Tender in the Mist

Tax time is upon us, but my mind was somewhere back three years and thousands of kilometers away.  My kids are wandering London, hanging out in the mists of Kensington Gardens.  This is one of those places I want to visit before I kick it off, but I have a feeling this is about as close I’ll ever get.

Then again, that’s my writing:  all about my fantasies and desires.  Go figure.

Let’s get back to the scene, shall we?

 

(All excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Two: B For Bewitching, copyright 2015 by Cassidy Frazee)

They strolled slowly along the tree-lined lanes of the garden, holding hand, hardly speaking as they wandered through the quite, misty park. After a while they came upon a bench that was almost completely dry due to be positioned under two overhanging trees. Normally they offered shade; today they’d formed a shelter for a couple in love.

Kerry waited for Annie to sit and get comfortable before joining her, settling in to her right. He set his backpack next to him before reaching inside and pulling out the letter he’d written that morning. “This is for you.”

“Thank you.” Annie took the letter and slipped it into her purse.

“I finished it just before Erywin called. I was going to post it, but she kept me clear of the boxes.”

“For good reason.” She wrapped her hands around Kerry’s left arm and pulled herself into his body. “This is just like our first night at Salem. That’s why I love this weather.”

“I love it, too.” He also loved Annie gloaming onto his arm and snuggling close to him. “Are you now going to tell me you love me, and that you’ve loved me for a long time?”

She chuckled before kissing him on the cheek. “Yes, I am. And I do. And I have.” She pressed the side of her face against his shoulder. “Is your mother still calling me The Girl Who Writes?”

“Yeah.” Kerry scoffed. “Better than being The Girl Who Waits.”

 

In the next scene with Kerry’s parent he’ll get to the root of those last statements, and you’ll discover where it comes from.  Hint:  if you know his parents, and Kerry, then you know.  At least Kerry’s still writing, still putting pen to paper.  I’ll have to figure out just how many letters these kids have written.

Given what Kerry said, Annie feels the need to retort:

 

“But you’re wrong.” Annie pulled away from Kerry, though she never let go of his arm. “I’m always waiting for you, my love. I’ve waited for you since the day we parted in Amsterdam, and I waited for you for in my dreams, and I waited for you at lunch.” She bushed her nose against Kerry’s cheek. “And I will wait for you until the end of August, when we come together once more before departing for school.” She kissed the corner of his mouth. “I wait until I once more stand y your side.”

“You’re wrong.”

Annie flinched at Kerry rebuttal. “What do you mean?”

“I wait to stand by your side.” He turned and hissed her upon her smiling lips. “Seven weeks.”

 

And just for the hell of it I went and checked the time between when “now” is supposed to be, and when they’ll get together again, and–yeah, seven weeks.  Kerry is clever.  But we knew that.

 

“Until we met again in person.” She drew in a deep breath. “Assuming we don’t meet for lunch again.”

“I’m not expecting it to happen. So . . .” He shrugged. “I’m guessing the next time we meet up is before we leave—”

“Berlin.”

“Is that where we’re meeting this time?” He was aware if anyone knew the location of the B Level departure city, it would be Annie.

“That’s what my mother told me last week. She heard about it from her friends in the Foundation.”

I wonder what else her friends have heard? After returning from Yule Annie told him a little of what her mother had learned about the Day of the Dead attacks, the awards they’d both been given, and his injuries that required his hospitalization. Annie said her mother made no mention of their night together, likely because Nurse Coraline had said nothing about what she’d discovered, and the only other person who was aware of what happened that night wasn’t speaking . . .

 

I was questioned about what Helena and Mama Kirilova may have talked about, and while I know–and of course I do–it does seem as if Annie’s mom only need make a few calls and she finds out things about her darling daughter.  Kerry has it pegged, though:  she probably doesn’t know about their sleeping together because no one is talking about that.  It does raise the question of what does she know about Annie’s time at school–or if she’s being a snoopy mom hoping her little girl isn’t getting into too much trouble.

As they say, however, all good things must come to an end . . .

 

Kerry’s mobile beeped, and the tone told him it was an incoming text. As he retrieved the phone, Annie leaned towards him. “Is it—?”

He read the message. “Yeah. They’ll be here in ten minutes.” He returned the phone to his backpack. “Not much time now.”

“No, there isn’t.” She stood, then pulled Kerry to his feet. “I’m sure they’re going to key in on your mobile; we should find a place in the trees for them to join us.”

They stepped off the path and found two trees which offered enough cover for their friend to jaunt in and rejoin them. She knew they wouldn’t stay long: Helena had promised Annie’s mother that her daughter would return by eighteen so she wouldn’t miss dinner.

That time was quickly approaching.

Annie stood before Kerry, her head slightly hung. “Stupid time zones.”

“I know.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled in close in a warm, loving hug. “I wish I could stay with you all day.”

“And through the night.” She secured her arms around his back. “It’s not fair that we only have these short moments together, that we can’t meet in our dreams as we once did—”

“At least we can write.” Kerry wasn’t happen with their holiday situation, either, but he’d quickly developed the mindset that since there was nothing he could do to improve their situation, it did no good to decry what was fair and what wasn’t.

“I know.” Annie buried her face against Kerry’s neck and shoulder. “But I want more.”

“And what Annie wants—” Kerry chuckled as he lifted her away so he could kiss her. “—Annie—”

Annie stared back with mist-filed eyes: a single tear slowly trickled down her right cheek.

 

And that’s where I left it, with Annie and a single tear.  I can hear it now:  “She’s crying?”  Well . . .

Only in the sense there's water that came from inside her body on her check.

Only in the sense there’s water that came from inside her body on her check.

When the scene ends, you’ll discover a little more about the why.  At least you know she can.

Talking on the Town

There is this thing called “Real Life” that gets in the way of what writers do for either a living or for free.  That was pretty much me yesterday, as I spent most of my time out on the road until about seven PM, at which point I was completely out of it in terms of having creative juice left to stir.

First off, I walked into work in a pair of shoes I shouldn’t have.  This means I was in pain by the time I got there, because of really large blisters on my heels.  Which I popped at work, which came back as I walked home.  Which means by the time I treated them at the apartment before heading off for my appointment means I was in a lot of pain and having trouble walking.  Like I am this morning.  They’re sort and tender and . . . yeah, you get the idea.

But I have good news on the medical front.  My prolactin count has peaked–that’s one of the new hormones I’ve got stored inside my body–so no need for an MRI, my blood pressure was down about twenty points, and “the girls”, as the doctor calls them, are still growing and firming up nicely.  It’s good news all around.

The drive out to see my doctor is long; the drive back, longer.  Which means by the time I reached The Burg I was pretty burned out as far as getting anything done was concerned, and I didn’t get into the novel until after eight PM.  Closer to eight-thirty, actually.  I didn’t feel much like writing, but I wanted to keep going as I’ve been going because, well, writing.  You want to get back into that grove, that rhythm, that pops up when you’re starting a project.  You get to writing, not making excusing.

I managed a little over five hundred and eighty words, and here they are:  my kids back together again.

 

(All excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Two: B For Bewitching, copyright 2015 by Cassidy Frazee)

After lunch the urge existed to find things to do, but as Annie said, “We have plenty of time in the future to sightsee—I’d rather be with you.” That was what happened: they left the Pret a Manger and headed to Russell Square park and wandered about there for a while before returning to the tube station and taking the Underground to Lancaster Gate, across Bayswater Road from Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens.

They headed over to the Kensington Gardens side of the park and walked hand-in-hand. They walked south past the Italian Gardens and along the west side of the Long Water. They stopped at the Peter Pan statue and lingered there for close to twenty minute nearly alone. The cool, rainy weather kept people indoors, and there were few pedestrians to cast wondering glances at the young couple walking close together, their hands intertwined.

They deviated for the lake’s shore and headed inland, standing for a while inside the Queen’s Temple when a light rain began to fall. Kerry finally chose this moment to ask Annie about how she ended up coming to London for Lunch.

“She visited Sunday.” Annie leaned against the wall catty-corner from where Kerry stood. “My mother and her spoke for about two hours while I was out at the Lake House; Helena made a point of insisting they speak alone.” She set her hands behind her back and shook her head. “I should have realized she was planning something.”

“I watched your dad race Sunday.” Kerry had streamed the British Grand Prix from Silverstone that day.

“Yes, he came in fifth. I watched it later after he returned home.”

Kerry couldn’t imagine Annie sitting with her father watching a race, but he had no reason to believe she’d lie. “You think your mom and Helena were talking about lunch the other day?”

“I’m not sure. Mama said they talked about what I’ve done in sorcery and some of the thing Helena planed for our B Level, but that was probably just a small part of what they discussed.”

Kerry thought that was likely true as well. He couldn’t see why Helena would discuss sorcery with Annie’s mother and not have her present as well; it was completely unlike her. “I take it she showed up today?”

“Yes, right after lunch. She spoke with my mother for a few minutes, then came up to my room and said she was taking me to lunch, and told me I didn’t need to change my clothes, because where we were going the weather was similar, and that she’d return later.” She repositioned her hands before her. “So I only nibbled until she returned.”

He nodded. “Was your dad there?”

“Yes, he was.” Annie grinned. “He knows Helena by reputation, and was cordial to her. I think having three sorceresses in the house made him nervous.”

He almost laughed thinking about her father—whom he’d never met—trying to remain casual while Helena and Annie’s mother chatted before Annie joined them. He has to know just how great a sorceress she is by now. “Hope he wasn’t too scared.”

She looked down at the ground for a moment. “He survived the experience.” Annie reached out and took Kerry’s hand. “It’s turned to mist; I want to walk.” He followed, a large grin stretched across his face, as he loved walking in cool mist as well.

And he liked it even better walking along with Annie.

 

I should mention that I also spent about half an hour looking though Google Maps and checking out Underground routes just to get those first three paragraphs right.  I could have spent less time, I admit, but I was tired, and it was a nice diversion to keep the mind semi-sharp.  And I like maps.

And I snapped this right before I went to bed.  Resting Bitch Face is all you can muster after a long day.

And I snapped this right before I went to bed. Resting Bitch Face is all you can muster after a long day and you’re not wearing makeup.

What will today be like?  I’ll find out soon enough.

So will my kids.

Preparing For the B Time

Twenty-seven days to go before I start writing, and I’m starting to wonder about what I really need to do.  About this time I’m normally doing a lot of prep work for the novel, doing my research and getting my notes together, and things of that nature.  But now?  Nothing.  Really.  It’s almost all been done at this point, so . . . where to?

Though working in an office with a view while I wonder what to do would be a great help.

Though working in an office with a view while I wonder what to do would be a great help.

Last night I updated some time lines and thought out some future scenes, but it didn’t go much beyond that.  Oh, and I bought a pair of shoes.  Yep, you know where my mind is, right?  And when I mean “future scenes,” I mean for stories down the line, like . . . oh, I can’t really say, can I?  I give away too much when I do.

I was going over music last night, in part because I listen to music when I’m writing–for the most part–and tunes have popped up here and there in the story.  We know a few of those songs by name–Zoo Station was one, Watcher of the Sky was another, and we know Annie wants to Call Me Maybe–but there are a few songs I know I’ll use in future, sort of like setting up the soundtrack of my kid’s lives.  In fact I’m listening to one of those songs right now at six in the morning, and as I do I can almost see that scene playing out in my head as I write.  Yes, things more than one at a time I do, uuuurrrrrr.

I’ll likely put together a post of all the songs, future and past, and set up the videos for all to see, because if there is something we can all use, it’s tunes by which to get our creative juices flowing.  I’ll need time to gather all the videos off YouTube, though, so look for that around Saturday.  (And I realized on my walk in that I need to work on the sort of music that Annie likes, because Kerry likes a lot of the stuff I like, and . . . yeah, need to work on that.)

I also know what birthday presents the kids give each this time around, so no need to sweat that on out, either.  Because that was an important part of their lives during the last school year, and it’s going to be important for them this year as well.  That is something I’m putting together in my timeline notes for every year, because it’s always going to get shown in each novel.  And now that I think about it:  is Annie going to get something for Kerry for their London Meeting anniversary?  She’s gonna have to hustle to get him something retroactively–or was she thinking ahead before she got to Berlin?

You can tell I spend a lot of time with this stuff roaming about in my head, and even though I’m not doing anything, something is always going on.  Truly, I’m really considering doing a post tomorrow based upon one of my characters as possibly determined by a Simon and Garfunkel song . . .

Imaginary Journeys Past and Future

Back to work for a short time yesterday before heading out to get labs and dinner after almost twenty-four hours of fasting–a certainty that I’m back in The Burg and getting into my normal routine once more.  This also means that I’m back to the plotting and  planning and whatnot, and you’re right if you said I was up to something last night.

Most of the evening was taken up getting the last of the tour of Europe I’m sending my kids on in their future finished.  It wasn’t hard, believe me, because there were only three other cities to visit, with a stopover in Brno for a quick early lunch and a fast dart around the track before heading off to Vienna.

Who do you think won that race?  Wanna take bets?

Who do you think won that race? Wanna take bets?

It was a good thing I decided to plan out this trip, because it showed me where I could expand the stay overs to allow them their fifty days on the road.  It also allowed me to figure out where they were going to stay while roaming about Europe, and looking up hotels and imagining them waking up to see a Paris side street, or the historical square of Prague, or the blue Danube flowing past, was part of the entertainment that comes from putting stuff like this together.

Which is how I go from this--

Which is how I go from this–

To this.

To this.

And you should see the Junior Suites at the Hotel de L’Europe.  Oi.  Those kids got taste.

What does the whole trip look like?  A bit like this:

All through Europe, there and back again.

All through Europe, there and back again.

One of the last legs of this journey has them flying from Budapest to Sofia while following the course of the Danube for most of the way.  They end up spending about four hours in the air, their longest leg after the first.  Like with some of the other cities, staying in Sofia allows Annie the chance to show Kerry around the city and the country beyond.  It’ll also be a little comforting to her, to spend a few days in her home country before heading off for that lake house not far from her parent’s house.

And what happens after they arrive there?  I know what happens, but you’ll have to wait until I write the D Level novel to find out what goes down.  I’m just not telling you, at least not now.  All you need to know right now is that Kerry somehow ends up at Annie’s home in Pamporovo, he’s got his Espinoza, and he’s not afraid to use it.

But before I can get to D, I gotta get through B . . .

I checked my blog this morning and notice the countdown timer has changed–

I'm into days now!

I’m into days now!

Thirty days to go, and I wonder if when it gets down to less than a day if it’ll go to hours.  Doesn’t matter:  the time is set and it’s a go.  I will try to, at the least, finish the first scene, and perhaps the second and third as well.  The first scene starts off with Kerry back home, and then it goes from . . . there.  What happens next?

You’ll see in a month.

Along the Old Paths Newly Beaten

First, let’s get this out of the way:  Kolor Ijo is finished as far as the edit of the first draft is concerned.  It’s a done deal.  See?

Done deals are done.

Done deals are done.

So now it’s onto finding a cover and doing another edit pass–which should go quickly–and getting it published.  Sometime this summer, for sure, but it’s gonna get done.  I promise that.

Now that I have this story out of the way, I can say I enjoyed revisiting these two characters, and the supernatural world of Indonesia, and . . . I do want to do it again.  Maybe the next story in this series could be next year’s April NaNo Camp novel.  We’ll see, but I want to go here again.

However, there’s something standing in the way, and that’s only about a month away from fruition . . .

Yesterday afternoon I got back into working on my time line for the Big Euro Tour my kids go on that won’t be talked about for a few more novels.  Yes, I plan years in advance, but that’s how I am–crazy, right?  Right.

The last time I showed the time line I was in Lyon, so where in the world are my kids now?

Technically they exist only in my mind, but we'll assume they're in Eastern Europe.

Technically they exist only in my mind, but we’ll assume they’re in Eastern Europe.

As you can see they made it to Paris, then moved eastward to Bruges, Amsterdam, Burg–which is south of Munich–and then Prague.  If you’ve never heard of Bruges, it’s in Belgium–as the time line points out–and it’s a wonderful old town that at one time was a seaport–even though it’s now eighteen miles from the English Channel–and has a four hundred year old brewery, which makes it one of the oldest in Europe.  It’s about an hour from Brussels by train, so if you happen to be in that neck of the woods, give it a visit.  Also, the movie, In Bruges, was filmed there, so if you want a quick look at the city between scenes of people being killed, give it a gander.

There’s also a mark there which says they’re Seeing the Seer, and that’s a little side trip out of Lyon to fly south so Annie and Kerry can visit Deanna.  Where is she?

Unlike Waldo, she's easy to find.

Unlike Waldo, she’s easy to find.

The entirety of the journey follows the Rhine River to Montélimar, which is a little over one hundred and forty kilometers south of Lyon.  I put in her a secluded chateau, which I hope the people now living there won’t mind, but it’s the sort of place where I can see Deanna living.  And just so you know, they’ll visit a couple of other instructors as well during their trip.

It’s funny, but all the places Annie and Kerry are staying from Barcelona to Bruges are the same places I stayed when I traveled the same route in 2006.  Only I went the whole way by train, and didn’t make any side trips on high tech brooms.  It only makes sense that I would fall back on something I know, however, and looking at those same locations on Google Maps brought back some interesting memories–including one that involved a dream someone had of the same hotel room I stayed in while in Paris, only they were staying with, um, me.  Yeah, it was freaky.

When they get to Amsterdam they stay in a pretty swanky place and spend a few days laying about and decompressing before heading to the south of Germany for a few days.  They check into the Hotel de L’Europe and get a suite that most of us can only dream about getting, which means it’s probably good to be a witch living in The Foundation’s graces, because I don’t know many fourteen year olds–as they’ll be by that time–who can just walk in off the streets and say, “Hey, we’re here to check in,” and no one bats an eye.  It’s something that will come up in a later conversation when Annie and Kerry at chatting with one of their instructors.

On the way out of Amsterdam and heading for the forests of Bavaria they buzz the John Frost Bridge in Arnhem–

Otherwise known a "A Bridge Too Far," and one I have personally stood upon--

Otherwise known as “A Bridge Too Far,” and one I have personally stood upon.

–and continue onto Burg, which isn’t far from the German Alps.  The reason they stay there?  Not saying.  You’ll find out later.

While going over the trip I realized that there was a serious exclusion:  there weren’t any stop-offs in Bulgaria.  Now, Annie knows Bulgaria, and if there’s one place she has visited more than a few times it’s Sofia, so . . . why isn’t she taking Kerry there for a little look-see?  In my mind I can see them talking this over, probably in Amsterdam, and deciding that rather than fly from Budapest to Bucharest, they’d fly to Sofia instead and Annie could spend a few days showing Kerry around.  This would involve them flying down a significant part of the Danube River (Kerry will likely dig out the soundtrack from 2001 to play the waltz as they set off) on their way to the capital of Bulgaria.  After that last stop they’ll head back to Pamporovo and Annie’s home, bringing their trip to an end on 31 July as they promised her parents.

Which means the new map looks like this:

Hey, routes are easy to change, don't you know?

Hey, routes are easy to change, don’t you know?

As it is in the time line they only have fifteen more days of sightseeing, and four of those days are spent flying, though since Sofia is on the other side of the mountains from Annie’s home, they can leave the capital after lunch and be back at her place in time for dinner.

There you have it:  all the work I’m doing for something that I may not write about for years to come, if I ever do get around to writing about it.  I hope this happens, though, because it would be the start of the D Level novel, and so much stuff happens during their D Levels–

Things, too.

You knew I’d say that.

After the Turnpike Shuffle

Here I am, more or less safe and sound, back in the old homestead of Indiana.  Let me tell you, it was a wild ride yesterday.

As I may have indicated I started out from Harrisburg about midnight, so by about five in the morning, after only about, oh, no sleep in almost twenty-four hours, I was completely out of it.  I ended up stopping at the service plaza after the one where I posted yesterday’s blog entry, used the bathroom, and slept in the car for a little over an hour.  Outside.  In the cold.  Wrapped up in my jacket.  I’ve done worse, trust me.

Lack of sleep was probably one of the reasons I seemed to get through western Ohio pretty fast, because I wasn’t paying attention to anything but the road before me.  But I made it back to Valparaiso with almost no gas in the car, managed to get unpacked, and napped for almost another hour before taking my shot.

And got the picture in my HRT folder just so I can see how I keep changing.

And got the picture in my HRT folder just so I can see how I keep changing.

I was exhausted though, and was asleep by nine-thirty at night here, or ten-thirty back home, and only woke up once to use the bathroom before crawling out of bed at a little after seven in the morning, or eight back in The Burg.  That’s a good rest for me–

Oh, I should mention, I edited last night.

Really, would you expect anything less?

Really, would you expect anything less?

I did chapters Twenty-Two and Twenty-Three, and started falling asleep as I looked over Chapter Twenty-Four, the penultimate chapter.  It’s because of that last–the falling asleep part–that I decided to call it a night and slink off to bed.

(Just a bit of trivia now:  while Chapter Twenty-Four, the next to last chapter, is known as the penultimate chapter, Chapter Twenty-Three is known as the antepenultimate chapter, Chapter Twenty-Two is the preantepenultimate chapter, and Chapter Twenty-One is the propreantepenultimate chapter.  The Coda is the ultimate chapter, naturally.  Now go forth and amuse your friends.)

I’m happy with how the edit has gone, and I’ll likely do another fast pass through the story before getting to the final draft.  It’s clean, and being as short as it is–just under seventy thousand words–I can give it a read-through in about two weeks.  Bit I will feel far more comfortable with on more pass through the story before I decide it’s ready to upload to Smashwords and ready for publication.

Today I do laundry and a few other things, and I finish Kolor Ijo for sure.  It’s almost ready, and I think it’s a good addition to my tiny catalog of publications.  I’m thinking more about B For Bewitching, and I know I’ll work on the Annie and Kerry Euro Trip time line some, probably this afternoon, because I’m itching to do that.

Oh, and another picture:

Behold the horror of morning without makeup!

Behold the horror of morning without makeup!

Yeah, just to show people I’m alive, I snapped this about forty minutes ago, after a bushed my teeth and shaved.  (Yes, I still do that–bummer.)  No makeup, nothing used to bring out my face, and I’m still in my pajamas.  This is how I look while I’m typing this line . . .

Hope I didn’t scar you with that image.  Haha!

Travelogues and Time Lines

I know I said I was going to edit last night, but . . . I got off on a side track.  I know:  me?  Off on a side track?  Heavens forbid!

But that’s what happened.  I started thinking about one thing, then I flipped off to another, and before you know it I started working on this blasted future time line for my kids which started taking up nearly all my evening time.  As I’ve been told already, “You can’t leave those kids alone, can’t you?”

I would appear I can’t.

I found myself drawn back into working out this time line, because it’s something I need to finish now that I’ve started.  I get like that at times when I find myself unable to concentrate on what I should be doing, and end up doing something I want to do.  And this thing, this map and plan, are something I’ve wanted to do for a while.  So, in order to get my mind off things, I’m in it.  The editing won’t suffer, but I can’t do that every right, right?

Where am I now?  Well, how about here?

That's a lot of moving around for two 14 year olds.

That’s a lot of moving around for two 14 year old kids.

So far the stops are Rome, Florence, Milan, darling, Nice, Barcelona, and lastly Lyon.  That’s where I ended, with them arriving in Lyon, where they’ll take a short jaunt to the west to visit Deanna before heading on to Paris.  It’s all flying until they get to the stretch between Barcelona and Lyon, where I put them on a train running from Barcelona to Montpelier, France, where they pick up the TGV that takes them into Lyon.  Why go that way?  Because Kerry wants to ride the TGV, and Annie’s curious about what it’s like as well.  The fortunate part there is I’ve done that same route:  stayed in Barcelona for a few days, then traveled by train to Lyon and Paris.  So here I speak from a point of some experience.

Using the map as a guide, I’ve managed to work out my time line in better detail . . .

With cute names, too!

With cute names, too!

The bar at the bottom of the screen tells me I’m about a third of the way through the trip, but I know from experience that Paris is going to be a long stay, because the kids love Paris.  In their history they stayed there before heading off to their C Levels, and a fun time was had by all.  It was also the first time Annie and Kerry actually got to hang with a few of their covenmates outside the school, which made parts of the experience even better.  So it’s a fair bet I’ll have them there for a week to enjoy the city, and . . . well, something else happens, too.  Something important.

One last thing I got into yesterday was putting down, on the above time line, what hotels they’re using.  And just to let you know, these kids aren’t roughing it–Annie has money, remember?  Now, while they aren’t going five star all the way, they’re for sure not staying in any hostels.  Can you see these two staying in a dorm?  I can’t either.  It’s fortunate that the places they’re staying have a Foundation connection, otherwise someone might think it a bit strange that two kids dressed in leather pants and bomber jackets come in with nothing but backpacks and confirm their already paid reservation–

And yes:  they do get a discount when they show their Student IDs.