The Academy - Forgiveness and Permission (Year One, Book Four) (10 page)

"No skipping class," Kota said.

Gabriel reached around, collecting my cheeks, making me do fish lips and rocking my head back and forth to make me mimic like I  was the one talking. "Tell him, Sang. Say 'Gabriel and I want to go home and sleep.'"

"She was out all last week," Kota said. "She's not skipping out now."

Gabriel grunted, and leaned in to whisper in my ear. "You tell me when you want to skip school, okay? I've got keys to the cars, too, you know."

I stifled a giggle, only letting Gabriel hear me. He grinned, and this seemed to appease him for now.

But I didn't skip. I knew better. The longer I stayed away from class, the harder it would be to adjust back into something almost normal. Whatever normal was to become for me now.

After math class, since Nathan was gone, North escorted me to the music room.

“Sang,” he said, pausing outside of Music Room B. “Do you want me to go in with you?”

I tilted my head at him. I wasn’t sure if Mr. Blackbourne would like this. “Should I have you with me? I thought Mr. Blackbourne was just going to tell me what to say to Mr. Hendricks if he asked for me.” I’d been so preoccupied about them that I didn’t have a chance to contemplate today and what Mr. Blackbourne would do.

North’s lips teased a smile on his otherwise serious and intense face. “He’ll probably tell you that, but he’ll probably teach you other things. I wasn’t sure if you were really ready for this.”

My shoulders stiffened and my breath escaped me. My hand absentmindedly went to my mouth. “I want to ask you,” I said honestly, “only I don’t know if Mr. Blackbourne would want it. And you really shouldn’t miss class.”

North collected my hand at my mouth and squeezed it. “Text me if you need. I don’t care if I’m in class. You’re in good hands with him, okay? Trust him.”

I nodded. He let go of me and left.

I entered the classroom, the violin case in my hands, a decoy to my real reason for being there.

Mr. Blackbourne stood on the other side of the room, expectant, his arms crossed over his chest. His light brown hair was perfectly cropped around his ears. His gray eyes met mine, commanding me without having spoken yet. “Miss Sorenson.”

“Mr. Blackbourne,” I said in greeting.

“Let’s get started,” he said. He gestured for me to come closer.

I dropped my bag and the violin in a chair by the door. Mr. Blackbourne directed me to stand near the chalkboard. He picked up a piece of chalk, and wrote: Nathan was at CPR training today.

“Read that out loud for me,” he said, rubbing at the dust on his fingers.

I repeated the line, glancing at him.

“Not bad,” he said. “Try it again, but look me in the eyes when you say it.”

I sucked in a breath for the courage to look at him. I repeated myself.

His gray eyes bore into mine, scrutinizing. He nodded after, the millimeter smile returning. “Good. You’re a quick study.” He erased the sentence from the board.

“Is that where he is?” I asked.

“Actually, yes. This time, he is. There’s an all-day first aid and CPR recertification at the university hospital. It’s Nathan’s turn to attend.”

“They all get that?” I asked. “Is it an Academy requirement?”

Mr. Blackbourne pursed his lips, drawing in a breath and holding it. He released it and answered me. “We like to insure our students are prepared for anything.”

“Should I tell Mr. Hendricks where he is? That he’s at the hospital?”

“You can,” he said. “What I want you to concentrate on is how he responds. You’re already very perceptive.”

“I am?”

“Females are generally more aware of tones and inflection of voices than males. Women can often sense when men are angry before they know it themselves. It’s ingrained.” He wrote another sentence on the board: Nathan is a karate class right now.

“Now read this,” he commanded.

I read it out loud.

His head tilted at me, a curious expression in his eyes. “Remarkable.”

“Pardon?”

“You’re an open book. You can’t even read something with a steady voice if you know it’s a lie. The words are on the board, you’re reading the phrase, but since you know it’s false, it doesn’t matter. Concept over context.”

I frowned. “That bad, huh?”

“It’s perfect,” he said, turning to erase the sentence.

“But Nathan once told me I should learn how to lie. They wanted to teach me so I wouldn’t get in so much trouble.”

“Oh no, we won’t do that,” he said. “There’s hundreds of human facial tells that you’d have to learn to control to become any good at lying.”

“But Dr. Green had told me to lie to my mother if needed.”

“Your mother was taking the wrong medication and handcuffing you in the shower,” he said in such a blatant way that I cringed at hearing it. “You could have said the sky was blue and she would have thought you were lying, so truth or lies didn’t matter. Keeping her from killing you was all that mattered.”

I bit my lower lip, unsure of how to respond.

He wrote another sentence on the board: North ate pancakes for breakfast this morning.

I blinked at him. “Is it true?”

“Read it before you ask me.”

I sucked in a breath, reading the line out loud.

“Not bad,” he said. He rewrote the sentence: Mr. Blackbourne said that North ate pancakes for breakfast this morning.

“Read,” he commanded.

I did, but even I noticed I said it with more confidence.

“This is the key,” he said. “If you aren’t sure, placing the responsibility of the truth onto someone else is enough to keep you from wavering. As long as you’re willing to trust that what I’ve said is true, you can relay the information in confidence.”

I touched my fingers at the base of my throat, thinking of his meaning. “So you’re saying you could feed me information, and not tell me if it is a truth or a lie. If I told him you told me, he’d believe that I was being honest.”

“The problem comes with believing what I tell you is the truth. You’ll have to trust me.”

“Even though it could be a lie at any time?”

He nodded. “Most of the time, I won’t have to. Mr. Hendricks is checking out the wrong group if he’s looking for dirt to blackmail us with. We’ll keep him busy for a while chasing his own tail.”

“But you keep secrets all the time. The Academy is secretive. Why would you tell me true things to tell him? Wouldn’t you lie to make sure he doesn’t find out? What if I say something that tips him off to the truth?”

“A secret is a fact you don’t know yet. There’s many reasons to keep something a secret, not all of them are bad. Sometimes the fact is so insignificant, it wouldn’t matter if it was revealed, but you believing there’s a secret makes it seem more important than it is.” His eyebrow lifted as his steel gaze fixed on me.

His face told me everything. This didn’t apply to just Mr. Hendricks and his wanting to discover their secrets.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to tell me about the Academy.”

The millimeter smile returned. “Kota doesn’t give you nearly enough credit. You pick up quickly.”

Something secret about the Academy didn’t need to be a secret, they kept it that way on purpose. It’s simpler than they make it appear. What part? I blushed, pushing a finger to my mouth. “Mr. Blackbourne?”

A perfectly arched eyebrow lifted. “Yes, Miss Sorenson?”

There were a million questions I wanted to ask, but this one popped out first. “Why didn’t Kota want me to join the Academy?”

His lips parted as he paused. It was the first time I’d seen him hesitate. His eyes shifted, as if calculating how to answer. “Part of it is you weren’t really ready for it. Dr. Green and I believe you make an excellent candidate, but it is much better to have you join us willingly rather than enter due to an emergency situation. Kota believes you should fully know what you’re getting into before jumping in.”

“There’s more to it,” I said. “His sister, Jessica, said he didn’t want her to join, either.”

“Bringing girls into the Academy is always a complication. Teams are pulled together based on personal interests. The majority are male groups. There’s a couple of all female groups, but they’re very finicky about who they take in. While it isn’t forbidden for a girl to join a male group, it’s highly discouraged.”

“Why?”

The smile returned. “Because we depend very strongly upon everyone in the group to get along, to trust one another. We also need to keep our families and loved ones happy. A girl in the group makes personal relationships strained. For example, if Kota had a girlfriend, but had to spend a lot of time with you, without being able to tell his girlfriend where he’s been or what you two have been doing, the girlfriend won’t last. Being involved with the Academy is tough enough on a relationship without jealousy complicating it.”

“So that’s why Kota said I could never join,” I whispered, my heart sinking. I knew Kota had repeated a couple of times I shouldn’t join the Academy. Some small part of me still hoped I could. I thought perhaps he thought it was too dangerous. But it wasn’t about danger at all. “Kota’s afraid if I join, if any of you want to be in a relationship with someone, I’d be the cause for it to fail. He was protecting the others from having to deal with that.”

“It’s only one of a few different reasons, but don’t count yourself out yet,” he said quietly, fixing those soft gray eyes on me. “There’s still a chance.”

“But how ...” I said, but as the words escaped, the bell rang. No! Not yet! I was so close. I felt now I could ask him anything and there was so much I wanted to know.

Mr. Blackbourne’s eyes drifted to the clock. He sucked in a breath, touched the knot of his tie before facing me again. “Relax, Miss Sorenson. There’s plenty of time. Just remember to trust us. That’s the first rule of the Academy: Trust your family.”

Despite his confidence, I drifted to my things, collecting them with a heavy heart. It was impossible. Kota didn’t want me in the Academy because I’d stop him and the others from ever having any sort of romantic life. Did that also mean he wasn’t interested in a romantic relationship with me, either? If someone he was romantically interested in joined the group, it wouldn’t matter because he wouldn’t have to keep secrets from her. But then the others would have a problem if they ever wanted girlfriends.

I wanted to believe Mr. Blackbourne that there was a chance, but I was already having problems with the guys now trying to keep them happy. But maybe that’s why when I thought Kota or the others wanted to kiss me, that they backed away. Or maybe I didn’t know anything at all about relationships and didn’t understand enough.

It still meant joining the Academy could never happen. Part of me was concerned that our friendship probably was an impossibility, too. I couldn’t be part of their family. Never completely. I was always on the outside and I probably always will be.

One day, they would all have to let go of me.

♥♥♥

W
hen Victor collected me outside of music class, I forced a smile, even though I was feeling defeated.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, collecting my hand and pulling me toward our next class.

I couldn’t lie. Mr. Blackbourne proved it. Trust meant honesty, though. Maybe I didn’t believe Mr. Blackbourne yet, but I had to start somewhere. “Long story, but Mr. Blackbourne basically said I could never join the Academy.”

Victor’s fire eyes lit up into a blaze. “Did he say never or did he say it would be difficult?”

I twisted my lips. “He said there’s a chance, but I don’t see how.”

The corner of his mouth arched up and the fire in his eyes simmered on low. “Are you saying you don’t believe him? You don’t trust he knows what he’s talking about?”

The déjà vu of the conversation with North earlier struck me between the eyes. I sighed. “I want to believe him.”

“If you figure out that you really want in, and told him so, he’d find a way. Mr. Blackbourne has a thing for impossible challenges. He rarely ever loses.”

As we walked down the hallway to the door that led out to the trailers, someone stepped into our path. We both stopped short. The guy nodded his chin at Victor but looked at me.

“That your boyfriend?” he asked me, a smirk on his lips.

I was about to say no when I remembered what Kota said the day before. “Yes,” I said, trying to sound sure of it. I kept my eyes on the kid, wondering if Victor was going to be shocked that I had done it.

“Excuse us,” Victor said to the guy in our way. “We’re going to class.”

The guy laughed and backed away. “You know she was holding hands with another dude earlier,” he called to us as we walked out the door.

His voice and his face suddenly came back to me. I groaned.

“Did you know him?” Victor asked.

“He ran into us yesterday. Kota was with me and the kid asked if he was my boyfriend. Kota told him yes and said later if anyone else asked, I was to say whoever I was with, that person was my boyfriend.”

“I don’t care what the other students think,” Victor said calmly, looking nonplussed as we walked quickly toward the trailer in the back.

I readjusted my grip on the violin case in my hand. “Why not?”

“What does it matter?” he asked. He looked up from the ground to my face. “Were you trying to impress him?”

“No.”

“Do you worry about what that person over there is thinking?” he asked me, motioning to a kid who was standing outside of a classroom as he talked on his cell phone.

“No, of course not,” I said. “But ...”

“The only people I care to hear from is us, our group,” he said. “I agree with Kota. If someone else asks you if we’re dating, you can tell them yes. You can tell them you’re dating Silas. You can tell them whoever you want. It’ll probably be safer.”

“Safer how?”

He sighed, half smiling. He tugged at my hand to get me to hurry. “In a year it won’t matter, anyway. They won’t even remember us.”

“They’ll remember me,” I said. “I’ll still be here. You’ll be at the Academy.”

He frowned, pursing his lips and remained quiet the rest of the way to class.

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