William closed his suitcase with a sweeping motion, accompanied by the continuous click of the metal parts of the zip; he had finished packing everything he would need for the three days it would take him to attend and compete in the 'Silver Sword' fencing tournament, to be held in Boston.
The inter-academy fencing tournament had a long history behind it; it had been held since 1900 amongst the original ten elite academies to demonstrate the great purchasing power of their students' families, since, as a sport requiring specialised equipment, time, coaches and suitable training facilities, amongst other things, it was a new way for wealthy families and the nouveau riche to show off within their social circles.
Who could secure the best coach, who had the shiniest swords, who wore the finest and most eye-catching jackets.
Which son was the best, the most elegant and the quickest in the art of fencing.
Over the years, several of the original academies have faded into history, whilst new ones have emerged, negotiating their way into this prestigious and long-standing fencing tournament – just as Nevermore has managed to do this year. Weems had done everything in his power to secure Nevermore's participation, with the sole aim of seeing William win the trophy for his academy.
"I've got everything sorted for tomorrow; I've put together an outfit for every day of the tournament—one for the opening ceremony, another for the semi-finals and another for the awards ceremony,' Enid said, sitting on the edge of the bed. 'I was a bit torn between wearing a chocolate-brown coat or something more grey to match you.'
"What do you think?''
Enid had walked into his room as if it were her own and asked as she sat down very close to William, who was lying on his spacious bed with white sheets and grey pillows; his bed was much larger than the usual ones in student halls; he'd bought it online as he had enough space this year and was tired of the small beds in the student dormitories.
With a bit of effort, he persuaded Mako to carry her up there instead, lifting him into the air with his psychic power through the long corridors and steep staircases of Caliban Hall.
Enid had the only spare key to William's room at Nevermore; neither Weems nor Gurk — the maintenance man, gardener and caretaker all rolled into one — had a spare. He had carefully replaced the locks on his bedroom, his study and the old wooden shed that Xavier now used to store his paintings.
The old shed had been secured by nothing more than some chains and an old padlock before he replaced them with sturdy iron locks enchanted with simple runes, yet impenetrable to the average Outcast.
"Wouldn't you prefer to wear a more colourful coat, perhaps a pink one?"
William asked, wrapping his right arm around Enid's waist; he no longer needed to ask how she'd got there without being stopped by the dormitory warden—apparently Vlad had decided to turn a blind eye to the young woman's frequent visits, as long as it wasn't too obvious.
"Oh, even better, why don't you take all three? You can wear a different one every day!"
"Really? Don't you think that's a bit much?" asked Enid, covering her mouth with both hands and looking at William expectantly. "My mum always tells me I take too many clothes when I go anywhere."
"Perhaps a little, but there's nothing wrong with that," replied William, turning to wrap both arms around Enid's waist. "There'll be plenty of room on the bus for all your suitcases, as there are only four of us."
"And Coach Vlad," added Enid, smiling broadly, revealing her deep dimples.
"And Coach Vlad," said William with a nod of his chin; it wasn't that he'd forgotten his beloved, cold-hearted coach – according to Yoko, that's something that happens as the years go by.
"In that case, I'll take all three; I might need an extra carry-on bag. What about you? I don't see one…" —Enid stopped short when she spotted a white travel rucksack right in front of the wardrobe.— 'It's not that one, is it? It's too small for three days."
"I'd say they're the perfect size. Apart from that one, I've got to take my fencing kit and my swords; it's too much luggage… Ouch!" William complained as he felt Enid pinch his hand; just a few moments ago she'd been telling him it was fine to take several suitcases and now, it seemed, she'd changed her mind.
Enid stood up, crossed the room and knelt down in front of the rucksack; before opening it, she found long-sleeved T-shirts, socks, shirts, trousers and jeans, amongst other things, perfectly folded and tidied away inside.
''Goodness, Will, are you really going to wear that? I thought you'd got rid of them," said Enid, holding a white shirt with a long tear down the side.
So much time had passed that William had forgotten which of all the beasts he'd hunted had caused that wound and torn his clothes.
"I got rid of them all…"
"What about this one?" asked Enid, holding the shirt up in the air as she replied.
"…I kept it as a memento," lied William.
(Silly and adorable), thought Enid with a soft, charming laugh.
"What about the coat? The weather forecast says it's going to snow far too early this year." She stood up and walked over to the wardrobe.
As he opened both doors, rows upon rows of perfectly ironed and neatly arranged shirts filled the interior; his fingers ran over the coats, blazers, waistcoats and hoodies, most of them in the colours of Nevermore: blue, purple and black.
"A hoodie's a bit too thin, though I do like you when you're just wearing a waistcoat over your shirt…" —William fell silent when he heard Enid murmur excitedly; apparently, the idea of reorganising William's luggage again was thrilling her.
"Oh!! My gosh!!"
Suddenly, she spun round excitedly, causing the hem of her pleated skirt to flutter.
"You're definitely going to wear this!!!" The girl was holding a high-cut, wine-red coat with a matt finish—elegant and sophisticated in its tailoring—featuring two rows of gleaming silver buttons.
'Don't you think I'll stand out too much?' William replied half-heartedly; he'd bought that coat a few months earlier, during the summer holidays, whilst browsing the department stores in Portland with his sister, who'd insisted it looked fabulous on him.
"Will, you already stand out!" replied Enid, unable to hide her smile. William's 'golden hair' was unusual, even amongst the Outcasts themselves—a feature almost as striking as the 'featureless' faces of the Faceless.
(This reminds me of what Fred told me: when a girl starts choosing your clothes for you, it means your relationship has crossed the line.)
What 'line' was he referring to? William had no idea; Fred, his old friend, never actually told him which one he meant, but William trusted him and, years later, Fred got married and had two children in record time; he must have been doing something right.
Enid's behaviour showed how much attention she paid to him, how much time she spent thinking about him, and how much affection she felt for William.
(I want the world to see the most attractive version of you that I can see.) Enid waited silently for his reply; if he refused outright, she wouldn't press the matter—for now.
"All right, if that makes you happy."
After all, it was only a coat, and sooner or later he'd be wearing it anyway.
"Yes!!" Enid raised both arms enthusiastically in a victory gesture and then hung the coat on the coat rack by the door; she'd make sure, under no circumstances, that he forgot it.