Page 6 of Evergreen Academy (Society of Magical Botanists #1)

Chapter Five

“ T he Evergreen Academy?” Maci squeaked over the phone. “You’re joking, right?”

“I’m not. This is so surreal.”

“I’ve never heard of anyone local being invited there. This is… incredible.” I could practically hear the wheels turning in Maci’s brain over the phone.

“I know. I’m a little nervous but mostly excited. I’ve been pretty interested in the place since we went there for that picture.”

“Have you told your aunt yet? Is she okay with you going?”

I sighed and shook my head, even though Maci couldn’t see me. “Not yet.”

“Your aunt is cool, so she’ll probably say yes.”

“True. I’ll probably wait to tell her until after I go check it out. Then I can dazzle her with either how interesting or how boring the place is. ”

“You better take some pictures. I’m dying to see what that place looks like inside.”

“Actually… Professor East said there are no cell phones allowed.” I cringed and braced myself for her response.

Maci gasped loudly. “ What ?”

“He said the research there is sensitive or something like that.”

“Okay, now I’m even more intrigued.”

“I don’t know how I’m going to concentrate on anything else this weekend.”

“You can come do your homework at my house, if you want. You can try to tackle some calculus with me. That will take your mind off the Evergreen Academy.”

“Yes to your house. No to calculus.”

“I gotta go, B. My mom’s calling me for dinner.

Text me.” I pictured Maci’s tiny mother prepping their dinner around the family table.

While the Phouthavongs had been in America for a few generations, Maci’s family still observed the Laotian tradition of sitting on the floor and eating from a low table, and I’d joined them many times.

“Bye. Say hi to your mom.”

After hanging up with Maci, I prepped a few things for work the next morning, trying not to obsess about the Evergreen Academy and what it might be like.

I was worried that I had built it up too much in my head and had to repeatedly remind myself that I had been invited by Professor East, a prestigious instructor at Siskiyous Community College.

If he was involved, it couldn’t be anything too mysterious.

Could it ?

My curiosity failing to ebb, I flopped onto my bed, opened my laptop, and began to search.

The online results for Evergreen Academy were mostly things that I had seen or heard about before.

There was a short Wiki page describing Evergreen Academy as a private college, with very little information given.

There were no pictures provided beyond those of the symbol on the gate attached to the brick wall of the grounds, and I’d already seen that in person.

I zoomed in and studied the logo more closely. It consisted of the curving letters EA with curling leaves and vines surrounding it. Pretty nondescript but somehow charming. Did the leaves and vines have any significance, or were they merely objects that looked nice to the eye of the designer?

I switched to an online discussion forum, where a post that was eight years old had received a few replies. The original poster had asked if anyone knew about Evergreen Academy, located in the expanse of forest between Weed and Mount Shasta, California.

There were a few replies but none that I could put any credence in. The theories echoed what my friends had said when we were at the gate.

It was a mystical church.

It was an elite private college for the very rich.

It was a wellness retreat full of hot springs and yoga.

It was a secretive government research site.

It was a second home for the mythical lemurians, when they weren’t living under Mount Shasta.

I sighed as I closed my laptop. Whatever Evergreen Academy was or had been, its online presence was tiny and unremarkable. Whatever research was going on at the campus today, its leadership certainly didn’t want the public to know about it.

Next, I searched for Professor East and found his bio on the Siskiyous Community College webpage.

After a slew of accolades and degrees from well-known universities and publications in academic journals, there was a single-line entry noting that he was a distinguished researcher with the Evergreen Academy.

If Professor East was a biology instructor, with a Ph.D. in Ecology, that had to mean that Evergreen Academy was science connected, didn’t it? Or was it a full-service college like SCC and bigger than I’d been imagining?

I changed tactics once more and did some digging into the property that encompassed Evergreen Academy.

After a deep dive into public records on land ownership, I came across something curious.

The area registered under the academy’s name was about forty acres, but there was an attached parcel registered to Perennial Farms for another one hundred acres.

I recognized the farm name from our local farmers’ market.

Was there a connection, or did the two pieces of land happen to be neighbors? If there was a connection, the academy grounds were sitting at nearly one hundred fifty acres, much larger than I’d anticipated.

I dug around for another hour, finding a very basic website for Perennial Farms, but didn’t manage to uncover anything revealing.

Like that of the academy, its digital footprint was incredibly thin.

I didn’t know what to make of that for either place, especially now that I knew the academy was active.

It seemed impossible for an individual, let alone an entire academy, to keep such a low profile online these days.

The dark-haired guy from the forest entered my mind again.

The whole interaction had been so strange.

He’d been there in the middle of the night, all alone.

If I hadn’t been about to touch the stone ring, would he have made his presence known at all?

I had a thousand questions about the academy, and I knew myself well enough to know that I was going to struggle to relax my curiosity between now and Monday.

I took a break to water the flowers on the tiny balcony of our building, paying special attention to the climbing rose plant—lovingly nicknamed Rosie—that had been in my family for generations.

The petals were a vibrant watermelon pink, and my mom had always told me I’d been named Briar Rose after the plant.

Aunt Vera and I had been carefully keeping it alive since my mom passed away, not wanting to let down either my mom or any previous generations of Belroses.

As I looked at Rosie climbing a trellis against the siding of the house, I pictured the entrance to Evergreen Academy and the swirling leaves and vines on the logo.

“Stop worrying about it,” I finally said aloud before letting out a deep breath. I put in my headphones, settled into the red Adirondack chair with my sketchbook, and stretched my legs out under the hanging string lights.

My heart rate slowed as I allowed the work with my hands to calm the endless questions. Come Monday morning, one way or another, I’d have answers about Evergreen Academy.