The Metropolis Series #3: Quinn and Cassandra

AND JUST LIKE THAT, the rumors surrounding Curtis and Rachael’s relationship changed. It was no longer about Curtis’ secret affection for a certain sick girl, but about whether or not the Stevensons would get in their way. Speculations about Curtis’ parents quickly circulated. Why were they so harsh? What were they looking for in Rachael’s dorm? And who were they going to investigate next?

You would think that because of all that noise, Rachael would be doing a good job of avoiding Curtis at all costs. You’d be right about that, but band practice brought them back together again after a mere few hours. The Christmas festivities at St. John’s were nearing, and Deus Ex Machina, as always, was set to perform. However, band practice that day proved to be so awkward that it was a wonder that Rachael didn’t call it off. She didn’t stop the song at the smallest mistakes like she usually did. She just asked her bandmates to play a few sets, she sang, and everyone went back to the dorms.

When I returned to my room, Harumi wasn’t there. I didn’t receive any messages from her either. She probably just needed to complete a school requirement at the library or report to her part-time job. I thought about waiting for her to come back before having dinner, but then, as I rested in bed, I felt something crumple under my pillow. I lifted it to find something on my sheets.

A paper airplane.

At first, I was excited. Julio had responded to my message. Then, I got mad at myself for forgetting to lock the window, but I shrugged it off as I unfolded the airplane.

Hey, Quinn. I’m okay. I’ll be at the convenience store near St. John’s if you wanna meet. —Julio

P.S. Sorry for breaking into your dorm, but learn to lock your window, will ya?

Outside St. Johns, I immediately spotted him from across the street. The bright, convenience store windows outlined the broad frame of his shoulders. I wondered where the shroud of smoke was coming from until I noticed the cigarette in his mouth. I’d forgotten that he smoked.

“I knew you’d show up,” he said as he saw me. He then killed the cigarette in his mouth.

I took the seat across from him. “Hey, I got your message.”

“Wait, I got you something.” He reached for the paper bag beside him and pulled out a steamed siopao, turon, and a bottle of iced tea.

“Hope you haven’t had dinner yet.”

“Thanks,” I said, unwrapping the siopao. “Have you eaten?”

“Just finished. Now, eat up.”

He had cleaned up since the last time I saw him. His hair was trimmed, and his stubble was gone. I suppose those were indicators that things were truly going well for him. Nevertheless, he still had that mysterious vibe to him. I didn’t think that would ever go away.

“How have you been?” I asked him. “Were you able to figure out what was up with Rachael’s dreams?”

He shook his head, tapping the dead cigarette with his fingers. “I haven’t. Things have been busy at the Spanish House. We don’t stop training, you see.”

“How’s everyone doing over there?”

“We’re… coping. My sister, Viv, had slowly been returning to her old self since Cassandra possessed her. Also, I elected Shark-Hat Girl, Tamara, second-in-command. She deserves it. She’s been learning how to control her panic attacks and is getting seriously accurate at wielding her ax. She once killed this huge snake in the girl’s bathroom with just one swing of her weapon.”

I nodded. It was nice hearing from the Spanish House, even though it would be awkward for me to go back there. No matter what I did, I would still be known as that girl who looked like Cassandra, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to face that reality again.

“So, how’s Rachael doing?” Julio then asked. “Were there any more mentions of the dreams she’s been having?”

I frowned. “I haven’t heard anything about her dreams. Rachael doesn’t seem to mention them anymore—well, not to me, at least. We’re not exactly close.”

“Ah, I get it. It’s because you’re jealous of her relationship with Curtis Stevenson.”

I found it funny how casually Julio mentioned Curtis’ name. He didn’t sink into misery like he usually did. However, I knew that would change once I told him about what had happened to Rachael.

“Speaking of that,” I began. “Things got rather, well, shaky with them today.”

“How so?” Julio asked.

I told him about how the Stevensons ordered to search Rachael’s dorm and destroyed her belongings. Because she was the last one inside the house during the party, they wanted a better explanation of what she saw. They had the suspicion she was hiding something; they didn’t believe that she could just forget what had happened.

“Bastards,” Julio hissed. “They never changed. They once got me in trouble for getting into a fight with Curtis that he started.”

I raised a brow. “You got into a fight with Curtis? Why?”

“He wasn’t, well, the nicest person in the Metropolis back then. He started a fight with me because he was in love with Rachael, too. Can you believe it?”

I sipped some iced tea. “Wow. That’s so… ironic.”

“That’s my life: ironic. I wish I could be there for Rachael, but that’s impossible. Anyway, what else has been happening with you?”

I told him about how being roommates with Harumi had been mostly normal, which he was happy to hear about. He joked about not being able to knock on my window anymore, which I did find quite sad, but I laughed along with him. I also recalled the exhibit Deus Ex Machina had performed at and how I’d gotten sick. That was when our conversation took a downward turn.

“I saw Cassandra this morning, too,” I began.

Julio leaned forward. “What did she say this time?”

“She appeared shortly after the Stevensons messed up Rachael’s dorm, and she told me that things only ended up wrong when I was trying to make things right. Julio, we erased Rachael’s memories. That’s why the Stevensons are giving her a hard time. Should we do something about it?”

Julio sighed. “I hate that it had to come to all this, but what else can we do? So, everyone finds out I crashed Stevenson’s party. Then what? I’m supposed to not exist in this Metropolis, remember? We might just end up corrupting everyone. We’d have a bigger problem on our hands that way.”

I nodded, crumpling up my food wrapper and taking the turon. “Yeah. I know.”

“Besides, if Stevenson were a real man, he’d stand by Rachael no matter what.”

I didn’t say it out loud, but it seemed like Curtis was the only person who could make the situation with Rachael better. If he didn’t talk sense into his parents, who knew what else they could do?

I hung my head low and took a deep breath. “Hang on, I’m not done with Cassandra. There’s more to what she’s said.”

“What is it?”

“She threatened to destroy the Metropolis again. Can she really do that?”

Julio stroked his chin. “I don’t want to upset you, but we shouldn’t underestimate her. It’s best to just remain vigilant at all times.”

“Ah, I expected that answer.”

“Anyway, she’s not the only one with surprises. You surprise me, too. Those powers you have with your drawings? Great stuff.”

“I still don’t know if I’m the one who can beat Cassandra, though.”

“Hey, don’t think about it too much. I’m sure things will turn in our favor when the time comes. Besides, I believe in your powers. Remember that, okay?”

I blushed—not the romantic kind of blushing, but the hey-stop-flattering-me kind.

I cleared my throat, swallowing the last of the turon. “Thanks. And thanks for dinner. It’s nice to know you’re doing okay.”

Julio smiled. “Hey, if you want to meet again, just send me another airplane.”

“Sure.” I got up from my seat. “I’d better get going now. See ya.”

“Yeah, see ya. I’m gonna stick around for a while.”

“Are you on patrol or something right now?”

“No. Viv wants doughnuts, so I’m getting her some of those. Plus, I need to buy a new lighter.” Julio stuck another cigarette in his mouth and lit it. “My current one’s running out of juice…”

If it weren’t for curfew, I would have stayed longer. It was funny how I liked talking to Julio now. Granted, he was one of the few people I could talk to about the Metropolis, but I was slowly getting the feeling that it was becoming more than just that. He was an anchor that grounded me to a reality I kept running away from, and because of that, he made me feel like my emotions were valid—all my fears, my anger, my frustrations. At St. John’s, I had to pretend that everything was normal and keep lying to maintain that facade.

But with him, I could be myself.

All of those thoughts played in my head as I made my way back to my dorm, and on the second-floor hallway, I was surprised to find that I had bumped into Harumi.

“Quinn, hey,” she said. “There you are. I thought you were in the dorm.” She examined me from head to toe. “Where have you been?”

I had been wearing one of my nicer jackets that night, which was a gift given to me by a mysterious aunt who worked abroad. The material was thicker and a little fuzzier than all of my other sweaters and cardigans. I wouldn’t be surprised if the new Harumi had noticed that; the old Harumi was quite intuitive and observant.

“A friend from out of town wanted to meet at the convenience store,” I said. I wasn’t lying, was I? Julio didn’t exist in the Metropolis to begin with it.

It was then my turn to scrutinize her. She was wearing a plain, fitted tee and was sweating despite the cool weather. It also looked like she had tried to tie her hair into a bun, but it was too short. Loose strands had fallen and framed her face.

“What have you been up to?” I asked her.

“Ah, I’m helping Bree clean Rachael’s dorm up,” Harumi replied.

“Oh really?”

“C’mon, Quinn, I’ll show you.” She placed her hands on her hips.

“There’s still a lot of work to do.”

She led me down the hall to Rachael’s dorm. When she opened the door, I found that the room was slowly returning to its old self.

The mattress and pillows had brand-new sheets, the dresser’s drawers had been pushed back to their proper slots, and there were fewer things on the floor. When I stepped inside, I found Bree in one corner folding clothes.

“This isn’t exactly a home renovation project,” Bree said to me.

“But we’re doing our best.”

I nodded as I looked around the room. “I see. This is really nice of you guys. Where’s Rachael, though?”

“She and Philip are in the cafeteria working on the new song.”

“You guys write songs, too?” Harumi asked Bree.

“Well, Rachael does. She just comes to us for help when she gets stuck, but when she’s in the zone, she gets obsessive. She carries this notebook around in case an idea comes to her. Never gets it out of her sight. Ever. I swear, her bag is unnecessarily heavy because of it.”

Harumi nodded intently. “Ah, I see.”

Bree turned back to me. “Getting this place cleaned up was Harumi’s idea, though. She thought it’d be nice to surprise Rachael with our progress.”

Harumi beamed with pride as I glanced in her direction. I felt bad. She was cleaning up the dorm of a person she barely knew while the mess with the Stevensons had been all because of me.

“I’ll help out,” I decided to say. “What can I do?”

“Aww, Quinn, that’s so nice of you,” Harumi said. “You can start by cleaning up the vanity. Bree and I will continue with the closet.”

Nodding, I examined the vanity as Harumi joined Bree in folding and stacking Rachael’s clothes. The drawers had been pulled out of their slots, scattering some miscellaneous items on the floor. I found various cosmetic products shattered, coating some pens and high-lighters in bright eye shadow and dark mascara. Broken mirror pieces had mixed into the mess, and in the larger chunks of glass, I caught a glimpse of my reflection, but I didn’t see my eyes.

I saw Cassandra’s.

I blinked, and they were gone. I looked down again at the broken glass and sighed.

“I’m gonna get a broom,” I said to no one in particular.

I stepped out of Rachael’s dorm and borrowed a broom and dustpan from the maintenance staff. When I got back, I caught Bree and Harumi in the middle of a conversation.

“A couple of fairy lights would be nice on that wall over there,” Harumi said.

Bree rolled her eyes, but a faint smile formed on her lips immediately after. “Don’t be ridiculous, Nakagawa.”

“A couple of plants would look nice, too. Maybe one in every corner? If I had my own place, it would be full of them. Then, you’d come visit and call me the plant lady.”

“Then I know what to get you for Christmas now: a plant.”

“A bag of snacks would be nice, too.”

“One of those Christmas packaged ones with the tacky greeting cards attached to them?”

“Yeah…”

The two girls giggled at each other.

I then swept the broken glass and wondered what else I’d been missing. I noticed the way they looked at each other, and I got the feeling that Harumi would be joining band practices a lot more often from that point on.

Rachael arrived at her dorm about thirty minutes later. I’d never seen someone’s face cycle through numerous expressions in a short amount of time. First, she was surprised to see Bree, Harumi, and me in her dorm. Then, she was shocked to find her room in a much better state. Most of the items on the floor had been returned to the closet and drawers, and the furniture had been straightened and put back in their respective places. After taking a few small steps into her room, she began to look confused.

“Wh—what happened here?” Rachael asked.

Bree stepped forward and slowly spread out her arms. “Surprise.”

She turned in our direction. “You guys did this… for me?”

“Hey, it’s the least we can do to make you feel better. But this shouldn’t put the Stevensons off the hook, though. They still owe you big time for what they did to you.”

Rachael scoffed. “I don’t think I’d like anything to do with them for a very long time. I’ll make sure Curtis knows that.”

“He offered to buy you new posters,” I added. “Will you let him?”

Rachael sighed. “Even if I do, the damage has already been done.”

She quickly realized where Bree and Harumi had placed her ruined posters. She approached the corner right next to her vanity and picked up a poster of a woman with bright red hair. It would have been salvageable except for the tear that barely missed the woman’s face.

“My dad and I shared a passion for bands and rock music,” Rachael explained. “There used to be an album and music shop near his office, and he’d bring me home a poster now and then.”

“Jeez, Rache,” Bree said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how much those posters meant to you.”

Rachael laughed bitterly, putting down the poster she had picked up. “It’s ironic how I only talked about this with Curtis. But never mind that.” She turned to us and smiled. “Thanks for everything, guys. I think I can manage from here.”

A look of concern washed over Harumi’s face. “Rachael, are you sure you’re okay? What those people did to you was horrible.”

“Yeah, we can chill with you for a while if you want,” Bree said.

Rachael’s eyes looked tired. “Thanks, but I want to be alone for now. It’s been one hell of a day.”

Bree nodded. “Okay. We get it.”

We all said our goodbyes and goodnights as Rachael quietly closed the door. Once we were all a respectable distance away from her room, Harumi turned to Bree and said, “Is she gonna be okay?”

Bree crossed her arms. “She will eventually, but she’s not gonna be her usual self for a while.”

“Oh, you mean scary and intimidating?” I suggested.

Bree chuckled. “Vasquez, you’re so mean. Anyway, she’s gonna be more irritable, though, so watch out. You don’t want to have a monster in our midst…”

My record for unleashing monsters wasn’t looking so good, so I silently thanked Bree for the warning.

“By the way,” Bree began. “The student council is preparing a list of activities for Christmas celebrations at St. John’s. We’re trying to come up with what to do for the Christmas party. Do you guys have any suggestions?”

“Well, there was something my old school used to do every year for Christmas,” Harumi said. “Each class had to prepare a musical number for the party, and the best performance gets a prize. I know, cheesy, right?”

Unfortunately, that wasn’t what the student council thought. They were all out for the idea of a mini-musical competition between classes, and when our teacher announced it during homeroom one day, I saw the look of embarrassment on Harumi’s face.

“I didn’t think Bree would consider it,” she whispered to me amidst the collective groans of the class.

“What’s the prize if we win, though?” one student asked.

“I believe extra food at the party,” our homeroom teacher said.

“And?”

“Extra credit for all subjects in the next set of exams.”

There weren’t any other words as magical as extra credit. They had a charm that was more powerful and enticing than the words pizza party could ever have. The entire class got fired up the minute our teacher announced the prize. It was amazing to see student after student give suggestions for what we could do, what song we could perform, and what kind of costumes and clothes we could wear.

Eventually, the class settled for a musical-style dance number from a popular TV show about friendship and reaching for your dreams—you know, typical sappy teenage stuff. As expected, Curtis would be leading our little musical production, and rehearsals would be during homeroom and an hour after dismissal.

Meanwhile, Class 5 had unanimously chosen Rachael to be in charge of their presentation, which didn’t help her already rocky relationship with Curtis. Days had passed since the Stevensons searched Rachael’s dorm, but her anger and frustration toward Curtis and the entire situation hadn’t simmered down at all.

That was, of course, understandable. If I were in Rachael’s shoes, I would find it hard to act as if nothing had happened. I’d be disturbed knowing that my boyfriend’s parents were highly suspicious of me to the point of searching my room and breaking my stuff. However, matters regarding Deus Ex Machina would often bring them together, especially during lunch break when they shared a table with me, Harumi, Bree, and Philip.

One could only imagine how awkward that had been for everyone else. Curtis and Rachael were so stiff whenever they needed to talk to each other. I often felt like I was attending a corporate meeting instead of having lunch with friends at school.

“Also, Curtis,” Rachael said. “Philip and I have solidified the melody of our new song. Can you come up with the beat?”

“Sure,” Curtis replied. “But you’ll have to wait. I’m working on Class 3’s presentation for the Christmas party.”

“Right. So am I for Class 5. Extra credit’s a big deal.”

“Right. Maybe you can send me a sample of the melody for now? Oh, and a copy of the lyrics.”

“Right.”

When Rachael reached for her bag, everyone let out a sigh of relief. Our eyes had been going back and forth between Rachael and Curtis as they talked, bracing ourselves in case one of them chose to rage or break down, but we’d had none of that so far.

Rachael frowned as she dug into the contents of her bag. She closed the main zipper and searched through the smaller compartments.

She groaned. “I can’t find it. I swear it was in my bag this morning.”

Philip peered his head toward Rachael. “What’s wrong, Rache?”

Rachael shook her bag and emptied it, laying out all of her notebooks, stationery, and makeup on the table.

“The notebook with all my songs,” she said. “It’s missing…”

“Hang on, I have a backup on my phone,” Philip said to Curtis. “I’ll send it to you.”

Curtis nodded. “Thanks.”

Meanwhile, Rachael was still reaching into the deepest parts of her bag, digging into its inner linings. “Ugh, where did I put it? I couldn’t have misplaced it, could I?”

“Where did you last see it?” I asked.

“Right here. In my bag. Harumi even saw me bring it earlier.”

“Yeah,” Harumi said. “I saw the notebook when I passed by Rachael’s dorm. She had the software I needed for an assignment.”

Bree nodded. “It’s probably just in your dorm, Rache. Don’t worry too much about it.”

Rachael sighed. “Fine. Maybe I just forgot to bring it today.”

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Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be the case. I greeted Rachael in the hall the next morning, and she didn’t look so great. Her movements were groggy, her hair was in a mess, and when she looked at me, I noticed dark circles forming around her eyes.

“I can’t find it,” she grumbled, leaning her head against the lockers.

“You still haven’t found your notebook?” I asked.

She nodded and groaned. “I looked everywhere and haven’t seen it. I even checked lost and found and searched the school grounds and cafeteria with no luck.”

“Are there any other places you haven’t checked?”

“There’s Class 5 and the band room. I’ll be going to those places in a bit.” Rachael pursed her lips. “Forget it. Not that it had anything important, anyway. I’ve scrapped most of the songs I’ve written on it, and Philip has backups of the finished ones.”

“Speaking of scraps,” I mused. “I remember that song you let me listen to back then, and I couldn’t help but wonder…”

“What?”

“Do you still have those dreams… about drowning?”

It was about time I asked. It would be nice (or not nice) to give Julio an update when I’d see him again. He had been concerned when he heard about those dreams, worrying that Rachael would form a connection to the Lethe—and finally, to him.

Rachael’s expression darkened. “I still do. Sometimes. And it’s always the same thing: I find the river, I drown, and I wake up. Why?”

“Well, it’s concerning that you’ve been having those dreams for this long.”

“They’re scary, yes, but I’m not worried about them that much anymore. I’ve read that recurring dreams are pretty common, and dreaming about drowning just means that I’m currently overwhelmed by what’s happening around me.” She rolled her eyes.

“Gee, I wonder what that could be about.”

I nodded. Perhaps that was it. The party and the incident with the Stevensons had just been troubling Rachael, and her dreams probably had nothing to do with the Lethe or with Julio.

Still, the coincidence was concerning.

“Anyway, I’ll see you around,” Rachael said.

“Yeah, see ya.” I waved.

And she disappeared down the hall.