by Cheree Alsop
Dr. Ray nodded at me on our early entrance to his class. We took seats on the furthest row and I watched the other students file in.
“That was awesome,” Jayce said breathlessly from the seat in front of me. “He didn’t even touch you! I need you around more often!” He held out a hand palm up.
I stared at it, uncertain what he wanted me to do.
“Give him a high-five,” Nikko said dryly from the chair behind me. “Not like he deserves it or anything.”
Jayce glowered at him. “You know she kissed me first. Dane overreacted, like usual; at least I don’t have to worry about him anymore.”
“Unless he seeks revenge, or Kale gets expelled. A great move for a first day,” Nikko argued.
Jayce rolled his eyes. “You know Dane’s not going to blab to the principal. He’s already lined up for a suspension if he’s in another fight.” He held out his hand again. “You high-five like this.” He slapped his palm with his other one, then held it up again for me to do the same. I slapped his hand and he grinned.
Brie shook her head from the seat next to me. “Boys,” she said before turning back to her book.
Dr. Ray watched us with lifted eyebrows. I dropped my gaze and ran a hand along the cold table, tracing the names carved into the top.
It felt surreal to meet the semi-interested gazes of the other students, only to be dismissed as just another newcomer. My heart hammered at the secret I hid. Jayce threw me a glance when the bell rang and everyone was settled; I realized he felt the same way.
Human anatomy rushed by in a blur of facts spoken in Dr. Ray’s calm tones. We waited for the rest of the class to file out at the bell; I rose feeling like I had conquered something.
“See, piece of cake,” Nikko said.
“I could use some cake right now,” Jayce replied.
I didn’t know how he could think about food; my stomach was in knots with nervousness.
“Just breathe,” Brie said at the look on my face. “It’s going to be alright.”
Dr. Ray nodded at us when we walked past his desk. “Have a great day, guys,” he said with a humored look.
Students rushed past us to their next classes while Brie showed me where my locker was and Jayce unceremoniously dumped the book Dr. Ray had given me inside. Nikko kept looking around; I knew he was concerned about Dane.
“I’m not worried about him,” I said quietly on our way to the next class.
“I know,” Nikko said, throwing another glance over his shoulder. “But Dane doesn’t mess around. Once he has you in his sights, he never lets up.”
I shrugged. “I can take care of myself.”
He gave me a frank look. “You’re not the one I’m worried about.”
I fought back a smile at his tone, but Brie grabbed the sleeve of my jacket and pulled me to the side of the hall so the students heading to class could flow around us. “We’ll catch up,” she said to Jayce and Nikko. They walked far enough down the hall to not overhear, then waited near a drinking fountain. Brie sighed and turned back to me. “Look, you can’t do that here.”
“Do what?” I asked, surprised.
“You can’t fight, and you can’t hurt students the way you did Dane.”
“He’ll be okay,” I replied, my brow furrowed at the intensity of her tone. “I was protecting Jayce.”
“Jayce deserves what he gets,” she said. My eyebrows rose and she sighed. “Fighting isn’t how we resolve things around here. It’s not civilized.”
Her words sent a stab through my heart. I wondered how words could hurt so much; I fought to hide the emotion. “Then how should it be resolved when Dane’s obvious intention was to hurt Jayce?”
She glared up the hall at Jayce. “By talking it out or not doing the deed in the first place. Jayce knew better than to kiss Janice, but he loses his mind around pretty girls.”
“So he needs to work it out himself?” I hazarded.
She gave a slight frown. “It’d be a good lesson for him, but I’m afraid Dane won’t give up. You’ll have to watch your back.”
“I’m used to that,” I replied.
She nodded and I followed her to Jayce and Nikko. Jayce and Brie left down the next hallway to math, and I followed Nikko to the biology class we shared.
Long white tables scattered with microscopes filled the room. Posters of dissected cartoon animals, a diagram of photosynthesis, and slides demonstrating mitosis lined the walls. A whiteboard covered in rough sketches of plants stood behind a long wooden desk.
The teacher, a slightly balding, tall, skinny man with glasses and a sincere smile motioned at us from across the room.
“Mrs. Bean said we had a new student.” He glanced around the room and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a finger. “We don’t have any free microscopes, so you’ll have to work with Nikko. He can fill you in on what we’ve done so far.”
He motioned for us to take our seats, then picked up a sheaf of stapled papers from the corner of his desk and raised his voice so the class could hear, “Today we’re studying the fourth stage of mitosis which is anaphase. The chromosomes will be moving to opposites sides of the cell so that it can prepare to split. Look in your microscopes, identify any cells in anaphase, and draw them on your paper. You should have the first three phases already identified.”
I glanced at Nikko; he grinned and whispered, “Don’t worry; it’s easier than it sounds.” The teacher dropped a stack of papers on our table. Nikko picked them up, took the top two pages, then passed the rest down to a girl with long red hair pulled into two braids.
I studied the paper for a minute before scooting the microscope closer. The images were blurred, but Nikko showed me how to adjust the focus. Little circles suddenly appeared. A smile pulled at the corners of my mouth as I looked for the cells in anaphase.
***
I met Brie outside of the English class we shared. She gave me a smile. “How’d it go?”
I hefted the biology book. “I’ve got a ton of catching up to do, but Nikko says he’ll tutor me. I did like the microscopes.”
She made a face. “Just wait until they make you dissect a frog.” She went into the classroom and I followed her to the back row. An older lady with short, gray-streaked black hair set copies of books on the desks. She wore a red shirt and gray skirt with a black sash around her waist.
The teacher gave me a kind smile as she handed me one of the books. “Welcome. You’re fortunate to join us in time for Macbeth.” She leaned closer and said in a loud whisper, “Just don’t think you can watch Mel Gibson and get the gist of it. Several of your peers tried that with To Kill a Mockingbird and didn’t fare very well.”
“Hey,” the boy in front of me said indignantly.
The teacher shrugged. “I warned you, Ryan. I’ve watched the movies, too.”
The student next to him elbowed him when the teacher walked away; they both started laughing.
I ran my fingers through the worn pages of the book, amazed at how easily they were handed out. Ryan grabbed his copy and shoved it into his backpack without noticing how the pages bent. I cringed, thinking of how difficult it was to get books at the Academy. We had been forced to hide them with great care. If any were found, it meant beatings and confinement for the student, and the teacher was never seen again. I lifted the pages to my nose and inhaled the dusty, worn scent of faded ink on old paper. Brie glanced at me. Embarrassed, I set the book back on my desk, but she smiled and smelled her book, too.
“The last student who read this either had a smoking habit or lived with smokers,” she said, setting it quickly down. I laughed and the teacher threw us a warning glance. We fell silent as she began to read the first chapter of the book aloud.
“Does she say it out loud because some of the other students don’t know how to read?” I asked after class. We met up with Jayce and Nikko at the end of the hall and walked together to the next class we shared.
Brie laughed. “They can read, b
ut so many failed the test on To Kill a Mockingbird that she’s convinced reading it in class is the only way anyone’ll get through it.” She glanced at Jayce. “And she might have a point.”
“I read it,” he exclaimed. At her look, he shrugged. “Well, the first page, a couple in the middle, and then the end. But,” he said with a triumphant grin. “It was enough to get me a C minus!”
Brie shook her head. “How on earth do you expect to pass your sophomore year settling for a C minus?”
“That’s all you need,” Jayce replied. “Besides, I’m acing history and economics, so it’ll even out.”
Brie and Nikko exchanged an exasperated look as Nikko held open the door to our history class. The teacher, a short, bald man with glasses, was busy writing facts on the whiteboard in various colors of markers. I was surprised to see that he wrote everything without referring to a textbook or notes.
There were designated desks, so Brie and Jayce sat near the front while I took an empty seat by Nikko at the back. I heard a humming sound and realized it was coming from the teacher as he finished the last of the notes and swiftly dotted a few i’s that he had missed. He then turned with a flourish and waved at the board.
“Copy this down. It will be on the test next Friday. Also, read Chapter Seventeen and it wouldn’t hurt to brush up on some weapons of World War I while you’re at it.” He wiped his hands on the front of his vest, then sat down at the big wooden desk and pulled out a paperback book that didn’t look at all history related.
I glanced at Nikko. He gave me a thumbs-up and proceeded to copy down the notes. I fought back a wry smile and did the same.
***
By the time the bell rang and we broke for lunch, I felt like I had truly accomplished something. I was surprised at what the students were learning. I would be hard pressed to catch up, but it was a good feeling, like I had an interesting challenge to complete that wouldn’t result in mastering a new way to kill someone.
I followed the others through the lunch line and was amazed at how much noise a lunchroom full of students could make. We carried trays loaded with foods I had never seen before to a circle of grass outside. I leaned back against one of the trees and breathed in the fresh, rain-washed air that chased around us. I propped my injured leg on my crutch and poked at the food on the tray.
“So how’d your first official day of school start?” Jayce asked, biting into a pile of gray and brown gravy-covered noodles.
“Very interesting. I feel like an undercover spy learning national secrets or something. It’s weird.”
Brie grinned at me over her salad. “Don’t worry; you’ll get bored of it soon enough, especially with Mr. Derby’s art class.”
They all groaned and Jayce kicked Nikko’s foot. “What’d you put him in that for?”
“Dad thought art would be a good outlet, and Kale said he was interested in broadening his horizons.”
“Mr. Derby’ll broaden them, that’s for sure,” Jayce replied with a wince.
I shrugged. “Bring it on. The more I can learn while I’m here, the better.” I finished my tray of questionably smelling French fries, apples covered in cinnamon syrup, and peas which actually tasted quite wonderful. We dumped our waste in the garbage can near the doors and handed the trays to a lady with a hairnet and an expression on her face that said she would hit someone over the head with the said tray if they forgot to throw their plastic ware into the recycle bin.
We turned down a side hall and Nikko held open the door to economics. We settled on the back row, a theme I noticed they followed in any classroom without assigned seating. I was starting to feel confident that we had actually pulled it off when I caught a look Nikko threw Jayce.
“What?” Jayce whispered.
Nikko sighed and gestured to the whiteboard.
‘The Galdoni Impact on Our Economy’ was written across the top in red marker. Bullet points and a graph showing the jump in tax money collected since gambling was legalized for the show fifteen years ago were drawn in blue and green. I glanced at Brie and saw her reading the bullet points, her lips a tight crease.
“Alright students,” began the teacher, a woman with tightly-curled, short blond hair and blue eyes hidden behind cat-eye glasses. She smoothed the front of her calf-length brown dress. “We have a new student in class. Some of you may have met him already, but please say hello to Kale Matthews.”
She motioned to me and a few boys said disinterested hellos while several girls turned to look at me; I felt for a moment like a bug under inspection. Three girls gave shy smiles with little waves while a pair in the front corner turned back and started giggling.
The teacher ignored them and jumped into her lecture. “As we began to discuss yesterday, the Galdoni impact has been more markedly felt in the past month and a half since the program was discontinued. Because of this and the government’s steps to take care of those individuals that misused the funds set aside for the program, the Arena is being reopened. There are some who feel that closing the Arena for this short stint of time was planned. Does anyone have an answer as to why that might be?”
A boy with short black hair and stars buzzed into the sides of his head raised his hand. “Supply and demand,” he said.
“That’s right,” she continued. “As the supply runs out, the demand increases. I expect that when the Arena airs again, twice as many people will be inclined to gamble on the outcomes.”
A girl with chin-length brunette hair raised her hand. “Isn’t it illegal for the government to hold a monopoly on the program?”
The teacher shook her head and began a discussion on needs versus wants and their places in the economy. I zoned out her high voice, lost in the mind-numbing thought that the Arena was reopening. Reason dictated that it was only a matter of time, but the time had come quicker than I imagined. I didn’t hear the bell ring and Nikko had to nudge me when the class was over.
***
The intermediate algebra class I shared with Brie went quickly. Math had always come easily to me; it was taught at the Academy to calculate variables, increase attack efficiency, and for better energy management and preservation during a fight. I was actually able to show Brie a few shortcuts on the problems and it felt good to at least know something in one of my classes.
Jayce and Brie held back smiles when they left Nikko and I at Mr. Derby’s Art class. I took a seat at one of the long white tables next to Nikko and promptly found out why.
“A new student!” the teacher said. He was a skinny man with wild brown hair and red glasses. He adjusted a white apron covered in paint splatters, then held out a hand. “Mr. Derby, at your service.”
“Uh, Kale,” I said, glancing at Nikko. He just grinned and sat back to watch.
“Kale, you are welcome to our class!” He waved an arm to indicate the entire classroom which was very slowly filling with students who only seemed to perk up when they noticed the teacher with a new student. “Here we learn how art and color coincide to create magic.” I lifted an eyebrow and he laughed. “Exactly, my boy!” He turned to the rest of the class and clapped his hands. “Places, places. Let the magic begin!”
Nikko pulled out a rough charcoal sketch he was working on of an old barn next to a magnificent oak tree.
“You did that?” I asked, amazed.
He nodded, sliding a plain sheet of paper toward me. “Make whatever you want. Mr. Derby isn’t specific. He just says to make it magical.” He rolled his eyes with a barely suppressed smile as Mr. Derby came back to our table.
“Exactly, Mr. Ray! Exactly. Make it magical. I couldn’t have put it better myself.” He beamed at Nikko and glanced at his picture. “Ah, I simply love that tree. Love it! It will look beautiful on our wall!” He waved his hand with a flourish.
I turned to see a wall filled from top to bottom with pictures from students. Not a single inch of the wall showed through, and the pictures were several layers deep as though instead of removing one to put up another, t
hey were just placed on top. He glanced at me over his glasses. “I’m hoping Mr. Matthews will have something to add as well.”
I studied the blank white paper; it matched the current state of my mind given the task at hand. “I’ll try,” I said uncertainly. I had never made anything creative in my life. The Academy frowned on individualism, and any sign of wavering from the strict studies was swiftly punished. I picked up the charcoal with the feeling of breaking some unspoken rule.
“Don’t try, do,” Mr. Derby said. His enthusiasm was catching and several students around us grinned. “Do your best and your best is what you will do.” He left with a nod as though satisfied by his words.
I glanced at Nikko. “Do my best?”
He grinned. “And your best is what you will do.”
I laughed and twirled the charcoal between my fingers. The blank paper stared up at me as though daring me to smudge its perfect whiteness.
I was still staring at it a few minutes later when Mr. Derby wandered back. “Haven’t found your muse?” he asked.
I shook my head.
He gave a thoughtful frown and pulled at his lower lip. “Whenever I have trouble thinking of what to make, I look through my past for an image that stands out above the rest, something that defines me even though I may not know why.”
I glanced at him in surprise and he smiled. “Even art teachers have a serious side.” He winked and walked away.
I found Nikko staring at me with a confused look. “I didn’t know he had a serious side,” he whispered.
I stifled a smile and stared down at the paper. The white purity faded and I saw the Academy gates as I left them, the silhouetted forms of Galdoni flying over the top, picketers ringing the fence, and the hulking gray form of the Academy building standing empty and menacing behind them.