to shake my hair out and spray her with pellets of water. She shrieked and took off towards the back of the boat. We fell into our seats laughing and wiping water off of our bodies. I wasn’t usually this gullible, so I decided to keep a watchful eye on Kira. It did feel good to have a little fun without being reminded I needed to ‘act like a lady’. My wet hair and clothes would have given Dee a coronary.
Eventually another piece of land came into view up ahead. I looked at Kira and she promptly announced, “There she is! Old Baldy!”
“Old Baldy?” I raised an eyebrow.
“The lighthouse! It’s called Old Baldy.” I spotted a weathered, stone lighthouse rising up over the vacation homes and trees. The ferry maneuvered into a small marina dotted with sailboats, fishing boats, and one very large yacht. We parked beside the boardwalk, and I felt the ferry crawl to a stop.
The horn sounded again and we descended the exit ramp, following the rest of the passengers along the boardwalk. Up ahead, Ebb and Flo’s Oyster Bar and Restaurant welcomed the newcomers, as well as several other buildings housing souvenir shops and golf cart rentals.
“So there are no cars on the island at all?” I asked Kira, even though I already knew the answer.
“Nope, only golf carts – even the roads are golf cart size! But we aren’t renting one; we need to go this way.” She ushered me down a sidewalk and through a small chain link fence. “The school has its own fleet. We keep some here and the rest are back on school grounds.” One long row of golf carts stretched out before us. They weren’t your normal golf carts however…these were black, sleek, and sitting on fat beach tires. The emblem for the House of Lorelei was on each side. It was made up of a simple circle containing swooping letter ‘L’. We climbed into the first cart in the row and Kira stomped on the gas pedal, throwing me against the back of the seat. I searched around for a seat belt.
The absence of doors in addition to Kira’s questionable driving skills didn’t do much for my quickly building anxiety.
We zipped down the road heading east. Families riding bikes and vacationers in other golf carts waved as we passed. Bald Head Island sat between the Cape Fear River and the Atlantic Ocean.
The island’s western side housed the marina, shops and the lighthouse, while the southern side was the most populated, boasting sprawling vacation homes and beautiful beaches. The northern section of the island was made up of marshland and largely uninhabitable. The House of Lorelei was located on the eastern side, facing the Atlantic Ocean. The entire island was full of lush trees and plant life, with the most prevalent being the live oak tree. Many years of constant wind had twisted and mangled their branches, forging works of art that stretched over the road, creating an enchanting canopy of green.
The skin on my wrist began tingling and I glanced down to see if there was something crawling on me. Instead, I noticed my trace was not only still shimmering; it had started to change colors, as well. The once black lines were now a silvery blue. Fortunately, my bewilderment was quickly interrupted by the huge ornate, iron gate we were now stopped in front of. Unless you were directly in front of it, you could easily miss the school’s entrance. Ivy and moss twisted around and over the gate making it look as much a part of the landscape as the live oaks. Beneath the overgrowth, the House of Lorelei emblem adorned both sides of the iron bars. My stomach began doing flip-flops in anticipation. Ever so slowly, the gate swung inward and we drove onto the school grounds.
Once we were clear of the gate, Kira hit the gas again and I held on for dear life for another half mile or so. Gray stone walls lined the road, weathered by wind and time. The campus of the House of Lorelei unfolded before us, as we rounded a sharp corner. Buildings made of the same weathered gray stone stood on every side of us, appearing very gothic in the hooded light of the setting sun. We came to an abrupt halt in front of a two story building, and Kira motioned for me to follow her in.
“Before I take you to Maren Hall where you’ll be living, we need to take care of a couple minor details,” she explained. Once inside, we entered a small office labeled ‘Kira Baylor’.
“Okay. Let’s see, let’s see…” She shuffled through some papers on her desk, “Here’s your meal card; it works all over the island, not just on campus. And here’s the key to the suite you’ll be sharing with your new roommates.” She handed me a black debit card and a small manila envelope with a key inside. She produced several blank forms and began filling them out.
“The name ‘Hannah Elizabeth Whitman’ was given to you by the state of Georgia, correct?”
“Just the ‘Hannah Elizabeth’ part. ‘Whitman’ came from my adoptive family,” I clarified. As she continued filling out more information, I got an idea. If I was going to be starting a new beginning, I might as well make it official.
“So, if a person wanted to change their name now that they are beginning a new school and have the rare opportunity to recreate themselves…as it were…would that be an option?” I asked hesitantly.
She looked up and smiled knowingly. “And what would said person want to change their name to?” Only one name came to mind.
“Anastasia.”
She gave me an odd look and quickly directed her gaze back down to the paper. “Okay, Anastasia,” She put emphasis on my new first name and scribbled something down on the form.
“Name officially changed. Now let’s go introduce you to your new suitemates!”
Back in the golf cart, we passed several more gray stone buildings and turned onto a cobblestone street lined with little shops on either side. The golf cart’s large beach tires had us bouncing around like a demented carnival ride. By the time the shops ran out and the road changed back to smooth pavement, we were both laughing hysterically.
“Normally we don’t drive down that section,” Kira explained sheepishly, as she wiped a couple of happy tears from her cheek. “But sometimes it’s just fun to do.” Several looming buildings to my right caught my attention.
“Here we are!” I looked up in wonder at a seven story building, resembling a medieval beach resort. The constant roar of the ocean greeted me as we walked up the stone steps of Maren Hall. The strong smell of sea grass filled my nose and the warm nighttime air tickled my skin, as it swirled around me. The gothic feel of the exterior stopped abruptly at the front doors. The extensive lobby was filled with large, overflowing brown leather couches and chairs. Flat screen TV’s hung on several of the walls and an enormous fish tank was set into the wall on my left, exotic-looking fish cruising along its length. Straight ahead, more doors led out to blackness. Kira’s eyes followed mine.
“Maren is one of the two oceanfront halls. The other is Rostrum Hall next door, which is one of the guy’s halls.” This was too good to believe. My new home would be oceanfront? I could count on one hand the number of times I’d been to the beach and now I’d be living on it!
We rode a sleek elevator to the third floor and came to a stop at a normal-looking door labeled 327. Kira knocked three times and I heard a pair of feet running towards us.
Chapter 6
The door flew open and a petite girl with chunky layers of red, blonde, and brown hair stood before us. “Hey Kira!” Not waiting on an answer, she turned her attention to me, “And you must be our new roomie! Willow! Carmen! She’s here!” She wrapped me in a bear hug, and then motioned for us to come inside. Two more girls walked into the room.
“Look guys, she’s here!” She was practically jumping up and down with excitement.
“You’ll have to excuse Phoebe. She forgot to take her meds today,” the dark haired girl joked, as she collapsed dramatically onto the couch and took a big gulp of Gatorade.
Phoebe shot her a look and rolled her eyes. “That’s Carmen, she’s just mad cause I beat her at tennis on the Wii today.” Then she whispered loud enough for everyone to still hear, “I’ve got a wicked back hand.” Glancing over at the girl on the couch, she stuck out her tongue.
“I’m Willow,” the third girl gave me a very genuine smile.
“I’m Anastasia; it’s nice to meet you.” I returned her smile. The second I said my name, the other two girls quit arguing and looked at me the same way Kira had earlier. Feeling extremely awkward, I continued, “But you
