The Metropolis Series #3: Quinn and Cassandra

CASSANDRA DIAZ had robbed people of so many things. She took away my sanity at St. John’s, disrupted the peace in the Metropolis, and now, she’d killed the festive spirit of the New Year.

I didn’t realize that I had slept through the countdowns and fireworks displays. It had already been the second day of the year when I woke up at the hospital, and the third when Julio told me his secret. It was on that same day that my parents and Ate Gianna brought pasta and chicken to my hospital room, which was our usual for New Year’s Day.

My room smelled like a birthday party. Everything looked delicious, but I, unfortunately, didn’t have much of an appetite. I only had a small serving of pasta and a portion of chicken skin Mom saved for me. Despite all the delicious food, the celebration was somber. My family had to meet the turn of the year without me. They’d spent it cramped in the hospital, waiting for me to wake up.

Once the feast was over, my family waited for me to be discharged. A doctor stopped by my room to run a quick checkup. He was perplexed by how normal I looked, and when he asked how I felt, I only had a headache and a lack of appetite to complain about.

“I don’t know how, but your daughter seems to have recovered,” he told my parents.

I left the hospital in the early morning, things began to slow down at home. Late nights became an assortment of mindless activities because I had trouble sleeping. I scrolled through my phone, watched random videos, and even pulled out a book or two from my closet. I tried logging into my PC to play games, but the intense graphics only gave me vertigo.

I couldn’t take Oliver on walks around the neighborhood, either. My parents had passed that job to Ate Gianna because they wouldn’t let me out of their sight. I couldn’t blame them, but Christmas vacation was coming to an end. My parents never said it out loud, but their expressions grew more worrisome with each passing day. Sometimes, I’d hear their muffled discussions in the dining room before breakfast, and when they’d see me, they’d stop and smile.

“Breakfast is ready, Quintana,” Mom would say.

A heavy atmosphere lingered whenever I sat with my parents for meals. Mom and Dad’s efforts to lift my spirits were futile, but they’d try and I’d feel bad for them.

It had been long since I last saw Cassandra, but she’d managed to spread her reign of terror to my parents’ household.

Eventually, my parents put down their Christmas decorations, including the tree Mom was so proud of. One by one, she placed the ornaments she ordered in storage boxes and instructed Ate Gianna to put them away.

The holidays were over, Quinn. It was almost time to go.

I was folding my clothes neatly into a luggage bag when someone knocked on my bedroom door. I let them in, and Mom appeared beneath my doorframe.

“Hey, Mom,” I said.

She stepped inside my room. “So, I called St. John’s today.”

“Oh. Okay.”

I didn’t like the feeling of Mom calling school. I tried to read the expression on her face, but she often looked mean and snobbish even when she wasn’t.

“I talked to your homeroom teacher,” Mom said. “And he told me that you kept passing out at gym class.”

I dropped the shirt I’d been folding. I looked at Mom and noticed her worrisome expression.

“You’ve never lost consciousness before, Quintana,” Mom added, her voice stern. “How long has this been happening?”

A certain heaviness grew in my chest. “Ever since I got to St. John’s?” I stammered.

“And you didn’t call us?” Mom scolded. She rubbed her temple. “Quintana, I know that I said you could live a life on your own at that school, but that doesn’t mean you can keep things like this from us.”

“I—I didn’t want you and Dad to worry.”

“Well, we’re worried now. Is there anything else you’re hiding? What else is bothering you that you’re not telling us about?”

I was scared of having this conversation. If things were different, I would be able to pour my heart out, even break down crying if I needed to. All of that seemed so much easier than constantly bottling everything up.

“No, Mom,” I said. “Nothing.”

“Look at me in the eyes, then,” Mom instructed.

Mom used to say that if someone were telling the truth, they would have no trouble making eye contact. She’d mention it whenever I refused to tell her what was wrong. She’d caught me lying about all sorts of things: a nasty gash I got from riding my bike, a failed math test in fourth grade, and a toxic friendship that sucked the fun out of my freshman year. As I grew older, I learned to keep looking straight at her, even when I was lying.

I had kept all sorts of things from her since. Sometimes, they were little things like accidentally spilling food on the carpet. But sometimes, they were big things. There was a boy in my previous school that I liked. We’d text each other late into the night. He turned out to be an asshole.

The Metropolis was one of those bigger things, and I managed to keep that a secret, too.

“Mom, it’s okay,” I said firmly. “I’m fine.”

We stared at each other for a good few seconds. Eventually, she nodded.

“All right, Quintana. I believe you.”

Discreetly, I let out a sigh of relief.

“But this cannot keep up. Tomorrow, we’re going to the doctor for a checkup. Plus, your Dad and I are discussing additional rules for when you get back to St. John’s.”

I flinched. Of course, they were.

“And those are?” I asked.

“You’ll only find out when we get there.” Mom replied.

And before I could say anything else, she was out the door.

The doctor’s appointment the next day brought only more confusion than closure. Just like at the hospital, this new doctor said I was normal, too. He proposed that I could be anemic, so he suggested that I should start taking ferrous sulfate tablets. My parents got me a whole bottle, but I didn’t take any of it.

I knew that the tablets wouldn’t do anything.

The next day was my return to St. John’s. The trip was long and uncomfortable. Aside from the general reluctance to go back to school and hearing the new set of rules my parents had for me, it sucked saying goodbye to Ate Gianna and leaving Oliver behind. I promised to take him on lots of walks when I got back. Hopefully, everything in the Metropolis would be okay by then. I hated how that place had a strong association with Cassandra. I couldn’t ignore the sense of doom that lingered in the air, and it intensified the closer Dad drove into the city.

I tried to look at the bright side. I was going to see Harumi again, watch Deus Ex Machina practice and perform, and maybe I’d get to hang around with Julio at The MacGuffin. I sighed, leaning against the car window. I looked down at the airplane keychain and laced it around my fingers. It would hang from my small shoulder bag until I’d see Julio again. I wished that I could talk to him about normal things more often. If only the universe gave us a chance.

I didn’t know why, but even after knowing that the Spanish House had failed to find the Author, I still believed that she was out there somewhere. Maybe it just wasn’t the time to find her. Sure, it was tiring to keep holding on to something so preposterous, but it gave me a little bit of hope when I was down and a little bit of courage when I was scared. I placed the torn library card in the secret pocket of my shoulder bag, treating it as some sort of lifeline.

It was one of those few things that kept me going.

Dad pulled over to St. John’s parking lot late in the afternoon. By then, the sense of dread I felt throughout the whole trip had turned into exhaustion. I wanted to return to my dorm room, throw all of my luggage on the floor, and crash on my bunk bed. However, I knew that I needed to go through one last hurdle before I could do all that.

As the gates of St. John’s Academy loomed before me in the blazing afternoon sun, Dad killed the engine as Mom lifted her head to speak. She didn’t turn to look at me, but I could see her stern eyes in the rearview mirror.

“Here’s where things change, Quintana,” she began. “From now on, you will message us every morning when you wake up and every night before you go to sleep. You will tell us where you’re going and who you’re with whenever leaving St. John’s, and you’ll message again when you get back. Don’t go far, don’t be out late, and never leave the campus alone. Is everything clear so far?”

I nodded. “So I just need to send you and Dad updates every day?”

Mom turned to me. “That’s right. And if anything happens, call us, okay? No more hiding.”

“We’d be more worried if you didn’t keep us posted,” Dad added.

“Okay,” I murmured. “I’m sorry.”

In a way, I was relieved. I thought that they were going to impose something much worse. I was mostly thankful that they still allowed me to leave the campus. However, I couldn’t help but wonder how those new rules would affect how I dealt with the Metropolis.

And if I ever needed to break those rules, would my parents ever find out?

We hopped out of the car and unloaded my bags from the trunk. My parents brought me to the lobby of the girls’ dorms. I watched as other students said goodbye to their families for the rest of the academic year.

“Well, we’ll see you in three months, kiddo,” Dad said.

“Yeah,” I replied. “See you.”

I kissed my parents on the cheek. Then, they turned for the door.

“Take care, Quintana,” Mom said. “I’ll message you later tonight.”

I watched as they disappeared on the other end of the school grounds, leaving me with the familiar sounds of chatter in the hallways and the traffic outside the campus.

And so, after two weeks, I was finally back. Back at St. John’s, back in the Metropolis, and back to the horrors that awaited me.