Swords & Axes: A Cheerless Interlude
by The Jessica X

Libby, Sabrina, et al. are © Archie Comics / Hartbreak / Paramount / Whatever.
Adymm and the members of In Absinthia are © me, so there.
This work of fiction is © myself.

Chapter 4: The Way You Freak Tonight

Before I could think too hard about it and craft a reasonable excuse to go back to bed, I heard a knock. "Just a minute!"

I don't know how Adymm talked me into this. Wasn't there something less painful I could be doing, like... having my teeth drilled? I took one last look at my hair - which was perfect after many, many hours of labour - and opened the door.

"Wow," he says with a nervous laugh. "Libbs, I- I knew you were hot, but... wow."

"What? You like it?"

"You look amazing." His voice was almost a whisper. I rolled my eyes.

"Absolutely shameless, Koriander; you picked it out."

"Yeah, but you still have to pull it off - and trust me, you do." His elbow stuck out at me. "Mademoiselle?"

"Monsieur," I reply as I take it, trying not to laugh.

The grand ballroom looked... I guess "grand" is the only word for it. There have never been parties or dances like this in Westbridge, I can tell you that; glittering candelabras, a floor polished to mirrored perfection, and a string orchestra - a REAL orchestra! If I didn't know better, I'd say the champagne at the tables was real instead of sparkling cider.

How'd we look? Like relics of a bygone age, that's how. I had this violet Victorian-esque gown that probably cost a few hundred dollars; black lace, pearls, the works. Oh, and it turns out we're allowed makeup for stuff like this, which is... um, necessary? Adymm, on the other hand, was in some moldy old suit, with all the ruffles and an ascot and whatever. He looked pretty good for a painting from yesteryear, I guess. Thing is, these outfits were all his idea, to do something interesting and shake things up; I'd just as soon sit around in my room and skip the whole thing, but as long as he's paying for the garb...

Oh, I completely forgot to mention this before: Adymm's parents come from money. OLD money, and it's not being squandered away, either; they'll be rich indefinitely. He doesn't like to talk about them that much, but when he does, it's all about limousines and servants - all the things I've been aching for my whole life. That is, I guess I used to... having a bathroom to myself sounds luxurious these days.

That was one magical evening. The music, the lights, the scents on the air (was he wearing Tommy?)... it was so surreal, yet I knew it was more real than anything I've ever experienced... except maybe those days when I thought I'd be living on the street, which were too real.

A couple hours later found us at a table, downing the faux bubbly and laughing at the clumsier dancers.

"And that guy glides so gracefully down the halls..."

"I noticed." I rubbed my nose. "It's almost like he's got two different sets of legs, and tonight he's wearing the sucky pair."

"Yeah." There had been something he'd been skirting around all night, and I kept wondering what it was... until just about now. "Say Libbs..."

"Hmm?"

"You should come to New York."

I glanced at him. "What do you mean?"

"When we get out... you should come to New York. I mean, I don't know where your dad lives, but worst case scenario we'll be a couple of subway hops away from each other... and we could always meet up somewhere to hang out."

I shifted uncomfortably; that's what I thought. "Adymm, that's really sweet and all, but... but I don't think-"

That harsh, bitter laugh I alternately loved and hated to hear. "Yeah, I knew it was stupid. Forget it."

"No, it's just that-" I coughed. "I have no idea where I'm going to college. It really all comes down to that, y'know."

"Why do you even need college? You're hot, and you can sing; I keep telling you-"

"Look, freakboy," I said flatly, "I am NOT putting myself in front of the glare of cameras only to have Simon Cowell rip me a new one. Stop bringing it up, 'cause as much as I know I could win over a normal audience, that man gives no one a fair shake."

"Okay, so forget Hollywood, Miss Ivy League. What do you want to do?"

I fidgeted absentmindedly with my champagne flute. "...I dunno? I thought I'd figure it out when I get there."

"Well, it's not like you're too dumb, and I have proof."

"I still don't know how you found those acceptance letters, you little sneak."

He turned to look more directly at me, eyes rolling around like a gyroscope. "How can you be embarassed by getting into everywhere? I mean, Princeton, Cornell, Adams, Harvard-"

"I didn't get into Yale." Grasping at straws much?

"Screw Yale, then! More importantly, you got into Columbia, which means you could just commute from your dad's. Kinda takes care of everything, doesn't it?"

"Oh, there's incentive; go to school in beautiful, scenic Harlem."

"It's not as bad as it sounds!"

"Suuuure it isn't."

He sighed. "So no Columbia. I still say you should really think about-"

"Don't even say-"

"Juilliard."

I gritted my teeth. "Would you quit it? I am not that good, and we both know it."

"No, we don't! Your voice is killer, and they'd be lucky to have you - hell, I'd try to recruit you if I thought you'd ever stoop to singing rock."

"Adymm-"

"Look, girl," he said as he leaned back, "all this crap might sound damn confusing now, but... well, you got options. Me, I'm barely making a B average, so it'll take a miracle to get me into NYU, or even Queens College."

"Well, it's not because you're stupid - you're just too stupid to care."

"That's right," he said grinning, "I don't care. My path in life has been predestined, and it involves strings and amps, not pencils and books. For me, the college thing is just a way to kill some time, appease the parents and learn a possible backup skill for when my career hits a slump."

"Your career is a slump."

"Oh, go die."

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He was right about one thing: I wasn't sure what to do with my life. This whole boarding school deal is a lot more distracting than I thought it would be, and when I wasn't caught up in the academics of it all or being an island unto myself, I still wouldn't be thinking about college because it seemed so... unimportant, or far away or something.

But the whole conversation helped me make up my mind; Columbia University. Neighbourhood notwithstanding, it's a very well-reputed Ivy League, and (thanks, Adymm) I could live with my father while attending. If I wanted to transfer after the first year, I'd have plenty of time to formulate a game plan, but right now I just didn't have accurate resources or time... nevermind that it was easier to deal with finals and all that without one more decision hanging over my head.

Still... Harvard was tempting. Not only because they're the best - period - but going there would mean I'd be like, a stone's throw from Sabrina. If I wasn't so set on going Ivy, I could go to Adams and be right in her backyard! Then again, I didn't know her post high school plans, but as long as her aunts live there I could at least stop by and see her at Christmas. It was a nice thought, and one I intended to think hard about over the next year.

Even worse than all this was the fact that I still had no idea what I wanted to be... a physicist or a doctor? Too much math. A lawyer, maybe? I could definitely see myself as a courtroom shark (prosecutor all the way!), but it also sounded stressful. A fashion designer? Sure, but what are the odds of me making it?

Juilliard... no way. Maybe I have a good voice, but they only take the best of the best - I have a better shot in the fashion world.

The future definitely felt less than solid to me. All I knew for sure was that I was smart, sensible, beautiful... and completely clueless.

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END Chapter Four