Ex Nihilo Academy Read Free Page A

privacy.”
     He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly and it almost feels like he’s waiting to be dismissed.
    “You have a son?” I say to break the silence.
    “I do. His name is Rowan and he helps me take care of the
     place. Is there anything else you need, miss?” He asks, clasping his hands together.
    “Can you call me Lily? Miss just seems a little… Lily would be great.”
    “Of course… Lily.” He tries it out then he does this kind of
     nod-slash-bow thing that makes me want to die of embarrassment and scurries off down the hall. I stand for a moment in the big empty foyer with a suitcase in each hand, then climb the massive staircase to search for my room at the end of
     the hall.
    My room is painted my favorite shade of powder blue; a color that I love because it reminds me of the California sky. It is spacious with a canopied queen-sized bed, a tall dresser and a desk all painted in an antique
     white. There is a large window flanked by two smaller diamond-patterned glass windows looking out on to the backyard and loch. The attached bathroom contains a simple white pedestal sink and claw foot tub, though it has been updated with a new-looking standup shower. That has to be courtesy of mom and just thinking
     about her starts the dull ache in my chest again. Taking a deep breath I walk into the bathroom to check myself in the mirror and I see that my long blond hair is in one huge tangle from sleeping on it on the plane. I have the kind of
     unruly hair that no matter how many flat irons I take to it always ends up falling into the same loose waves. I study the girl in the mirror critically. She has the same slightly hooded sea green eyes and the same cupids bow mouth
     with dark pink lips that make lipstick unnecessary. She has the same narrow nose and high cheekbones and the same heart-shaped face. She looks like me but somehow different. She looks tired. Something has changed in her eyes and it’s almost as if a light has gone out. I sigh and make a half-hearted attempt at getting
     a brush through my hair before deciding that I need a shower in a major way. After ten minutes under the hot spray I feel marginally better, so I slip on cropped cotton pants and a fitted tank and roll out my yoga mat, happy to be
     doing something familiar to me. I love yoga. Mom and I used to do it together on the back patio every morning before school. I loved watching her tall, willowy frame as she executed each move so gracefully; nothing like my
     five-foot-six frame that is all legs and more angles than curves. I stretch out into downward dog and breathe deeply to center myself, reflecting back on today. It’s hard not to feel like I’ve been transported to another planet. And
     while I’m used to being independent, as an only child with parents who travel for work it’s kind of inevitable, I’m not used to being all alone - and there’s a big difference. A loud bang snaps me from my meditation and I run to the window to see what it is. That’s when I see him. He is lifting large pieces of
     lumber from the garden and tossing them into a pile. He is broad shouldered and wearing a ratty Iron Maiden t-shirt that reveals a set of muscular arms. When he turns toward the window I can see that one of his arms is fully covered in
     tattoos down to his wrist and the other arm has scrolling black ink that peeks out from just beneath his short sleeve. It surprises me since he seems close to my age and most parents wouldn‘t go for such a permanent fashion statement.
     Though I can’t tell exactly from where I stand he looks tall, definitely over six feet, and his skin is fair which is in stark contrast to his curly dark hair. He is handsome in a rugged and not overly obvious kind of way. I slide open the window and the mingled scents of salt and fresh cut grass assault my
     nose just as he bends down to lift another piece of wood. I’m not sure how to introduce myself or what to say so I just yell down to