After Eva’s furious outburst, she’d gone out of her way to avoid him. It was a shame; he could’ve used a friend. Jamie could only conclude that winning was more important to Eva than any friendship, making him question whether she would be friend or foe once the Trials actually started.
And finally, there was a single Atmospheric.
It hadn’t taken him long to learn that she was the first Atmospheric to even attempt to enter the Trials in decades. Atmospherics weren’t known for their fighting skills. The ability to call on air and physical stealth made them impressive spies or even cat burglars, but it wasn’t a skill set well suited for the physicality that the Trials would demand.
He liked Gemma – she was friendly, quirky and apparently well aware of her long odds when it came to winning the Trials. She’d been the first person to approach him and introduce herself when Jason brought him to the dormitory building. At the time, he’d been under a state of extreme paranoia, which meant that he hadn’t been able to work out whether she was driven by macabre curiosity or a genuine desire to be friendly.
In the end he’d decided that it didn’t really matter. With Eva giving him the cold shoulder, he could use someone to talk to and Gemma was a great source of information.
It was a strange feeling, living in such close quarters with so many people, yet feeling utterly alone.
Once, when he’d been thirteen years old and under the watchful eye of his mother, he’d called Fire to his hand for the very first time. It was perhaps the first and only thing he’d ever managed to do before Emma. The next day, he’d gone back to school and sat amongst his classmates as they spoke about all the everyday mundane things in their live. As teenagers: what girl liked what boy. And as sports obsessed South Africans: the score of the latest cricket game, that amazing try in the rugby game, and a multitude of other sports related news.
It was a language he’d been fluent in only a day ago, but suddenly he’d felt different, apart and alone. The feeling had washed over him like a wave cresting over the shoreline and in its wake he knew everything had changed and he would never be one of them ever again.
It was the same feeling now.
As much as he might appear to be like any other Trial participant, he wasn’t. Despite his purported superpower of making friends, he couldn’t find within himself that small measure of privileged nonchalance, which was required to truly make him one of them.
Gemma was the closest thing he had to a real friend. Perhaps it was because, as the only Atmospheric, she also didn’t fit the mold perfectly.
She was pretty enough, though her face was too full of sharp lines and angles to ever be called beautiful. She was tall and angular and moved with a clumsy awkwardness that belied her ability to move almost completely silently as per her Atmospheric Gift.
She had bright, shocking pink hair that added to her general air of eccentricity. Jamie later learnt that the hair was an attempt at rebellion against her staid and uptight family – a family that consisted of a father who’d won the Trials and an older brother who had been the runner-up in his Trials. It was a family who liked winners and expected nothing short of perfection, a family that represented the real reason why Gemma felt it necessary to enter the Trials.
Despite all of her quirks, Jamie found Gemma to be straightforward and trustworthy, so when he wasn’t scouting out the competition or visiting Allyra, he spent most of his time with her.
*
He knocked gently on the door to the Atmospherics’ room, before pushing it open and walking in. Gemma was lying on the bed closest to the window, reading a book. She grinned when she saw he was holding two muffins.
There was always an endless supply of food – the Trials dormitory had its own kitchen and staff, separate to the rest of the College. The cooks were talented and it would’ve been all too easy to gain weight if not for the massive energy output the Gifted required when calling upon their elements. Whatever energy Jamie gained from eating, he had no problem expending during training.
“Yum. Thanks.” Gemma said ecstatically when he handed her one of the muffins. “What flavor is it?”
“Not sure – didn’t stop to ask, but I’m guessing chocolate chip.”
“Mmmmm, my favorite.” She hummed as she broke off a piece, confirming they were indeed chocolate chip.
He looked at her skeptically, “Yesterday you said your favorite was blueberry and the day before that it was coffee…”
She grinned, unrepentant. “Maybe my favorite flavor is ‘flavor of the day’.”
Gemma popped a piece of muffin into her mouth and murmured indistinctly around it. “So, how was Allyra today? Any change?”
Jamie sighed and shook his head, “No – but I suppose I should be grateful for that. I keep reminding myself that no change is a good thing – at least it means she’s not hurt or in trouble. But I can’t help wishing there would be some sign. I keep hoping she’ll squeeze my hand or just magically wake up and ask what all the fuss is about. I guess I just have to wait until they open the Gate – and then maybe she’ll do just that.”
“I still can’t believe they’re opening a Gate – my mom was actually threatening to take me out of here the night they do it. I don’t know what she thinks is going to happen. I think she imagines that a hoard of Revenants will come charging out the gate
