The longer Felicity lived at Pembroke the more convinced she became that the school was hurtling around the sun at approximately twice the speed as the rest of the world. The weeks flew by in blur of green and gold, as though the students had traded part of their immense fortunes to speed up time, the sooner they could begin their real lives as trust fund managers, CEOs, and socialites. Felicity's life was a haze of glossy mahogany desks, stone archways, and endless piles of homework. Specifics like individual conversations, the contents of her breakfast, and the questions on the pop quiz in Roman History class were all lost to her.
Her mother attempted to pry details from her via text: Was she happy? Had she made friends? What was it like, being surrounded by all those yuppies? Felicity struggled to answer. She couldn't say she was happy, exactly, but she was busy, busier than she ever had been before. For now, that was enough.
In her rare moments of calmness, Felicity sat back and wondered at the state of her life. Half the time she still had a hard time believing it was her life and not some strange, lavish dream. At the same time she found herself slowly adjusting her surroundings. She no longer marveled at the entrance hall's sweeping grand staircase or the swans in the lake or the fact that she fell asleep each night in a four poster bed in the turret of a castle.
As for Oliver Queen, Felicity hadn't spoken to him since she had brought the bullet riddled computer to his dorm room her first week of school. Occasionally she saw him in the dining hall and he'd tip his head in her direction in the universal dude sign of acknowledgment. But he had not sought her out again. She had hoped he might present her with another technological challenge. And if she was being really honest with herself, she had also hoped he'd take her up on her offer of friendship. Not that he needed more friends. Every time Felicity saw him, he was surrounded by people. He was rarely the one talking, seeming to prefer sitting back and letting the others entertain him. Felicity herself mostly hung out with Sara and Nyssa, and occasionally a sweet girl named Cindy from her French class who was almost as abysmal at the language as Felicity was.
One Friday night at the end of September, Felicity was sitting on her bed surrounded by French translation books when Sara burst into the dorm and, seeing Felicity, threw her hands in the air. "There you are! Why are you still in your uniform? We have to go!"
Felicity sat up and brushed a lock of sweaty hair out of her face. Her head was spinning with verb tenses and conjunctions. She stifled a yawn. "Go where?"
Sara was dressed in a sleeveless black jumpsuit. Silver eyeshadow rimmed her wide blue eyes. She looked like a mix of a beach babe and a particularly stylish alien. "To the Burns," she said, rolling her eyes as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "We're late. Come on."
Felicity's forehead wrinkled. "What's the Burns?"
Sara's impatient look faltered. "Oh crap. Did I forget to tell you?"
The urge to yawn was overwhelming. "Tell me what?" Felicity asked. Whatever the Burns was Felicity didn't think she was in the mood to go. She had just been about change into her pajamas. And had she even eaten dinner yet? She couldn't remember.
Sara winced. "Okay, so I forgot to tell you. That's my bad. Look, just get changed and we can still get there in time for the good part. Here—" she strode over to her bureau and riffled through its contents, tossing the undesired items over her shoulder into a pile on the floor. Finding what she was looking for, she spun around and threw a piece of black fabric towards Felicity. "Put that on."
Felicity held up the strip of cloth. At first glance she had assumed it was a headband or a sock but upon closer inspection she realized it was in fact an extremely tightfitting black dress. "I don't think this is going to fit me."
Sara waved away her concern. "It stretches."
Felicity was grumbling but somehow she was also standing and shucking her uniform and pulling the stretchy black fabric over her head and rolling it down over her hips. She didn't know why she was letting Sara drag her out. The best reason she could come up with was that she simply didn't have the energy to protest.
Sara's eyes raked her up and down. "That'll do. Now put on your shoes. No, not those ones. The boots."
Felicity yawned again as she dropped the oxfords she had been about to put on and fumbled around under the bed for her combat boots. She slid them onto her feet and straightened up. "So are you going to tell me what this burning thing is?"
"The Burns," Sara corrected her. "I'll tell you as we walk!"
The hallways were strangely quiet for 10 pm on a Friday. At this time of night there was usually a bunch of people hanging out in the lounges watching movies or playing foosball and video games in the Rec Room. Tonight, the only movement was the shafts of pale moonlight sliding languidly across the floor.
"Where is everyone?" Felicity asked, and she hurried to keep up with Sara.
The lighter blonde glanced back at her. "They're already outside. I keep telling you we're late."
"That's not my fault," Felicity said crossly. "I don't even know where we're going."
They took the stairs of the main staircase two at the time.
"Every year on September date there's a… I guess you could call it a gathering, in the woods behind the castle to celebrate the founding of the school," Sara explained. "It's tradition. Everyone goes. Sometimes alumni even show up. It's sort of a big deal."
They strode out the main entrance into the cool night air. The fogginess began to clear from Felicity's head as they traversed the dewy grass and headed around the back of the castle. "I thought you hated traditions."
Sara glanced back at her, grinning. "I'm willing to make an exception for the Burns. The headmaster and the professors all turn a blind eye, because, you know, tradition. A couple semesters ago the bonfire got a little out of hand and someone called the fire department. After that the sheriff's office tried to forbid the Burns from happening but rumor has it the Board of Trustees paid them off to pretend they don't know exactly when it's going down every year. That's how committed these people are to their traditions."
Felicity couldn't help noticing how Sara said 'these people' as though she were not one of them. It occurred to her that she knew very little of Sara's background. She had always assumed she was a trust fund baby like the most of the student population. Maybe she had been wrong.
Sara led her toward the woods that ringed the lake behind the castle. As they neared the tree line the moon slid behind a large cloud. In the sudden darkness Felicity tripped over a large root and almost fell before Sara grabbed her elbow and steadied her. As she straightened up Felicity noticed the faint rumbling of voices and the low thump of a bass filtering through the trees.
"Almost there!" Sara grabbed Felicity's hand and drew her further into the woods. Felicity began to make out individual shouts of laughter. Someone yelled "Hey, man, don't tip over the keg!" Dark figures darted through the trees. Then suddenly Felicity and Sara emerged into a clearing.
Felicity stopped short. Sara's hand slipped from her grasp. There were people everyone, all of them dressed in black. Some wore masks that covered the upper sections of their face. It was warmer in the clearing. The goosebumps on Felicity's arms and legs evaporated. A steady beat pounded out of a large stereo system set up between two large fir trees. Some intrepid students had removed the bust of Sir Walter from the entrance hall and placed him in a position of honor near the center of clearing. They'd even gussied him up with a black mask of his own.
And in the center of it all, a huge bonfire twisted towards the indigo sky above. Every few seconds the flames snapped impatiently, sending bursts of sparks leaping into the air. Sara turned to Felicity. In the deep shadows thrown by the firelight the foxishness of her smile was even more pronounced. "Welcome to the Burns!"