by Amy Joy
I smiled. “Oh, good. So no more shots then, right?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say that.”
“Are you serious?”
“I’m sorry, but it’s policy.” She turned and I watched as she pulled out a syringe, sprayed a bit of fluid to remove the air bubbles, and headed my way. “Sleeve up, please.”
I pulled up the sleeve on my left arm—the opposite side from where I’d been given my last shot. “All this just to visit my parents, huh? I think I’m happy they can’t visit very often.”
She smiled and plunged the needle into my upper arm.
Darkness followed.
I woke up to my stomach rumbling.
“What time is it?” I asked when Nurse Apple appeared in the room.
“A little after one.”
“Really? That means that I missed lunch. Now what do I do? I’m starving.”
“We can stop by the cafeteria and get you a sandwich on the way to your next class.”
I stretched and fussed with my hair and uniform again. Looking down, I noticed that The Academy emblem on my shirt appeared fully attached again. The bandage on my left hand was gone too. I shook my head. I must be losing it.
I noticed then that I was back in the same white-walled room where my journey began. “Hey, why do you guys keep moving me around each time I pass out?”
Nurse Apple fussed with the cabinets again, making me uncomfortable. “We have limited space and need the room for other students.”
“But why don’t you just put them in the other room?”
She shook her head. “Don’t question our policies and procedures, Miss Thompson.”
I was getting used to this response.
I jumped off the table and Nurse Apple stopped her fussing to lead me back to the routine of everyday life at The Academie.
Stopping at the cafeteria kitchen, she poked in ahead of me to explain why I needed to be permitted a late lunch. Then she ushered me in, and I saw the four lunch ladies I’d become familiar with hard at work on tonight’s supper. Lasagna. Yuck!
Large, manly-looking lunch lady Jane went to the fridge and pulled a sac from a stack of slightly smashed peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Yum…
“Thanks,” I said unenthusiastically as I took the sandwich. It might be gross, but it would stop my stomach from growling.
“There’s cartons of juice by the door,” Jane said.
I looked back to see stacks of dirty milk crates full of juice containers. Eww. I really didn’t need to know about the unsanitary conditions with which my food was brought to me each day.
The bell rang signaling the change of classes, just as Nurse Apple and I stepped back into the hall. “Which period are we on?” I asked as students began to funnel out of classrooms.
“Sixth.”
“Okay, I can find my way from here.”
“Just tell your instructor you had a parental visit, and they’ll let you eat your lunch in class.”
“Alright; thanks.”
She disappeared down the hall.
Instead of heading to Earth Science, I headed for the front door.
I was still too angry to stay trapped inside. I needed space—alone—where I could sort things out. But that’s the thing about The Academie: there’s no place where you can go and be alone. That’s how they wanted it.
I missed the spot outside I used to retreat to before Cayden followed me. Now I needed that place more than ever.
Exiting the school, and with no particular plan in mind, I turned right and proceeded around the perimeter, just inside the bushes. I hoped that as I walked, the perfect place to be alone might become evident.
I reached the back corner of the schoolyard, a place I had passed only once before in my time here—on the day Cayden found me and we walked back by the strange school addition. The mystery of that place didn’t concern me now. All that was on my mind was finding a place to hide away from the world, to sort out the crazy mess of thoughts filling my head.
I kept my walk close to the bushes, hoping to find a place to nestle myself among the green fronds the way birds do.
That’s when I noticed something strange with the fence. A gap.
It happened in such a way that it might not have been noticeable from any other angle. The pieces overlapped perfectly, but there it was, a space where two pieces of fence didn’t meet up. Instead, for whatever reason, one piece was laid about eight inches or so behind the other. It wasn’t much space. Cayden, for example, would never fit through.
But I might.
I glanced around the schoolyard and up at the windows to see if anyone was watching. Maybe it’s a trick?
The place was a ghost town. Not another person—student or staff—to be seen. Thank goodness for classes, I thought for the first time, possibly ever.
How could this be possible?
I stood there, looking at the fence, the gap, and the world that lay outside, afraid to move. For better or for worse, The Academie had become my home, and beyond this, I knew that I was forbidden to leave school property. I never used to be a rule breaker.
How much time did I have left until the next period was over? How many more seconds before someone decided to look out a window and this chance would be stolen from me forever?
I gathered up my courage and determined to go through.
After one last look around, I slid my left foot through the opening and turned my head to the side to push my body through.
The poles were tight—much tighter than I liked, but I kept my face tucked above my right shoulder, and my arms down.
And I pulled myself to the other side.
34. reality check
There I was, standing where I feared I might never be again: outside The Academie.
I was free, and I was afraid.
Instinct told me to get out of sight of the school as quickly as possible, so I took off running. Luckily, the months of intense physical training in Basic Fitness paid off, as I found I could run faster and farther than I thought I could. Or maybe it was the exhilaration of being free that now propelled me forward.
What would I do now? Run away? Get as far as I could?
I didn’t have any money. Where could I go without money?
Home? Yeah right. That’s the last place I wanted to be now.
If only I could get to Bryan’s parents’ house. But what could they do? Would they really want to take in a fugitive?
Nowhere to go.
Suddenly, I didn’t feel so free after all.
I’d run far enough into the neighborhood that bordered The Academie that I slowed my pace to a fast walk. It’d be better if I acted like I was supposed to be there so I didn’t draw attention to myself. The last thing I needed was someone reporting me.
I was still holding the sandwich from lunch-lady Jane, and I glanced at it now as I walked. Instead of PB&J, “BMP” was written in black Sharpie across the back of the bag. Baloney, mustard, pickles. Sick!
I kept walking, not sure what I was going to do now that I had nothing to eat for lunch. I’d never been in this neighborhood before. I lived just far enough away that I’d never walked home from school, but I knew that if I kept heading in the same direction—away from The Academie—that I’d reach the main part of town shortly. So I continued through the winding streets toward the sound of city traffic.
As I exited the subdivision, I found myself on Main Street. Across from me was Michael’s Pizza, Common Grounds—a coffee shop, and a small Mexican restaurant I’d still never been to. Behind that were the local pharmacy and grocery store.
The smell pizza wafted my way as a delivery man exited the shop, pizza in hand. My stomach growled. Michael’s was my all-time favorite pizza. What I wouldn’t give for a piece right now.
For a brief moment, I contemplated going in and asking for a job, but what were the chances they’d start me today? Then where would I sleep tonight? And they’d ask to see my Academie papers—proof of my graduation fro
m the system—which of course, I couldn’t produce.
I decided against the pizza and made my way across the street to the coffee shop. It was the kind of place I knew I could hang out, even if I didn’t buy anything.
“Welcome to Common Grounds. Can I help you?”
I wasn’t prepared for the chipper young blonde woman behind the counter who greeted me as I walked in the door. “Uh, can I just have some water, please?”
“Sure.” She flashed a bright red smile before grabbing a cup and heading for the faucet.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem. Let me know if you need anything else.”
I found a seat along the window. After being trapped in the same space for the past several months, it was nice to have a different view. Across from me, an old woman with a walker parked beside her was talking to a much younger woman. By the appearance of the second woman, I was guessing she was the caregiver.
“Mrs. Norbert, if you remembered to take your medicine every morning, you wouldn’t have this problem.”
“Ah!” the old woman said, scrunching her face and waving an arm in disgust. “The pills don’t make me feel better. I can’t remember anything when I take them.”
“The pills help your confusion.”
“No! They steal my memories!” She was obviously frustrated. Collecting herself, she continued. “Today I feel alive again. I can remember so much more.” The old woman’s eyes were tired, watery. She looked at the younger woman. “This morning, I remembered the time Bud—my husband—took the car out while I was at the dress shop.”
The caregiver sighed but didn’t interrupt.
“He said he’d wait in the car. He wasn’t allowed to drive anymore, you know, because of his condition. He hadn’t even asked to drive in years. So I didn’t think anything of him staying the car. Everyone knows men hate dress shops.”
The caregiver smiled.
“Anyway, I couldn’t have been in there twenty minutes. But when I came out, the car was gone! I had to call the police; what could I do?”
Still smiling, the caregiver shook her head and shrugged her shoulders.
“Do you know where they found him, Nancy?”
Nancy shook her head. “The candy store! Can you believe it? The candy store! All because I wouldn’t let him have any candy, he said.”
Nancy laughed, a big belly laugh, and I could see that she was really enjoying her company now.
“Oh, was I mad!” She hit the table for emphasis. “I fumed the whole way home. But he just sat there, eating his candy.” She paused. Then her expression changed. “It seems funny now, but I wish I’d let him have more candy.” Her watery eyes grew wetter, and she looked away.
Nancy said nothing, but she laid a gentle hand on the old women’s arm.
My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a child screaming on the other side of me.
“I don’t want it!”
“Johnny, you have to eat it. This is what we have. We’re not made of money!” The frazzled, young mother ran her fingers through her hair. Under her breath, I heard her say, “We can’t even pay the rent…”
Next to her stood a man I’d guess was in his late twenties, though his face was creased with worry lines beyond his years. As the kid continued to holler, the man got up, walked to the counter, and returned a moment later with a box. “We’ll take it home. Come on, drink your juice,” he said to the boy.
The child’s crying slowed to a whimper as he picked up the cup and slid the straw into his mouth. As he drank, I watched silent tears run down his face. I tried to smile, hoping to cheer him, but his gaze quickly shifted back to his dad, and the silent tears continued to fall.
Somewhere in the back, someone dropped a tray of dishes.
I turned back to the window. Cars sped by on their way to who knows where. People frowned from within them.
When I slid through the fence, I imagined anywhere was better than The Academie. Now I wasn’t so sure.
I pulled out my BMP sandwich, grabbed a napkin out of the table dispenser, and scraped off the mustard and pickle. I knew I’d still be able to taste the remnants of their flavors. That’s the way life is sometimes: you can fix things up, but you can’t make them all better.
I didn’t run away that day. Instead, I did what I’d never thought I’d do: I went back. I did it reluctantly, but the reality of the cold, hard pavement to sleep on—or worse—a jail cell, didn’t sound better, so I walked back and slid between the fences when it appeared no one was looking.
I thought they’d know I’d been gone. I figured they must have cameras around or some other way to figure out that someone had breached their security. But no one was there to greet me at the door when I returned, and catching a glimpse at the clock, I was able to make it to the locker room just in time for Basic Fitness.
It wasn’t until dinnertime that I ran into trouble.
“Miss Thompson.” The voice came from behind me, but I recognized it immediately. Sergeant Murk. “You didn’t report to sixth or seventh period this afternoon.”
I didn’t reply.
“Where were you?”
“Around,” I shrugged.
“Well dear, here you do not pick and choose which classes you will attend. Here you will attend whether you like it or not.”
I kept my mouth shut.
“So that you will not forget this in the future, you will have the privilege of cleaning your dorm bathroom this evening.” Her smile was hideous.
I tried to remain perfectly still. Why give her the satisfaction of knowing she was getting to me?
“Perhaps in the future, you will choose to be a respected member of our academic community, like your brother. Amazing that you come from the same family.”
She turned and left, and I restrained a scream. If I had to hear one more thing about what a model student Matt was, I thought I might just lose it.
“What’s all that about?” Ruby asked when I reached our table in the cafeteria. Murk had cornered me near enough to my friends to make me a spectacle.
I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Nothing. I had a surprise visit from my parents today.” My friends around the table started to look excited, so I continued before they could cut in. “I learned that my grandma died—a month ago. And while my parents came to visit my brother weeks ago to share the news, they chose not to offer me the same courtesy. Of course, being the model citizen Matt is, he too neglected to tell me. I suppose he never found the right opportunity, given the fact that I only see him once a day in class!”
“Oh…Allie, I’m so sorry,” Ruby said.
“That boy is cold. I say you sit him down and—”
“She chucked Dodge Balls at him,” Ruby said, interrupting Tina. “You’d think he’d get the hint.”
Cayden put his arm gently around my shoulders.
I wish he were Bryan.
“So, where’d you go?” Robert said.
“Nowhere really. I just needed space outside of class to think.”
That night, cleaning the girl’s bathroom was gross, but it seemed a small price to pay for what I’d gained that day.
35. mass delusions
“You knew grandma died and you didn’t tell me?” I grabbed Matt by the back of the shirt after English class, forcing him to turn and face me.
“Oh good, they told you.” He seemed oddly at ease.
“Why didn’t you?”
“I don’t know.” He faltered. “What good would it have done if I had? You couldn’t do anything, and it would have interfered with your studies.”
“So what? I have a right to know!”
“It doesn’t change anything, Allie. Whether you find out now or three years from now, she’s still going to be dead. Since you can’t see her anyway, wouldn’t it be nicer to believe that she’s still out there somewhere?”
I stood, shocked. Was this his logic? Was he trying to protect me? “I don’t understand you anymore, Matt. We used to be close. No
w I don’t even know how to talk to you.”
“I’m just focused, Allie, and you should be too.”
“Focused on what? This place is a nightmare. All I think about is getting out of here.”
“Well, maybe that’s your problem.”
“What? Who said I have a problem?”
“I’ve been told that you have been resistant to the program.”
“Who told you that?”
“I also heard you were found in off-limits areas.”
“Who’s telling you this shit? What business is it of yours?”
“They want me to help keep you in line.”
“They?”
“But I told them no. I can’t control you any better than mom or dad ever have.”
“What the hell are you talking about? You are my younger brother! What do you know about anything?”
“I know that you are causing trouble, and they don’t like it.”
“I haven’t done anything. And you can stay out of it. It’s none of your business. As far as I’m concerned, you’re not anything to me anymore.”
I turned and stormed out the door.
For the next few weeks, we didn’t even look at each other. He’d get to class early, sit down in the front, and I’d sit in the back. Then he’d stay after class to talk to Sergeant Roke, giving me the opportunity to slip out the back.
It was a perfect arrangement.
Except it felt all wrong.
In April it rained a lot, as April’s tend to do, but the world was filled with flowers now—both on the Academie grounds and in the neighborhoods I could see through the fence. This helped me feel happier in general.
But that’s when things got really weird.
I was sleeping the first time it happened: his voice came to me. It was Bryan calling out, searching for me.
I woke with a start. The voice was gone.
The second time I heard it, I was in Math class. Sergeant Prattle was doing her thing, rambling on—something about linear equations, and there it was out of nowhere.