"Mom, why can't I stay home?" Lochlainn asked, his voice laced with a hint of desperation. His piercing blue eyes searched hers for any sign of relenting, but all he found was a steely resolve that made his stomach knot.
"You know why, sweetheart," she replied, her voice gentle but firm. "The specialists at Seaside Academy will be able to help you in ways we can't. It's for the best."
Lochlainn nodded, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. He knew his mother and father had done their research, had read all the brochures, and spoken to all the right people. But the thought of leaving his cozy house, his quiet neighborhood, and the comfort of his family's routine was overwhelming.
The drive to Galeridge was long and mostly silent. His parents talked in hushed tones about what to expect and how much they'd miss him, but their words didn't quite register. All Lochlainn could focus on was the changing scenery outside the car window—the rolling hills that soon gave way to a rocky coastline, the blue sky slowly darkening as the sun dipped lower in the sky. When they finally arrived at the school, the grandeur of Seaside Academy took his breath away. It was a sprawling, ivy-covered building with tall, arched windows that seemed to peer down at him as if to say, "Welcome to your new home."
His parents helped him unload his suitcase from the trunk and walked him up the cobblestone path to the main entrance. The air was salty and cool, carrying the distant sound of crashing waves. As they stepped inside, the grandeur continued with high ceilings and a polished wood staircase that split off into shadowy corridors. The headmaster, Mr. Foley, a tall man with a stern face and piercing eyes, greeted them with a firm handshake.
"Welcome to Seaside Academy," he said, his voice echoing in the vast foyer. "We are eager to have Lochlainn join our community."
Lochlainn felt his parents' hands squeeze his shoulders reassuringly. He took a deep breath and stepped forward to shake Mr. Foley's hand. It was cold and clammy, sending a shiver down his spine. The headmaster led them through the grand hallways, explaining the school's rules and expectations. Lochlainn's eyes darted around, trying to take in everything at once—the stern portraits of past headmasters staring down at him, the polished trophy cases filled with awards and memorabilia, and the occasional glimpse of students in navy blue uniforms, their faces eerily expressionless.
As they approached the boys' dormitory, the atmosphere grew heavier. The corridor was narrower and the lights flickered as if they were fighting to stay lit. The dorm itself was a long, dank room with rows of beds, each with a small, uninviting mattress. The air smelled faintly of mildew, and a chill ran through the space that even the thick stone walls couldn't keep out. His parents exchanged a worried glance, but Mr. Foley's expression remained unchanged.
"Here we are," he announced, his voice bouncing off the cold, stone walls. "This will be your new room, Lochlainn. Your things will be placed here."
Mr. Foley gestured to a bed at the far end of the room. The mattress looked as though it had been plucked straight from a prison cell—thin and lumpy, with a grayish-blue sheet. Lochlainn's eyes widened as he took in the starkness of his surroundings. There were no posters on the walls, no splashes of color to brighten the space. Just rows of identical beds, each with a single, lonely pillow at its head.
"You'll find the bathroom and shower facilities at the end of the hall," Mr. Foley continued, pointing to a heavy wooden door. "And meals are served promptly at 7 AM, 12 PM, and 6 PM. Lights out at 9 PM sharp. No exceptions."
Lochlainn's parents forced smiles, trying to hide their own apprehension. They knew this was the right place for him, but the coldness of the environment was palpable. The headmaster's assurance that their son would be well cared for didn't quite ease their fears, but they had to trust in the process. With one last, lingering hug, they turned to leave, their footsteps echoing down the corridor until they were swallowed by the heavy silence.
Alone in the stark room, Lochlainn sat down on his bed, feeling the cold seep through his clothes and into his bones. His eyes welled with tears as he stared at the unpacked suitcase on the floor. The reality of his situation settled heavily upon him. He was in a place where everything was unfamiliar and everyone was a stranger.
Suddenly, the door to the dormitory swung open, and in bounced a red-haired boy with a sprinkle of freckles across his nose and cheeks. His eyes, a vivid shade of green, sparkled with mischief as he surveyed the room. He was a stark contrast to the dullness of the surroundings, his energy palpable even from a distance.
"Well, what do we have here?" the boy said, a wide grin spreading across his face as he spotted Lochlainn. He marched over and sat down next to him. "I'm Aedan. You must be the new kid everyone's been whispering about."
Lochlainn studied him cautiously, unsure of how to respond. The boy's energy was overwhelming, like a tornado in a library. "I'm Lochlainn," he murmured.
"Ah, the famous Lochlainn!" Aedan exclaimed, slapping him on the back with a bit too much enthusiasm. "I've heard you're a real brainiac. They say you can solve puzzles faster than anyone here. That's going to come in handy, let me tell you."
Lochlainn blinked, surprised by the sudden camaraderie. "How did you know that?"
"Oh, the whispers of the wind," Aedan said with a wink. "And maybe a little birdie named Mrs. McTavish, our resident gossip queen. But enough about that, let's get down to dinner before the welcoming ceremony starts!"
Lochlainn began nervously messing with his blond hair, twirling a strand around his index finger as he took in the information. The gesture was a familiar comfort, one he often turned to when faced with the overwhelming nature of new situations. Aedan noticed his unease and paused for a moment, his eyes softening. "Don't worry, mate. It's not all doom and gloom here. Sure, the place has its quirks, but it's not so bad once you get used to it."
The welcoming ceremony was held in a grand hall with a high, vaulted ceiling and walls adorned with ancient tapestries that depicted scenes of the ocean and mythical sea creatures. The room was filled with the buzz of chattering students, all dressed in the same navy blue uniforms. Lochlainn felt his heart racing as he walked in with Aedan by his side, the weight of their stares pressing down on him.
Mr. Foley stood at the front of the room, his stern gaze sweeping over the assembly. "Welcome, students, to another year at Seaside Academy," he announced, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "Tonight, we not only celebrate the return of our current pupils but also the arrival of our new students."
Lochlainn felt a knot form in his stomach as all eyes turned to him and the other newcomers. The headmaster's words seemed to hang in the air, a heavy reminder of his outsider status. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his face neutral despite the rising tide of anxiety.
"Now, before we begin our feast," Mr. Foley continued, "let us remember the values that this great institution holds dear: discipline, knowledge, and unity. These are the pillars upon which Seaside Academy stands."
Lochlainn's eyes scanned the room, taking in the stern faces of his new classmates and the sterner faces of the teachers. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation and a hint of something he couldn't quite place—fear, perhaps? He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart.
Mr. Foley's speech droned on, his words bouncing off the ancient tapestries and the polished wooden floor. "We are not just a school, we are a family," he said, his voice booming through the hall. "And as a family, we must support and encourage each other in our pursuit of excellence."
Finally, with a dramatic flourish of his hands, Mr. Foley announced, "You may all take your seats now and enjoy this wonderful meal." The room erupted into a cacophony of scraping chairs and shuffling feet as the students rushed to the long, banquet-style tables that had been laid out with steaming dishes of food. The smell of roast chicken and vegetables filled the air, and Lochlainn's stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since breakfast.
Aedan led him to a spot at the end of a table, where a few other students had saved them seats. They were a mix of ages, but all had the same look of curiosity and slight wariness in their eyes. Introductions were made, and Lochlainn felt a glimmer of hope that maybe he could find a place here among these people.
As they sat down, Lochlainn's gaze settled on Aedan. "How old are you?" he asked, his curiosity piqued. "Twelve, same as you," Aedan said, his grin never faltering. "Been here since I was ten though."
"Why are you here?" Lochlainn questioned, his voice a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Aedan's expression grew a bit more serious, the sparkle in his eyes dimming slightly. "My parents thought I needed a more...structured environment. Plus, I've got a bit of a knack for things that aren't exactly appreciated." He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Let's just say I've got a history with trouble. But enough about me, what's your story?"
Lochlainn took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his parent's expectations and the unspoken truth of his diagnosis. "I'm autistic," he said, his voice clear and unwavering. "My parents thought this place would be good for me. You know, help me manage my...quirks."
Aedan's smile didn't fade, but his eyes searched Lochlainn's with a newfound respect. "Ah, I see," he said, his voice low. "We're all a little bit peculiar here. That's what makes us special." He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. "You'll find that everyone has their own reasons for being sent to Seaside. Some are here because they're too smart, some are here because they're too...let's say, energetic. And some, like you, are just trying to find their place in the world."
The other students at the table nodded in agreement, their expressions a mix of empathy and understanding. It was as if they had all been waiting for Lochlainn to share his secret, to join their unspoken club of outcasts. Lochlainn felt a warmth spread through him, a feeling of belonging that he had never felt before.
Dinner was a blur of laughter and stories, with Aedan regaling them with tales of his various escapades and the clever ways he had outsmarted the teachers. The food was surprisingly good, the chicken tender, and the vegetables seasoned just right. For the first time since his arrival, Lochlainn felt a glimmer of happiness.
After clearing their plates, the students were ushered back to the dorms. The evening air was cool and the sky outside was a canvas of twinkling stars. Lochlainn couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement mingled with his anxiety. Aedan walked alongside him, chattering away about the school's secret spots and the mysterious legend of the "Galeridge Mermaid" that was said to haunt the cliffs near the school.
Once in the dorm, the new boys began to unpack and organize their meager belongings. The silence of the room was broken only by the occasional whispered conversation and the distant sound of the ocean. Lochlainn felt the coldness of the room seep into his bones, but Aedan's stories kept his mind off the discomfort.
"Look at this place," Aedan said, throwing his arms out dramatically. "It's like they're trying to scare off the color."
Lochlainn couldn't help but chuckle at Aedan's theatrics. His new roommate had a way of making even the bleakest situations seem less daunting. They finished setting up their spaces and Aedan pulled out a hidden stash of colorful stickers from his pocket.
"Here," he said, tossing a few to Lochlainn. "Stick these around. Maybe it'll brighten the place up a bit." Lochlainn caught the stickers in his hand and looked at them, smiling slightly. The small, vibrant shapes—stars, planets, and various sea creatures—were a stark contrast to the dullness of the room. He picked a blue star and placed it on the wall above his bed, watching as it seemed to come alive in the dim light. It was a small act of rebellion, a declaration that he wasn't going to let the academy's dreariness consume him.