Lisa POV.

In the cafeteria, I wolf down a plate of a tofu-nori scramble– delicious as usual. Then I rush to the dorms to grab my go-bag. We juniors live on the first floor of Shackleton Hall, above the eighth-graders. Our rooms aren't as spacious as the sophomore and senior digs in Cousteau Hall. And they're definitely not as nice as the senior suites in ZhengHe, but they're light-years better than the cramped barracks we shared as eighth-graders during our 'chum year' at HP. 

I suppose I should get this out of the way. Harding-Pencroft is a five-year high school and four-year college. We're divided into four houses, based on the results of our aptitude tests. We call the academy HP for short. And, yes, we've heard all the Harry Potter jokes. Thanks anyway.

When I get to my room, my roommates are freaking out.

Jennie is stuffing tools, extra outfits, and cosmetics into her pack. Roseanne is frantically sorting index cards. She has, like, twelve stacks, all color-coded, labeled, and highlighted. Her dog, Hank, barks and jumps up and down like a furry pogo stick.

It's the usual pandemonium, but I can't help but smile. I love my crew. Thankfully, rooms aren't assigned by house, or I would never feel like I could be off duty and relax with my friends.

My thought process was interrupted when Jennie brought me back to reality. 

"Babe, can you please tell this blonde next to me to not overpack?" Jennie says, while stuffing more socket wrenches and mascara into her own bag. (Jennie calls everybody babe, it's just her thing.)

"I'm sure it's not that bad." I rolled my eyes. I knelt next to Roseanne, who was now shoving extra cards in her bag."Oh wow-" 

The inside of the bag was a mess, yet somehow still color-coded. I wasn't sure how Roseanne did that, but it didn't seem to help Roseanne's anxiety, who was now starting to get more irritated. I quickly grabbed her shoulders and turned her to look at me.

Roseanne's eyes were frantic, although she did calm down a bit.

"How much do you still have to pack?" I asked.

'I need my index cards,' Roseanne glanced at her left. 'And treats for Hank." 

Yap! Hank barks in agreement, trying his best to touch his nose to the ceiling. 

I scan the cloth-strewn room for a familiar blue packet. I glance it under Jennie's t-shirt and quickly pull it out and hand it to Roseanne, smiling triumphantly. My victory is short-lived though, as Roseanne realizes she forgot to pack a swimsuit.

Jennie shrugs at me. What can you do?

 She's wearing her yellow hoodie and acid-washed jeans over a one-piece swimsuit. Her jeans are permanently stained with machine grease, but her make-up, as usual, is perfect. I swear, Jennie could be crawling through the aquarium's pump system or fixing a boat engine and she'd still manage to look fashionable. Her smooth brown hair has been tied into a ponytail.. I've seen pictures of her as a baby: pinchable plump cheeks, wide brown eyes, a startled expression, like What am I doing in this universe? She hasn't really changed much. 

I start to walk towards my bunk when Jisoo barges in

 "FIFTEEN MINUTES TO GO, PEOPLE, GET PACKING " Jisoo shouts, even though I'm pretty sure all she packed was a t-shirt and ready-to-eat chicken. She's supposedly older than me but has no respect for privacy. Basically, she doesn't believe in it.

Jennie's eyes widen when she sees the black pearl at the base of Jisoo's throat. 'Pretty! Where'd that come from?'

'Early birthday present from Taehyung,' Jisoo says. 'It, uh.. belonged to our mom.' 

Her lips form an O. My roommates have heard all the tragic stories about my family. Between Jisoo, Jennie, Rosie, and me, our dorm room is one of the world's largest producers of tragic stories. 

'Well,' she says, 'I've got the perfect skirt and blouse to go with that.'

 Jennie's great for sharing clothes and make-up. We're more or less the same size, and we have the same skin tone – so she can usually fix me up nicely for a school dance or a Saturday furlough in town. But today is not that kind of day.

'Jennie, we're going to be living on a boat for the weekend,' I remind her, tossing Jisoo a hairbrush to solve her tangled-up hair.

 'I know, I know,' says the girl who's made herself up just for the bus ride to the boat. 'But when we get back. Maybe for the end-of-year party!' 

"Yeah, that would be fun" Jisoo agrees. It takes all my willpower to not make a disgusted sound. Makes sense she would simp for Jennie, right?

Roseanne stuffs one last bag of dog biscuits into her duffel bag.

'Okay,' She announces. She turns in a circle, examining the room to see if she's forgotten anything. 

She's rocking a sort of Rosie the Riveter look today. Her lush blonde hair is tied back in a red scrunchie. The tails of her short-sleeved black shirt are knotted over her midriff. Her jeans are cuffed at the end. It takes all my willpower not to stare.

'I'm ready!' she decides. 

 'Let's go, We'll miss the bus at this rate' I say. 

Roseanne links arms with me and we follow Jennie and Jisoo outside.

 Rosie hates being late. It's one of the anxieties Hank is supposed to help her manage. How Top could make anybody feel less anxious, I've never understood, but he's the cutest emotional-support animal you'll ever meet. Part Jack Russell, part Yorkie, part tornado.

He sniffs my hand as he follows us out. Maybe I didn't clean all the squid juice from under my fingernails.

I grab the go bag I packed last night. I'm not taking much: change of clothes. Wetsuit. Dive knife. Dive watch. None of us knows what the weekend trials will be like. They'll be mostly underwater (duh), but the upperclassmen won't tell us anything specific. Even Tae. They take their vows of secrecy very seriously. It's annoying. We jog to catch up with Jennie and Jisoo.

To get to the quad, we have to go downstairs and pass through the eighth-grade wing. For a long time, I thought this was an annoying interior-design flaw. Then I realized the dorms must have been arranged like this on purpose. It means the chum have to get out of our way several times a day, looking at us juniors with expressions of fear and awe. For our part, every time we pass through, we can think As lowly as we are, at least we're not these schmucks. They all seem so small, young, and frightened. I wonder if we looked like that. Maybe we still look like that to the upperclassmen. I imagine Taehyung laughing.

Outside, the beautiful day is heating up. As we hurry across campus, I think about all the classes I'll be missing because of our trip. The gymnasium: six climbing walls; two rope courses; hot and cold yoga rooms; courts for basketball, racquetball, volleyball, and bungee ball (my favorite). But Fridays are for martial arts. I'd be spending my morning getting thrown into a wall by Jennie during matches. I can't say I'll miss that. 

The aquarium: the largest private research facility in the world, I'm told, with a better variety of marine life than Monterey Bay, Chimelong, or Atlanta. We operate rescue-and-rehabilitation units for leatherback turtles, otters, and sea lions, but today would be my day to scrub the eel tanks, so see ya! 

The natatorium: three swimming pools, including the Blue Hole, big and deep enough to run submarine simulations. The only larger swimming pool in the world is at NASA. As much as I love my indoor dive classes, I'll take the open ocean any day. 

Finally, we pass Verne Hall, the 'gold-level' research wing. What goes on in there, I have no idea. We won't be allowed entry until we're seniors. Verne's gilded metal facade stands out among the campus's white buildings like a gold-crowned tooth. Its dark glass doors always seem to taunt me. If you were cool enough, like your brother, you might be able to come inside.HA-HA-HA-HA.

You'd think out of forty upperclassmen, somebody would be willing to drop a little juicy gossip about gold-level classes, but nope. As I said, their commitment to secrecy is absolute and annoying. Honestly, I don't know if I'll be able to stay so tight-lipped if I get to be an upperclassman, but that's a problem for another year.

In the main quad, seniors are lazing on the grass. They're all done now except for finals and graduation, the lucky bums. Then they're off to top universities and promising careers. I don't see Tae, but his boyfriend, Junkook, my house captain, gives me a wave from across the lawn. He signs, Good luck.

I sign back, Thanks.

 I tell myself, I'll need it.

 I shouldn't be too worried. Our class is already down to twenty people –the max number allowed to advance. We lost ten students during our chum year. Another four so far this year. Theoretically, the rest of us could all survive the cut. Also, my family has attended HP for generations. And I'm the freshman prefect for House Dolphin. I'd have to screw up really badly to get kicked out ... 

We're almost the first ones to the bus. But, of course, Hwasa has got there before us. She's standing at the door with his clipboard, ready to take names and kick whatever needs kicking. The Shark prefect is short, dark, and fierce. Behind her back, everybody calls her Beyonce, because she sounds exactly like Beyonce. She's not nearly that cool, though. We've come to a truce since last year, but I still don't like her.

'Jennie Kim' She checks off her name but won't meet her eyes. 'Roseanne Harding Park. Prefects. Welcome aboard.' She says this like our shuttle bus is a battleship. I give her a little bow. 'Thank you, Prefect.' 

Her eye twitches. Everything I do seems to bother her. That's okay with me. During our chum year, the Shark made Jennie cry. I will never forgive her for that. On my side, I can almost feel Jisoo's coldness radiating off her. Rosie clutched my hand a little tighter.

Bernie is our driver today. He's a nice old dude, retired navy. He's got a coffee-stained smile, silver hair, and gnarled hands like tree roots. Dr. Hewett sits next to him, going over the day's schedule. As usual, Hewett is pallid, sweaty, and disheveled. He smells like mothballs. He teaches my least-favorite class, Theoretical Marine Science, or TMS. Most of us call it 'too much stuff. Sometimes 'too much shit'.

Hewett is really strict, so this doesn't bode well for the trials. We sit at the back of the bus, as far away from him as possible, even though that means being squashed against Rosie for an hour. I don't mind much though.

As soon as all twenty freshmen are on board, the bus gets underway. At the main gate, the heavily armed paramilitary dudes wave and smile as we leave, like, Have a nice day, kids! Don't die! I guess most high schools don't have this level of security or the fleet of tiny surveillance drones that constantly circle the campus. It's weird how quickly you get used to it, though.

As we turn onto Highway 1, I look back at campus – a dazzling collection of sugar-cube buildings perched on the clifftop above the bay.

 A familiar feeling washes over me: I can't believe I go to school here. Then I remember I have no choice but to go to school here. After what happened to our parents, it's the only home Tae, Jisoo and I have in the world. I wonder why I didn't see Tae at breakfast. What had security said when he reported that flicker of light along the security grid? It was probably nothing like he thought. Still, I clutch the black pearl at the base of my throat.

 I remember the last words my mother ever said to me: We'll be back before you know it. Then she and my father disappeared forever.