“All you can do is your best,” Finley shrugged.
Will grinned back at him gratefully. Finley’s words may not have provided Will with much reassurance, but it was a great comfort see him slowly returning to his normal self, having struggled so bitterly with the attention they had received at the start of term. Thankfully, Will’s fellow students seemed to be forgetting all about the “Famous Four” and the events of the previous year, distracted by the day-to-day routine which had resumed at the Academy.
Before Will could discuss the upcoming try-outs any further, he was interrupted by Emily’s brother, Charlie, who approached the table with confidence, sitting between Finley and Lois and skipping all formalities as he launched straight into conversation.
“Have you heard about the new feature on the Student Planner?” he asked enthusiastically, barely pausing for a response as he continued to explain. “The Tech Club has designed a new update which allows you to message anyone within the school. As long as they’re a registered student, you can send them something, even if you don’t have their contact details. How brilliant is that?”
“That’s great, Charlie,” Emily replied sarcastically. “Nice to see you, by the way.”
“I’ve been sending that May Parsons anonymous messages all morning,” Charlie snickered, ignoring Emily and gesturing into the corner where May, a former Prefect, was sitting amongst the other dormitory wardens, having joined their ranks after her graduation.
“She has no idea who’s sending them,” he grinned. “Watch this.”
He began tapping furiously on his Planner, suppressing a fit of laughter as he hit the ‘send’ button, before swivelling his body around so that he could witness May’s reaction. Her Planner beeped on cue, echoing noisily across the crowded Dining Hall. Will watched with interest as she picked the device up and began to read the message, her face turning beetroot from embarrassment as she leapt from her seat, frantically checking her skirt, as she smoothed it down and looked around to make sure nobody had seen.
“What did you say to her?” Will asked, a bemused smile on his face.
“I told her that her skirt was tucked into her tights,” Charlie replied with hilarity, stifling his laugh as his eyes sparkled with delight.
“That’s really immature, Charlie” Emily sighed. “You’re in fourth year now. I thought this kind of behaviour was beneath you.”
“Don’t blame me!” Charlie replied defensively. “Blame whoever designed the ‘anonymous’ feature. I mean, what else was it going to be used for?”
“I can think of a few people I’d like to send an anonymous message to,” Will said darkly, glancing in the direction of the Floor One clique who were sitting at a nearby table, talking at an obnoxiously loud volume.
“And now you can!” Charlie beamed. “You can thank me later for sharing the news with you. I don’t know how you four manage to get around this place without knowing a single thing that’s going on.”
“Well, we did work out that the Headmaster was alien, Charlie…” Emily reminded him. “Not even you can say you saw that one coming.”
“I had my suspicions,” Charlie shrugged. “There isn’t much that happens here that I don’t know about. The key is to talk to everyone, and the information will find you.”
“If you say so” Emily sighed, rolling her eyes to the Heavens.
“Well, I’m off,” Charlie announced, leaping from the table as abruptly as he had joined it. “Good luck at the Rocket Racing try-outs tonight, Will,” he added as he walked away, leaving Will utterly perplexed as to how he knew that he’d be attending.
“He really does know everything,” Will marvelled.
“Don’t let him get inside your head,” Emily scolded him. “He probably just sits around and eavesdrops on everyone”
“We’d better get to class,” Finley suddenly proclaimed, glancing at the time on his Personal Device. “Even Mr. Mayhem’s getting strict about people turning up on time.”
The four of them stood up in unison, making their way through the Reception Hall and into the lift, riding up to the Technology Lab and arriving with only minutes to spare. Mr. Mayhem seemed more stressed than usual, his students finding him pacing the floor upon their arrival, seemingly unaware of their presence. After a few minutes of muttering to himself, he jumped, acknowledging the room full of expectant faces for the first time, and dashing over to retrieve the deactivated robot that they had been dissecting since the start of term. Opening its mechanical chest, he retrieved the central circuit that served as the A.I’s equivalent of a heart and began explaining in great detail the complexities of its inner mechanisms.
The students in Galileo class found their seats and began typing notes on their tablets as fast as they could, desperately trying to keep up with the rapid flurry of facts Mr. Mayhem was spewing at them. Despite the urgency of his teacher’s lecture, Will struggled to keep his attention focused on the task at hand, finding his mind wandering on several occasions to the thought of the Launch Bay and the trials that would take place there that evening. At one point, he found himself zoning out for so long that he completely missed a huge portion of Mr. Mayhem’s speech, forcing him to look pleadingly at Madison Jacobs, who was sat beside him, in the hope that she would let him copy her notes. With a wry smile, she pushed her tablet ever so slightly in Will’s direction, so that he could read what she had written without attracting Mr. Mayhem’s attention. It was a practice they had used several times in the past, and Will was once again grateful that alphabetical order had left him sat next to someone who wasn’t bothered by his constant daydreaming and need for extra help.
The lesson passed in a flash, and before Will knew it, Mr. Mayhem was setting them a lengthy homework assignment to complete before the end of the week. Gathering his things together, Will slung his assortment of devices into the rucksack he had taken to carrying around since he had almost smashed the screen on his Student Planner at the beginning of the year. He followed Emily, Finley and Lois into the corridor, lazily strolling from the room as his idle brain struggled to recall which class he had to go to next. His sluggish reverie was broken, however, when Matina suddenly cornered him, bounding towards him with such an excitement that he stumbled backwards into the wall. Will tried his best to understand her incoherent babble, catching something about how great it was going to be to have a boyfriend in the Rocket Racing team, and how jealous Cara was going to be when she told her. Will smiled half-heartedly, immediately regretting telling her about the trials. Feeling dazed, he brushed her off with a rushed excuse about promising his mother a video call and hurried down the corridor as quickly as he could, certain her overenthusiasm would send him over the edge.
The rest of the day passed in a flash, with even the notoriously dull Civilisations lesson seeming to fly by much faster than usual. When dinner-time arrived, Will wolfed his chicken down in seconds, leaping from the table and racing up to his bedroom as fast as his legs could carry him. Standing in front of the mirror, he studied his reflection with great care, ensuring that the brand-new silver spacesuit his mum had sent him for the occasion fitted him the way it should. Once he was satisfied, he tucked the helmet under his arm, doing his best to steady his breathing as he adjusted the expression on his face to convey the illusion of courage.
Suppressing the uncomfortable giddiness in his stomach, he headed into the hallway and caught the lift down to the foyer, where he exited the dormitory, ignoring his fellow classmates, who were retiring to their bedrooms for the evening. Once he had reached the double-fronted doors, he stepped outside, his lungs filling with the cold, stale air that filtered through the Academy grounds as he began to tread the asphalt paths alone. He relished the rare occasion of solitude, grateful for the first time in his life to be absent from company as he mentally prepared himself for the challenge he would shortly face.
As he neared the main school building, Will was joined by a handful of other hopefuls, who would also be entering the trials that evening, a
nd was surprised to see Scott Holmes, a fellow member of Galileo class, amongst them. He walked in his direction, flashing him a weak smile and falling in step beside him as the two of them made their way inside, trying hard not to think about the dozens of spectators who would be waiting at the Launch Bay for the event to begin. As they strode through the Reception Hall, Will glanced around his person, an uneasy knot growing in his stomach at the sight of Spencer and Alasdair, clad head to toe in their own, golden spacesuits which were both adorned with elaborate embroideries of their initials. In all his time being friends with the pair, he had never known either of them to show any interest in Rocket Racing, and Will quickly became concerned that they might have a secret agenda to sabotage his chances of making the team. Stepping into the lift, he avoided meeting their eye, wary of the effects an altercation with the two of them would have on his flying performance. He huddled into the corner, keeping out of their way as he dispelled the thought of them from his mind, focussing instead on the prize at stake.
After a short ride to the uppermost floor of the building, Will and the other contenders arrived at the Launch Bay, entering into the large, steel hangar, which had been cleared of the selection of rockets that usually covered its floor in order to accommodate for the large number of spectators. Will immediately caught sight of Emily, Finley and Lois, clapping and cheering fervently along with the rest of the crowd. Also amongst the audience was Matina, who began jumping up and down on the spot with delight the moment that Will made his appearance. He gave a small nod of acknowledgement in her direction, before making his way to the front of the Launch Bay, where several personal-sized spacecrafts had been lined up in a procession. Beside the queue of small rockets was Rachel Shoestein-niece of the famous racer Symon Shoestein and Captain of the school’s Rocket Racing team. She smiled with encouragement at the nervous group of candidates before her, speaking into a small microphone so that the watching crowd could hear her, the excited buzz of noise falling immediately silent as everyone in the hangar listened to her every word intently.
“Welcome to Rocket Racing try-outs,” she announced. “Without further do, I would like to draw your attention to the obstacle course behind me, which has been set up especially for the event.”
She gestured through the large window that lined the back wall of Launch Bay, through which an elaborate track could be seen floating out in Space, special booster engines attached to the various obstacles to keep them hovering in place.
“Candidates will each take turns to complete this course, using the PR-11 rockets we have selected. Myself and the rest of the team will then rate their performances from 1-10, entering their marks into a joint database. The three hopefuls with the highest average score will be invited to join our team. Our first race takes place in only a few weeks’ time and will be held against our longest standing rivals at the German school, Weltraumschule. As you may know, Rocket Racing competitions between the schools are different from traditional racing events and involve competing in teams to navigate tracks similar to the one we have set out for the trials. The events can be brutal, with rival team members deliberately throwing each other off-course. Therefore, we will be looking at each contender’s level of control when completing the trial, as well as their speed.”
Will swallowed hard, his legs momentarily trembling as he scrutinised the floating track, planning his every move to ensure a successful navigation of the course. He didn't have much time to prepare, however, before Rachel spoke again, shaking her long, dark hair from her shoulders and commanding the crowd’s attention with her loud, booming voice.
"Please could Spencer Hullington from Newton class step forward. You will be our first candidate," she announced.
Will watched as Spencer walked on shaking legs to where Rachel stood next to the group of rockets. She gestured for him to climb inside the one nearest to her, and he followed her instructions promptly, gritting his teeth as he forced his face into an expression of determination.
"Commencing launch in three, two, one..."
Rachel counted down, and Spencer was flung into Space, his small rocket soaring through the stars like a shiny, blue bullet. Will watched enrapt as he sped across the course, performing each twist, turn and dodge with impressive accuracy. His nerves heightened when Spencer, who as far as he knew had no racing experience to speak of, completed the course in impressive time, returning to the Launch Bay to the sound of raucous applause.
Will continued to spectate as Alasdair and Scott completed their try-outs, followed by three girls from Hubble class that he had never seen before. Each of them performed better than the last, leaving Will crushed under an enormous pressure to exceed expectations when his turn finally arrived. When Rachel finally called his name, her voice sounded distant, as though she were waking him from a dream. Swallowing hard, he clambered into the polished, red rocket designated for his use, placing his hands on the steering wheel and exhaling as his heart slowed to a normal pace, his nerves soothed by the feel of cold metal against his skin. Steadying himself, he closed his eyes as he listened to Rachel count him down from three, the noise of the crowd slowly disappearing as he focused on her voice alone.
When the moment of his launch finally arrived, Will braced himself, pressing the small button on his control pad which caused the engines in the rocket to ignite. Surging forward, he carefully navigated his way through the large tunnel in front of him, the familiar exhilaration of flying serving as a tonic to his nerves. The moment he entered the star-covered sky, all thoughts of the trials faded from his mind, as sheer joy began to take over, his heart racing with delight as he paused to scrutinise the track before him. His confidence returning, he began to zip through the numerous obstacles with ease, dodging the cones and barriers that were suspended at differentiating heights. He sped through a large, metal hoop, expertly angling his wings to avoid hitting the edges and exiting at top speed, as he soared towards the next hurdle, tackling it with meticulous precision. As he approached the end of the course, he was overwhelmed by relief, allowing his mind to drift happily into daydreams of himself receiving a place on the Rocket Racing team. His vision blurred momentarily as he imagined himself accepting the huge, golden trophy that would be awarded to the winning team in the upcoming race, envisioning himself as the sole Racer responsible for the Academy’s victory. The momentary lapse in concentration caused his control over the rocket to slip, and his right-wing caught on the edge of a barrier as he turned the ship back towards the Launch Bay, misjudging the speed at which he was travelling.
His rocket was sent into a spin, tumbling sickeningly over itself as he plummeted off-course and into the void of Space. Feeling his consciousness begin to slip away, Will reacted quickly, pulling hard on the steering wheel and angling it the appropriate amount to the left in order to steady himself, his hands turning red with the force of holding it in place. After a brief moment of terror, the spacecraft returned to a normal speed, allowing Will to direct himself cautiously back towards the entrance to the Academy.
He flew slowly through the tunnel, his heart thudding heavily in his chest as tears of disappointment stung his eyes. Reaching the Launch Bay, he disembarked from his rocket and removed his helmet, concealing his devastation by fixing his face into the most normal expression he could muster. Keeping his eyes to the ground, he slunk his way over to Emily, Lois and Finley, ignoring the shocked silence that had fallen in the hangar around him. Determined not to see the smug look on Spencer and Alasdair’s faces, he bowed his head, blending into the crowd and wishing he could disappear. He nodded despondently at his friends, who converged around him in a huddle, re-assuring him in hushed voices that he would be able to try-out again the following year. Sweat began to form on his brow as he felt the gaze of every person in the room upon him, and he stared unwaveringly at Rachel, silently begging her to continue the trials and take the attention away from him. After a moment, she remembered herself, announcing the next contender in an overly-casual tone t
o compensate for her shock. The hum of chatter slowly began to rebuild amongst the spectators, leaving Will able to acknowledge the dull realisation that his dreams had slipped through his fingers, one, fleeting moment of carelessness destroying everything he had wished for since he was a little boy.
He stood statue-still as the remaining competitors took their turns, his feeble hopes of still making the team diminishing with each performance that didn’t end in a disaster. As he came to accept his disappointment, he found that there was something strangely liberating about his failure. In one fell swoop, he had put an end to the years of strife and struggle it would have taken him to become a professional Rocket Racer. He could have spent the remainder of his life trying and still never succeeded, the difficulties of chasing after a career that thousands of others wanted preventing him from ever achieving his goals. Admitting defeat, his mood lightened a fraction, and he found himself almost able to enjoy the elaborate display the Rocket Racing team had decided to put on whilst the results of their scoring were being calculated. He watched as they ducked and weaved their way through the inky black sky, plumes of multicoloured smoke emitting from the back end of their rockets as they flew in synchronised motion. Once the performance was over, the team returned to the Launch Bay, standing behind Rachel in perfect, linear formation. No sooner had they arrived than a member of the Tech Club had rushed forward, handing Rachel a tablet device containing the names of the highest scoring candidates. Picking up her discarded microphone she cleared her throat, the room quietening as she prepared her announcement.
"We are pleased to inform you that we will be inviting three new students to join our team, on the basis of their outstanding performances during the trials. The first successful candidate is Mr. Spencer Hullington of Newton class, who received an average score of 9.6."
There was a cheer as Spencer stepped forward, accepting his official racing stripes from Rachel and sticking them onto his spacesuit with pride. He proceeded to shake the hands of his new teammates, falling into place next to them and staring out at the crowd with triumph.
The Secret Society (The Mayfly Series Book 2) Page 10