Now that they were fully surrounded by the forest, it would be another ten minutes before they reached the bottom of the path and entered Aphrodite’s Landing. He’d been there once before since he arrived, a quick trip to get ice cream after the first day of classes, already scooped up by the group of friends that he’d found himself now surrounded by.

After a day spent between the imposing walls of Dampgate Academy, the walk down to the shore was a welcome change of scenery. The air here was fresh and clean and smelled of wet forest, and the only sounds were their voices, the dripping dew from the trees and the crunch of their footsteps on gravel, and not a moan of pleasure to be heard.

That lasted for all of a hot minute, except that it wasn’t interrupted by a moan of pleasure but rather a mocking imitation of one.

“I’m just saying,” Liz said coolly, her hair done up in her usually simple ponytail, “Everyone else seems to be allowed to do it with their door open.” Vic realized that it had been Agnes imitating Tanya from earlier.

“Well there’s a time and place for everything,” Agnes insisted.

“Hold on,” Marcia said, “Wasn’t it just last week that I walked in on you and Marek? And girl, by the way, what happened to your standards?”

“Firstly,” Agnes said, pointing her already pointy chin up into the air, “That door was supposed to be closed, so it’s totally different. Secondly, my tastes and business are none of your business. And thirdly, I would hope you don’t see me in the same light as that flamingo. How does she even walk around on those heels, she looks like the boss’s favourite secretary?”

“Well she is Mr. Tourette’s favourite student,” Owen chimed in.

“Which, honestly, is part of the problem. If anyone should be putting a lid on their business, it’s those two, and if they won’t, then I’ll do it for them.”

Marcia smiled at this with a slight eye roll and shook her head.

Not long after that, the trees parted, and the gravel road flowed into the stony paved streets of Aphrodite’s Landing. The main thoroughfare, if it could even be called that, led them past two and three-story buildings, with living quarters on the upper floors, and the bottom floors filled with cute shops, cafes, restaurants and for the more adventurous, even bars.

To the left of them rising up an extra twenty feet or so from one of the buildings was something called the ‘Watchtower’. Not really a tower for watching, of course, but he was told it was the remnants of an old lighthouse, which made sense as its windows were illuminated by a bright orange light after sun fall. The road they walked on continued for a few more block all the way down to the shore and the jetty. That’s where he would have arrived on the island with his luggage only a week ago, though now the day seemed so far that he had a hard time remembering it.

“So anyway Pavlo did end up asking me out,” Vic heard Marcia say and snapped right to attention.

“Ugh, finally, I thought that boy would explode before he did,” Agnes said.

“So what did you say?” Liz asked. Yes, this was the vitally important question of the moment.

“I said ‘no’ of course,” Marcia said, not unkindly.

“That’s it, you’ve gone and killed him,” Agnes said.

“He’ll survive, but I’m not about to commit to anyone in that way.”

“Well there’s other ways you can commit to him,” Agnes suggested.

“Sure, but that’s not what he asked for.”

There was a lot for Vic to process from that little exchange, but in any case, whoever this Pavlo chap was, for they had not had a chance to meet, there was a profound sense of relief to know that Marcia had told him ‘no’.