The Academy

by Evangeline Anderson

  “No—no, of course not,” I said hastily. I squeezed his hand. “I…I like it,” I confessed shyly.

  North returned the pressure of my fingers. “Me too,” he murmured. A troubled look flitted across his face and was gone so quickly I wondered if I had imagined it. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll take you to my favorite place for lunch.”

  I thought later that it was the most perfect day I could remember. As promised, North took me all over the quaint, seaside town and we ate a succulent shellfish dish for lunch that was both tart and rich. Dinner was another of his mother’s homemade meals, a vegetarian dish so delicious I longed to ask for the recipe. But though she had insisted on teaching her sons to cook, I was afraid asking would make me look too feminine. I held my tongue and promised myself I’d ask North for it later.

  Just as we were finishing dessert, a sweet native fruit cooked in a flaky pastry shell, there was a clash of lightning and thunder outside and the lights abruptly went out.

  “Oh!” I gasped.

  North’s father cursed in the dark. “Damn storms! Coming up when you least expect them.”

  “It’s okay,” North murmured, finding my hand under the table. “It happens all the time.”

  I squeezed his hand tightly. “It does?”

  “Sure.” I could almost hear the smile in his voice. “Don’t worry, shorty, I won’t let the monsters get you.”

  I laughed weakly. “Very funny.” Not that I was afraid of the dark—it was just that I had never been through a sudden power outage before. The weather in Victoria was as staid and quiet as the society. In fact, some said there was no weather—just a perpetual state of calm.

  “Never mind,” North’s mother said comfortingly. I heard her bustling about in the darkened room and suddenly a small, warm glow sprang to life. I was surprised to see she was holding an old-fashioned candle with a real flame—something I had only seen in vids about Earth-that-was.

  “Mom always keeps blackout candles nearby,” North said, obviously seeing my surprised look. “You never can tell when a storm might blow up around here.”

  “A cold one too, I’ll bet. Just listen to that wind.” North’s mother shook her head at the howling whine picking up outside the windows. She frowned. “I’d better get you boys another quilt. Don’t want you to freeze tonight.”

  “Thanks, Mom but I can get one out of the linen closet,” North said. He squeezed my fingers under the table once more and then let go reluctantly. “Can we have a candle?”

  “Certainly.” She lit another long white taper from the first, fit it into a holder, and handed it to North. Then she lit another and handed it to me. “Just be careful with those and be sure you blow them out before you go to sleep.”

  North rolled his eyes. “Yes, Mom.”

  “All right.” She half sighed, half laughed. “I know you’re a grown man—or almost anyway—and I’ve been letting you have a candle in your room since you were ten. But I still have to say it.”

  “Of course you do.” North got up and kissed her cheek affectionately. “Night Dad,” he said to his father, who had gone back to his dessert.

  “Night, Son,” Mr. North murmured. The wind howled again and he shook his head. “It’s times like these I’m glad we built into the mountain instead of on top of it. It was a pain in the ass to do it but at least we don’t have to worry about being blown away.”

  “Well, that was my idea,” North’s mother said, sitting back down with a smile.

  “Was not,” Mr. North said indignantly. “Why, I distinctly remember…”

  North and I left his parents bickering good-naturedly and headed back up to his room. By mutual, unspoken consent we were going to bed early. Without the power, we couldn’t watch a vid or play any of his computer games. And besides, the long day had tired us both out.

  I went to the fresher to change and to my surprise, when I came back the temperature in North’s room seemed to have dropped ten degrees.

  “Brrr!” I complained as I slid into bed beside him and put my candle on the nightstand beside me. “Your mother was right—it’s getting really cold!”

  “Yeah, that’s the crazy weather we have around here.” North sounded completely unperturbed as he puffed out his candle and snuggled under the thick blue quilt he’d put on the bed. “And would you believe it’ll probably be warm enough to swim tomorrow?”

  “No, I wouldn’t.” I snuggled down beside him, wishing I could get closer to his warmth. His big, muscular body seemed to put out heat like an oven.

  “Yeah, but it will be. That’s what we say about the weather here on Apollo—if you don’t like it just wait a minute and it’ll change.” He nodded at the candle. “Hey, don’t forget to blow that out.”

  “Oh, right.” I sat up in bed just long enough to puff the candle out, then sank back down below the covers, my teeth chattering.

  “Hey, you’re really cold, aren’t you?” In the darkness, North’s voice sounded concerned.

  “I’ll warm up in a minute…I hope.” I burrowed deeper under the covers, trying to find some warmth.

  Suddenly I felt North’s hand on my arm. “Come here,” he said, pulling me to him.

  “What…what are you doing?” I asked breathlessly as he put an arm around me and pillowed my head on his chest.

  “Warming you up,” he said reasonably. “Don’t worry, Jameson. It’s not like I’m trying to cop a feel or anything.”

  “I didn’t think you were,” I protested stiffly. “I just thought…I wasn’t sure…”

  “Brothers, remember?” he reminded me, just as he had when he had taken my hand and entwined our fingers that afternoon.

  “Oh. Of course.” Slowly, I allowed myself to relax against him. I was glad the sleep shirt I had chosen to wear was thick—hopefully thick enough to hide the fact that my unbound breasts were pressing against his side. North didn’t make any comment, though, so I assumed I was safe.

  Being this close to him, having our bodies pressed together in such an intimate way, felt both incredibly taboo and utterly amazing. I could feel parts of myself I’d scarcely ever given thought to before tingling and coming to life. I inhaled deeply, enjoying North’s delicious, masculine scent, feeling the heat of his big body creep into mine, warming me from the inside out.

  Wrong, this is so wrong, whispered the part of my brain that still lingered in Victoria. If anyone ever found out…

  They’re not going to, I told myself quickly. No one ever needs to know besides North and me. It’s our secret. And besides, it’s not like we’re doing anything wrong. He’s just warming me up for a few minutes and then I’ll go back to my own side of the bed.

  “Kris?” North’s deep voice interrupted my thoughts.

  “Yes?” I looked up. The room was almost completely dark but there was a little light coming through the rain-spattered window. I could faintly see the gleam of his eyes as he looked at me.

  “I just…I wanted to tell you…no, needed to tell you…”

  He paused for so long that I had to ask, “What?”

  North gave a deep sigh which seemed to shake us both. “Nothing,” he said at last. “I just wanted to say that I had a really good time with you today.”

  “I had a good time too,” I said softly. “But, North…” I bit my lip. “Is that really what you wanted to say?” I didn’t know where I got the courage to ask him such a leading question—it just seemed to come out. My heart pounded unsteadily in my chest as I waited for his reply.

  He shifted, his broad chest moving under my cheek. “That’s all I can say. For now anyway.”

  “For now?” I echoed, thoroughly confused.

  “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “You still don’t know…”

  “Don’t know what?” I prompted again when he stopped.

  “Know me. The real me.” North sounded troubled. “And I can’t say…what I want to say until you do.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said. “What is it you
need me to know? And how can I know unless you tell me?”

  “Not tonight.” I heard the rustle as he shook his head against the pillow. “I will tell you, I promise. But not now. Today was too perfect to spoil.”

  I was itching with curiosity but I had to admit he was right. It had been the most wonderful, purely happy day I could ever remember. I didn’t want anything to ruin it.

  “All right,” I said at last. “But I don’t think you could tell me anything that would…would change my opinion of you, North.”

  “I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” he said darkly, and sighed again. Then he pulled me closer and seemed to make an effort to shake off his bad mood. “Let’s just relax and listen to the wind blow. I love the sound of a storm outside when I’m safe and warm inside with someone I…” He cleared his throat. “Someone I care about.”

  I felt my cheeks heating with a pleasurable blush. “I like it too. This is nice…cozy. And it’s nice to be able to be close…now that we’re sworn brothers,” I added hastily, not wanting him to misinterpret me.

  North shifted. “Uh, yeah. It is nice.” He cleared his throat. “Well…goodnight, Kris.” I took his words for a sign that I should go back to my own side of the bed. But when I started to move away, North held on to me. “Hey, where are you going?” he demanded. “Are you getting too warm?”

  “No, I’m still cold,” I admitted. “But I thought, I don’t know, that maybe you were tired of me. That you wanted me to move.”

  “Not tired of you, shorty.” He settled me more firmly against him and carded his fingers gently through my hair. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. We can sleep like this all night…if you want.”

  “That would be perfect,” I said. Gone was my guilt over sleeping in such an intimate position with a man I wasn’t even engaged to. Gone was my fear that someone from Victoria would find out about my indiscretions. All that was left was my pleasure in North’s touch, the feel of his body pressed against mine and the knowledge that he wanted me to stay with him, to touch him all night. “Perfect,” I repeated softly.

  “I think so too.” North sounded as though he might be smiling. Then he yawned. “Let’s get some sleep.”

  “All right.” Closing my eyes, I let myself relax. I could hear the angry howl of the storm outside but the deep, quiet drumming of North’s heartbeat drowned it out. Savoring the beautifully illicit feeling of being held in his arms, I at last drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  The rest of my stay seemed magical to me. North really seemed to enjoy showing me his home planet and I was happy just being in his company. Now that we were sworn brothers the invisible barrier that seemed to exist between us—between any two males, I supposed—was shattered. North held my hand often, though never in front of his parents, and I slept in his arms every night. There were no more storms but we no longer needed excuses. When we both slid beneath the covers, he reached for me and I nestled my head on his chest, perfectly content to be as close to him as I could without giving away my secret.

  In the mornings we greeted each other with increasingly lingering kisses. I was still only brave enough to kiss North on the cheek but once he turned his head too quickly and I found my lips pressed briefly to his. I drew away at once, blushing, but North didn’t seem to mind. He just smiled and kissed me back—a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth that sent my heart racing. We went for long walks on the silvery sands and often when we were tired, we would sit and North would pillow his head on my lap.

  The first time he did this, I wasn’t sure what to do. But his golden blond hair looked so soft and inviting, I couldn’t help carding my fingers through it. North seemed to enjoy my touch as much I liked touching him and soon it became a regular habit with us.

  North had said nothing else about his cryptic words the night of the storm and I didn’t press him about it though my curiosity still bothered me like an unscratched itch. It wasn’t until the last full day of Winter Break that he revisited our earlier conversation.

  We were sitting on the highest part of the beach watching the big swells come in and North had his head in my lap, as usual. Also, as usual, I was playing with his hair, combing my fingers through the thick, golden strands and enjoying the soft, deep sounds of pleasure he made when I touched him. It made me feel both powerful and beautiful to have the godlike North so willingly vulnerable in my hands.

  North shifted his head on my lap and smiled up at me as I stroked his hair. “Mmm…feels good.”

  “Does it?” Emboldened, I repeated the caress. I loved touching him and now that he was actively inviting me to do so, I couldn’t resist.

  “Mmm.” He sighed contentedly, his eyes closed as he basked in the sunlight. “I never thought I could feel this happy again, you know?”

  “You mean…after your brother…?” I let the sentence trail off. Though North mentioned Jamie often, he had yet to reveal the details of his death.

  “Yeah, after that.” North opened his eyes for a moment to look up at me. “Can I tell you something, Kris? Something I’ve never told anyone before?”

  My heart started pounding. “Yes. Yes, of course,” I somehow managed to say.

  “It’s about Jamie,” he said.

  My pulse slowed considerably but curiosity tingled through my veins. I was as happy as I had ever been in my life and yet, sometimes I felt as though the specter of North’s little brother was haunting us, hanging around like a shade that couldn’t or wouldn’t dissipate.

  “Yes?” I said carefully.

  “It…might change your mind about me. About…how you feel about me.” He sat up abruptly and looked down at his hands, not meeting my eyes.

  “North,” I said softly. “Nothing could change my mind. Nothing could make me stop feeling…the way I feel for you.”

  He looked up at me swiftly, a flash of hope in his eyes. “Really?”

  “Really.” I took his hand as he so often took mine now, entwining our fingers in the sweet way that was becoming dangerously familiar. “You can tell me anything. Anything at all.” I only wished I could do the same for him. Daily, my own secret became harder to bear, but I still didn’t feel ready to reveal it.

  North dug his bare feet into the sand and hunched his shoulders. “Jamie committed suicide,” he said in a low voice.

  “Oh my!” I put my free hand to my mouth. “Are you sure?”

  “Sure I’m sure.” North squinted up at the sun for a moment and then looked back at me. “I’m sure because I helped him,” he said quietly.

  For a long moment there was nothing but silence between us. The heat of Prometheus beat down on my shoulders, the bright sunlight making the sand even more silver and North’s hair more golden. A million questions rose to my lips. How? Why? Where? But somehow when I opened my mouth, only two words came out. “Tell me.”

  He sighed deeply. “Jamie had incurable cancer that affected his bones—especially his spine. The cancer twisted it. That’s why he doesn’t look quite right in those pictures I have of him.”

  I remembered the pictures of North’s younger brother, his body deformed in ways it was hard to understand, and nodded. “Go on.”

  “The cancer was eating him up inside—he was in constant pain.” North pulled his hand from mine and ran his fingers through his hair. “Near the end it got worse—unbearable. He tried to keep up a strong front around our parents but at night I could hear him through the wall…crying.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, as though trying to drive back a headache. “That was why he blasted his music. So he could finally give in to the pain without anyone knowing. But I knew.”

  “Did he know?” I asked quietly. “That you knew he was hurting?”

  North nodded. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he did. That’s why he asked me…asked me to help.” He stopped talking and was silent for a long time.

  “Do you want to tell me how you helped?” I asked at last.

  “No, I don’t,” North s
aid in a low voice. “But…I need to.” He looked at me briefly. “Does that make any sense?”

  “It doesn’t have to make sense,” I said softly. “Just tell me, North. Tell me anything you want to. Anything you need to.”

  “All right.” He looked down at his hands, his fingers twisting together restlessly. “It was late one night when Mom and Dad had gone to bed. Jamie was blasting his music as usual but then he suddenly cut it off and I heard…” He cleared his throat. “Heard him calling my name. I went to him of course. And I could tell as soon as I got in the door of his room that he was bad—really bad. Worse than I’d ever seen him.”

  North closed his eyes, his strong features contorted by the painful memory. “He wasn’t crying but the agony in his eyes…” He shook his head. “The suffering…Well, it was a million times worse than the caning the headmaster gave me. I can tell you that. And then he said…he said, ‘Danny…help me.’”