The Academy of Underachievers: Year One

by Alex Dafney

  The Academy of Underachievers

  Year One

  The Academy of Underachievers

  Year One

  Copyright 2019 Alex Dafney ©

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your personal use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the authors work.

  ISBN: 978-1-7332661-8-5

  Published: Alex Dafney 2020

  Alexdafney.com

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  About the Author

  Other Books by Alex Dafney

  Chapter One

  My parents gather my six brothers and me in the living room of our small ranch style home. Mom clutches a worn book to her chest while dad holds a small box in both of his hands.

  I move into my oldest brother's side, Braxton, him lifting his arm and wrapping it around my shoulders protectively as he always has.

  Fifteen, twelve, ten, nine, the seven-year-old twins, and me at five years old all huddle together on the couch watching our parents intently.

  Dad steps forward, placing the box on the coffee table in front of us. As he opens the box, an excited smile spreads across my face for the jewelry inside. I love jewelry. Mom sometimes lets me dress up in her necklaces and bracelets, but having something of my own would be great! Dad pulls a chain from the box with a simple stone pendant. The light from the overhead fixture highlighting a small intricate design along the smooth black surface.

  “Braxton, this is yours, son. Keep it on you at all times.”

  Braxton swings his arm from around me, holding his hand out as dad drops the chain into his palm. My eyes widen as he pulls his hand back to him, both of us staring down at the design that begins to glow a bright blue.

  “Wow!”

  As I move my hand toward his, dad yells. “Don’t!”

  I jerk my hand away, staring up at him with frightened eyes. Mom and dad never raise their voice. He gives me a soft smile as I blink back tears. “I’m sorry, Briar. You can’t touch another’s crest, though.” With a small shake of his head, his eyes move back to the box before him. “I was going to wait until you are older, but.” His words trail away as he reaches inside the box, pulling out a ring with the same stone as Braxton holds beside me.

  Moving around the table, dad drops to one knee in front of me, pulling my hand from my lap and placing the large ring on my index finger. My lips pull into a bright smile as the crest on the front glows a bright pinkish-purple, my two favorite colors.

  Dad chuckles as he rises. “Should’ve known your color would be pink and purple.” Mom moves closer, admiring the ring on my finger with a small smile. “It suits you, Briar.”

  After handing out the stones of various settings to my remaining brothers, mom and dad take a seat on the coffee table, facing us fully. “These are your personal charms with our family crest. Never let them out of your sight. Understood?” We all nod, even if we don’t fully understand. “Without these, you won’t be able to see paranormal beings.”

  Braxton’s head pops up from where he looks down at the chain around his neck. “Paranormal? Like, ghosts?” Dad chuckles as he nods while my eyes bulge to the size of saucers. “Yes. You come from a long line of paranormal enforcement agents.” Glancing over to my brothers, I’m glad to find they also wear confused, shocked expressions.

  I stare up at the ancient building from the backseat of my dad’s station wagon as that long-ago memory plays through my mind.

  “I can not believe I am dropping one of my children off at this forsaken institution.”

  I cringe inwardly as I move my eyes to see the soft shake of his head from behind. “I’m sorry, dad.”

  He lets out a sigh as he pushes the car door open, striding toward the trunk.

  I look over to mom as she turns in the front seat, giving me a sad smile. “He’ll be better when you’re able to transfer to a decent school next year.” She turns from me, getting out of the car.

  I look back to the massive building through the window. From what I’ve read, the building dates back to the eighteenth century, with winding staircases that lead nowhere, gargoyles in the archways, and candelabras lining the hallways.

  My brows draw together as I see one of the large gargoyles directly above the entranceway point at me, stick his tongue out, then give me a thumbs down gesture.

  With a sigh, I push open the door of the car, stepping outside and glancing around at the other students who are arriving.

  I stumble to the side as someone barrels into me.

  “Watch it, freshman.” A young man with curly red hair sneers at me before jogging up the steps toward the school.

  Taking a deep breath, I turn to face my parents, plastering a bright smile on my face in contrast to their sad scowls. “Wish me luck!”

  Dad shakes his head lightly, looking away from me as mom steps forward, opening her arms wide. She pulls me into a tight hug. “You’ll be fine, baby. It’s only one year.”

  Wrapping my arms around her middle, I nod my head against her shoulder. One year and I can reapply to an academy that better fits my abilities and scholar and will meet my parent's approval.

  Mom takes a step back, my arms falling from around her as I watch her dab at the corners of her eyes with a crumpled tissue.

  Dad takes her place, giving me a chaste hug. “Keep up your studies. This place is a joke.”

  Nodding again, I look up to him as he pulls away quickly, keeping his eyes averted from mine as he walks around the back of the car, pulling the driver’s door open and sliding inside.

  I look over to mom as she places her hand on my arm, looking at me through teary eyes. “Don’t worry, Briar. You’ll do fine here.”

  Without another word, she strides past me, getting in the station wagon, leaving me standing on the curb, my bags at my feet. Watching the car pull away, I have to stop myself from running after it, reminding myself there’s only one hundred and eighty-three days in this school year.

  A young man stumbles next to me under the weight of his large bags. Abandoning my own on the sidewalk, I rush to him, offering him my hand.

  He looks up to me, a questioning look on his face as he slowly places his hand in mine, pulling himself from the ground. Once he’s standing, I give him a bright smile. “Hi. I’m Briar Knotwood.”

  He lifts one
eyebrow, raising his hand and pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose with one finger. “Brad Pitte.”

  I scoff, thinking he must be joking, but quickly school my features as he scowls at me. “Oh, I thought you might be joking. It’s nice to meet you.”

  He huffs, folding his arms over his chest. “I’m sure it’s hard to see the resemblance to the famous Brad.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek as my eyes wander along him. His short stature, chubby cheeks, glasses, and classic band geek look don’t scream his relations to the movie screen hottie.

  He lets out a chuckle as my eyes move back to his, waving a hand toward me. “We’re not related.”

  I nod my head as he hoists one of his bags on his shoulder.

  “You’re a freshman?”

  I nod again as he rolls his eyes.

  “Should’ve guessed it by you standing on the curb like there’s no decent rooms to be fighting for.”

  I narrow my brows in confusion as he begins to stride toward the stairs, glancing at me over his shoulder with a knowing grin. “Run, freshman. The rooms are first pick, and you don’t want to get whatever is left over.”

  My eyes widen in shock. Scrambling for my suitcase and few bags that sit on the curb, I grab everything, quickly darting up the stairs. The suitcase bangs behind me on every step before I rush through the large arched wooden doors that are propped open.

  Glancing side to side, people move along everywhere, not going in any specific direction to give me a hint as to which way I should venture.

  Chancing it, I dart to the left, moving through the sea of people and hurrying along the hallway. Doors begin to slam on each side, letting me know those rooms have been claimed. Coming to the end of the hall, I halt to a stop, spinning and jogging back in the opposite direction. Crossing over the main entryway, I find the massive doors closed, most of the students gone, and all of the doors along the right hallway closed.

  I let out a small sigh as I let the bag slip from my shoulder, glancing around at the remaining students. My eyes lock with a dark-haired girl with a young face. Giving her a warm smile, I start toward her. “Do you know where the rest of the dorm rooms are?”

  She arches one brow upward, rocking back on her foot and placing her hand to her hip that she juts outward as she gives me an award-worthy resting bitch face. “Downstairs, freshman.” Lifting her hand, she curls her fingers inward, pointing to a spiral staircase over to the side of the room.

  “Thank you,” I clip as I heft my bags up.

  She rolls her eyes as I move toward the stairs, lugging my belongings with me. The staircase is less than easy to maneuver with my heavy load, but I manage to make it to the bottom, letting out a huff as I reach the floor below.

  Drawing my brows together, I take a right, hoping to find a decent room. The humming of machinery intensifies as I walk by closed doors.

  The last door on the left remains open, and I sprint toward it.

  Stepping inside, my jaw drops open. The clinks and clanks of the air conditioning unit are obnoxiously loud. Looking up to the ceiling, I listen as the clear sound of water running through pipes permeates the small room.

  Dropping my bags to the floor, I lift my hands, covering my face as I sigh deeply.

  “Is this room taken?”

  I spin, dropping my hands as a girl peeks her head around the doorway.

  “Uh, yeah. I’m taking this room.”

  A devious grin pulls onto her face as she steps into the door fully, dropping her hands to her waist. “Good luck. No one has ever stayed in this room and made it through the school year.”

  I flinch as a loud clang comes from above, glancing up to the ceiling. “Yeah, well, I’ll be fine.”

  She lets out a chuckle as she turns, disappearing down the hallway.

  Stepping over to the door, I slam it closed. Lifting my hands and placing my fingers to my temples at the ridiculous noise that comes from above me. After several seconds, I drop my hands, looking around at the less than ideal conditions of the small room. A twin size bed with a worn mattress rests against the far wall. A simple dresser that leans to one side due to a broken foot sits next to me, and a rickety, uneven table rests against the wall next to what I assume is the closet.

  Walking over to the door next to the table, I pull it open, finding a solid cement wall. Tilting my head upward, I let out a long groan.

  “Orientation will be held in the cafeteria in thirty minutes. Maybe forty. Be there, or don’t. No one cares.”

  My eyes widen as I look over to the small box that rests on the table that the feminine voice comes from. “What the hell kind of school is this?”

  I spend the next twenty minutes unpacking what I can into the dresser and attempting to string a makeshift line to hang clothes from in the small bathroom. Glancing at the watch on my wrist, I push myself from the floor where I hover over my opened suitcase, moving toward the door.

  As I step outside my room, I expect to see students walking through the hallway, eager for orientation. Instead, I find it empty.

  Taking the steps of the spiral staircase two at a time, I quickly find myself in the entranceway alone. I draw my brows together tightly as I walk toward the cafeteria that is indicated on a plaque on the wall. I’m sure this is just another prank on the lowly freshmen. Placing my hand on the large wooden door, I push with everything I have, but it doesn’t budge.

  Stepping back, I drop my hands to my hips, scowling at the door as I wonder how to make it open. A small smile crests my lips as the heavy wooden doors swing inward, allowing me to step inside. The room is empty, except for one boy who stands behind a podium at the front of the room, looking bored beyond belief.

  I walk toward the front of the room, glancing down at the watch on my wrist, finding myself to be a few minutes early.

  The doors close heavily behind me, him looking up from the podium. His eyes widen as they land on me as I slide into a chair at the very first table. “Um, are you lost?”

  I glance behind me, making sure he’s not speaking to anyone else, but I’m still the only other person in the room. Looking back to him, I give him a shrug of my shoulder. “I’m here for orientation. Am I not in the right place?”

  A small smile creeps onto his face as he stares at me. “You’re in the right place, but probably not the right school. No one shows up for orientation around here.”

  I let out a heavy sigh as I place my arms on the table, folding them and dropping my head down.

  “I’m Jet Langburne.”

  Lifting my head, I find him standing on the opposite side of the table, a kind smile on his face. His name suits him with his jet black hair and charcoal-colored eyes.

  Lifting my hand from the table, I place it in his, him grasping it firmly in his large, warm hand.

  “Briar Knotwood.”

  He holds my hand in his for longer than socially acceptable as he tilts his head to the side, seeming to study me. “Why are you here?”

  I slip my hand from his, placing both of mine in my lap before shrugging. “I thought everyone would come to orientation.”

  He chuckles lightly, pulling the chair out from across me and straddling it backward. He gives me a sympathetic smile as he scrunches his nose up. “You’re the first student I’ve had come to orientation in the last two years I’ve been doing this.”

  I groan, lifting my hand and smacking it to my forehead. I’m already becoming the nerd of the school.

  He chuckles as I slide my hand down, resting it in my lap. “What room did you get?”

  I shake my head lightly, staring at the table between us. “One hundred.” I lift my eyes to his, looking at him under my long lashes as he grimaces.

  “Damn. Tough break.” His dark eyes meet mine, giving me a small smile. “I’ll tell you what, whenever the noise gets to be too much, come up to my room and you can get a decent night of rest.”

  My mouth drops open at his blatant proposition. Pushing my chair back, I
stand, scowling down at him as my hand rest on my hips. “I don’t care if you have the penthouse in this place, I won’t be sleeping with you just to get out of my room.”

  He rises from his chair, standing as well as his eyes widen, shaking his head quickly. “Briar, I didn’t mean it like that. You literally have the worst room in the building. I was just offering you a haven when it gets to be too much.”

  My cheeks instantly burn with a blush as I drop my gaze to the table, embarrassed that I thought this handsome boy might be interested in me. “I’m sorry. I just, I’m not that kind of girl.”

  I look up to him through my lashes as he chuckles, walking around the table. He stops next to me, reaching his hand out and placing it on my shoulder. “I had the same room my freshman year. It’s awful. I spent most of my nights in a tent in the back gardens.”

  Lifting my head, I find a humorous smile on his face as he slides his hand away from my shoulder. Jutting his head toward the door, he gestures his hand. “Let me give you the official tour for the Academy of Underachievers.”

  I force a small smile as he turns, me falling into step with him as we walk toward the wooden doors that lead back to the lobby area. He reaches for a large button that sits on the wall, pressing it, and the doors begin to open. I make a mental note to look for buttons if doors don't open in the future.

  “This is the main entranceway. The building dates back to 1818, this being the oldest part.”

  Craning my neck back, I look up to the tall ceiling that is painted in an intricate portrait of a man with rippling muscles facing against a man in a long, dark cape. A woman stands next to him, a seductive smile on her lips, and a man on the other side with a hood over his face. “Wow.”

  Jet chuckles next to me, causing me to drop my head, glancing over to him from the corner of my eye as we stride toward the doors that lead to the front of the building. “These doors are the original ones that were placed on the building nearly two hundred years ago, as well as the artwork on the ceiling.”

  I watch as the doors swing inward slowly as he presses another button along the wall.