8: Cliques and Outcasts
“I’m glad you like it,” she said, faking a smile, “It’s-it’s called a fairy. They’re like, nature spirits. They look after the planet and…” she paused, eyes fixated on the cobbled street, “I-I’m being silly. I’m sorry.”
Joel put a comforting arm around her. “C’mon, Kao, don’t worry about it. It’s cool to believe in things like that,”
Once again, Kaori was trying to hold back tears and Joel smothered her, as if hiding her from a watching world. He gave Phantasia a reassuring smile as he stroked Kaori’s back.
“I should probably get going,” she said, acknowledging how her friends’ auras were closing like protective shells, “I mean, I did promise I was going to meet Shelley, after all!”
Joel winced and the couple’s aura fluctuated like water disturbed by a thrown rock. “Guess you’re off to the gallery then.” he said through pursed lips.
Phantasia nodded and waited for a response from Kaori, but she had cut herself off from Phantasia entirely. It was as if a wall had thrust itself up between them once again. How could the mere mention of Shelley’s name provoke such a reaction? And why would it? Phantasia wanted answers, but Joel was already leading Kaori away. Maybe it was just another one of those strange human quirks she didn’t understand yet. Annoyed at both her ignorance, and her own stupidity at mentioning Shelley’s name, Phantasia left Poe Street and its colourful collection of Ravens and began the long trek to the other side of town, where the Hawk’s held their own territory.
The gallery was the half-renovated wreckage of a large building, whose pillared architecture appeared to date back further than anything else she’d seen so far, while an electronic banner sat dead above the entrance as a reminder of how humans tainted even their most stunning constructions with unnecessary flair. Groups of young people were clustered outside, many on the grey steps that rose towards the building’s entrance. Most paid her little attention as she walked past, but one came bounding down the steps towards her. It was Shelley, still dressed in the same uniformed clothing that everyone else around the gallery was wearing.
Shelley flung her arms around her, before pulling away and trying not to meet Phantasia’s eyes. “I didn’t think you’d come,” she said “I-I don’t know how the others will take it. But you should come over anyway!” She bounded back up the steps, pausing only to beckon Phantasia upwards.
Shelley’s friends – the same ones from the school, with a few others Phantasia didn’t recognise – were not thrilled to see the white-haired girl. Shelley attempted to apologise and explain, but Vincent cut off her stumbling sentences before they ever found their ground.
“You know having someone like her around us is seriously denting our kudos? Haven’t you seen the way Sir Leonardo is looking at us? At her? She’s cramping our style.”
Phantasia followed the group’s gaze towards a young man, probably no older than nineteen or twenty, who was standing at the top of the steps surveying the crowds. Unlike the other boys, his black coat was lined with golden thread, and the Hawks’ emblem was tattooed across his bare chest.
“Sir Leonardo is so cool,” said Elone with a longing sigh. Vincent frowned and Phantasia felt a surge of negative energy radiating from him, which he attempted to hide by changing the subject.
“Shelley, please, could you sort this girl out?” he said.
