For two weeks, my life was an endless round of group television watching, group discussions and forms, group meals and group walks. Every night I fell into bed, too tired to do more than recap my day in a brief letter and then pass out. If it weren't for the omnipresent Moleskine notebook, I wouldn't have even been taking notes; as it was, the bulk of my notes were episode summaries and bits of Authentic slang.
The orientation session was underwhelming: we were given a brief tour of the central building, lingering longest on the kitchens and the library, where we three newbies sat at a long wooden table with Alice and her somehow creepy brother, Jasper.
Maybe it was just because they'd started us on season one of Arrested Development and my imagination was running in some odd directions, but I got a really weird vibe from the two of them, much less like siblings than like...something else.
Alice did all the talking during our library meeting, but it was impossible to tell if Jasper was naturally quiet or if he just knew he couldn't get a word in edgewise when his effervescent sister was present.
The main point of the meeting seemed to be to give us a heads up of what to expect: kitchen duties, once we'd been there for a full week, and a reading list. Alice handed around the required reading list first, and I was looking over my copy and being unexpectedly reminded of first year university courses when there was a clunk near my elbow and I realized Jasper was dropping a canvas bag in front of each of us.
The bag bore the now-familiar sunrise logo, and inside I found the books listed as "unit one" on the reading list: Wuthering Heights, two old-school Harlequin romances from the 1960s or maybe early 70s, and some scifi thing called The Number of the Beast. Ugh. I wrinkled my nose at this last one. I've never been into science fiction or fantasy, and this looked even duller than most.
I sighed heavily. "How much do I owe you?" I asked, but once again they refused to accept my money. If this was, to use Jacob's slur, a cult, it was the least efficient one imaginable, at least in terms of turning a profit. So far I hadn't been asked to buy anything, sell anything, or recruit anyone else.
After that, the monotony of television watching and long walks was broken up by mandatory silent reading periods in the comfy, overstuffed armchairs scattered throughout the huge second floor library. "After two weeks, there'll be a lot more writing," Alice promised us. I waited impatiently for a change.
A rumor was going around that there were two beds open for full time members; Jessica had passed this on to me, and I was pretty sure she was trying to make me anxious, since there were three of us theoretically competing for the beds.
All the while, I kept my eyes peeled for glimpses of the Authentic's improbably handsome leader. Angela hadn't been kidding when she said he was hands-off: during those first two weeks, he didn't interact with any of us, at least not that I saw.
He did watch us, however. Or rather, he watched me. I frequently looked up from a book, or glanced away from the television, to see him staring at me from the doorway. He never approached, though, or spoke to me, and although I loved looking at him I wasn't eager for further conversation, not if it was going to consist of him warning me away and saying I shouldn't be there.
I wanted one of those two spots, damn it. I wanted in, so I could start making headway on figuring out their worldview (and possible threat level).
I did not want to be driven off by the leader before I had accomplished anything.
On my third Sunday with the Authentic, I got back to "Aunt Edna's" apartment too wound up to sleep. This was it: I'd logged two full weeks. I'd watched and re-watched the shows and movies, reread Wuthering Heights (a joy, since I loved that book) and grimly made some headway into the scifi novel (not even a little bit of a joy, at least not so far).
Surely tomorrow would bring changes: an offer of entry, or perhaps a rejection. I wrote my letter, paced around the apartment, tried to clear my head. Nothing worked. Finally I poured myself a huge glass of ice water and stepped out on the balcony, intending to enjoy the night air until I felt drowsy.
He was there.
Edward was standing on the sidewalk below me, staring up at me. I gasped out loud, and my heart pounded.