The Book of Firsts

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The first day of the last year of high school brought me a fresh consignment of strangers. The idea that I might know some of this batch for more than a few months had preoccupied me ever since I’d arrived in Helios. With parents who changed countries on average twice a year, there’d been precious little continuity in my life, but the approach of final exams had won me an apartment of my own, and an uninterrupted year at Corascur High, a gateway school to one of the top universities in the world. If I didn’t sabotage myself, I’d be in this city for at least the next six years.

Corascur made this change of pace doubly odd. Both selective and expensive, it was the kind of place politicians and CEOs sent their children. Behind a double-high fence, buildings formed islands among a sea of trees. I spent the morning on the fringe of the junior orientation tour, half-listening to an excess of tradition and rules, and then tucked up the back of an enormous theatre, ignoring the speeches.

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