7: The Lost Hawk
When the opportunity arose, she detached herself from Kaori’s circle of friends and wandered the school halls in search of Shelley. She normally appeared and disappeared from the common room on a whim, with few people ever noticing she was there, but once again Phantasia’s natural instincts managed to lead her in the right direction. Shelley was outside the Art department in Ruby House, along with a small group of students all wearing the same long, black coats emblazoned with hawk-like tribal designs.
Teenage fashion was yet another thing Phantasia found undecipherable. As a faerie, her natural clothes were as ethereal as her body – all astral manifestations with no material weight, though unlike her body, she could change her clothes on impulse. Since arriving in the Outerworld, she had made an effort to wear human clothes to help blend in, but her haphazard idea of clothing combinations always brought her strange looks. The other day, she had tried to mimic Lyra’s battered wardrobe by dragging some of her clothes through the foliage outside the church, only to find herself compared to a tramp. Today she was playing it safe by wearing a t-shirt.
Even though fashion was confusing, there were similarities between faeries and humans though. Just as faeries wore clothes and colours that matched their element, so too did humans wear what matched their personality – or, at least, that was the idea. Phantasia noted that many people wore not what matched who they were, but who they wanted to be. In other words it was an unintentional lie, an illogical deception. Faye would be bewildered by such behaviour!
This particular group gave Phantasia unfavourable stares from beneath their over-groomed hair when she approached. Unlike the sneering spite of Astrid, their disapproval was just because Phantasia wasn’t like them. It was an attitude she was familiar with from Fire faeries, who were known for their pride. Shelley, standing apart from the group but still very much a part of it – or wishing she was – perked up when she saw her saviour approach.
“Hey! Just thought I’d come and see how you were,” said Phantasia, remembering to wave to try and put Shelley at ease.
“I-I…” Shelley stammered, glancing over at the looks she was getting from her peers and almost crumbling beneath them, “I’m okay.”
Phantasia turned and smiled at the others, hoping it would diffuse the situation. They stared back at her, and then one boy came forward. Taller than Phantasia, with messy hair that covered his face, he appeared to be the leader of this particular social circle. His name was Vincent, and Phantasia had noticed before that he had some sort of friendship with Byron – but refused to associate with any of Byron’s friends.
“You’re Phantasia,” he said, “Heard about you. Heard you’re a bit of a weirdo,” he looked her up and down from beneath his thick fringe of dark hair, “Sure don’t look like a Hawk to me. What’re you doing here?”
“I’m just being friendly,” she replied honestly.
Vincent continued to stare at her, as if he were analysing her for something. Elone, a girl with crimson hair and intricate designs drawn over half her face, leaned over and whispered something in his ear. Phantasia knew she wasn’t meant to hear it, but they were unaware of her perceptive abilities.
“She’s a freak. Get her away from us.”
