The Academy Page 5

  His eyebrows shot up. “The headmaster?”

  Quickly, before he could get the wrong idea, I filled him in on everything I had seen and heard while waiting in the headmaster’s office. When I was finished, North sat back and gave a long, low whistle.

  “And Broward caught you watching him get paddled? No wonder he’s after you, Jameson. He wants everyone to think he’s invincible because his father is on the Board of Trustees. If word got around that he actually got punished, and that he chose the paddle over the cane, his reputation would be shot all to hell.”

  “I wasn’t going to tell anyone,” I protested. “And what does it matter which he chose?”

  “The paddle’s for cowards.” North waved a hand dismissively. “Doesn’t even break the skin. The cane hurts a lot worse and it can leave permanent scars.”

  I shivered at the idea of something worse than the paddling I’d witnessed earlier that day. Though Father spoke roughly to Kristopher and myself, he had never laid a hand to either one of us or allowed anyone else to either. Would Headmaster Chauser cane me if my secret was discovered? I couldn’t let that happen.

  “Sounds like you’ll have to be on the lookout for Broward for a good long time,” North said, pulling me out of my dismal thoughts. “What’s your class schedule like? I’ll try and tell you the best way to avoid him.”

  “It’s there.” I pointed to the disposable tablet on the desk and he got off the bed to get it.

  “Hmm.” He frowned as he paged through the schedule. “Looks like you and I have a lot of the same classes. Inter-dimensional Calculus and Astro Navigation back to back. Unfortunately Broward is in the Calc class too.”

  “At least you and I are in it together,” I said, without thinking.

  North frowned. “Don’t get any ideas, shrimp. I’m your roommate, not your bodyguard. I don’t have time to come running to the rescue every time you stub your toe.”

  “Of course not,” I said stiffly. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

  North pointed at me. “You’re going to have to learn to look out for yourself. Especially in your last class of the day—mandatory physical-fitness. Broward’s in that one too and I’m not.”

  “I understand—I’m on my own.” I tried to sound calm and collected.

  “Right.” He looked satisfied, as though he’d finally made his point.

  “But how can we have the same classes if you and Broward are fourth-form and I’m third-form?” I asked, holding out my hand for the tablet.

  North handed it back to me. “In Broward’s case it’s because he flunked those courses and he’s taking them again.”

  “What about you?” I looked up at him curiously. He didn’t seem the type to fail at anything.

  “I missed most of last year.” He glanced away, a troubled look passing over his sharp features for a moment. “For…personal reasons.”

  “Personal reasons?” I said. “What—?”

  “Personal means private. Do I really have to spell that out for you?” His voice, formerly almost friendly, had turned angry and there was an unreadable look in his piercing blue eyes.

  “All right, all right. I’m sorry.” I held up my hands in a gesture of peace. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “Just keep out of my business.” North looked at me coldly. “I may have to share this room with you but that doesn’t make us friends.”

  “Fine.” I tried to make my voice as cool and distant as his. “I have no interest in your life or anything to do with you.” I lifted my chin, trying to look superior but just then, my stomach gurgled in a most unladylike manner. “Oh!” Forgetting I was supposed to be a male who didn’t care about such things, I put one hand over my stomach and another to my cheek. “Please excuse me!”

  North shook his head. “You get embarrassed really easily, don’t you? So what if you’re hungry? It’s dinner time anyway.”

  “Where do we eat around here?” I asked, getting off the bed.

  He looked at me speculatively. “All right, just this once you can come with me to the mess hall. You’ll have to sit with the third-form cadets, though—you can’t sit with me.”

  “Don’t do me any favors,” I said, not bothering to keep the anger out of my voice.

  “The forms don’t mix.” He shrugged. “That’s just the way it is at the Academy. It’s standard. Not that I’d want a shrimp like you sitting with me anyway.”

  I sighed. “Don’t call me ‘shrimp.’ And I’m beginning to think there are a lot of ‘standard’ things I’m not going to like about this place.”

  “Well, like it or not, you’re stuck here now.” He jerked his head toward the door. “Come on, shorty, let’s go.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “It’s Jameson, not shorty or shrimp or runt or pipsqueak or any other derogatory term you can come up with. Or you can just call me Kris.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “So what do I call you?”

  “Just North,” he said shortly. “I told you, Jameson, we’re roommates, not friends.”

  He headed out the door without looking to see if I was following him. For a moment I stood there fuming, then I remembered that Broward was probably lying in wait for me somewhere near and hurried to catch up. Though he made a big deal out of not being my friend or my bodyguard, I didn’t think North would stand back and allow the big bully to beat me up.

  At least, I hoped not.

  Chapter Six

  We left the Goddard building without speaking and wound our way through the maze of ivy-covered dorms, our feet whispering over the short indigo grass. I stuck close to North and kept my eyes open, expecting to see Broward again at any minute, still intent on killing me. But to my relief, he was nowhere to be seen.

  North said nothing as we walked and I got the distinct impression that my new roommate was only putting up with me because he felt obliged to—at least this once. He had a brooding look on his well cut features and appeared to be lost in thought. Though I had vowed to keep out of his personal life, I couldn’t help wonder what was going on with him. What was the ‘personal reason’ that had caused him to miss an entire year of school? And why was he so touchy about it?

  Since North didn’t fill me in on any details of the campus, I tried to keep my eyes open and memorize where the various academic buildings were. I didn’t want to get lost looking for my classes the next day but the Academy grounds were such a maze I was afraid it was a real possibility. Soon enough we found ourselves in front of a large auditorium. It had high ceilings and pale green walls which were visible through the rows of tall, rectangular plastiglass windows that ran the length of the entire building. Inside I saw cadets talking and laughing and eating.

  “This is it,” North said, breaking his silence at last. “Trays are at the front of the line. Grab one as you go in and get your food. The third-form table is third from the left. Don’t forget to clean your tray and put it in the wash-up slot before you go if you don’t want demerits.” Without another word he pushed his way through the swinging plastiglass doors, leaving me to stand alone in front of the large, crowded building.

  I felt a bubble of apprehension expanding in my chest as I looked into the teeming mess hall. Living the quiet existence that I had, I was a little shy of crowds—especially crowds where I didn’t know anyone. The few society parties that Kristopher and I had attended in Victoria had been small and intimate compared to the milling mass of cadets I saw through the plastiglass windows. Also, I had never entered a party worried that one of the other people there wanted to kill or at least, severely disfigure me. It was a touchy situation.

  Looking upward, I took a deep breath to gather myself before I went in. Prometheus was setting, turning the sky a lovely shade of deep azure-purple and Zeus was a large, dark shape looming on the horizon. The black ivy that crept along the walls rustled softly in the cool evening breeze and the Blood and Honor Blossoms swayed gently, exuding a spicy, somehow masculine fragrance into the evening air. It was almost peaceful
.

  I looked longingly at the hushed campus, wishing I could simply find a quiet spot and eat by myself but I doubted that was allowed. Besides, I had to meet my other classmates eventually. It’ll be all right, I told myself. I’m sure not all of them are as hostile as Broward or as prickly as North. I certainly hoped not, anyway.

  I wasn’t eager to go into the glow of the mess hall but there was nothing else I could do. Sighing, I pushed my way in and went to the end of the long, winding line of students waiting for food.

  There were battered metal trays in several stacks on the metal countertop. I took one and went through the line as North had instructed. A sullen faced cafeteria worker—the only woman I had seen since I entered the campus—glopped several steaming piles of reconstituted vegetable mush onto my tray, followed by some gray, unappetizing meat covered in pus-colored gravy. Looking at the food, I wondered why in the solar system the tuition at the Academy was so high. The education must be exceptional because it was clear all the money parents paid to send their sons here wasn’t being spent on food.

  The mess hall was furnished with four long rows of tables and I saw at once what North had meant about the forms not mixing. The smallest and youngest boys occupied the table at the far left—obviously the first-form seating. The next table had slightly larger and older cadets and the third table—mine—had even larger ones. The fourth-form table was last—it was filled with cadets around North’s size and age. From the self-assured way they talked and laughed, it was clear they ruled the roost at the Academy. I wondered if I would last long enough to join them.

  Sitting by himself at the fourth-form table, I saw North. He was barely picking at his meal and still seemed wrapped in brooding silence. I was surprised that he didn’t appear to be more popular. None of the cadets to either side of him were as tall and handsome as he was. His aristocratic features and dark golden hair made him stand out in the sea of faces—at least, I thought he did. Then again, he wasn’t going out of his way to be friendly. Every once in a while one of the other fourth-form students would address a remark to him but North barely nodded and never answered more than a word or two.

  I looked for Broward too, but he didn’t seem to be at the fourth-form table. I supposed he might still be in line, getting food. In which case I had better eat and leave as soon as possible—before he spotted me. I hated feeling like I was hiding from him but he’d made it clear he wouldn’t face me in a fair fight. And since he and his friends outweighed and outnumbered me, there was nothing I could do but be on my guard.

  Looking back at my own age group, I scanned the long row of third-form cadets, searching for a friendly face—but no one would even meet my eyes. They all joked and talked with the boys to either side of them but none of them appeared open to making a new friend. Sighing, I reminded myself it was probably for the best. The closer I got to anyone, the more likely it was my secret would be revealed. Still, it would have been nice to get a kind word from someone—even a stranger.

  I found an empty seat between two of the third-form cadets and put down my tray. But just as I was about to sit down, the cadet to my right—a large boy with freckles and close-set hazel eyes—grabbed my arm.

  “Hey, Tiny Tim, you can’t sit here. First-formers over there.” He jerked his head at the far table.

  “I’m third-form,” I said, meeting his eyes with a frown. “I’m Kris Jameson—I just got in today.”

  “Jameson, huh?” He raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah, I heard about you. So where’s your uniform?”

  By this time several other third-form cadets were listening to our exchange but I pretended not to notice. “It’s in my dorm room. I haven’t had time to try it on yet,” I said.

  For some reason the cadet and all of his friends burst out laughing. “Didn’t try it on yet, huh?” one of them asked, still snickering. “That’s not what we heard.”

  “Yeah, we heard you spent a nice, looooong time trying it on,” another one said.

  “It’s no wonder though.” The first cadet, the one with freckles looked at me, his close-set hazel eyes narrowed. “He’s pretty as a girl, don’tcha think? With those big, brown eyes and those soft pink lips—yeah, Jameson, all you need are some tits and we could enter you in the Miss Prometheus Pageant.”

  His jeers left me cold, and not just because I was embarrassed and furious at being laughed at. I had thought my disguise was pretty good—I had fooled the headmaster himself, after all. Also, my features were delicate but not that much different from my brother’s. Not to mention my short haircut, which went a long way toward making my face more masculine. But if this unknown cadet was making remarks about my feminine looks…

  “Well, well, Dakes, I never thought I’d see the day you went manno-a-manno on us.” The sharp, acerbic voice to my left belonged to a tall, slender cadet with carefully coifed white-blond hair and pale green eyes.

  The freckled cadet frowned. “What are you talking about, Wilkenson?”

  “Oh, just the way you were waxing poetic about our new classmate’s pretty face—his big brown eyes, his luscious lips.” He cocked one white-blond eyebrow at Dakes. “Could it be that we are in the presence of the love which dare not speak its name?”

  “What are you—hey!” Dakes was suddenly red in the face.

  “Ah, yes—finally the penny drops,” Wilkenson said dryly. “I’m so glad we’re on the same page together now. So you were saying you thought our new friend here is pretty?”

  “Shut the hell up, Wilkenson.” Dakes was red beneath his freckles. “You know I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant somebody could mistake him for a girl.”

  “And someone might mistake you for a man but that wouldn’t make it true, now would it?” Wilkenson’s pale green eyes danced with humor.

  “You—” Dakes began but Wilkenson waved at him dismissively.

  “Goodbye, Dakes. I do love these little intellectual exchanges with you. We should do it again sometime when you haven’t left your brain in your dorm.” Without waiting for a retort from the irate Dakes, he took me by the arm and nudged me to the far end of the table. “Come sit with me, Jameson. Let’s leave the Philistines to their repast.”

  I went with him, mainly because there was nothing else I could do. Sitting by Dakes and his friends was out of the question now and the only free seats were at the very end of the table where Wilkenson was leading me.

  “Thank you,” I said, once we were seated side by side with plenty of distance between ourselves and the other cadets. “That was wonderful the way you put him in his place.”

  “It’s not difficult to do if you have an IQ over 65.” Wilkenson picked delicately at a mound of reconstituted vegetables and then put down his fork. “I give up—who can eat this slop?”

  “I was wondering the same thing.” I poked my mystery meat with my fork, half expecting it to poke back. “Are all the meals here this bad?”

  Wilkenson gave a world-weary sigh. “Unfortunately, yes, my darling manikin. If you’re smart you’ll do as I do—have a relative send you a large supply of protein bars and live off them. It gets monotonous after a while but at least you know what you’re eating.” He frowned down at his tray. “Which is more than I can say for this.”

  “I don’t know if that’s an option for me.” I couldn’t see taking the risk of contacting Kristopher just to ask him to send me protein bars. The Academy had a ban on all personal communication devices which meant I would have to get away from campus in order to call him.

  “Well, then you’ll have to grin and bear it.” He gestured at my still full plate. “Eat up. I would say it will put hair on your chest and add inches to your height, but I’m afraid all I can tell you is that no one’s actually died of it before. Not that I know of, anyway.”

  “Thanks.” I picked at the mound of vegetables. “And thank you for sticking up for me instead of joining in. No one else here has been very friendly.”

  He nodded. “Is that what happened to your
cheek? A bit of ‘unfriendliness'?”

  I looked down. “You could say that.”

  “Well, worry not, my delightful homunculus. Whoever did that is doubtless just jealous of your dashing good looks.” Wilkenson batted white-blond eyelashes at me, making me laugh.

  “I doubt that,” I said dryly. “I seem to be universally hated just because I’m small. But I can’t be the only short gir— uh, person here. I didn’t see a sign that said, ‘You must be this tall to enter' outside the Academy gates when I came in this afternoon.”

  Wilkenson laughed delightedly. “Excellent—wit as well as charm. A perfect combination. And just ignore what Dakes and his fellow Philistines were saying. They hate anyone who’s different for any reason.”

  “Speaking of different…” The new voice was deep and familiar. I looked up to see North across from us, a mostly full tray in one hand and a frown on his face. “Speaking of different,” he said again, addressing Wilkenson, “I don’t think Jameson is quite the same type of different as you, Wilkenson.”