The Academy (The Academy Saga Book 1)

by CJ Daly

  underwear up the flagpole, truth-or-dare,” I said, visibly seething at her for

  getting one over on me so completely.

  “The T-shirt game,” he prompted.

  I thought back a second and froze. I knew what he was referring to now.

  Reese had invented a “super-fun” game where she confiscated shirts from “all

  the cute boys in the senior cabin.” Then she blindfolded the girls and had us

  • 435 •

  pass them around to smell, noting which ones we liked best and rating them in order from best smelling to worst. I remembered all the hilarity surrounding

  this game as we tried matching shirt to owner. Of course she declared my

  favorite belonged to her brother, Ryan, then squealed and hug-jumped up and

  down with me like we were the winners of the game. She even went so far as

  to say we were going to be like sisters. I thought back, with a putrid burn in

  my stomach, to how flattered I was.

  What a little faker. Were all cadets such good actors?

  I just realized the real reason behind that little high-jinx was to see which

  cadet’s smell I would be most attracted to. And then get him to do the mission.

  My eyes flew to Pete’s.

  He flashed his teeth at me in the dark. “I was the proud owner of the

  winning T-shirt.”

  I flushed Hot Tamale red. Clapped my hands over my face. “Oh. My.

  God!” I groaned, not using The Lord’s name in vain.

  “I know,” he simply said, relocating his hand to my shoulder.

  I drew in a deep breath and looked at Pete with new eyes. “So this-this

  thin g,” I struggled for words, “this mission was a setup from the beginning . . .

  Y’all were spyin’ on us—I thought I was crazy!” I listed aloud all the things as they occurred to me: “My books disappearin’, that four-wheeler out in our

  pasture, you comin’ here—our relationship . . .” My voice broke after finally

  giving voice to my fears. “My emails back and forth to Reese, talking about

  you. You bein’ in my Spanish and P.E. class, the whole thing was a mission just to sign Andrew up, because he was thought to be a-a . . . PGC? ”

  He nodded. “Now you know the lengths they will go to procure the

  gifted.”

  “What . . .” I swallowed, almost too scared to ask. “What do they do

  with them?”

  “Whatever they want,” he declared bluntly.

  That feeling was right on my neck now, making the hairs stand on edge

  like prickly little icicles. “And you said Ranger wanted to do this mission? To be the one to vet my brother?”

  Pete’s face turned grim as the reaper. “Yes. Next to Ryan, he was the

  favorite. He was pretty disappointed he was passed over,” Pete stressed in a

  way that let me know it was an understatement. “Ranger knows it’s the wave of

  the future for The Academy. They’re sinking millions into the GAP program,

  and he wants a piece of the action. Procuring a legitimate gifted would be yet

  another notch in his belt.”

  • 436 •

  “I don’t understand why they would’ve considered him. I mean if you were the um . . . best man for the job.”

  “Because I wasn’t anyone’s favorite for this mission”—tight smile—“except

  for yours,” he added, his expression softening. “As a matter of fact, I was

  probably Weston’s last pick. Fortunately, the T-shirt contest changed all that.”

  “It was really down to a T-shirt contest?” It sounded more like a spring

  break game for frat guys than something an elite military academy would

  participate in.

  “They wanted someone who would appeal to both you and Andrew,” he

  explained. “Ranger argued his case all the way up the ranks to Weston himself

  that he could and should do it because—” Pete stopped short, shook his head, and looked off into the black wasteland

  “Because . . .”

  He hit me with a look then hit me with: “Because he was T-shirt

  number two.”

  “No!” My hands flew to my mouth, where they stayed a while.

  No way!— The Terminator?

  “That’s right.” Pete barked out a humorless laugh. “Ranger came in second

  place. And nothing makes him madder than that . . . except for losing to me.”

  My hands fell to my lap, causing my mouth to cave open. But no words

  came out.

  “That’s likely another reason he hated on you,” Pete said. “I told you, don’t

  take it personally. Ranger should’ve just chalked it up to pheromones. But I’m

  sure on some level he blames you for not choosing him—he’s an egotist and

  a sore loser. And he’s going to do everything in his power to make you pay if

  he loses. That’s just who he is. That’s probably why he gave you such a hard

  time at the diner . . . and to give me a harder time on my mission.”

  My face contorted. “Well, I would never have fallen for him!”

  Pete had nothing to say to that bold declaration. His eyes penetrated mine

  as if searching . . . Something flickered there for an instant. Doubt? “That’s something my mother would refer to as ‘famous last words,’” he remarked in

  a way that sounded like a warning.

  “Not if he was the last man on earth!” I overly asserted.

  He pursed his lips. “Well, it’s a specious argument anyway.”

  “And nobody would’ve believed he was in high school,” I added an

  addendum before switching to a less touchy subject. “I still don’t quite

  understand why y’all went to such great lengths for me if nobody but you

  knows about my, er . . . gifts.”

  “Prior to the camp set-up, we approached your father about signing

  • 437 •

  Andrew. He turned us down flat, citing you as the reason. Said his daughter would never allow it, seeing as how you had your mind set on raising the boys.

  I believe his exact words were . . .” Pete paused and looked up, as though to

  scroll through his brain, “‘you’d promised your mother, before she was made

  an angel, and that you’d fight like the devil to see it through,’ ’ he finished

  with a fond smile.

  I was too taken aback to appreciate it. Not the meeting Daddy never

  mentioned, the turning them down flat part. Thought he was Team IEA all

  the way.

  Pete continued: “We were unsurprised by this, already privy to the fact

  your father had turned down several exclusive schools that offered scholarships.

  So we set about sweetening the deal. We felt your father would cave with

  bribes, some ego stroking, and by emphasizing the military portion of The

  Academy. But we knew you had the most influence over your brother.

  “This made you our target. You and Andrew. Andy, it turned out, was the

  easy target.” Pete said this in a way that made me want to slap him. “He was

  smitten with the whole idea from day one. You—not so much.”

  “The easy target,” I repeated in a wooden voice.

  Pete’s eyes slanted down at the corners. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound

  calloused. I really like Andrew; he’s a great kid. I’m just trying to be as

  forthright as possible.”

  I slowly nodded. “Go on.”

  “So they followed you, finding very little from their surveillance because

  all you do is work, go to church, and take care of the boys. Then wake up

  and do it all over again.” I cringed a
t how accurately and succinctly put my

  life was. “Finally, they got a break: you were going to that church camp for

  a week. The Mission Team thought you needed to be thrown into the midst

  of a teen romance.”

  I shook my head in disbelief; it felt like evil gamers were playing with

  my life.

  Pete stopped long enough to allow me my disgruntled growl. “. . . So

  they sent Reese and Ryan on a field trip to Oklahoma. She was to friend you,

  gather new intel, get you warmed up. Then Ryan was supposed to swoop in

  and—as you so aptly put it—‘razzle-dazzle’ you. Didn’t quite work out that

  way. It was pretty obvious you were only going through the motions, so they

  initiated the T-shirt contest to see if they could get you more motivated.

  And . . . voila!” He indicated himself. “I found myself recruited for a mission

  I was never slated for.”

  I felt myself go iron-bar cold. A set up the whole time.

  • 438 •

  “The mission was to loosen the maternal bonds with your brother by making you fall—” My face began to crumple, so he deftly rephrased, “For

  me. To win you over . . . you and your family.”

  Fresh tears stung my eyes. No better. Any way you wanted to look at it, it was sickening. I felt violated and humiliated. Pete looked distraught, pained,

  chagrined—all the things he should be feeling. He tried to hug me, but I

  scrabbled away. I should’ve been less mad since he was being so forthright, but I wasn’t. My female pride and tender heart were taking a beating.

  “Kate, honey. I’m sorry. I’ve been so torn up about it.”

  There he went again being a good guy. But you know what? I didn’t care

  whether he was good, bad, or purple with pink spots. I was way too mad to

  see anything but red.

  “A con,” I spat. “Everything was a dadgum con!” We didn’t have anything

  real. He’d been faking— acting like he liked me, pretending to find me pretty.

  My intuition was spotty as the rainfall round here.

  I was the kind of sick that twisted intestines. I wanted to retch in the

  brushy bushes. Wished I would’ve thrown-up on him in the hospital—big,

  fat faker he was! The smoldering eyes and heart-breaking smiles, the concern,

  going the extra mile . . . all for the friggin’ mission.

  “Well congratulations, Cadet Davenport . . . job well done!” I heaved

  myself away from him, into the bitter cold. “Really—they should give you an

  armload of Oscars for your performance!” I declared, using my own arms as

  a tourniquet to hold myself together. I couldn’t stop myself from crying, quite

  like the baby I was, I guess.

  But real y, how much could one girl take?

  “I told you you would hate me,” he said, sounding almost as miserable

  as he should.

  “You were right,” I sniffled out, trying hard not to fall apart over something

  I’d suspected the whole time. However, it was hard being reasonable about

  matters of the heart. He reached for me, and I recoiled back as violently as a

  girl who’d just had buckets of pig’s blood dumped on her by all the cool kids.

  Waving away his second attempt at contact, I choked out, “I sh-shoulda h-hit

  you h-h-harder!”

  It was just . . . after being so elated to see him again, sharing that wildly-

  passionate “interlude,” and then having it confirmed, it made my stomach

  burn with shame as much as my heart break.

  “Kate, listen to me. You have it wrong. It’s not entirely like that.”

  “Yes, Pete. It’s exactly like that . . . you just confirmed it.” I swiped hard at my tears. “Anyhow, I guess I should be thankin’ you for tellin’ me the truth.”

  • 439 •

  He heaved a sigh, looking down at me through those lashes. “I do love spending time with you . . . when we’re not fighting, someone’s not fighting

  me, and you’re not bashing my head in.”

  “So that’s to say exactly five minutes of our time together.”

  He huffed out amusement. “Something like that,” he said, prying my

  hand from my side to draw me back to him. I let him. I felt so weary all of

  a sudden. And strange. Like I was spiraling through space, hurtling towards

  my death, yet couldn’t even get worked up enough to pull the string on my

  parachute. My chin anvil-dropped to my chest. He put his arm around me

  and rubbed at my arm as though trying to bring feeling back, but I was

  emotionally numb, in a near-catatonic state.

  After an indeterminate amount of time, I straightened up. “I don’t believe

  in the power of my intuition—you had me fooled, Reese and Ryan had me

  fooled, you all had me fooled. God! How y’all must’ve laughed at me!”

  “Don’t do this to yourself.” He took my hand, squeezed. “It’s not just you.

  Can’t you see? I do have feelings for you— inappropriate feelings. Wrong on so many levels.” He sighed and dropped my hand, staring up through the

  emaciated limbs of the elder tree. “I already have a hard enough time living

  with myself for being part of this whole sordid mess. If I took advantage of

  you, I’d never be able to live with myself.”

  I let silence speak for me.

  “Kate, listen—your intuition was working, because I wasn’t faking with you. I love spending time with you! Nothing was a lie there. You pretty much busted me on every single lie I’ve told since I met you . . . and they all had to

  do with Academy business.”

  I was listening.

  “And the chemistry is also working both ways,” he whispered, looking

  at me in a way that made my thigh yearn for the warmth of his palm again.

  “Trust me. It was the best and worst part of the job. The best—for obvious

  reasons. And the worst . . . because it was almost impossible to stop myself

  when I was around you.”

  I gave him a watery smile and leaned into him now, reabsorbing his

  warmth.

  “You’re just so young and inexperienced,” he said. “It would’ve been a

  crime to take that away from you.”

  I was silent awhile longer, cuddled up in the nook of his arm, thawing

  out my body and my heart. I stared out at the black bleakness, thwarted by a

  million stars, and wondered what they had in store for us.

  “Do you still hate me?” His voice sounded thick.

  • 440 •

  How could I? He was risking his neck to warn me, to tell me the truth.

  Inhaling as deeply as I could through a stuffed nose, I shook my head. “Nope.

  But I don’t think I love you anymore either.”

  Pete tried a smile that didn’t take hold. “Good.” He squeezed me to him.

  “I don’t deserve your love anyway.”

  “So my first crush ended up crushing me in the end.”

  “God, Kate. Don’t say that . . . our timing’s off is all. You’re everything

  a guy could want and more: loving, passionate, loyal, not to mention

  beautiful . . . but more, like, on the inside, if you can believe it,” he said,

  using my words about my mother. (Think my face was out-glowing the moon

  by this point.) “I could go on all night, but unfortunately, I don’t think I’m

  gonna last much longer.” I was busy swallowing the lump in my throat when

  he said, “I know I’ve hit you with a lot of heavy stuff, but there’s one more

  thing I need to tell you.�
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  I searched his face in the moonlight and watched as his eyes turned sober

  on me. Oh God. I felt so fragile—like I’d shatter at the slightest provocation.

  “Is there anything left in the flask?” It felt like I was barely able to get my

  mouth to move.

  Pete gave me a watchful look before handing over the offending thing.

  “Just for God’s sake don’t hit me with it again!”

  I tried forming both a smile and an apology, couldn’t quite make either

  one happen. Instead, I gracelessly sputtered my way through the last dregs of

  alcohol. “Okay, so where were we?” At this moment of suspension, dread was

  my most dominant emotion.

  “This concerns your mother.”

  My heart quit pumping. “My mother?”

  “I think she was an ex-cadet,” he said, not mincing words.

  “What?”

  “I think she escaped and hid out here, in the middle of nowhere, hiding

  her gifted children from the world because she was afraid The Academy would

  find you and snatch you back for themselves.”

  Even as my eyes bugged out of my head, I instantly knew he was right.

  Images from my childhood began whirring through my mind, things clicking

  into place, stacking evidence in favor of this new theory. It sure explained a

  lot—the paranoia about special schools, her lack of family outside our core

  unit, never allowing outsiders in, always reminding me to miss a few test

  questions. Then, when Andrew attracted so much attention in kindergarten,

  just giving up to home-school us. And she certainly fit the profile, I thought,

  seeing her natural beauty in a whole new light.

  • 441 •

  I was quiet so long Pete squeezed my leg. “Kate, think about it—it makes sense. I had my suspicions before, but when your father informed me you

  were so paranoid about The Academy because your mother had poisoned you

  against schools for gifted children, that’s when I knew for sure.”

  I stared out into the minefield of my past so shell-shocked I couldn’t even

  appreciate how intimately his fingers were gripping my inner thigh.

  “There’s other evidence too: organic farming, raising your own livestock,

  and I had the well water checked for impurities—it’s clean. That’s Academy

  all the way,” Pete continued on as though having to convince me. I was only

  half tuned-in, reevaluating the whole of my existence.