I tucked my hands behind my head as I stared up at the new and unfamiliar ceiling. I swallowed, trying to figure things out.
I had no idea why the Appointer had chosen me to be in the Venatores. I wasn't strong, and I never had any kind of intrest in sports. Maybe he had the names mixed up. Sam should be here, and I should be in the Milites.
Or maybe the Appointer had me mixed up with someone in general. I should be back home, with my parents and little sister Maggie. I was just Claire Hart, a regular sixteen-year-old girl who had the normal problems of a teenager and an uncanny ability to predict people's next moves.
I sat bolt upright. Able to predict people's next moves? Is that why I'm here? Do they think I have some sort of gift to tell the future?
I sighed and fell back onto my pillow. That was stupid. This was all a mistake anyway, so why would it be true? People were just predictable. That was all there was to it.
Eveything seemed so close together here. The buildings, the people on the sidewalks. The classrooms seemed small. The sky seemed closer to the ground. It made me claustrophobic sometimes. I just needed some room to breathe.
I rolled over and listened to Jamie's steady breathing. She was pretty surpised to hear that the person that had been Chosen was a girl and not a guy. She awkwardly had let me in that day, and said that she needed to go and talk to someone. She had come back a half-hour later, with people ready to move me in. We went to dinner together, where she had intoduced me to some of her friends. When we got back to our dorm, there were two bed instead of one, and the room seemed to have expanded. There were two desks, mine stacked with school textbooks. My luggage was set neatly on my bed.
I unpacked as Jamie interrogated me. She was nice, and she has already become my best friend here. Then again, she's my only friend here.
At night, I wrote a letter to my family, telling them to not worry about me, I had settled in. It's still on my desk, unfinished.
I remembered what the schedule would be tomorrow. Wake up. Breakfast. Classes. Lunch. Classes. Traning. Dinner. Repeat.
The Venatores have a very strict way of running thing here. I heard that the Milites were a lot less strict. But I hadn't heard many nice things about the Milites. Jamie promised to give me the story tomorrow. She was too tired today. We all were.
I sighed and tried to close my eyes, but they just didn't want to close. So instead I looked out the window to see the stars, but they had never seemed so dim before.