? Maybe he was just being a gentleman, as Mrs. Yoder would say.

Sarah watched him for a few seconds, carrying her bags like they were weightless.

“Coming?” Maya asked.

“Yeah. Sorry,” Sarah answered, heading across the stones after Nate, Maya trailing behind. At the end of the jetty, more of the same stones had been used to create long, high steps up the side of the cliff. A small brown rabbit skittered out of the way as Sarah started to climb.

The cliff was so steep that Sarah couldn't see what lay above until she reached the second step from the top. Then her whole field of vision was filled with a wide, vividly green manicured lawn, leading to the most beautiful building she'd ever seen. Her eyes flitted about, trying, and failing to take everything in all at once. Stone base, red brick walls, four stories high, with window upon window, tall and crisscrossed with white latticework all the way across the first floor, Greek columns flanking both sides of the glass entrance doors. Two wide staircases, also of stone, ran in graceful curves from the lawn up to the wide veranda that wrapped around the entire building. A balcony followed the line of the veranda on the floor above. Arched niches held classical statues of white marble. A bell tower rose out of the center of the white roof, a chimney on either side of the roof continuing the symmetry that the whole structure possessed.

Nate glanced over his shoulder. She stood rooted in place, unable to take the last step. There was too much to see. “Now
this
,” he said, “is the school.”

“No fucking way.” The words escaped before Sarah could stop them.
Classy, Sarah. Real classy.

“Fucking way,” Nate replied. He smiled, not The Grin, but something softer, his eyes intent on her face.

If she'd seen a picture of the place online, she wasn't sure she would have gotten on the plane, no matter how big of a life-changer the school was. This place wasn't meant for someone like her.

“Don't you want to see the rest?” Maya piped up from behind.

Sarah was still trying to see all of
this. You can make me relive this moment as much as you want,
she told her freaky brain. She took the last step, breathing in the smell of freshly mown grass, her eyes still flicking over the school. Two three-story wings stretched out from both sides of the main building, columns alternating with the huge windows on both of them.

Don't go falling in love with it, not until you're sure you are staying,
she told herself sternly.

A flash of movement and color caught her gaze, a long banner unfurling from one of the smaller windows on the third floor of the east wing. The fuchsia cloth kept unrolling until it was only a few feet above the veranda. Vivid yellow letters in a vertical row spelled out
WELCOME, SARAH!!!

She suddenly felt like she needed to sit down in a small quiet room by herself for at least a few minutes, just to breathe. To digest everything that had happened since five this morning when the social worker picked her up to drive her to the airport.

“I think we've been outclassed as the welcoming committee,” Maya commented as they headed down the path that led across the huge lawn. “Here comes Karina. She's one of your suitemates, Sarah. And that banner came out of the window of your room.”

Sarah watched as a petite girl with long dark hair took the steps from the veranda to the lawn two at a time. She reached them before they were even halfway across the lawn. “I've been standing by the window for an hour to get that timed right,” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, thanks for making us look like slackers, Kar,” Maya teased. “Let me state the obvious. This is Sarah Merson. Sarah, meet Karina Sharma.”

“That was amazing. That banner. Thanks so much,” Sarah said. She'd started at new schools what felt like a thousand times and the most she'd ever gotten was a tour from a kid who worked in the office.

Karina gave her a fast hug. Sarah felt herself stiffen, and hoped Karina hadn't noticed. “Just wanted you to know we're happy to have you here, like Jamiroquai dancing and tetherball happy.” Sarah had no idea what that last part meant, but she got the idea, and anyway, Karina was talking too fast to try to interrupt with a question. “‘We' being me and Izzy, your other roommate,” Karina continued. “I've been here since I was a freshman, but Iz just started last year. She's a senior. I'm a junior like you.”

“Your lung capacity must be phenomenal,” Nate commented as they started walking again. “You got all that out without taking a breath.”

“I'm phenomenal in a wide variety of ways, Cruz. Are you only just starting to realize that?” Karina winked at Sarah.

She's gorgeous,
Sarah thought, sneaking a glance at her new roommate.
Not just pretty, gorgeous.
East Indian, Sarah was pretty sure, with skin almost the same shade as her own, and eyes such a deep brown they were almost black. Every guy there probably got palpitations when she walked by.

After they climbed the stairs to the main entrance, Karina took Sarah's suitcase from Nate, swinging it away when Sarah reached for it. “You two are dismissed,” she told Nate and Maya.

“We were going to give Sarah a tour,” Maya protested.

“Nope! She's probably tired, and I'm taking her to our room, letting her sit down, and getting her a beverage of some sort,” Karina answered. “You can do an official tour later. Or just let Izzy and me show her around.” She pulled one of the glass doors open and waved Sarah in first.

“You good with that?” Nate asked Sarah.

“Sure.” It sounded great actually, as close as she was going to get to sitting in a small, quiet room by herself right now. She needed it more than ever. Her senses were on overload as she took in the elaborate wallpaper of the—again her vocabulary failed her. Sitting room? Waiting room? Lobby? Whatever the room should be called, it was huge, with a ceiling that went up two floors. A mammoth fireplace dominated the far end of the room, and there were clusters of furniture—chairs, love seats, sofas—on Persian carpets that almost created small rooms within it. The colors and patterns complimented each other, but didn't match. It was as if everything was special, one of a kind.

“Don't worry,” Nate said quietly as he handed over her backpack. “In a few days you'll feel like you've been here forever.”

Again, he'd known what she was thinking. “That's not possible,” Sarah murmured. She started to turn away, but Nate still held one of the backpack straps.

“It is. But only if you leave all your crap behind,” he said, his voice so low only she could hear it, eyes locked on hers, like he was trying to give her a coded message. “Sanctuary Bay is who you are now.”

Sarah stared at him, surprised. Nate's intense look vanished, and The Grin reappeared. He released the backpack. “You have an appointment with the dean at six. I'll come by your room and escort you over.”

“Thanks,” Sarah said as he walked away.

The dean. If Sarah could get through that meeting without getting sent back home, her whole life would change—as long as she left all her crap behind, apparently.
Sanctuary Bay is who I am now
.

“Okay,” she told Karina. “Show me everything.”

 

2

“To our room!” Karina exclaimed. She took Sarah by the arm, steering her toward a wide polished wood staircase with the same gentle curve as the brick steps leading up to the school's door. “Oh my gosh, so, I'm insanely curious about you. I want to know
everything
. But I can go first if you want.”

“You go,” Sarah answered. “I want to know everything too.” She
did
want to know about her new roommate. But she also wanted time to figure out what she wanted to say about herself.

“Well, I'm from L.A. My dad's in the Biz. Movie producer. My mom's a lawyer slash 1950s housewife.” Karina came to an abrupt halt. “Okay, I know I said no tour, but you have to see the Board. One of them at least.” She released Sarah and turned toward the wall, where what looked like a large flat-screen TV was mounted. It showed a close-up of the rocks on the jetty, wet with sea foam.

“Calendar,” Karina said. The picture of the jetty disappeared and was replaced by a calendar of school events. Sarah had only managed to read a few words when Karina said “menu” and a list of that night's dinner specials came up.

“Pasta: shrimp and scallops fresco,” Sarah read. Seriously? Karina continued, “My messages,” filling the screen with a row of texts. “How does it know it's you?” Sarah asked.

Karina shrugged. “I suck at understanding that stuff. It might as well be little fairies inside. Some kind of facial recognition software, I guess. The Boards all recognize you, no matter where you are on campus. They know everything about everyone.” She ran her finger through the air, making the messages scroll. “Uh-oh. One from Ethan.” She pinched her fingers together and the picture of the jetty returned. “My boyfriend,” she explained. “He can be a little obscene. I love it though! I'll read it later. Why are we standing here? Up to the room!” She started up the stairs. It took Sarah a second to follow her, semi-stunned by the rush of information.

“We're on the third floor in the east wing,” Karina said over her shoulder. “Izzy's up there, so you'll meet her in a minute. Preview—she's from Boston.” She said it like Sarah was supposed to get more than Izzy's hometown out of what she'd said. “You know, old money, regular visits to the Museum of Fine Arts, DAF to the BSO, all that.”

She might as well be speaking Chinese,
Sarah thought as they reached the top of the staircase and started down a long hallway. She didn't ask for a translation though. Sarah was good at figuring things out on her own. All it took was paying attention—she could remember all the details.

“I hope you don't mind, but Izzy and I did a little decorating on your part of the room. It's such a pain to have to do it the second you arrive. And anyway, you'd have to wait forever for a package, since you didn't bring that much with you.” They started up a second staircase.

Not much,
Sarah thought.
Only everything I possess.

“Just a duvet and some pillows and a lamp and a couple other things,” Karina continued. “We're the third one down,” she told Sarah they reached the third-floor landing. When they got to the door, she pressed her fingertip against a small silver pad and Sarah heard the door unlatch. “Dean Farrell will take your fingerprint when you meet her later,” Karina said. “They use fingerprints for everything here. Checking out books and lab equipment, opening doors, paying at the dining hall.”

Between that and the Boards, they can pretty much track every student every second of the day.
The realization gave her an itchy sensation between her shoulder blades, like someone was staring at her.

“Hey, Izzy, we're here,” Karina called, pushing open the door. The first thing Sarah noticed was the way the small living room smelled—like lavender and vanilla. Then she noticed the colored strings that looped around the ceiling. They held dozens of photos clipped to them with clothespins. Either Karina or Izzy—or both—was a creative type. A black tree had been painted on one of the sky-blue walls.

A door opened, pulling Sarah's attention away from the room, and a girl stepped through. Were there any ordinary people in this school? Izzy was as gorgeous as Karina, if in a completely different way. Your basic all-American boy's wet dream, blue-eyed with wavy blond hair that fell to the middle of her back, swimsuit model body, long legs, big boobs.

“You survived Hurricane Karina, I see,” she smiled, then crossed over to Sarah and shook her hand. “I'm Isobel Trescott. Izzy.”

“Hi.” Sarah made a mental note to shake hands and give her last name the next time she met someone. Nate had done that too, and Nate seemed to understand a thing or two about fitting in. People here shook hands, so if you wanted to seem like one of them, you shook hands.

“I'm not a hurricane,” Karina protested. “I'm simply enthusiastic.”

That was for sure. But Sarah kind of liked it. Having two girls that
enthusiastic
in the same room would be too much. But one of them meant there was no pressure to keep a conversation going.