Andrea closed her door behind her and looked at Helena's door with hesitation, wondering whether she should even bother or if she should reach out with an olive branch and knock.
What would Pastor Carmichael say? "Something about turning the other cheek..." She muttered, and decided to bring her something back – maybe a muffin, Wait, do they even like muffins in Germany?
She rolled her eyes and made for the exit, "Obviously they do! Where they come from be damned – who doesn't like a free muffin?'
She had counted her pennies and dimes and carried with her a massive thirteen dollars and fifty-three cents. How much that could get her in a city like this was beyond her. Did they even accept the dollar? Do they even accept the Euro? Was the city pro- or anti-Brexit?! These were the kinds of questions that would have been helpful to ask when she had Julian's attention. All she knew was that Julian was going to give her an allowance in pounds, so at least that was set in stone.
"What is the exchange rate anyway..." Andrea hadn't missed the fact that she was talking to herself. But seeing as how her roommate wanted her gone, and Julian apparently fine with hiding the ten percent-sacrifice thing, her only other positive interactions were with invisible people -- and Walter. That did not bode well for her come the start of the school year.
She took the elevator down and approached the reception box to get a better lay of the land, but Walter had clocked out between her almost being thrown out a window, and was replaced by a large, and she meant large – Black man wearing a black beanie with a navy-blue Adidas tracksuit and a white shirt putting in a shift to contain his mass. Andrea could admit that when it came to geography, she was going toe-to-toe with an Appalachia inbred. But even she knew what sat before her, in its infinite size, was a gentleman of the pathway, a male of the track, a squire of the pavement, a roadman...
Andrea had never had the fortune of seeing one in the wild, but she had to take the opportunity to hammer home not to use the lingo. No matter how tempting it was. Helena had been forgiving... well, not really, but her act of violence was not because of Andrea's linguistic slip-up. She honestly did not know what the reason was, but at least she knew that was not the reason. For all she knew, one misplaced 'innit' and he would have her flying through the void with the flick of a wrist.
She knocked on the glass and waved, and he nodded his head at her, pulling out an earphone, "What can I do for you?"
"Hi," So far, so good, "My name is Andrea, and I'm new here. So, I was kinda hoping you could point me to the direction I need and maybe answer a couple questions I have."
He nodded his head, "Alright, ask away then."
"Thanks! Okay, so first of all, what currency do y'all accept here in Calriddia?'
He shrugged, "Anything goes, yeah. Euro, Sterling, Dollar, whatever."
Andrea thanked God a million and one times before asking another question, "Thank you! Good to know. Okay, so, if I wanted to get something to eat, say a muffin, where would you suggest I go?"
He tapped a finger off his chin before snapping his finger, "Okay. If you want something cheap, yeah, go to Abba's down the road. Just go right, yeah, carry on and you can't miss it. But if you want variety, Molly's is where you'd need to go. Molly's is the exact opposite way, ya get me?"
She nodded her head and concluded that what had occurred was a conversation in English, "Thank you. I'm sorry but, I never got your name..."
"Teddy," he said, trying to put his earphones back. "But my friends call me Ted Bundy."
Andrea hid her frown well, "Well, thanks Teddy. I'll be seeing you."
She exited the Witan and, without hesitation, took a right and never looked back. The streets were cobbled even here, and the buildings were a little less gothic and dramatic, for a more red-brick type of look. But even still, the magic could still be felt. The trees that sprouted from out the pavement were all equally distanced from each other, with the branches and leaves swaying, as would happen if there were a strong breeze. But there wasn't a lick of wind, and she noted that the trees were dancing somewhat, which she found amazing. Andrea even spent five minutes just standing in front of a tree that was particularly moving, well, as much as a tree could. The citizens were a display of magic all in a league of their own. Some people would walk alongside each other, their grocery bags floating behind them.
A girl wearing the most basic outfit of jeans, sneakers and a hoodie, laughed as she surfed through the air on top of an actual surfboard. In the park across from the Witan, she saw a group of boys and girls a few years younger than her playing hacky sack, kicking the sack farther than she could throw it, and using teleportation or superspeed, dependent on the person, to retrieve what should not have been retrievable.
And it was not just the people who radiated magic like a heater, but the environment was magical too. The green grass was greener; the flowers were more flowery; the lake's water bluer; even the sound was more... sound-y? Andrea was many things, but a poet was certainly not one of them.
Andrea could have spent the rest of her day just sitting back and watching humanity do what it did best, but this time, with the addition of magic. Unfortunately, she could not for fear of coming off as a creep, and also because she wanted something to eat. She continued down the pavement nearest to the park, waving at a kid who had just fallen from 15-feet in the air and landed like a feather on a pillow. Soon enough, a serial killer's prophecy came true, as she came to a stop at the corner shop named Abba's. She entered to find your run-of-the-mill corner store and was happy about it. For all the magical whimsy the city had shown her in the little time Andrea had spent in it, it did ding its image some when she knew that forty 16-year-olds were about to be sacrificed to keep it all going.
Andrea walked through the small aisles, as she would have done at her own corner store back home, picking out two large bags of chips and a can of coke before approaching the small bakery in the corner that gave her the English muffin that she was looking for.
"How you doing?" Andrea asked once she reached the till. The elderly Indian man behind the till was short and burly, smiled at her, his magnificent moustache twitching and moving with his lips, "American? I am doing fine. How are you?"
She smiled and shrugged, "I am, for better or worse."
He chuckled as he worked to give her back her change, "Only an American would think so. Live anywhere else that isn't Europe, and it will be more better than worse, I assure you."
Andrea accepted the bag and her change and had to concede with a sheepish smile, "That's a fair point, Mister. I'll keep that in mind. Thank you and have a nice day."
She was out on her way she bounced off what could have been a truck for all she knew. Andrea was thankful that her legs did not fail her this time around.
"I am so sorry!" A man said, his outstretched hands helping her right herself. Andrea did not respond immediately, her tongue had lost a wrestling match with an imaginary cat as she looked up at what could only be described as an Adonis. His brown skin was flawless, his height meant she would need a pogo stick to headbutt him, and his build was straight out of a surfing videogame. His nose was plucked off some statue and if you had told her that his line-up had been done by NASA with a laser, she would not have heard you because she was too enamored by his eyes. His eyes were big, brown, round – fenced in by eyelashes so immaculate that she was, legitimately, jealous. But what won her heart was the genuine look of concern that filled those eyes.
"I-I'm fine, I'm... thank you," she said, taking a step back before ironing herself out with her hands. I look like trash, Andrea thought, on this day of all days! Why God?!
"That's good," he said, his hand glided through his hair as he spoke, "Forgive me, love. I was in my head somewhat. It's been a long day."
He is gonna be in my head all day long now too, "No worries. I should've been looking where I was going anyways."
He snorted and shook his head, "Please, you just came out of Abba's store, you shouldn't have been expecting me." He then raised an eyebrow and his smile grew, "American?"
"Apparently," she said, matching his smile. Andrea met his outstretched hand with one of her own, "My name is Nathaniel, but you can call me Nate."
She laughed, "Are you sure? Not John Wayne Gracy or something?"
He was, rightfully, confused by that, and Andrea tried not to cringe.
"Sorry! I met a guy earlier, by the name of Teddy. But he said his friends call him Ted Bundy and so I thought – Never mind. My name is Andrea Salem."
Nate laughed, "Oh? Well, sorry to disappoint but, I am no serial killer. Not yet anyway."
She tried not to focus on staring at his eyes, and kept her gaze focused on his full lips instead, Golly! When did I become such a lame?! "I'm not sure Camelot would appreciate a student going all psycho."
He shrugged, "I am not so sure that a school like Camelot can judge much, seeing as how it sacrifices its own students." Touché, "Speaking of which," he said, looking her up and down, "You're a first year, correct?"
Andrea frowned. "Bruh, is it really that easy to tell?"
Nate smiled and shook his head, "I mean, besides never seeing you before, you're also leaking, that's a dead giveaway."
She was mortified as she tried to look behind her in the reflection of Abba's shop's huge window, "I'm what?!"
Nate seemed confused a moment before realization came a-knocking and he burst out into heavy laughter. His laughter only added to her embarrassment, and she was about to turn and run home when she felt his warm hand wrap around her wrist to stop her, "Wait!" Nate said, trying to fight through his laughter, "I don't mean it like that."
"Then like what?" She snapped, and that got him to stop polluting her air with his laughter. He cleared his throat, "Sorry! Man, I am just made of apologies today. But I meant, magically, you're just leaking your magic around."
"Oh..." Andrea said, still clueless, "Is that a bad thing?"
Nate pondered on her question a moment before answering, "Well, not necessarily. It is like -- how do I explain it -- it is like playing music out of your phone when walking in public. You're drawing attention to yourself whilst the rest of us have air Pods in."
Damn, Andrea thought, I'm moving out here like a nuisance! And not for the first time did she silently curse Julian for having left her so ignorant.
"Man... Would you believe me if I told you that I only found out about magic like, two days ago?"
"Yes," Nate said, without hesitation, before pointing at his phone. "How about you take my details, yeah? I don't mind showing you around the place."
That lifted her spirits, and she gladly did as instructed, "You have no idea how much I appreciate this, Nate."
"I don't mind, so don't worry about it." He said, handing her back his phone, "If you need help with anything, just let me know. I'm a third-year, so I know a thing or two."
Andrea waved to him as he turned to enter Abba's, and she opened her phone to see his profile picture, just checking it out. No lame activity here...
She was disappointed to see that his profile picture was not of him, and it took her a moment to see that it was of the Eye that both Julian and Mr. Pennyworth had warned her about. Andrea stopped and almost gulped as she turned to see Nate laughing with the kind man at the till, waving and winking at her when he caught her staring.
She deleted his number and continued on her way.