Harris Institute for Gifted Students Episode 1: Bubble Thoughts (Intro)

Harris Institute for Gifted Students by Pineapple | Content warnings

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It was a few days before classes officially began when Sofia moved back into her dorm room with Vanessa. Vanessa was, by the looks of it, already settled in and contacting the people she played baseball with in the downtime on campus, texting away on her phone as she laid on her already-made and already-messy bed. It was a long day of unpacking for Sofia despite the short summer break.

The Harris Institute for Gifted Students was a year round school, so the breaks from it were never really long enough. Just long enough to get used to being at home, being a normal person, before coming back to classes and being reminded that they were special, that they were the chosen ones. That they were here to hone their super powers, their talents, their God-given duty, or whatever people chose to call it to become heroes and protect innocents and cities from the Evil Ones.

The new semester marked the beginning of Sofia’s second year, and it started with a bang—literally. There was the distant sound of an explosion, the rumbling of a building. Sofia woke up to darkness, to 3am on the clock.

Was that an earthquake?

The thoughts of the surrounding rooms were loud, pouring into Sofia’s head against her will. Worries about an earthquake, about the Evil Ones, about loved ones popping up like bubbles.

“Hey, Sofia,” Vanessa said, shaking her arm.

Sofia looked over at Vanessa, kneeling next to her bed. Her afro hair was covered in a satin scarf still, skewed a bit from sleeping. Her arms flexed with muscle, hidden under a comfortable layer of fat, when she reached up to wipe the sleep from her tired eyes.

“You good?” The voice coming from her roommate was real, inexplicably tangible, like the way a dream feels so real until it’s compared with the waking world.

“I’m okay,” Sofia answered, drawing her hands away from her head. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.”

Vanessa stood up and cracked open the door. Her dark skin caught the light from the halls, and it looked like a halo around her. Sofia heard her talking to others who must have been doing the same thing. Before Sofia could get up and check, the speakers lining the hallways of every building on campus screeched to life.

“Gifted students of the Harris Institute,” the headmaster’s voice crackled, “please do not leave your dorms. The instructors have determined the source of the disturbance on campus and are taking care of the problem. We will hold an assembly in the yard behind the administration building tomorrow afternoon to explain everything. Good night.” The static behind the voice lingered, only turning off when the entire speaker did.

Vanessa said a few more words to the others in the hall and then closed the door. There was an anxiety in the air that she couldn’t help but feel with her powers. She wished she could, that she had better control over her telepathy like she did the telekinesis she’d been practicing.

“Everything okay, Vanessa?” Sofia asked, brushing tangles out of her bobbed, black hair with her fingers. Attacks weren’t common, but they weren’t unheard of. Something about it felt… off, though, and Sofia was having trouble keeping her hands still.

“Find out tomorrow, I guess,” Vanessa said and climbed back into bed. “Good night.”

“’night,” Sofia said back, falling back into her pillows. She was already small, just a few inches over 5’, but she curled up into a smaller ball, trying to block out the feelings surrounding her, the bad cloud she felt that was blowing in, until she fell asleep.

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The same anxiety was buzzing in the yard as they gathered for the assembly the next day. It was making Sofia sick, deep in the pit of her stomach. The thoughts weren’t strong enough to form coherency, and for that, she was thankful.

It was rare to see Headmaster Harris in person. He looked to be a middle-aged man, though his real age was probably much older, with wispy brown hair and a face hardened by years of fighting evil and the whimsy of youth. He came up to a podium that had been clearly set up in a rush. A few of the teachers were standing nearby.

“As it was announced last night, the Evil Ones attempted an attack on our campus,” he began. “Our very brave and capable instructors and upperclassmen, ready to embark on their own journeys, rose to the task of defending their base of operations.”

His voice droned in the vibrations of the air. It was difficult to focus on his words when there was so much bubbling up, begging to be heard. Past the peaking of the microphone when the headmaster got too close, past the murmurs from the unorganized audience, Sofia could make out some distinct thoughts.

dangerous

It felt like tuning a radio.

…almost ruined…

There was a light tap on her arm. “Sofia?”

Sofia and Vanessa turned around to see Mickey, Vanessa’s classmate and their friend. She was taller than the both of them; it was a wonder neither of them noticed her coming. Mickey had a bright, toothy grin that made her look as country as her flared, boot-cut pants did. Her hair was long, with thick bangs and cheek side-locks that grew into straight, waist-length tresses. She gave a little wave, her skin golden in the sunlight. “How are you guys?” she asked, her voice low, almost a whisper as the assembly continued on.

Vanessa shrugged. “Tired,” she said. “Why did the headmaster decide to call an assembly this time?”

Mickey cocked her head. “Maybe because they got so close this time?” she guessed.

“What.”

Mickey surveyed the crowd idly. “You know there’s a field around campus that protects us and the town nearby,” she said. Vanessa nodded along—these were things everyone learned as first years here. “If something managed to breech that barrier, then… well, maybe it’s something to worry about.”

Vanessa hummed.

“You don’t seem to worried,” Sofia said.

Mickey smiled again, finally bringing her eyesight down to look at Sofia. “Neither do you,” she countered. “I’d be more worried if I hadn’t talked to Greyson already.”

“What’s he got to do with it?” Vanessa asked.

The name was familiar to Sofia, but… trying to remember if she had met Greyson sent the tuner of Sofia’s mental radio spinning.

the philosopher’s stone

The thought was potent and strong, filled with a desire that was less than selfless. Something evil, something greedy lurked in the words.

Sahar.

What was Sahar? No—it was a name. Who was Sahar? Sofia wondered.

“Hey,” Mickey said, placing an arm on Sofia’s. “You okay, hun?”

Sofia shook her head. She felt nauseous from everything loaded into the few words she could understand.

Vanessa and Mickey exchanged a look, and Vanessa sent a quick glance back at the podium where the headmaster was still talking. “I’ll take her back,” Vanessa said. “Text me if the old man says anything interesting, huh?”

Mickey smiled again and nodded. “Hope you feel better, girl,” she said, petting Sofia’s hair gently. It was soothing for the second that it lasted, and then Vanessa was guiding Sofia through the crowd and back to their dorm room. The ambient noise faded the further they got and it was dark, calm.

She slept through the evening and all through the night.

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Vanessa was gone from the room already when Sofia woke up. The headache and nausea from the day before were gone, so Sofia got up and threw on her softest tee and her coziest jeans. She still needed to pick up her uniform and she’d wanted to pay a visit to her instructor before classes actually started.

So she left the dorms and headed across campus. Fatima Ximenez’s office and classroom were in the main building, along with most of the instructors’ offices. When Sofia knocked and entered, she was hit with the strong, herby scent that always followed Ms. Fatima wherever she went.

She was sitting at her desk, lighting the candles that always sat atop it. There were tarot cards from mismatched decks sitting in some array foreign to Sofia. Ms. Fatima was wearing a full face of makeup, with deep blush on her high cheekbones. Her eyes were sharp when she looked up behind her lashes at Sofia.

She was always mature, always calm. The picture perfect image of the eldest daughter. Beautiful. Icy. Not a straight hair out of place, her skirt and her blouse always wrinkle-free. Matching heels. Intimidating.

“Hello, Ms. Fatima,” Sofia said.

Ms. Fatima leaned her narrow chin in her palm, staring at Sofia with an indecipherable expression. A small smile graced her features. “Hello again, Sofia. How was your summer break?”

“Good. Short,” Sofia answered. “How was yours?”

“Not much break for the instructors,” she said. There was a tinge of accent in her vowels and the ends of her words. She gathered up the cards between them and began shuffling mindlessly. “Classes haven’t started yet. What brings you here?”

“Just wanted to say hi.”

Ms. Fatima glanced at the candles. One of them flared. She hummed noncommittally. “How is your head?”

Sofia let out a little self deprecating chuckle. She should’ve known better than to try to lie to a bruja, a woman who’d worked with her and her telepathy for a year, who had mind powers of her own. “It’s okay,” she answered. “Better than yesterday.”

“The assembly was a bit much?” Ms. Fatima guessed.

Sofia nodded.

“Tell me about it,” she said, like she was a counselor and not a teacher. “You mentioned last year your powers sometimes become out of control.”

“I just… heard some things,” Sofia said, shifting in her seat. “If the thoughts are strong, they squeeze their way into my head. They’re there before I can pop them. Like bubbles.”

Ms. Fatima looked at the candles again and then at the bookshelf on the side of her room. “I’ll look into it,” she said. She took one hand away from the cards and waved it. Books flew from the shelf to hover between them and then lay themselves neatly on the desk opposite the candles. “I have several books on mind reading. I’ll see what I can find.”

“Thank you,” Sofia said, because she didn’t know what else to say. The truth was that Ms. Fatima had already looked. She was already working on it with Sofia. They had plans in place, and they both knew that.

One of the candles flared.

Ms. Fatima drew one of the cards from the deck. It was the first one in tarot sequence—The Fool. She made a face and peeled The World off of The Fool. She drew again and dropped number I, The Magician, onto the pile she was creating in between them. Next was II, The High Priestess, and then The Star, The Emperor… She shuffled through the deck and muttered to herself in Spanish. “No está aqui?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just…” Ms. Fatima looked up. Her face pinched again, and she reached over to the candles. Behind the one that had flared was the card of Justice. Sofia had no idea why Fatima was making the face she was, what any of the cards meant. “You seem to be going on a journey, chica. I worry it won’t be pleasant.”

“Is any journey?” Sofia joked, self depreciative.

Ms. Fatima’s face stayed steady, serious. “Something is beginning, Sofie,” she said. “It’s your fate. I don’t know what part you will play yet, but you’ll have to see through it to the end.”