Arrival by Chris Morphew Page A

coincidence – the school principal suddenly here, suddenly wanting to talk to us. Someone must have told her about last night. Had Calvin figured out what we were really up to? Was this just a handover? Was Ms Pryor just taking us to the front office so we could get picked up and dragged away by security?
    I looked questioningly at Peter, but he just shook his head and mouthed, ‘Play dumb.’
    A couple of Year 7 girls poked their heads out of a second-floor window as we walked past.
    â€˜Back inside please, ladies,’ said Ms Pryor, smiling up at them. ‘I’m sure you have plenty of work to be getting on with.’
    The heads disappeared again.
    I stared at Ms Pryor, trying to get a read on her. She seemed friendly enough, but there was something about her that gave me the feeling she couldn’t be trusted. It was almost like she reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t figure out whether it was just the usual principal creepiness, or … something else.
    Ms Pryor led us across the quad and up the stairs to the front office. Without saying a word, she rounded a corner, strode down the narrow hallway, and stopped at a steel door with no handle.
    She pulled out a card and waved it front of a sensor on the doorframe. There was a clunk as the door unlocked, and she pushed it open, motioning for us to go inside. I felt like I was being ushered into a prison cell. Seriously, what principal needs that kind of security?
    Pryor’s office was small and cramped, but it still had that too-perfect vibe I was getting so familiar with in Phoenix. Everything was neatly arranged. An enormous red and gold rug stretched out across the floor, half-covered by a wooden writing desk that was probably an antique. Two identical vases of flowers sat on little pedestal things, one on each side of the desk. They gave the room this weird symmetrical look, like it had been designed by a robot.
    Behind Pryor’s desk was a tapestry that took up nearly the whole wall. It was a picture of a green field filled with enormous trees, wildflowers and wild animals, with rolling hills in the background and a big golden sun. I thought maybe it was supposed to be a picture of the Garden of Eden.
    The whole room was creepy and foreboding, which I guess is half the point of a principal’s office, but at least there was no sign of Calvin’s men.
    There was another clunk as Ms Pryor pulled the door shut behind us. She smoothed down the hem of her suit jacket, took a seat at her desk and waved a hand at a row of three chairs on the opposite side. We sat down.
    Ms Pryor reached across her desk and opened the laptop that was sitting there. She leant forward and clicked the mouse a few times, clearly not in any hurry to get started, almost like she was enjoying keeping us twisted in suspense. She obviously wanted to make it very clear who was in control here. Like we needed reminding.
    Pryor lifted her hand up from the keyboard, made a tiny adjustment to her screen, then sat back in her chair again and finally opened her mouth to speak. ‘Thank you for coming,’ she said, as if we’d had any choice. ‘Mr Hunter, Miss Burke, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you both. I’m very much looking forward to seeing what you can achieve as part of our family here in Phoenix.’
    That’s what Mr Ketterley had called us on the night we arrived. A family.
    I stared at Pryor. The more I got to know this ‘family’, the less I wanted anything to do with –
    Then I realised with a jolt who Pryor reminded me of.
    Right after Dad moved out, Mum decided it would be a good idea for me to get some counselling. It was a plan that lasted exactly one session and was probably the worst in her long line of misguided attempts to deal with the fallout from the divorce without actually dealing with it.
    The counsellor she’d stuck me with was this smiley-faced woman who went to great pains to convince me