Variant

by Robison Wells

Page 21

 

  “You can get some ibuprofen down in the infirmary,” Curtis said.

  “I’d have to deal with some Society moron. ”

  “You’d like the girl who works down there,” he said. “Blond, cute. ”

  I was lying flat on my back, but nothing was comfortable. “Laura is blond and cute, too. And she tried to send me to detention. ”

  “That’s Laura,” Curtis said. “This girl’s cool. Anna. ”

  “No thanks. ” I’d already heard about the infirmary from Mason. In addition to Anna, Dylan worked there. I didn’t want to see him again, let alone ask him for help.

  Curtis nodded, leaning over to look at a small photo of the Brooklyn Bridge that Mason had hung above his desk. “Your loss. There are a lot of cute girls here. ”

  I sighed, staring at the bunk above me. “I know. ” I rolled onto my side but found it just as painful as my back. Curtis was still there, like he was waiting for something. “I’ll give Maxfield one thing: There’s a lot to be said for the uniforms in this place. Girls at my schools never wore skirts. ”

  He laughed. “Anyone in particular?”

  I shook my head, and even that sent little bolts of pain up my neck.

  “I think Jane likes you,” he pestered. “The V’s have all the best girls. Jane, Gabby, Rosa, Lily. Carrie, of course, but she’s taken. ”

  “I’m getting out of here,” I said, closing my eyes. “Not dating. ”

  “Have it your way. ” I heard his footsteps against the hardwood floor as he left the room.

  This was all so stupid, so fake. The people in here only knew about things going on inside the school, and they’d convinced themselves that it was all okay. They dated. They studied. Lily had said that in her spare time she planned new paintball tactics. And now they were downstairs celebrating that they’d won a game. In the last three days I’d gotten kidnapped, been on the losing side of two fights, fallen out of a tree while trying to escape, and been shot repeatedly. And this afternoon, at the graveyard, I’d discovered that my problems were just beginning. It could get a lot worse.

  Mason came back from the showers a few minutes later. I was lying down, eyes closed. I felt like crying but didn’t want to let the security cameras see.

  “Who do you follow?” I asked, needing to talk about something outside the walls of Maxfield Academy. I cracked open one eye. “Sports teams, I mean. ”

  Mason looked puzzled. “Nobody, I guess. Not anymore, of course. ” He dug through his closet for some casual clothes. “I follow paintball. ”

  I stared at the bunk above me. “What sports did you like? Before you got tossed in here. ”

  “Used to play a little baseball. ”

  “The Giants took the Series last year. Where are you from, anyway?”

  He tapped on the photo by his desk. “New York. I tore that out of a textbook a couple months ago. Don’t tell on me. ”

  “The Yankees are having a good year. Mets, too. The Knicks won’t. They never do. ”

  Mason pulled a sweater on, getting dressed for the party. “I barely remember the teams. It’s been too long, I guess. ”

  I rolled onto my side. I need medicine.

  “I’m not going to be here long enough to forget,” I said, more to myself than to him.

  I tried to sleep, but it just wasn’t coming. I hurt too much to get comfortable, and my brain kept replaying my escape attempt, trying to think of a new solution to getting over the wall. I could make a rope. It wouldn’t be hard to use the bedsheets. For the first time ever I could see how that movie cliché got started—it was by far the easiest substitute for rope I could think of. But then what would I do with it? The brick wall was fairly smooth—there wouldn’t be anything for a grappling hook to hold on to, even if I could make one.

  I could chop down a tree, maybe. Lean it against the wall and climb it like a ladder. That’d be easier with more people, but no one seemed to be stepping up to the plate to help me, even the V’s.

  Maybe I could dig under the wall. The groundskeeping sheds had to have shovels. But then I’d have to persuade Havoc to help me. Or break in.

  I got out of bed. There was no use trying to sleep anymore. I moved to the window and checked my watch in the pale moonlight. It was just after three o’clock.

  There was haze out in the forest, just enough to blur the trees and hills. I wanted it to be smoke. Where there’s smoke there’s fire, and where there’s fire there’re people. I thought I’d seen smoke when I was up in the tree—maybe there really was someone out there.

  But tonight it was impossible to tell. Maybe it wasn’t anything at all—just the darkness and a dirty window.

  Mason was sleeping soundly in the top bunk, snoring enough that I could tell he wasn’t aware I was up. He’d come back an hour ago. I’d heard all the V’s come back from the party, laughing and happy, but there hadn’t been any sounds for the last thirty minutes.

  I checked the closets to see if anything had been delivered, but nothing had changed. My paint-splattered sweats still sat on the floor, and my rumpled shirts were on the hangers.

  My fingers ran along the edge of the closet, trying to feel where the permanent wall ended and the elevator began. There was a tiny gap, and I thought I almost felt a little breeze. It might have been my imagination.

  One thing I hadn’t done yet was try to leave the dorms at night. I’d checked the rules and there was nothing in there saying we weren’t allowed to, but I wondered whether the door would even unlock for me. Like all the other doors, each dorm room had a sensor and a deadbolt.

  My room door has to be unlocked, I reasoned. In case we need to go to the bathroom.

  Sure enough, the knob turned in my hand, and the cooler air of the corridor swept in as I peeked outside. The only light I could see, other than from the window at the end of the hall, was the narrow glowing crack coming from the bottom of the bathroom door.

  I left my room, wearing just a pair of gym shorts and a T-shirt. The hardwood was like ice under my feet, but my cautious footsteps were silent—the wood didn’t creak or groan at all under my weight.

  There were no sounds other than the hiss of a radiator and the occasional snore that was loud enough to be heard all the way out here.

  Pausing at the junction where the Society and Havoc hallways branched off the main one, I listened for any others who might be awake, but heard nothing. In the dark, I could barely make out the clutter that hung from Havoc’s ceiling.

  I shouldn’t be out here alone. The thought kept nagging me, but I pushed it away. The other gangs didn’t like me, but they were all sleeping.

  There was a noise on the Society’s side—nothing loud, just a little click. No lights were on under their doors.

  I continued down the hallway, passing dozens of empty dorm rooms. They were closed, but not locked. I entered one and walked to its window to see what the view was like. It looked down on the front side of the building. The narrow road through the woods looked black against the surrounding grass. I couldn’t see the moon from where I was, but the stars were brilliant, just as they’d been the night before.

  Not that a beautiful sky makes up for anything.

  I left the window and went back into the hallway.