[Pre-Fall] Chapter 0: Re-Orientation

Fall in Massachusetts, with its quintessentially New England brilliant foliage and crisp, cool air, was nearly upon Ashford. For the students of Ashford State High School, the end of summer meant the resumption of a new school term, and for you, it will mean the culmination of your educational journey, your final year in high school. Your high stakes exams have cleared (for most of you), what is left is for you to complete your remaining modules to maximise your credits, and perhaps finish off your capstone projects so that you can prepare for your college entrance exams. Though that depended on whether getting to college was still important to you. At the cusp of adulthood, change was in the air, as oxygen, to be inhaled deeply, necessarily. There were choices to be made, and paths to take.

Today is your first day back at school! Not yet bogged down by the routines of schoolwork or the commitments to your extra curricular activities, the first day was something to look forward to: friends you haven’t seen all summer, new classes to take, the cafeteria food (for some), and for you, the freedom that comes from being seniors. Already on the road to campus were students arriving in all modes of transportation: some took the pleasant walk from town, others cycled, the privileged drove. The handful of bikers were always the loudest. Rounding the slight slope past the last turn brought you to the old-fashioned arched gates of the landscape, now automated and enchanced with modern security features. No doubt the watchful eyes of ‘Officer’ Harris (as they liked to call him, given his previous career in law enforcement) scanned them from somewhere as they entered, student safety paramount in these times.

Hundreds of students making their way into campus singly or in groups, with squeals of happy greetings when friends caught up to each other, enthusiastic hails (or discreet avoidance) when passing members of the teaching staff who themselves were back for another academic cycle. Ashford High, seen from the direction of the campus entrance, visually greeted visitors with the gleaming contemporary edifice of its most well-funded building, the STEM Magnet Labs, impressive for being the best high school science facility in greater Boston, behind which sprawled the rest of the more traditional buildings of old.

Some of the excitable hordes turned left, perhaps towards the cafeteria for breakfast, or further in towards the gymnasium and sports complex, and most would report to their homerooms in the various blocks. But the senior year students knew they had to first head to Founders Hall for their first assembly at 9am, where Headmaster Blackwood would address them, no doubt to welcome them back and impress upon them the significance of their final year.

It would not do to be late!

The interior of Founders Hall inevitably evoked a sense of stately history and academic tradition; the wisteria-covered stone structure was the oldest building on campus, and in fact its size sufficed to house the entire school's (albeit much smaller) population and classes at its founding in 1896.

Today the seniors were to gather in the main auditorium to start their year, all four hundred Grade 12 students converging towards the Hall after reaching campus on time. Interestingly, while Founders Hall was the most significant building of Ashford High, the geographical centre of the entire campus was actually the Redevelopment Wing, sometimes referred to as the Burned Wing by the more knowing students. Whether you arrived by school bus or car or on foot, or if you were trying to navigate your way from the sports complex to your classroom, you would have to pass by a structure that appeared to be in a state of semi-construction and redevelopment. For the seniors, who have been in Ashford for four years, this renovation had been ongoing ever since they were freshmen. Certain sections of the building were in still in use, notably housing the counselling centre, but other parts remained closed off in a perpetual state of reconstruction.

But no one typically lingered near its vicinity, not at 8.58 am on a Monday morning in August, first day of term. Joe, Jonathan, Kyle, Minsoo, Myra, Torrance and Wren entered the auditorium separately and looked for where their class was roughly seated as student councillors herded them to settle down in their places so that assembly could begin. The rest of the gang were there, kind of: Cass was probably up and about doing her council duties, but Raven and Julian were already slouched in their seats waiting for things to start, Shawn was giggling away and pointing at some funny thing that probably wasn't that funny, and Sabrina was indeed chattering away full tilt with her posse, exchanging three months worth of gossip. In the incessant tumble of words she seemed to say something about Alex not being in school for some reason, but the councillors were really pleading for everyone to take their seats, for on stage, where the teachers were already seated, they could see Cass stepping up to the podium to get ready to invite Headmaster Blackwood to address them.

Torrance is looking around dissaprovingly in the way someone who knows they have better things to do than what they are about to, judging the gathering and the auditorium and the herding teachers in tired, bored dissaproval.
And is still considering trying to slip out.

Joe has been rubbernecking, trying to get his bearings since he arrived. After seeing Emily off towards her class, and gratefully taking a mouthful of water from his bottle while the late summer sun and morning breeze help cool him, he allows himself to be shepherded into the hall. I’m a new cog in an old machine; time to think coggish and go with the flow while I learn how this place works, he reckons. Slim and modestly athletic, he straightens his open-neck shirt and focuses on not walking into anyone or anything while trying to take in as much as he can. Settling down, he looks around at the people around him, wondering who they all are; then, so as not to stare obviously, he polishes his spectacles, and waits, calmly.

Wren slipped into the auditorium with her skateboard still tucked under her arm, headphones around her neck like always. Her copper hair was windswept from the ride up, her dark green hoodie slightly rumpled. She scanned the rows of seats, the four hundred seniors creating a wall of noise that made her jaw tighten.

The vaulted ceiling of Founders Hall amplified everything - voices, footsteps, the scrape of chairs - but underneath it all was that other sound. That constant hum that had been following her all summer. Worse here, in this old stone building, like the walls themselves were holding their breath.

She found a seat toward the edge, somewhere she could breathe. Close enough not to stand out, far enough not to drown in the noise. Her skateboard propped against her legs.

Just normal. Just senior year. Just an assembly.

The pressure was building. Too many people, too much sound. Wren pulled her headphones up over her ears - the same thing she'd done a hundred times before to manage the overwhelm.

But this time, in the silence the noise-cancellation created, something shifted. The hum didn't fade - it clarified. Sharpened. Like tuning a radio and suddenly catching the signal. Threads of resonance she'd been sensing all summer suddenly became audible, patterns woven through the old building that she couldn't name but could no longer ignore.

Myra walks into the auditorium in her oxeblood coat and just absorbs the room - and is disappointed?! She quickly finds her place near her classmates, while she examines this surprising emotion.
This has always been the main auditorium and the centre of the school, but now, it's somehow smaller.
Sabrina's gossiping seems so shallow and insignificant.

She nods to Torrance and Jove as she passes them.

No its not the school that has changed, it's her. She spent her summer sailing the Mediterranean, working at archaeological dig sites. Being away from home and living by herself for almost a month has changed her - for the better. So much has changed, she has moved so far, that it feels like her friends and school haven't moved at all and thus are far behind.Please be interesting. Please don't be boring. She mutters to herself as she turns her attention to the podium.

Kyle walks in and automatically moves towards the back of the seats, his preferred location to be out of sight and out of mind. They're full already. Shifting slightly he heads towards on of the sides and passes the scatter with the headphones. I guess that's one advantage, no need to lock up he thinks as he knows he passed her on the way in but she beat him to the assembly as he had to divert and lock up his bike at one of the racks.

He scans the faces around him. He was only here half of last year so most are still unfamiliar to him and he knows few names. Seeing an opening he slides into a spot a bit behind and towards the center of the room, dumps his pack and pulls out his phone. The kids around Kyle shift but otherwise ignore him, something that has been happening alot more since things got weird at the end of the last term. Hooking into the schools wifi was simple enough and he started testing it's security just to pass the time. He then pauses and looks around, curious to see if things looked any different. Since things got weird he has been getting odd flashes and impressions from different people and lotions. He's still trying to figure out what it all means

Pre-assembly calisthenics aside, Jon had some mixed emotions walking up the steps of Founder's Hall. The steps and railings still held the night's chill even as the sun's rays warmed everything the light touched. The whole affair hung with the feeling of closed circles, the beginning of the end and the end of beginnings. A couple of girls hurried past him as he stood on the marble steps looking up at the Hall, the feeling of an Ouroboros moment delaying him for just a beat. He cracked a slim smile and shook his head to dismiss the portentous pressure he felt building inside him.

Inside the Hall, all dark wood and brass older than his great grandparents, soaked up the light and muffled the sounds of the 400-odd students gathering inside. Familiar faces cropped up out of the crowd along with new students he'd never laid eyes on before. He nodded as he passed the well-dressed girl at the auditorium doorway. Myra Lockwood, the very definition of old money & prestige, looking as if she were surveying her domain as he spoke to her , "Back in the States, eh? Eventful summer?" Rumor was she'd spent the summer abroad and the dusky color of her skin confirmed she'd seen plenty of sun. He noticed the eye contact passing between Lockwood and Sabrina, and the lack of love lost between the two girls. Jon was one of the few people who were on-the-level civil with the Gossip Girl; he had nothing to fear from her. Almost everyone else walked on eggshells around Sabrina, careful of what she may (or may not) know about them. Honestly, he felt pity for her. It must be exhausting living in her world of secrets and false faces. It was exhausting even being in proximity to it. Regardless, he met Sabrina's gaze and gave an acknowledging half-smile her way before turning back to Myra. She seemed different than before, somehow crestfallen or let down in some way.

Minsoo slips into the room; one of the last to arrive. She rubs the cuff of her tartan shirt against her forehead, as beads of sweat were just beginning to glisten there. Just as Wren was adjusting her headphones, so too was Minsoo adjusting hers; pulling them down to sit around her neck like some sort of airplane pillow.

"Sorry, sorry!" she says politely enough as she shimmies down the row of seated students until she finds her friends. She fumbles with her phone as the music still streams out of the unworn headset. She loved all types of music, but there was still something embarrassing about other kids hearing what she was listening to: Like they were peeking behind the curtain at her most vulnerable self.

"Phew! I was worried I was going to miss this." she says, rolling her eyes and jostling her friends as a joke.

Torrence nodded to Kim in sarcastic agreement, not overly familiarly, but enough to acnowledge the comment and agree with it.
It wasnt that Torrence was trying to be distant, but more that he was terrible at making friends and didnt really have any. At least as far as he was aware.

The students were seated in rows roughly according to their form class, at four hundred students per cohort that meant eight senior classes altogether, although they would split and join classes according to subject specialisations, meaning one would know a whole bunch of other schoolmates beyond one's own class.

On stage you could see a mix of familiar and few faces among the teachers arrayed. As befitting the graduating batch, some of the most experienced teaching staff were on that stage, no doubt assigned to bring to bear their expertise to sharpen the most brilliant minds. Dr Thorne, Dr Veritas and Professor Strom were the science triumvirate helming their respective departments at the STEM lab, all three seated next to each other. Ms Alwood, your form teacher last year, made eye contact with some of you, leading you to wonder if she would continue to be your form teacher this year. Coach Corbin swapped his usual tracksuit for a proper sportsjacket, but this would be the only day you would catch him wearing one. The two individuals whose suits made them appear more out of place than the coach were seated closest to Headmaster Blackwood's chair, for they seemed to be wearing identically matched dark grey tailored wool, one male, one female, with the tightest of combed back hairstyles.

The atmosphere was lively and abuzz, the air electric, even if there were those for whom coming back to school was a cause for anxiety, or received with indifference, or worse, downright empty and void of feeling.

Myra and Torrance somehow had the sensation that they were being observed, although the classmates in the seats next to them did not seem to feel the same thing. Perhaps 'observed' was too strong a word, they felt 'sensed', or 'registered', or 'noted'. It was vague, fleeting, but present nonetheless.

More affected were Kyle and Wren, in their stilling themselves to go with the flow of their surroundings. For Kyle, the available networks list showing on his phone had a bunch of options he did not recognise. Not that that itself was an issue, but it was the case that some of the strange ones seemed to give off a stronger signal strength than even the school's own networks. Wren's encounter was more frazzling. She expected the usual when she tucked the headphones over her ears, which was an isolating of frequencies. What she got instead was a shock. Joe, and Jonathan, just a few chairs away in the next row, seemed to be 'shouting' at her through the speakers, so loud that she had to pull them off again quickly.

"Welcome back, Senior students of Ashford State High School!" Headmaster Blackwood began just as the large clock above the auditorium stage showed 9am sharp. "It is good to see all of you well rested and eager for another year of learning what your love. I hope that you spent your summer fruitfully ..." But the same thought struck Joe, Jonathan, Kyle, Minsoo, Myra, Wren and Torrance separately, almost, but not quite at the same time. Surely they had been seated for the better part of four to five minutes. Decidedly each of them cut across the school grounds, past the Redevelopment Wing at 8.58am, especially if they glanced at their watches to assure themselves that they made it on time. Also concerningly each of them was worried about not making it to school on time, for Harris would close the gates on everyone at 0900 hours on the dot, and they all barely made it.

Were they even ever at risk of being late?

Blackwood's welcome speech gathered momentum, but not everyone was listening.

Rested and eager…

Minsoo let air blow through her nose in derision, but only enough for her own benefit. That was one way to put her feelings surrounding summer ending!

It felt like only five minutes ago that the bell had rung and dismissed them for the summer vacation. And yet… Five minutes. She puts a hand to the scruff of her t-shirt and flaps it out and in to cool down. She was still a bit hot, but the sweating, little though it was had stopped. Which meant…

She’d been here… How long had she been here?…

She wrinkles her nose at the odd little thought, but shakes the thought free and continues to listen to Blackwood.

Or at least she tried…

Myra is looking around the room for the source of the sensension of being watched. She noticed it when she came home from her trip, how a shape was put around her when she entered her family home. Something like a sleeping bag, warm, comfortable, safe, but without room to swing your arms.

Her gaze landed on the twins, the strange newcomers.
Does anyone know who they are? She asks quietly.
The twins in the grey suits up there, next to the headmaster?

She is sure that it's them that is giving her the observation-vibe.

Joe is puzzled. He barely had time to see Emily off in the direction of her class before coming straight into the hall; and he’s fairly sure he’s been sitting here for a few minutes. Yet the principal -Headmaster- rose to speak on the very dot of nine a.m. suggesting that he’s an old-school stickler out to send a message.
Fat lot of good that is if the main hall clock is slow, but maybe the Head has no sense of irony or introspection, and doesn’t realise his message is wide of the mark, and very publicly too.
Joe surreptitiously checks his watch against the clock; he’s not going to dig out his phone, he suspects that could too easily attract unwanted attention. He idly wonders if he’s hearing a speech given exactly the same, word-for-word and beat-for-beat, to every new group of Seniors, and begins checking to see if the Head is hitting any other beats equally pointedly.

Jon has settled into a seat arrayed around his Form class and settled back. These first-day addresses tended to be, more or less, a dress rehearsal for the graduating speeches the Headmaster and teaching staff would give next May. The kind of thing peppered with references that they'd callback to in 8-9 months time and feel clever about. Very few, if any, of the students ever caught the references and fewer cared.
He sat near Teller and Shawn Ryans, mainly because he knew Shawn could be entertaining...and to keep the 'troublemakers' grouped together for easier surveillance by the school staff. He thought is was too early in the year to be causing issues. Yet.

He'd been studying his way through the ocean of faces around him, new and old, while he ignored the Headmaster's speech. Croft's mention of the time and the sudden chiming of the bell refocused Jon's attention back to the moment at hand. It couldn't be just now 9am... He'd barely made it up the school steps at 8:58. Maybe the bell was off? Maybe something over the summer had set it back a few minutes. *Odd...* Jon thought to himself. *That's twice in as many hours that something weird happened. First the dream-rewind and now this. Spooky...*

He heard Myra whispering a couple of rows away from him and made eye contact with her. Shrugging his ignorance about the Twins, he whispered back. "No idea who they are. Hope they're not new Counselors..." He was sure Croft would introduce them soon.

Myra whispers back. They look like they could suck out the joy of a rainbow