Orientation Week

by Ruby Vincent

  “...introduce myself,” the speaker continued. “I am your vice principal, Mrs. Argyle. Tonight, at the opening dinner, your principal and members of staff hope to get to know you in a more casual setting, but for now, we will introduce ourselves and then we’ll get into what will be expected of you beginning September first.”

  Argyle stepped back and, one by one, the people in the chairs walked up to the podium and stated their names and gave quick intros. It wasn’t more than two sentences to say their positions and that they were looking forward to the coming year. That was until the guy in the last seat stood and strolled across the stage.

  He was tall. He had at least a foot on Argyle and she was no shorty. He was also handsome with a full head of salt-and-pepper hair and glasses that were trendier than the ones you caught on men his age.

  He didn’t speak at first, and the silence spread as his blinding smile was leveled at everyone in the room. “Hello, gentlemen,” he finally began. “I am Principal Whittaker and looking at all of you, I have no doubt we are heading into an astounding year. I see the intelligence in your eyes and the talent in your blood. Use it!”

  I jerked when his fist smacked the podium, ringing through the speakers. A snort to my right told me I was being laughed at.

  “Use it to bring this school and yourselves to even greater heights. You have a unique opportunity that no other student in the country— No. That no one in the world has. Breakbattle was born under the revolutionary idea that there is no such thing as ‘standard’ education.” Whittaker’s eyes were shining like headlamps and it wasn’t because of the harsh lighting.

  “Why would there be when there is no such thing as standard people. We are all different. We have different skills, different capabilities, and when we enter adulthood, we will have to use those abilities to fight for everything we have or hope to get. An education that does not prepare you for that battle is a failed one.

  “At Breakbattle, you will receive that preparation and some of you will go on to join the prominent alumni that are honored in our halls... and some of you won’t.”

  I blinked. Wait? What did he just say?

  “How far you will go in Breakbattle is dependent on the same factor that determines how far you will go in life: you. So never rest, never give up, and never stop fighting, because this is a climb you must make on your own.”

  He paused, smile dimming as he grew serious. His eyes swept through the room and I could have sworn they landed on me—searching, assessing, and measuring before moving on.

  “Thank you, gentlemen,” he finished. “I know you won’t let me down.”

  “Well said, Principal Whittaker.” Argyle clapped enthusiastically as she retook her place. The boys joined in, but my hands remained in my lap. The fervor in his eyes told me louder than words how serious this place was. What did I get myself into?

  “Alright, everyone,” Argyle continued. “Let’s speak more about what will happen this week.”

  I chanced a look down the row while she was talking. All of the guys were paying rapt attention to the stage, but my fidgeting made the guy next to me break away and meet my eyes. Mine widened as brown met green. I swallowed hard as he gave me a slight smile and a nod before looking away.

  Goodness, is everyone here gorgeous?

  “As I hope you know, this week is not about determining acceptance,” Mrs. Argyle said as I tuned back in. “You have all been accepted into Breakbattle and you will attend in the fall. No, this week is solely about determining your placement and which class is the best fit for your talents and abilities.”

  I leaned back in my seat. She suddenly had my full attention as well.

  “Here in Breakbattle, we don’t believe in a one-size-fits-all approach. This will not be your reality when you move on to college and your careers, and if it is our job to prepare you for that, we must do so by structuring your lessons to your needs.

  “Each grade is split into six classes. There is the F Class, D Class, C Class, B Class, A Class, and finally, the Elite Class. Which class you will end up in will be decided based on how you perform over the coming week and on the placement test that will be taken on your last day.

  “It should come as no surprise that each class is different from the other—as are the privileges that go with them. Hard work reaps benefits, and at Breakbattle, we reward that dedication by giving you those benefits.

  “As for the battle system,” she continued, “I will not go into detail about that at this time. Battles are not to be held during orientation week. When school starts in the fall, you will be taught everything you need to know about the system and its rules, but this week, we need you focused on getting into the classes that are appropriate for you.”

  I let Argyle’s speech wash over me as I sank into my seat. I had heard bits and pieces of the battle system from Mom and Jordan, but I was hoping to find out the full extent of what I was in for.

  Maybe there is a reason they won’t tell us during orientation. It gives us too much time to beat it out of here for another school before we’re officially enrolled.

  But I’m not going anywhere, a voice reminded me. This is where I need to be.

  The vice principal went over the schedule for the week and gave us the rundown of the rules. I was listening with half an ear until Argyle stepped around the podium.

  “You have been split into five groups and each group has two team leaders. You are in for a treat because for this orientation, the rising sophomore Elite Class have volunteered to be your leaders.” Even from halfway down the auditorium, I spotted Argyle’s chest puff with pride. “Boys, if you will please stand and come onto the stage.”

  All over the room, random guys got to their feet and made their way up the stage. I blinked when I realized two of them were familiar.

  Gorgeous and Bored Guy led the pack as the ten of them lined up before the room.

  “The Elite Class is capped at no more than ten students,” said Argyle. “These are the boys that placed in the top percentile and continue to show their excellence in all that they do.” The pride wasn’t just puffing her chest. It laced her every word. “To be in the Elite Class is not an honor given to you, it is one you must strive for and earn on your own merit. Think of that as you go through this week and let it drive you. Now, let me introduce your leaders so we can officially begin the day.”

  I passed over their faces as she announced the boys. Varying heights, shapes, ethnicities, and looks, but all of them had one thing in common. Each of their perfectly pressed uniforms had a large patch on the breast. It was the crest of the school and in the middle was a large E.

  Argyle placed her hand on Bored Guy’s shoulder. Now that his face wasn’t stuck to his phone, I could see he kept with the tradition of the school and was more handsome than a guy should be. Jet-black locks framed his face, curling at the ends in the cutest way. He was no small guy. Broad shoulders made his blazer stretch to the seams and Argyle had to lift her hand over her head to reach them.

  “This is Santiago Holland,” she said. “Santiago achieved the highest math score in Breakbattle history on the placement test, and in the year since he has been here, he has led the math team to two victories in the Archimedean state and regional competitions.”

  Despite the praise she was heaping on him, Santiago’s striking amber eyes held nothing but disinterest. She patted his arm before moving to the final boy in the row.

  “Cameron Dupre holds the highest grade point average in the rising sophomore class and is captain of our champion basketball team. The youngest captain in Breakbattle history.”

  Cameron inclined his head, smiling that perfect smile.

  Argyle stepped to his side and gestured down the row of boys. “They have graciously given up part of their summer to volunteer, so take advantage by learning all that you can from them. Principal Whittaker was right; this will be a great year.”

  The auditorium broke into applause once more, signaling the end of the
opening ceremony. It was the first day, so according to the schedule, all we had to do was unpack in our rooms, go on a campus tour, and then the real fun happened at the opening feast when we were allowed to mingle and get to know each other.

  I rose from my seat along with everyone else and shuffled toward the luggage. Someone tapped me on the back as I bent for my duffle. Peering through my hair, I laid eyes on the guy I was sitting next to.

  “Hey,” he said. His lips curled into a grin that brought a dimple to his cheeks. “I think we’re in the same group.”

  “Yeah. Nice to meet you.” I straightened and stuck out my hand. “I’m Zeke Manning.”

  “Manning?” he asked as he shook. “We might be roommates. What’s your badge say?”

  “My badge?”

  He pointed. “On the back.”

  Glancing down, I flipped over my nametag and saw “Floor Five, Rm 561.” I showed it to him.

  His grin got even wider. “Sweet, we are roommates. I’m Adam Moon. It looks like it’s me and you this week.”

  I relaxed under his friendliness. “Sounds good to me, Adam.”

  “Group 3G! Hustle up!”

  Adam dropped my hand at the shout and hurried to get his stuff. It took me only a second to find Cameron and Santiago over the heads of the crowd, waiting for my group.

  Adam and I pushed through and planted ourselves in front of the guys. When everyone was there, Cameron spoke.

  “So you heard Argyle,” he announced. “You’ll have an hour to unpack and then you’ll meet me and Santi outside the dorms for a tour of campus. Afterward, we’ll bring you to the cafeteria where your family will be waiting. Eat, say your goodbyes, and then”—Cameron cut eyes to Santiago who suddenly had the same grin on his face as him—“get ready for the week of your life.”

  My brows snapped together. Was it me, or was there something behind those smiles?

  I glanced around at the other boys, but everyone else appeared relaxed or excited.

  You’re imagining things, Zela. You’re just on edge because if any one of these guys finds you out, it’s all over. Remember why you’re here.

  The internal pep talk steadied me. Everything was fine. All that mattered is what I came here for.

  “Let’s go.”

  Cameron and Santiago led the way out of the room and we followed behind like little ducklings.

  “The building is shaped like an unused staple,” Cameron called over his shoulder. “The boys get the left wing. The girls in the right wing. The administration office and cafeteria in the middle. You shouldn’t get lost, but there are maps in your welcome packets if you need them. Any questions?”

  Someone knocked my shoulder as they moved up front. The guy sported thick glasses and wore eagerness as plain as his woolen coat. “Cameron, are you really the top of the Elite Class? How did you do it?”

  Cameron didn’t slow his stride. “By being better than everyone else.”

  My eyebrows shot up to my fake hairline. Was this guy for real?

  A boy piped up from behind me. “I heard the math placement test gets harder as you go. All the way to graduate-level mathematics. And, Santiago, you got the highest math score in Breakbattle history?”

  Santiago grunted by way of response.

  “Does this guy speak?” The question slipped out under my breath before I could think about it.

  “He does, but not to say anything interesting.”

  My head whipped around in surprise, catching Adam’s grin.

  “Cameron,” someone said. “What’s it like being in the Elite Class?”

  Adam grabbed my arm. “Come on. Let’s hang back while the others fall all over them.”

  We stopped and let the group on ahead, bringing up the back.

  I smiled at Adam. “I take it you know them.”

  “Cam and Santi, yeah. We went to Evergreen Middle School together, but they were a year ahead. I know most of the guys here. A lot of them are from my town.”

  “That must be nice. I don’t know anyone here,” I replied as I looked around. Now that I wasn’t rushing about like a headless chicken, I could take in the space. Large windows had been cracked open to let in the fresh summer air and they looked down on to a grassy area and the tour group assembled outside. I knew Mom, Jordan, and Aunt Bev were in there somewhere.

  “It’s cool, I guess,” said Adam. “This is the only decent boarding school that people in my town will send their kids to, so most of my friends are here.”

  I turned my head and gave Adam a proper look. His head was a mop of soft brown curls that he flicked out of his eye every five seconds. They just fell right back, which was a shame because his eyes were a striking emerald green. It was hard to choose between staring at those eyes or at his charming smile. A smile that hadn’t left his face since I met him.

  “Your friends must have filled you in, then,” I said, “on what it’s like here.”

  “They did. So did my parents. Anything you want to know, I’m happy to share.”

  “I’m so very glad I met you, Adam Moon.”

  He laughed. “Alright, man. It’s cool to meet you too.”

  I winced internally. His reaction said I was getting a little too excited at making a new friend. I needed to tone it down—be more boy.

  Be more boy. Be more boy.

  I peeked at Adam again, studying his loping stride. I straightened my back and tried to mimic his walk.

  Be more boy. Be chill. Chin up. Hunch my shoulders a bit. Wider steps.

  After a few tries, I had it down. Perfect. I look just like—

  “Dude, you okay?”

  I jerked. “What?”

  Adam looked me up and down. “You’re walking like you need to take a shit.” He pointed over his shoulder. “We just passed the bathrooms. I’ll wait while you go.”

  Face flaming, I quickly fixed myself. “I’m fine,” I mumbled. “So you said you’d tell me about the school.”

  “For sure. What do you want to know?”

  I turned toward the windows again. Cameron said the wing I was gazing at was for the girls.

  “What do you think about the girls being on the other side?”

  “Mom and Dads hated it,” he replied. “The only times the guys and girls mix are during breakfast and dinner. Otherwise, they might as well be in a different school. I don’t like it either.”

  I turned in time to see a strange expression cross his face. It was gone the moment he caught me looking, and the genial smile returned.

  “Okay, guys, the dorms are through here.”

  I looked up at Cameron’s voice. The group had gotten ahead of us and gathered in front of double doors that led to a separate part of the building.

  “The code to get in is 1349,” he said. “Your room assignments are on the nametags. Like I said, you have one hour to unpack and chill and then meet us right here so we can show you around.”

  Santiago typed in the code and then both boys held open the doors for us to stream in. I followed behind, but as I passed Santiago, a thought occurred to me. I paused in front of him.

  “Will we get to learn more about the clubs and teams this week?”

  His eyes flicked down at me. He looked for a second like he couldn’t understand why I was talking to him. After a minute, he nodded.

  “Great because I really want to join the math club Vice Principal Argyle was talking about. Can you tell me more about it later?”

  A laugh behind me drew my attention. Cameron threw me that knee-wobbling smile when I turned to face him. “That club is for Class Bs and up. It’s best to get through O-Week first to see if it’s even worth the conversation.”

  I frowned but shrugged all the same. “Fine. Later, then.” I kept going and found Adam waiting for me before the staircase. The rest of the guys had either continued on to the rooms on the first floor or were tromping up to the ones above. Together we made the trek up to the fifth.

  “We’re lucky,” Adam said when we t
opped the third-floor landing.

  “We are?” I huffed. My shoulder was already aching from carrying the duffle bag. “How?”

  “The fifth floor has the A Class dorms. Those are the second-best rooms in the school.”

  I perked up. That did sound nice.

  We made it up the rest of the way and then pushed through a single door into a wide hallway. The décor was much the same as the rest of the school. White paneled walls and checkered floors. We weaved through the other boys and found our room.

  I made it two steps inside before shock pinned me to the carpet. If this was second best, then seeing the best might have knocked me out cold.

  The room was huge. Big enough to accommodate two desks, two bookshelves, a sitting area with two loveseats, a flat screen, two wardrobes, and two queen-sized four-poster beds.

  A light flicked on and I turned as Adam walked into the bathroom. I spotted the frosted glass of the shower before he closed the door.

  We have a bathroom? This is perfect. If I get into A Class, I won’t have to worry about the locker room or my roommate finding me out. I’ll just run back here to change and do what I need to do.

  I walked further inside, still taking everything in. I wonder what the other dorms are like.

  I put my bag down and sat on the loveseat, getting comfortable. I could get used to this.

  “Hey,” Adam called when he came out of the bathroom. “Do you mind if I take the bed by the window?”

  “It’s all yours.” I pulled my feet onto the loveseat and curled them under me. “So what do I have to do to make sure I’m in this dorm in the fall?”

  His chuckle reached my ears. “The same thing we’re all trying to do. Kick ass in the trials and then nail the placement test.” I heard his footsteps as he came to join me. Adam sat in the other loveseat, legs splayed out in front of him. One look at him and I put my feet back down on the carpet.

  Be more boy, Zeke!

  “Most of the guys from my middle school got their class picked out too,” he went on. “Everyone is hoping for B or higher, but some of them aren’t settling for less than the Elite Class.”

  “What do they have to do to get in? What do we all have to do? What are the trials?”