Chapter Text
As you exit your Uber in the Jericho town square, you start to glance around for the Nevermore Academy driver expected to meet you. Hm, not here yet. The coordinator you were in contact with offered to have you collected at the train station in Burlington, but you preferred to use the time in the quiet solitude of the Uber to think and prepare instead. Your Uber driver didn’t seem to mind, and for that, you were going to leave a large, thankful tip.
Once out of the car, you were excited to stretch your legs and chug the rest of your water. You check your phone before heading to the trunk for your luggage. You’re not exactly sure who is meeting you now, because there is an automated email saying the usual Nevermore driver is out sick with stomach pox (whatever that is…).
Resolved to figure it out as you go, you pull your bag and suitcase from the trunk and wave a thank you to your Uber driver as they seem to scurry away quickly from Jericho. You begin to walk towards the fountain in the middle of the open space surrounded by shops and sidewalks. The town square looks quaint; you notice a flower shop, a convenience store, a hardware store, and a couple other small businesses throughout the square. However, what truly caught your eye was a café. Caffeine sounded so, so good. Traveling always exhausted you. Too much to think about and plan. It made your anxiety flare.
Heading towards the Weathervane Café and Bakery, you find yourself grateful to have a place to rest for a moment and wait for your now unknown Nevermore driver. The gloomy, overcast sky looked like it could open up and pour rain at any moment.
Shuffling your suitcase in the door to the café, you eye a back booth out of the way so that you don’t disturb anyone with your items. You’re not sure you would bother anyone since there aren’t many people here anyway—maybe the post-lunch lull is in full effect. You notice a black-haired, tattooed barista making an espresso for a customer. After looking around and deeming your belongings safe enough, you dash over to the counter to be next in line.
“What can I get you?” you hear coming from the black-haired woman behind the counter. In response, you ask, “May I please get a light roast vanilla latte for here?” You aren’t sure how long you’ll be waiting to depart for Nevermore. You might as well get comfortable. Before you could mutter “thank you,” the barista nods and takes your outstretched payment before turning around to complete your order.
You briefly walked back over to your claimed booth to take off your jacket and check your phone for any notifications. You didn’t expect the barista to bring you your drink. As far as you could tell, she was the only one working out front. Turning to you, she speaks almost teasing, “New, huh?”
Your eyes meet the luggage at your feet. “Yeah, I guess the suitcase does make it hard to blend in.” You notice the woman has a tousled bob and nose piercing; she stood looking at you, expecting you to continue. “I’m doing a fellowship year at Nevermore Academy to finish my dissertation.”
The barista eyes you suspiciously as if she is trying to make up her mind about something. You catch on and ask “What’s the look for?” Finally, she relents, “Okay, I don’t want to sound insensitive and ignorant, but are you an outcast?”
There it is. Honestly, you were waiting for this question. “No, I’m not. I’m actually researching outcast and normie relations. I figured the best way to dive into the issue was to live it and immerse myself in it as much as I can.” There are only a couple of all-outcast schools in the U.S. You applied to Cresthaven in Virginia and didn’t bother with the one out west. You heard it was in an underground bunker and immediately crossed it off your list. The most promising (and controversial due to recent events) was Nevermore.
To be frank, you were a little nervous for how your research would be perceived after following the news and disruptions here over the last year. Scary…but also kind of exciting having first-hand knowledge and experience relating to your work.
The barista seems to lower her guard. You learn her name is Imogen, and you two begin to share some of the funny TikTok’s you’ve seen about outcasts and normies. You’re giggling when the door opens and a bell chimes signaling a new customer.
The tallest and most attractive woman you’ve ever seen enters. You’re not sure how someone can seem so delicate and feminine yet powerful and in control at the same time. This is coming from someone quite well-versed in queer theory and the wonderful fluidity of gender and power. To have you stumped and frozen by this statuesque woman is quite a feat.
“Oh, there you are!” pronounces the woman cheerfully, as if she had been searching for you. Her voice was lilting, a touch of rasp, and delicious like honey.
You hesitate, trying to find out if your silence would encourage more of the beautiful sound. She then introduces herself as Larissa Weems, the principal of Nevermore. At the end of her detailing what happened with the original driver, you notice you’ve been staring at her throughout her entire introduction. Suddenly, your mouth goes dry and your cheeks flush. Imogen, the barista, chuckles and gives you a wink before backing away to let you flounder.
You begin to reason, “I apologize for not waiting outside where we had planned. I did not know who would meet me, and I wanted to explore a bit of Jericho before heading off.”
“Nonsense. In fact, let’s sit and have a cup together.” The taller woman visits the counter, and you overhear her order a hot chocolate. Jealousy showing, you didn’t even think to order such a cozy drink. You love hot chocolate.
Eventually she comes back over to you with her hot chocolate in hand, also deciding to forgo the to go cup. You attempt small talk, saying you adore hot chocolate and that you should have gotten it in the first place. The principal assures you that it is delicious and lives up to the hype. You vow to order one to go, jokingly. She, unexpectedly, offers you a sip.
Principal Weems had already been sipping the drink, and there were red lipstick stains on the mug. Throwing caution to the wind, you look her straight in the eyes and make a choice to bring your mouth to the same spot hers was. Her momentarily taken aback expression fades quickly into an unreadable façade.
“Mmmmm, you were not lying.” You let out, feeling the warmth travel down your throat. “Thank you for letting me try it.” The other woman looks down at where you had taken a sip and back to your lips. She sees that there is a bit of her red lipstick on your own lips now. She calmly removes the glove from her right hand, leans forward, and swipes her finger across your lips to collect the red residue.
With a smirk and feeling quite cheeky, you remark, “Talk about normie/outcast relations.” The woman looks out the window in an effort to conceal her own budding smirk and seems to be slightly flustered at the interaction. Or possibly the implication.
You’re unsure if she seems flustered due to the likelihood she’s almost always in control or if she has her own internalized barriers to outcasts/normies or sexuality. You file away this information, because, honestly, it was fun teasing her. To your surprise, though, she continues to drink her hot chocolate from the exact same place as before.
You two end up talking for another 45 minutes about your travels, your program, and the work you hope to complete at Nevermore. You ask about her job, the students, and what she does in her downtime on the campus. You also ask her if it’s possible to get some background information surrounding Jericho. In response, she offers to walk around with you if the weather permits.
Before you can fully gather your belongs and head towards the door, Imogen the barista catches you to give you her number and say goodbye. You begin to push your luggage towards the door when Principal Weems offers to carry it to the car for you. After some convincing, you yield to the obviously stronger woman. The taller woman takes your suitcase and bag as if it is the easiest thing in the world to lift, not even wrinkling her fashionable ensemble, and makes her way out of the Weathervane. The van parked across the street is a short trek, and you two place the luggage in the back and lock the car. Principal Weems looks at you expectantly to initiate a stroll in one direction or another.
Of course you are trying to understand as much history surrounding Jericho and Nevermore as you can. Knowing a bit more about the current and past state of normie/outcast relations can kick start your deeper research into local lore. You also can’t help but want to prolong the time you have with the tall and comforting older woman. At your current height, she is almost a foot taller than you, and you must pick up the pace a bit when beside her.
With the scenery change, you finally have the chance to examine the woman without the obstructing table and barista’s curious eyes. Principal Weems embodies femininity in a manner you could never accomplish. She is wearing heels and exquisite clothes; you don’t know anything about designer brands, but you’re sure they pale in comparison to her impeccably tailored clothes. Her hair is frozen in the most pristine updo that liken her to a Hitchcock heroine. You’re not sure a Hitchcock heroine’s figure would hold your eyes as long, though.
You are struck with the overwhelming urgency to know as much as you can about the woman. Does she have secrets? What is her skincare routine? What is the feeling she gets after finishing a good book? How much older than you is she? You’d like to know anything—any morsels of information you can obtain from her or about her.
The two of you continue walking and talking, and occasionally your fingers accidentally brush against each other as your arms swing side by side. The sun is starting to set, and the taller woman looks at her watch and curses under her breath that time has gone by so quickly. She implores that you two need to head to the academy.
Having made it back to the van, you two sit in comfortable silence for the 20 minute drive to Nevermore. Mentally, you make a note to discuss outcast powers and identities since she likely has a wealth of information at her fingers as the head of the school. You hope the older woman is content with you asking about her professional and personal life.
Once Principal Weems carries your luggage up the steps of the school, she informs you of your rooming accommodations. As a fellowship candidate, you will be staying in the faculty residential wing, rather than the student dormitories. You blurt out impulsively, “is that where you stay?” The woman lifts an eyebrow at the inquiry but answers honestly that her living quarters are downstairs attached to her office.
It being fairly late, you part ways with the captivating woman and begin to get settled in your room. You end up going to bed with a warm feeling in your stomach as you ruminate over the day’s activities and conversations. After a few minutes, you sleepily turn over and jokingly jot down a new title for your dissertation thesis.
“Examining Attraction Between Outcasts and Normies: A Case Study of Larissa Weems”