The Academie

by Amy Joy

  THE ACADEMIE

  By Amy Joy

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright 2011 Amy Joy

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted, in whole or in part, in any form or by any means, or stored in any form of retrieval system, without prior written consent of the author.

  Countless hours of work went into producing this story for your enjoyment. Please respect this by not illegally transferring it to others.

  This is a work of fiction, and as such, any similarity to actual events or people—living or deceased—is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  For Christian…my Bryan

  CONTENTS

  the threshold to hell

  ruby

  streptencoholitis

  dorm life

  stupidness

  lights out

  zxbfeie

  dean’s bagels

  the room to nowhere

  fitness testing

  paris via time machine

  back to basics

  andy

  grandma marie

  daytime nightmares

  the path to enlightenment

  birthday wishes

  the stable atom

  the corn graveyard

  flour and flowers

  the voodoo prohibition

  dodgeball

  tumbling into fairytale

  please stay…

  morning breath

  the hidden value of the arts

  the rock

  the longest winter

  a place to hide

  hide-and-seek

  spring

  visitation

  overlapping spaces

  reality check

  mass delusions

  the fine line of sanity

  forbidden territory

  déjà vu

  the run around

  shades of gray

  when teachers attack

  expulsion

  lines of code

  subtle changes

  schoolcraft

  the door

  happy sadness

  dr. stanford

  the arrest

  1. the threshold to hell

  This is the day I hope to forget…

  “Looks like a lot of people are already here,” mom called from the front seat of what used to be my car.

  I’d surrendered my keys that morning. Dad said they planned to sell it. My six-year-old brother, Andy, wouldn’t need it for years, and by the time he did, he’d be headed to where I was now: The Academie.

  Five years ago, I started high school. Life was normal. I worked hard at school and made Honor Roll. Got a job, saved for college, and picked the best school I could find. Mostly, all I wanted was to get away.

  And I did. But not for long.

  Two years ago, things got nuts. Tommy Bacher of Oakfield, Massachusetts brought a 9mm firearm to school. In a matter of minutes, he took out his Spanish class, along with half a cafeteria of students in study hall. Then he took off running. Hours later, they found him under the stadium bleachers with a bullet in his head and a note that read: “I hate you all.”

  “Tommy’s Crusade”—as the media dubbed it— set off a series of violent outbreaks. Two weeks later, fifteen-year-old Sarah Branstein broke into her step-father’s gun cabinet, loaded his 12-gauge shotgun, and sat waiting for her parents to come home. Her mom was the first unlucky victim, picked off with groceries in her hand and Sarah’s four-year-old half sister, Emma, trailing behind. Sarah’s mom took two shots to the abdomen and lay bleeding to death till her husband came home. When Mr. Branstein walked in, he purportedly found little Emma crying over her mother and Sarah still armed and waiting. She took several shots at her step-father, killing him instantly, before calling the police to tell them what she had done.

  Countless similar events followed, creating a media frenzy and widespread panic. I think this was the beginning of the changes to come. Shortly after, I overheard teachers talking about policy adjustments to deal not only with teenage violence but also dropping test scores and general student apathy. I remember Mrs. White saying something about us not being able to solve basic equations and Mr. Moffet declaring that he didn’t think we’d be prepared to take care of ourselves, let alone hold down a job.

  Our country’s solution? The Academie: a nationwide compulsory boarding school program, designed to replace our current high schools. At least, that was at first. In its first year, two things happened: student success increased, and violent crimes outside The Academie failed to decrease. The result: even though I’d already graduated, I was being sent back to high school—imprisoned more like it.

  Me and every other adult under 23.

  “Should be nice to see all your old friends again.” Mom turned in her seat to smile at me in the back of the car.

  I was starting to lose it. I’d already told her a dozen times that I didn’t care about seeing anyone from high school again. She wasn’t listening.

  As huge supporters of The Academie, my parents ignored anything I said against it. I think they believed I’d jump on board with it all once I was part of it—like my sixteen-year-old brother, Matt had done.

  I was certain they were wrong.

  When dad stopped the car, I started to feel really sick. He and mom bounced out of the car and mom opened my door as dad opened the trunk to grab my things.

  “Come on, Allie,” mom sang from the doorway.

  I sat there, paralyzed. It felt as though they’d brought me to the threshold to hell. I can’t do it. I can’t go back in there. Especially now….like this.

  “Come on, Allie,” mom repeated. Her tone was impatient.

  I couldn’t move.

  “Alathea Rose! You get out of that car this instant!”

  Does she know I’m nineteen?

  Does she know this is still my car?

  “Allie,” dad said, now standing beside her, “What kind of an example are you setting for your brother?”

  I sat there. It was so easy for them. They thought they were right.

  I knew I was.

  “Fine!” mom snapped. “I’ll go get an officer and they can get you out!”

  She knew that would do it for me. There was no way I was going to let an officer make a spectacle of me. I grabbed the trash bag mom kept in the car to keep her vehicle tidy and huffed loudly as I exited. “I’m taking this for when I vomit.”

  Mom rolled her eyes. I didn’t care.

  Dad had set the small bag of personal items The Academie allowed me to have on the ground. I grabbed them up.

  Then I saw Andy. His little boy eyes were filling with tears.

  I set the bag back on the ground and bent down so Andy and I could be eye-level. “It’s going to be okay,” I said, rubbing his head.

  He reached over and gave me a big hug. I felt his body shake as the tears heaved through him. That’s when I lost it. It’s going to be okay, I told myself.

  My head ached and my face felt puffy as I stood again and attempted to wipe the tears away.

  Mom swooped in then to give me a hug. It was stiff and uncomfortable.

  Dad followed her lead.

  I turned back to my mother. “Could you at least take care of the flowers Bryan gave me?”

  “They are cut flowers, Allie. They won’t last another week.”

  “You could dry them out.”

  “Honey, they aren’t going to be any good.”

  My body felt heavy. It was an effort to pick up my small bag.

  “Say hello to Matthew,” mom said.

  I huffed and turned away.

  Clenching my jaw to hold back the te
ars, I left my life behind and walked toward my future home.

  2. ruby

  The sinking feeling in my stomach renewed itself. The ancient stone building looked the same as I remembered, but the sixteen-foot barbed-wire prison fences around the perimeter and guard shack by the drive reminded me that this was no longer Grant High School: Home of the Angry Bees.

  A line had formed at the school entrance, and I looked ahead to see what the hold-up was. But given my size, I couldn’t see anything.

  “What are we waiting for?” I asked the girl ahead of me.

  She turned and I could see I wasn’t the only one who’d been taking this hard. Her eyes were swollen and her voice was tight as she answered. “I think they’re collecting papers.”

  I started to rummage in my bag. Weeks ago I’d been given extensive paperwork to complete, and was told to bring a copy of my social security card and birth certificate.

  The girl in front of me sniffed. I wanted to say something, but I kept quiet. Sometimes you just need to be alone to cry.

  I watched as she tried to wipe the tears away, and I reached into my bag again, rummaging about until I came upon a pack of tissues. “Here,” I said, holding them out to her.

  “Thanks,” she answered, accepting the pack. She wiped her face and blew her nose. “Sorry…I’m just…”

  “No, it’s fine. Really, I understand.”

  “I have a daughter, Charlotte,” she answered.

  “Oh,” I said, surprised.

  “How old is she?” It seemed like a nice enough way to make conversation. Apparently, it was not the right thing to say.

  Tears started down her cheeks. “Five days.”

  “Five days?”

  She brushed a red curl from her face.

  I was still shaking my head in disbelief. Then I realized my mouth was open. “I can’t believe that. Couldn’t they give you some sort of a waiver?”

  She shook her head. “I asked. I even provided research—proof of why it was better for Charlotte if I stayed with her for at least the first few weeks.

  “I was denied. If they make exceptions for one, they’ll have to make exceptions for all,” she said in a mocking tone.

  “They’re bastards,” I said as the line moved forward.

  She smiled. “I’m Ruby.”

  “Allie,” I said.

  A few weeks back, an itinerary had been mailed to me. I pulled it out of the pocket I’d crammed it into an hour ago and smoothed it just enough to see where we were headed.

  9:00 a.m. New Student Orientation—Gymnasium

  As we reached the door, we were met by Academie personnel in full military regalia. Welcome home, I thought.

  “Papers,” one officer said, as two others relieved us of our personal affects. There was no doubt that our bags would be searched before being taken who knows where. My picture of Bryan is as good as gone…

  Reluctantly, I followed the mass of people heading for the gymnasium. Ruby walked alongside me. We moved along slowly, as others quickly bustled by.

  As I expected, the gymnasium was packed. How The Academie planned to join my class of about five hundred as well as the two classes above mine with the current enrollment of high school students was beyond me. They claimed they had it under control.

  Groups scattered here and there throughout the bleachers. People seemed to have found each other and reformed their old cliques. It should have felt like a reunion, but all I could think was: I thought this part of my life was over.

  “I’m thinking about a seat up there,” I told Ruby as I pointed to the top left side of the bleachers.

  She nodded. “I’ll follow you.”

  We climbed to the top and sat down. A man of medium stature, dimpled skin, and graying hair cleared his throat at the podium, and I reluctantly turned to listen.

  “Welcome, new students.” Not him again. I recognized the guy from my brother, Matt’s orientation. He’d frustrated me then by not giving out any useful information. “As you may already know, I am Major Robert Gray of Academie facility #214.” He paused and looked around. “Life here will probably be very different for you than how you have come to know it so far…”

  I can’t listen to this. How am I going to survive the next three years? How will I keep from going insane?

  I glanced around the room. A few familiar faces caught my eye. There were a surprising number I didn’t recognize. Then again, there were a surprising number I didn’t recognize at my graduation.

  I glanced to the doors. The ones of the far side—which used to lead outside—had been closed off. I turned to look back at where we’d come in. Armed guards lined the gym entry.

  No escape.

  After what seemed an eternity, Major Dimpled stopped babbling and we were dismissed.

  “So, that was enlightening,” Ruby said, looking to me. Her eyes were still swollen and her face blotchy from crying, but the tears seemed to have subsided for now.

  “I zoned out. Anything interesting?”

  “Not really. Did you hear the part about the student survey?”

  “No. What?”

  “Supposedly, 98% of students claim to love The Academie and think it’s one of the best things that’s happened to them.” She rolled her eyes.

  “You’re kidding?” I shook my head. “That can’t be true.” I thought they must be lying, but then I thought about my friends back at college. Several actually looked forward to joining The Academie. And the one time I’d visited my brother, Matt, his loyalties were too obvious. Traitor.

  “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be among that 98%,” Ruby said as she stood. “It looks like the crowd is clearing. I guess we better head to Medical.”

  “Oh no! Is that next?” I pulled out my itinerary again.

  10:00 a.m. Health Evaluation—Medical Bay

  I had forgotten all about it. I’d seen it on the schedule when it arrived in the mail and lashed out at my parents about it.

  “I don’t understand why we have to go through this when I just had an exam and a bunch of shots a year ago to start college. Why can’t The Academie just look over those records?”

  “Tell me about it,” Ruby said. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been to the doctor in the last nine months. Tell me those records aren’t current.” She shook her head.

  “How are they going to get all of us through there now anyway?” I asked. “There must be fifteen hundred people here.”

  As if on cue, Major Dimpled was back at the podium. “There are a lot of you to get through the medical bay and a long line has already formed as a result. I encourage you to take a seat here, and we will let you know when the line has shortened.”

  Ruby and I looked at each other, annoyed, and sat back down.

  “So, how long ago did you graduate?” I asked.

  “Two years ago.”

  “You?”

  “A year ago.”

  “College?”

  “Yeah. Westfield, down by Dayton,” I said.

  “Oh, right. Yeah, a friend of mine thought about going there. I went to Brandon University. That’s where I met my daughter’s father. I was planning to go back to school after the baby was born. My mom said she’d watch Charlotte. But then, well, you know, we found out about the new Academie age guidelines.”

  I wanted to ask if her daughter’s father was here too, but judging by the fact that she was sitting alone when I met her, I’m guessing that’d be a ‘no.’

  “I was going to transfer to Brandon, actually,” I said. “I had my acceptance and everything. Then I found out that I had to come here instead.”

  “Sounds like you were almost as thrilled as I was.” Her eyebrows rose with a half smile.

  “Oh yeah, thrilled. I thought I had it bad though; I’m so sorry for you.”

  “She was a surprise; you know, Charlotte. At first I panicked. Here I was, with over half my college education still ahead of me and a baby on the way. It wasn’t the way I’d planned thin
gs.

  “Oh, and the father freaked when I told him. That was it. It was over. He didn’t want to have anything to do with me—let alone her. I couldn’t believe it.

  “At first I was so upset; I felt so alone. And then, as she continued to grow and the due date got closer, I felt different. And I knew somehow that it all was going to be okay, that I’d figure something out—a way to raise her and finish college to create a future for both of us.”

  I smiled. I’d always thought that I was a strong person. But listening to her, I wondered if I really was. She seemed to exude a strength I could only hope that others saw in me.

  “Of course, it helped that my parents were really supportive. My dad was pretty quiet about it at first, and I thought maybe he was really disappointed in me. But my mom, she was concerned, but she was so happy to know that she had a grandchild on the way. It may have helped that Derek—the father—was such a jerk. I think mom felt bad for me and that made her want to help me even more. She said she’d be there to help with whatever I needed. And she was. And now, she’s out there, taking care of my little girl.” Her eyes refilled, and I knew that soon the silent tears would be drifting down her cheeks again.

  I didn’t know what to say except, “I hate this place.”

  She managed a small smile that seemed to say, ‘thank you.’

  “So how do they all seem to be okay with it?” I asked, looking at the droves of people waiting to be herded off to the medical bay.