Exhausted, Derek slipped into a chair grunting.
He was a wet rag thrown into a shredder. Alex had prepared a full itinerary for the two days leading up to orientation. He had them go hiking up a cliff – the one that the estate was cut into the side of, flying a plane out over the town, and sailing on the blue beside the beach house.
He found himself with a surprisingly fond taste for sailing.
The methodical execution of adjustments. The pulleys and sails, begging to be managed in a precise and professional fashion. There it was. An oddly satisfying and clean feeling he used to only get from his work, in a peaceful and mindless activity.
“Keep a look out for a sailing club at RIC. It’s on an island after all,” Alex had suggested
Derek found himself gazing at the colorful and crisp looking array of food that decorated the golden-dawn lit table. More formal then usual…
Derek felt a pit in his stomach, and it wasn’t hunger, “Food seems a bit overkill, no?”
Alex pinched out a danish from a pyramid of sweets, stuffing down a bite, “is’h dat a froblim?”
Derek swallowed and was going to grab at a handful of grapes when Ben’s voice echoed throughout the room, “Master Thagret has arrived.”
There was no hand flourish.
Kaine strode toward them and seated himself to Derek’s right, at the head of the table. Alex was on his left, across from Derek.
To Derek’s horror, he was wearing a bathrobe. Metallic gray with winter white embroidery, nearly the same as Alex’s.
He looked to both of them smiling, “Good morning.”
Alex clapped his dad on the shoulder, “Always so formal!”
He winked at Derek, “Derek, my dad, Dad, this is Derek McVale.”
Derek reached awkwardly over to shake with his left hand, his right stiff in its cast. Kaine’s hand was long but thin, and cold.
Derek couldn’t wait to get his hand back, “Nice to meet you.”
Kaine gazed into him, unmoved but with a thin smile on his lips, “Pleasure to meet you, Derek.”