The Academie

by Amy Joy

  I slid under my sheets. At home my mom had spoiled me one year by buying a feather comforter with a super soft, satiny cover. It felt like heaven when I pulled it over me at night, and along with the heated blanket she’d gotten me years before, I stayed toasty warm year round. Now void of all the covering I was used to, I trembled from the cold.

  I lay awake for hours, shivering; thinking. I thought about Bryan and how two hours away, he lay in his own bunk like this, as he had for the past year. How he’d counted down the days till he’d regain his freedom, and how horrible it must have felt to learn that he now had four more years to go.

  And I thought about our night together, how he held my hand under the stars, how cute he looked all covered in flour, his smile, his laugh, and how it felt as he held me close all night long. I’d been warm that night. I’d felt safe.

  It was the complete opposite of everything I felt now.

  I was so incredibly alone.

  7. zxbfeie

  I didn’t sleep at all that night. I spent the hours thinking, listening to the sounds of The Academie, the soft snoring of girls around me, and the sound of Sergeant Garret’s footsteps in the hall. Eventually, the bell went off and the lights went on, signaling that it was six o’clock.

  Great, exams on no sleep. This should be fun. On the upside, I was able to get a shower before the others awoke.

  At breakfast, I found Ruby again and after another rubbery meal, we headed off to our first exams. Mine was directly around the corner, so I found it easily and slid myself behind one of the computer desks. That’s when my mind went blank. All I could think of was Bryan.

  We met online, after I came home upset from my visit with Matt. I was running searches on The Academie—to find out more, to see if I could figure out what might be going on with my brother—when I came across a peculiar website.

  Click.

  The moment I did it, I knew it was a mistake. With all the danger of computer viruses, I had no business clicking on a link when I wasn’t familiar with the source—but my clicking finger sometimes worked faster than my brain.

  The site went to nothing. Well, no, not nothing. It was stupid. Some game site—all dark and ominous. The only writing appeared to be gibberish.

  Great, I’ll probably get a computer virus. I clicked away quickly and sat there for a few moments, contemplated what to do. Then I opened my anti-virus program, and prompted it to do another scan.

  That’s when my instant messenger popped up.

  zxbfeie: Hi.

  Who the heck is “zxbfeie”?

  I just sat there, staring at it, trying to figure out if I should answer, and if so, how?

  zxbfeie: Hello? Don’t you want to talk to me?

  truth: what do you want?

  zxbfeie: I just wanted to tell you that I like your screen name. well, and I wanted to know what your interest was in the academie.

  truth: what are you talking about?

  zxbfeie: the academie. you want to know about it, don’t you?

  truth: what’s it to you?

  zxbfeie: i could tell you things about it

  truth: who are you?

  zxbfeie: my name is Bryan.

  Bryan? Who did I know named Bryan? I don’t remember meeting any Bryan…

  truth: are you in one of my classes?

  zxbfeie: classes? where?

  Yeah, okay, I’m going to take that as a big fat ‘no’.

  truth: do I know you?

  zxbfeie: you were on my site.

  truth: what site?

  zxbfeie: the one that came up when you searched for the academie.

  Oh no.

  truth: is this your way of torturing me before the virus I’ve inadvertently downloaded from your site shuts down my computer?

  zxbfeie: virus? no, is that what you thought? Hmm…yeah, I can see how you would get that. Nope. no virus.

  truth: sure, this is probably just your way of keeping me online while it finishes its dirty work.

  zxbfeie: listen, if it was a virus, then it’d already be too late, trust me.

  I sat there for a minute, contemplating why I had been continuing this conversation with some nut I didn’t know. When I didn’t respond, he started again.

  zxbfeie: I can tell you about the academie

  truth: of course you can. Everyone can. the tv and internet’s loaded with ads and propaganda—

  I was still in the middle of typing when he interrupted me.

  zxbfeie: I can tell you more than what they tell you

  I hadn’t sent my message yet; it was like he was reading my mind. Unless he was tapping into my computer…

  truth: wait—how were you able to start messaging me anyway? All I did was click on your website.

  zxbfeie: you clicked, I traced your IP address, looked through your files a bit, discovered you are a college student, tapped into your messenger and viola!

  truth: you hacked my computer?

  I suddenly felt incredibly exposed. A stranger went through my things. I sat there, staring blankly at the screen.

  zxbfeie: are you not talking to me again?

  Of course I’m not…

  I considered logging out and unplugging the computer, but he’d already been inside. For all I knew, he had a copy of everything. Besides, he claimed to know things about The Academie. As much as I wanted to end this right now, I couldn’t do it.

  zxbfeie: look, I know it doesn’t make it any better, but I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to invade your privacy. It’s just the only way I knew to find out who you are so that I know if you’re someone I want to talk to or not.

  truth: you could have just asked.

  zxbfeie: but I still would have had to hack into your messenger to do that, wouldn’t I? and how would I know if you were telling me the truth? You could be one of them.

  truth: oh, yeah, that would be rough, not knowing if I were telling you the truth. I can’t imagine how that would feel.

  zxbfeie: I’m sorry, I said I was sorry. And besides, I’ve been completely honest with you.

  I sat there, unsure how to proceed.

  zxbfeie: listen, I didn’t look at any more than I needed to, and I didn’t invade your finances.

  It’s not like I had tons to lose, but I had worked the last two years of my life at a stupid ice cream stand to earn what little savings I had to help put myself through college.

  truth: so what did you see?

  zxbfeie: I saw that you’re a college student.

  truth: how did you find that out?

  zxbfeie: well, you have an entire folder labeled “college papers”, so that was a pretty good clue. I pulled out a couple of papers to find your name and get an idea of what year you might be, and then I contacted you. Honestly, I didn’t see much. I was too excited that my site got a hit. I only posted it a day ago, and you were the first to click on it from here in the U.S.

  truth: really?

  zxbfeie: yeah, it took me a long time to figure out how to hack out of here and find a way that I might get in touch with others without them finding out.

  truth: who?

  zxbfeie: them.

  truth: them who?

  zxbfeie: I’m not supposed to be contacting you. I’m not supposed to be online.

  truth: where are you?

  zxbfeie: there

  How the heck was I supposed to know what he was talking about? It was like he was speaking in code. The gibberish on his website and in his screen name seemed to fit him.

  Then it hit me. He said he knew stuff about The Academie that they don’t tell you.

  truth: how old are you?

  zxbfeie: 17

  Then I knew. There was only one place a U.S. teen under the age of 18 was allowed to be: living at one of the countless number of Academie facilities scattered throughout the country.

  8. dean’s bagel shoppe

  “The math placement exam—like each of the exams you will take today—is computer-adaptive. This means that the tes
t will adapt based on your ability. For every correct answer, you will be given a more difficult one. For each incorrect, you will be given an easier one. From this the computer will determine your ideal course match, which you will see at the end of the test. You have two hours and fifteen minutes to complete the exam, after which time, the test will auto-submit. In my experience, you will need the entire test period.”

  I sighed audibly.

  “Begin.”

  I clicked into the test. Numbers in an equation were scattered in a format I’d never seen. Bryan would know how to do this. Oh god, I can’t do this right now…

  It was a quick step from Bryan hacking my computer to us becoming best friends. I looked forward to talking to him every night and found myself devastated on the ones where night security was so tight he couldn’t get online. But each night he could, he snuck out of his dorm and down into one of the classrooms, and from a teacher’s computer, he’d talk to me until the wee hours of morning. Sure our schoolwork suffered. But I couldn’t remember a happier time.

  “You have one hour left!” the exam monitor called.

  Spending my time in sleepy daydreams, I hadn’t answered a single question. I began randomly selecting answers. I thought I must be doing well because eventually I started seeing equations I recognized. The last couple included simple multiple choice.

  Whew! I thought, watching the screen as the results processed. I must have done better than I thought.

  Your placement is: Basic Math.

  What? There must be some mistake.

  I raised my hand. The test monitor shook her head and placed a finger across her lips.

  When the period ended, I rushed to her desk. “This can’t be right. It says I’m in Basic Math.”

  “I assure you, it is correct. The placement software is excellent. It doesn’t make mistakes. If you’ve been place there, I’m sure it’s for a reason.”

  “But—”

  “—if you don’t like it, then prove by your class performance that you are ready for a higher level, and you will be advanced accordingly.

  I sighed and walked away.

  I’d no sooner left the room, when I remembered that my second exam was in the same location. I wandered back in and plunked myself back into my seat. The tiredness was really setting in now. As students piled into the room, I stared at the computer monitor. It was impossible to look at without thinking of Bryan.

  It was about three months after we started talking online that he’d first suggested it:

  zxbfeie: come visit me.

  truth: what?

  zxbfeie: come meet me

  truth: what are you talking about?

  zxbfeie: I’ve been thinking about it. I think I could find my way out—to get out—at least for a while. And maybe we could meet?

  truth: are you sure? What if you got caught?

  zxbfeie: don’t worry about it.

  truth: when? Where?

  zxbfeie: soon. Could you come out this way? I know it’s about a two hour drive for you—I’d come to you if I could, but, well, you know.

  truth: I would, but I don’t have a car. And I just can’t take a bus—too creepy.

  zxbfeie: right, no, that could be dangerous, not to mention costly.

  Okay, get a grip Alathea.

  truth: yes, I mean, I’ll have to think about it—the visit, that is. I’m not sure it’s a good idea.

  zxbfeie: because I could be a serial killer?

  truth: no, I mean, I don’t want you to get in trouble.

  Okay, a small part of me was thinking of all the stories I’d heard about online guys turning out to be scary guys. It was hard to believe, but there was a chance he wasn’t who he said he was. After all, I had never seen him…

  zxbfeie: look, I’d just like to see you. It’d be so nice to be able to talk to you in person, and it’d be really nice to get away from here for a little while. But it’s not worth the risk…unless you’re there.

  truth: I just don’t know. I want to meet you, but…

  zxbfeie: I was thinking of a public place. Does that help? There’s a bagel shop just down the street from here. I could meet you there.

  truth: wait, how are you going to do that?

  zxbfeie: That’s the interesting part. I noticed it recently. I went outside for the first time in—I don’t know how long, and I walked all the way around the building. And I couldn’t believe what I found. There weren’t the prison fences I thought I remembered. There’s a thick hedge and a brick wall, but I should be able to get over those no problem. I didn’t even see anyone patrolling the day I was out there, so if everyday’s like that, I should have no problem.

  truth: Are you sure? What about the guard shack at the entranceway?

  zxbfeie: guard shack?

  truth: my brother’s facility has prison fences and a guard shack.

  zxbfeie: I didn’t see any of that. Like I said, it didn’t look difficult to leave. I’m thinking maybe they are banking on the fact that none of us will go outside. Which isn’t a bad bet, because most don’t. Until recently, I didn’t either. In our daily schedule, there’s really no time to.

  zxbfeie: so will you visit me?

  truth: if I can find a way there, yes

  “The English Placement Exam is in the same format as your last exam,” the test monitor announced. “The exam will auto-submit at eleven forty-five. You may begin.”

  I thought this exam would be easier than the last. I thought wrong. Usually I was good at English—but that’s when we actually got to write. This was multiple choice, asking me to identify parts of sentences, comma placements, and define words I never knew existed.

  What is the definition of malarkey?

  I chuckled to myself. It was a word I’d heard Bryan use before. I’d teased him about it.

  zxbfeie: what do you expect? My parents are professors.

  It was true; they certainly weren’t the typical American family. I remember it was something I’d looked forward to talking about when we met the first time.

  After we’d agreed to meet, it was all I could think about. When the day came, I got up early and rode the two hours with Mandy, a girl who lived down the hall from me who went to Columbus—near Dublin, where Bryan was—often to visit her mom who wasn’t in good health. We found Dean’s Bagel Shoppe easily with my phone’s GPS, and I sat there nervously, for hours, waiting, hoping he’d appear.

  He never did.

  9. the room to nowhere

  I felt a tap on my shoulder and saw the exam monitor standing over me. She pointed at the screen. Apparently, I had been staring at it, blankly, for some time now.

  I clicked “B” for “foolish talk” to describe malarkey and moved on.

  By the time the exam finished, I was having trouble keeping my eyes open. It was no surprise when I got my results: Basic English.

  I sighed loudly, logged off my computer, and pulled out the schedule Sergeant Garrett had passed out this morning.

  12:00 Lunch.

  Thank goodness.

  I stumbled to the cafeteria and found my way to the food line, searching desperately for coffee.

  “Can I help you, young lady?” A woman in a paper hat looked at me strangely.

  “Yeah, can I get some coffee?” My voice was becoming gravely from the lack of sleep.

  “Very funny.”

  “What?”

  “There’s no coffee here, honey.”

  “Are you kidding?” My eyes felt only half open.

  “Do I look like someone who kids?” Her face was worn—not just wrinkled, but tired with age. Her skin sat unnaturally on her skull—puffy under the eyes and much too baggy around the sides. Little hairs stuck out here and there from her cheeks and upper lip. I had no idea what her real hair color may have once been, but I was fairly certain that it was not the unnatural tone of red that I saw before me. Bright pink lipstick colored her thin, worn lips, and a shimmery green colored her eyelids.

  “No,
” I answered. “But you’re telling me I’m not going to have another cup of coffee ‘till I leave here?”

  “That’s right.”

  “God, this place is hell.”

  “Welcome to my world,” she said, moving me along.

  I soon found that it wasn’t just coffee I’d be missing out on in the years to come. All caffeinated beverages had been removed.

  I hovered around the lunch line, not knowing what to do. I was too tired to make any decision. The one thing I had known was that I needed coffee to reboot my brain. Without it, I had nothing. I have no idea how long I stood there before I felt a tap on my back.

  “Hey, are you all right?” It was Ruby.

  “Yeah…I think…I’m fine.”

  “I wasn’t sure because, well, you’ve been standing here looking lost for most of the lunch period now. Aren’t you going to eat anything?”

  “They don’t have coffee.”

  “Oh, I know. Trust me, I know. I went my whole pregnancy without it only to find out now that I am out of luck.”

  My eyes were starting to roll unconsciously.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I didn’t sleep last night.”

  “Oh god, you must be dying.”

  I tried to nod, but my head was too heavy. I needed sleep. I needed it now.

  “Come on, why don’t you sit down for a few minutes? You should get some food too; it will help.”

  I floundered, not knowing which direction to go. Sit or get food?

  My confusion must have been evident. “You sit. I’ll get you stuff.”

  I sat at an empty table, and Ruby joined me a few moments later with a tray loaded with a sandwich, fruit juice, and an apple.

  “The fruit should help. The natural sugars aren’t quite as strong as the artificial ones most of us are used to, but I found during my pregnancy that it did help to give me a boost when I needed it.”

  I sipped the juice and began to examine the sandwich. I really wish I wasn’t such a picky eater. She had been so sweet to get me food.

  “It’s turkey. It’s all they had left. I didn’t know what you’d like on it, so I left it plain.”

  “Thanks.” Whew, no mustard.