The Scholar 1: Entrance
The art school was before me. I took a step, then faltered. It was so...official looking. Could I do this? Go back to school after all these years & so many failures? Maybe it would cost too much. Maybe it had one of those ridiculous peer-reviewed grading systems. Maybe...
No. Stop & breathe. When I'd entered the photo contest & won first prize in 5 of 6 categories, The School of Creative Minds had contacted me personally. When I got to campus, they whisked me to an office & several Very Important Figures looked over my art in silence. I didn't freak; I did figure drawings & portraits. At lunch in a 5-star French restaurant, I ordered something tasty, not too expensive, not too cheap, & held my own in a debate about physics & spirituality. They insisted I go to the main campus for testing. The driver was a leering, bulky, hairy man who murmured very raunchy things under his breath. I teased him right back until he snorted laughter & cleaned up his act.
After all that, now I was frozen in fear? Ridiculous!
I looked around the garden, & inhaled deeply. Oh, such tall old trees; oak, ash, birch, elm, willow, apple, cherry, wisteria & crape myrtle; the song of wind through leaves had me twirling. The garden beds were filled with irises, lilies of the valley, all manner of wildflowers. A path of mint led down to the central fountain. Fountain? Ha. More like a manmade lake, with a beautiful central island, waterfall roaring downwards on all sides. The brick was warm under my feet, the sun warm on my head, & the breezes kept teasing my by blowing at my cherry-print dress, especially around my breasts & up my skirt...
My eyes went-half closed, & I darted around, sniffing flowers, hugging trees. I wanted dearly to strip, roll around in flowers. Creeping up to the fountain, I noticed all the god statues were all anatomically correct...& the male statues ready for action. What if I stripped, climbed in, & went over to sit on, say, Poseidon's lap. Scoot a little closer, open up...
A howling wind knocked me into a bed of thistles, goldenrod & spiky grasses. When I stood up, another wind blew me back into a tree & plastered my dress against my body. A feeling-thought-energy was in that wind, & it was all, "No. Bad. Keep your Promise."
That sure killed my libido cold. Flushing, I murmured "All right, I'll behave." Shoving my hair back, I ran upstairs & entered.
Gliding down-hall, I saw wood walls, hexagon-tile floors, sculptures, linked chandeliers forming a glittery gold serpent on arched ceiling, tall stained glass windows... I dug for my camera. No. I was 5 minutes early. Let the artist out, I'd be 30 late. Moving on, I paused at room 150's stained-glass door & saw, grapes, dancing maidens, foxes & goat-men drumming furiously. Inside was a temple to eccentricity. Desks were covered in papers, disks, films & sculptures. In corners, mannequins in Victorian costume, bird-inspired suits & flame-like dresses. In the windows, birdcages filled with glittery opalescent balls, crumbly books, a bright robin's-egg violin, rainbow-throwing crystals, tinging wind chimes, a waterfall & hibiscus plants. On the walls, paintings of dreamscapes, quotes, glittery spirals & blossoms.
A white-haired man, with loose curls to his collar, was writing furiously on a chalkboard. I read the Baudelaire quote & blushed before checking him out. Tall, slender, form-fitting cream suit, lilac shirt & mint tie. Nice ass; I wanted to cup those perfect buttocks two-handedly & squeeze.
My face flushed in shame, I said, "Hello!" a bit too loud.
He turned & I saw wide wisteria eyes, high cheekbones & full lips in a playful smile. "At last, Alex Endoriana!" he said, voice soft; coming to me, he cupped my chin & kissed my cheeks. I smelled wisteria. "I am Dion Amarandos," he said quietly, his eyes going from mine downwards to breasts, belly, thighs & back up.
Um. Oh? Seeing the promise in his eyes, I stammered, "I, it is good to meet you, Mr...."
"Call me Dion." Taking my hands, he pulled them to his lips, inhaled deeply & kissed my palms. "It is...delightful to meet you. Come, relax; let us discuss your work."
We sat at a wide desk, & I found the sprawl of pictures, photos, CDs, handmade books, and altered book was all my work. After several works, he was bright with joy. "Looking at this is exciting," he said, & showed my image of Apollo in his chariot, singing & playing a lyre. "You capture him in joy; I can feel his laughter rising. " He lifted my self-burned CD of dream tunes. "I listened to this & created a menu based on it. Let's be blunt. You belong here."
"But?" I asked.
"We have two schools, one for ordinary students, and our hidden campus for chosen ones. I want you in the latter, but you applied for the former."
"What is the," I began.
He stood, holding out his hand. "I've seen yours; now you see mine! Let us begin the tour."
Seeing he wasn't going to budge, I placed my hand in his long, slender hand & let him lead me out the door, down-hall, to the back.
The campus was delightful. Curvy paths led to Art Nouveaux buildings, circular patios, tiny niches & everywhere gardens & trees flourished. At the corner of two tall buildings was a large, narrow cliff where a waterfall thundered down to a pond. I loved it. This was more like a park than a school.
"Like it? Come, play"
Thinking of the angry voice, I shook my head.
"No. Okay, miss out, then." Dion strode forward, waving to this person & that, stripping off his jacket, tossing off shoes & socks, & stood in the waterfall spray. Tossing back his head, he laughed & threw out his arms. Girls flocked to join him, & soon they were romping about in the fountain, clad only in underwear...or air. Sitting on the grass, I giggled, got out my sketchbook again & started drawing.
That's when he took off pants, shirt & tie. He was erect, at nipples and, ahh... Oh lord. I couldn't take my eyes from him. The youths around him were pretty & all, but he...he was like a force of nature, a primal being, more. I thought I smelled a wisp of grape & wine, & felt wrapped up in furs when he looked right into my eyes. "Come," he mouthed, & offered a hand.
Feeling of lust & shame & desire to keep my promise warred in me. Reluctantly, I shook my head & turned my head away to wipe away tears. This was so confusing. My body kept trying to throw myself at him, but I couldn't. It wasn't me, promise or no.
That's when a group of other students came over. "Tough, isn't it," one courtly-looking young man said, "but he is more than we can handle. Come on! Join the norms, chica! I'll show you all the campus hotspots. You know we're right by town? Galleries, bookstores, Starbucks, restaurants, gelato stores & man, the clubs! All we need to play all night." Dark eyes looked into mine, not so much courtly now. He was a strong young man, in his formal suit, all fire & creativity. And he, too, was interested.
Now I was confused. I was hardly Aphrodite, & I had 20 years on this guy. Why was he so...?
