Authors: Amy Joy
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Love & Romance, #Romance, #scifi, #Mystery, #Relationships, #school, #Paranormal Romance, #Fantasy, #prison, #Family, #love story, #Speculative Fiction, #Science Fiction, #high school, #literary fiction, #teen violence, #Dystopian, #speculative, #ya lit, #teen lit, #young adult literature, #strict school, #school hell, #school sucks
I wanted them to say they were sorry,
but it was clear that an apology would never come.
“
So how’s Andy handling
all of this? Wait—how did she die? Was it her heart?”
“
Yes, it was peaceful,”
mom said. Her heart slowly gave out and she went to sleep. Hospice
was there to make it easier.”
“
Andrew is fine,” dad
said.
I wondered if this were even remotely
true. They always underestimated Andy.
We sat in silence. I was so hurt and
angry; I didn’t know what to say. I began watching the clock behind
them. With each tick of the second hand I counted down the moments
until I’d be released from this visit from hell.
“
Well, I guess if we don’t
have anything more to talk about, then we better let you get back
to class,” dad finally said.
“
Yeah, I guess so.” I
pushed out the chair and headed for the door.
Under normal circumstances, this visit
might have ended with hugs and kisses and promises for another
visit soon.
But this wasn’t that kind of a
visit.
33.
overlapping spaces
Back in the hall, I quickly became
disoriented.
Why doesn’t any of this
look familiar?
I hadn’t really paid
attention when the nurse brought me to the visiting room, but given
the fact that I had now been an Academie student for over seven
months, I thought I’d know the building by now. But it didn’t help
that the lighting in this area wasn’t good. It seemed that due to a
lack of traffic, the administration had decided to make energy
cutbacks in this part of the school.
I wandered down the hall, searching
for anything that looked familiar. Then out of the darkness and
heading in my direction, I saw the last nurse who had helped
me.
“
Where have you been?” She
looked nervously down the hall, over my shoulder.
“
Nowhere. Just visiting my
parents. Then I headed here.”
“
Oh good.” A weak smile
replaced her nervous frown.
“
Did you have a good
visit?”
“
Well, I found out my
grandma died a month ago.”
A shocked look met my eyes, but she
quickly refocused on the hallway ahead of her as she walked. “Well,
I’m sure they didn’t want to interfere with your education. The
policy of course is to limit visits and prevent removal from the
facility as much as possible.”
“
Yeah, but come on. A
death in the family has to be the exception.” My mind suddenly
flashed to Mandy—my friend from college whose mother was quite ill.
Would she be notified if anything happened? For Mandy’s sake, I
hoped so.
We reached the office where I had
recovered from my needle shock, and the nurse ushered me
in.
“
Now what?”
“
Just a few more routine
things before we can send you back to class.”
“
Seriously?”
She answered by grabbing a manila file
with my name on it.
“
Well, at least there are
no more shots, right?”
She smiled instead of
answering.
“
Take a seat on the table,
please. The doctor will be with you shortly.”
She closed the door behind her, and in
defiance I resumed pacing.
A few minutes later, a woman in a
white coat and stethoscope necklace walked in. “I’m Dr. Cran. Did
you have a nice visit?”
“
Yeah. Thanks.” I put on
my best fake smile. “Where’s the other doctor?”
“
He’s with another
patient.”
“
You get that many people
coming in and out of here?” She didn’t answer. “So, what now? Why
can’t I just go back to class?”
“
There are a few
precautionary measures to insure the health and safety of everyone
in our facility.” She looked me over. “You look healthy. I don’t
suppose we have anything to worry about.”
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 from 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.