by B D Grant
Mick is in his usual spot at his desk when I enter.
“How’s it going?” he asks.
I close the door and drop my backpack on the floor by my closet. “Good.”
“You just missed Boston.”
“I saw him leaving. He doing okay?”
Mick shuts his notebook. He grabs another notebook off of the pile of schoolbooks. “He’s good. Being Valor completes him,” he says dryly.
The last part grabs my attention. Both of us know how he feels about being Valor. The only reason I think he’s Valor now is because he doesn’t have Howard to give it to. Since Howard left Boston has complained about the ignorance he has to deal with in his competitors every Competition Day. “That’s… good.”
I take my shoes off, throw my comforter over my messy bed, and sit down on what now looks like a nicely made bed with only a couple lumps here and there. Mick uncharacteristically comes to sit next to me. I scoot over. Being this close in proximity is uncomfortable for me. He flips to the back page of his notebook and begins jotting some things down. He has it positioned so I can read what he’s writing.
Boston is worried about your performance yesterday. You did good. He pauses, looking over at me. Satisfied that I’m reading he continues writing, Too good. He thinks it’ll raise questions. No one makes that big of a jump out of the blue. If anyone asks if you’ve done anything different tell them you’ve changed up your practices since last C. Day. He hands me the pen and holds the book out for me.
I scribble, Ok.
He takes the pen from me. He writes feverishly. I don’t think you get the magnitude of this. Boston’s stress level is unreal.
“He’s got a lot on his plate,” I say out loud.
Mick punches me in the shoulder. “Shh!” he hisses sharply. He writes some more. We no longer talk about any of this. Boston thinks writing is the safest communication. His interrogations yesterday were at an all time high. He thinks there will be more early placements.
I take the pen from him. Early placement is a good thing. Why is he worried?
He doesn’t think it’s what we’ve been told. The last student that got early placement before you arrived is deceased. He pauses to give me a grave look then writes, Boston saw the paperwork on him. A knock at the door sends Mick high-tailing it, with the notebook in hand, to the bathroom. The sink immediately turns on full blast. He pokes his head out of the bathroom and nods for me to answer the door. He shuts the bathroom door behind him as I get up.
I open the door rubbing my eyes to look as if I was sleeping. When I open the door Glensy’s standing there looking impatient. “There you are.” He’s dressed out in P.E. garb. I step in the hall to join him so he won’t try to go in my room with Mick getting rid of our conversation.
“What’s up?”
“I’m here to bring you to the scrimmage.”
“What scrimmage?”
“That’s why I’m here,” he says, shifting impatiently. “Get changed so we can go and I’ll tell you about it on the way.”
Walking fast to the south end of campus Glensy grabs my elbow directing me away from the field. “Wrong way,” he says. We continue walking in the clearing between the woods and the field. I don’t know where he’s taking me and I have never heard of scrimmages off the field.
“Had any migraines lately?” I ask, trying to shake my uneasiness.
“Nope.”
“That’s good.” My nerves are starting to cause the adrenaline to flow. Would Glensy walk me into a trap? Mase could be wanting to pummel me if he found out I beat him Competition Day. My hands ball up thinking about the possibilities.
This could also have something to do with the package I dropped off. We are walking in that direction.
“I haven’t had one since the pool party,” he says.
“So why a last minute scrimmage?”
“It’s not. The top ten Dynamar always play the day after Competition Day. It’s one of the perks.”
Making it past the field I see there are Dynamar, students and teachers alike, warming up. Mr. Grad and Dr. Baudin are among them. The pristine grass past the field surrounds a large oval dirt patch that’s been heavily trampled upon. Clearly, that is where the scrimmage will take place.
“That’s who we’re playing?” I ask, pointing at the group of teachers.
“Didn’t I tell you that part?”
“You left that little detail out.” This is what he must have meant by a perk. Putting the smack down on teachers is a dream come true. I’m going to enjoy every second of it.
Glensy and I finish warming up with the eight Dynamar students who are equally pumped about the scrimmage. Mase doesn’t even scowl at me for being in close proximity of him. However, in the small group he stays as far away from me as he can. The guy closest to Mase is asking him to talk to Lia for him since she got back on campus last night. He thinks she can reduce his punishment for getting caught with gum in class for the third time this week.
We’re all given mouth guards and helmets before taking our positions. Mr. Grad stops Dr. Baudin before he gets on the dirt, “You aren’t going to…unpack?” Dr. Baudin looks at Mr. Grad, confused. Mr. Grad pats on his lower back.
“Oh, yeah. Thanks, Gradney,” he says, reaching behind him and lifting the back of his shirt. The side of his abdomen’s exposed, showing a flesh-colored band wrapped around him. He pulls out a gun from the band and says, “I forget I have it on me,” nonchalantly. He takes the magazine out, checks the chamber, and then adds it to the small pile of the teachers’ belongings on the grass. I take stock of everyone around and none of them are fazed by what he just took off his person.
Dr. Baudin jogs to his position in the dirt. He is directly across from me. We all take our stance. “You’re a little light in the britches to think you stand a chance,” he tells me.
I smile, unfazed. “I would take it easy on you old man but you gave me a ‘C’ on my last assignment.”
More trash talk is going on around us. The only difference between what I’m hearing now and any other football game is that the language isn’t as vulgar.
Mr. Baudin’s enjoying this as much as anyone. “I don’t give grades, you earn them, sport.”
If I had to guess, the youngest teacher at the scrimmage is knocking on 40’s door. For a bunch of middle-aged men they tear us up as soon as the ball’s in play. Another surprising fact is that I don’t catch a whiff of any alcohol on Dr. Baudin’s breath during the scrimmage.
I emerge from the scrimmage happy with my performance. I kept Mick and Boston’s concerns in mind to not excel in order to deter the unwanted attention. I was able to perform well while making sure other students were doing better. I was able to control my ability easily since there were no Tempero around pushing me to snap. When any tinge of D-mode wanting to take over I’d cap it. The only slip up I had was when a teacher tackled me to the ground at the end of a play. When he got to his feet saying, “And you stay down, momma’s boy!”
I didn’t see D-mode coming. In a flash Glensy was in my face pushing me back. “Don’t give him the pleasure,” he tells me. I didn’t remember getting to my feet or going after the teacher, but the sound of blood rushing in my ears subsides allowing me gain control of myself.
“Keep it together,” I repeated to myself for the remainder of the scrimmage.
For a losing team we have tired smiles on our faces when it’s all said and done. We joke around making fun of one another on our slow tread past the field. The sounds of stage twos playing football and coaches yelling from inside the fence serenade us. This is what I’ve needed. Everything else that’s been plaguing me disappears. It is replaced by feelings of comradery. We feel on top of the world. I feel so good I could even forgive Mase for being such a tool to me all this time.
“We haven’t won a scrimmage yet,” Glensy tells me as we all walk back to campus housing.
“Not since you started making top ten,” Mase teases him.
> Glensy gives him a dry laugh playfully backhanding him on the shoulder.
Abby appears across the courtyard walking south to the end of campus. When she sees us she changes course, taking off running in our direction. Mase notices her and is immediately concerned. He and Glensy break off from the group. I keep pace with the others keeping an eye on Abby.
“Mase! Can you believe it?” she exclaims running up.
“What?” he asks.
“She got it! They announced it at the end of class. She’s already left.” She’s talking fast but not from excitement. She’s mad. “I mean, really?”
“Who is she talking about?” Glensy asks Mase.
“No idea,” he tells him.
Abby huffs in frustration, “Lena, you idiots! She’s on her way to some top secret job out west.”
With envy, the Dyna in front of me says, “Lena got early placement.”
13
T. Advanced ability
The Southern Academy wastes no time informing the student body about Family Day. The morning announcement informs us that our visitors will be coming in three days. By lunch hour I pass four posters with “Family Day” painted big on them in bright colors on my way to Cassidy’s office.
“Where’s your lunch?” she asks when I stroll in her office.
I chose not to bring food this time so if I get super bored I have an excuse to leave. “I can get a bite after. This won’t take all hour, huh?”
“I guess not. I’m not going to make you starve.”
Yup, I knew it was a good idea to come empty handed. She ushers me into the same chair facing her desk that I was in last time. She looks down at papers on her desk. “I say we dive right into it if that’s alright with you.”
“Yes, please.” Lets get this over with.
“Okay, we’ll begin simple. Try to do precisely what you did before.”
“K.”
She presses a button on her phone. “Bet, could you come to my office?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Cassidy’s secretary walks in and Cassidy picks up a sheet of paper. “I need copies made and sent out before three o’clock.”
Bet walks to Cassidy’s desk and takes the paper. “Whom am I sending them to?”
Cassidy shuffles the remaining papers around on her desk saying, “I know the list is here. You were in the meeting this morning, weren’t you?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Just send it to everyone that was there,” Cassidy tells her.
Bet is lying but I don’t get a clear reason. I begin to pick up on why then Cassidy interrupts my efforts with another question. “What are the security changes going to be?” Her question causes me to lose focus.
Bet shifts in her short heels then swallows before answering. I know she’s lying before she even opens her mouth. “More Dynamar like they were talking about before.” I push, allowing the lie to open in front of me.
“Okay, that’ll be all for now,” Cassidy says. Bet smiles faintly at me as she turns to leave.
Once the door is shut Cassidy straightens the papers that are in disarray. “So,” she says mid organizing, “What did you get from that?”
“The first question was answered with a lie, sorta.”
“How so?” Cassidy asks.
“I think she wasn’t in the meeting the whole time.”
“You think?”
“I was getting it but then you asked her another question. I didn’t get anything solid before it was replaced, with the new lie.”
She picks up her pen to write but thinks better of it. “So you need time to go into someone’s lie,” she states. She taps the end of her pen on the desk, thinking. “Okay, so what about her next answer?”
“That was a crappy lie.”
“I agree but do you know why she lied?”
“She was worried her boyfriend would open her anniversary present she left him before she got back so she left the meeting early. Security was not discussed while she was there.”
She looks at her door. “That’s not what she told me earlier. In fact, she hasn’t mentioned having a significant other.”
“She already told you she wasn’t there the whole meeting?”
“Of course.”
“So why did she just make that stuff up?” I ask.
“I asked her to,” she says like it’s no big deal. She turns around and gets a bottle of water. She takes a drink before setting it on her desk. “I told her I was going to test you a little, that was all.”
I turn in my seat and look at the door. “You told her about me?” My voice doesn’t hide my frustration. I face her with an infuriated glare.
“Don’t look at me like that. She only knows that you’re a Veritatis, nothing beyond that.” She isn’t lying.
Cassidy begins pacing behind her desk. “Timing needs to improve,” she pauses at the corner of her desk. “Do you have to see them?”
“What?”
“Do you have to see the person telling the lie to read into it?”
“As far as I know.”
She goes to her phone. She presses a button and Bet answers, “You need me again?”
“No, you did great, but I have a favor to ask. Taylor needs heels for family day and mine will be too big. What size do you wear?”
“A six.” Another lie. It’s easy to see into this one.
“Nope, too small. Thanks, Bet.”
“Don’t mention it.”
She presses another button then looks at me. Cassidy sits back down looking smug waiting on me to say something.
“You know she’s lying.”
“I’m a Veritatis too, Taylor. I can feel a lie without being in the same room with the person.”
“So you told her to lie about that too?”
“No, that was all her. I don’t call her out when she lies over unimportant, little things, normally. It helps to keep the peace. I need you to tell me why she lied.”
“Easy, she’s self-conscious. All I got from her was that foot size is a sore subject. She doesn’t want to be made into the butt of anyone’s jokes.”
“That’s juvenile.”
“There wasn’t anything else.” I take the glass paperweight from her desk. “You can call her again and ask if she was picked on as a child. I’m sure that would give me more.” I pass the paperweight between my hands enjoying its weight and smooth texture. She watches me. I’m waiting for her to tell me to put in down but instead she says, “Hold it to the light.” The paperweight is solid black, but when I hold it up the light it passes through it.
“Cool.”
The light exposes the stone to be a smoky gray, translucent rock, not black at all.
“Now put it back.” She nods to her desk. I set it on the papers that I got it from.
“Where did you get it?”
She stands up and walks around the desk. “From a dead guy. Now, come with me. I have something tougher in mind for you.”
“Great,” I say getting up. I’m going to feign hunger pains soon if she keeps this up.
She brings me to an empty meeting room. “You don’t have to sit down.” She pulls the phone closer to me that’s sitting on the long table in the middle of the room. “You need to be able to hear this, though.” She points to the volume buttons. “Self explanatory. Up for loud, down to lower the volume. I want you to hear clearly, but not loud enough for anyone to hear that walks by.”
“Who am I calling?”
“No one. I will call you in a couple minutes. Put it on speakerphone when I call then be completely silent. Lock the door when I leave so no one can come in while you’re on the phone.” She walks out. I lock the door.
I stare at the phone until it rings. I pick up without a word. “Listen closely and don’t make a sound,” she says. I don’t respond. “Taylor, answer me.”
“Oh, yeah. I thought… never mind. I’m ready.” I feel super sneaky, like a spy Shortly after, I begin to hear people talking off in the
distance. Then a door closes and the voices are audible.
Cassidy starts talking. “I got your email that your sister and her husband won’t be able to make it. Is everything okay?”
A raspy female voice answers. “You’re going to be let down if you’re anticipating everyone to show up. My sister requires advanced notice along with strong encouraging to leave the house at all nowadays.”
“So they aren’t ill?”
“You know how she is. “Flu season is going to be the worst anyone’s seen,” she told me. Maybe she’d come if I would’ve been allowed more time to talk her into it.”
“I didn’t have a say in that decision,” Cassidy tells her.
“That’s not what I was told.”
“Who told you otherwise?”
The phone is silent. I press the button to maximize the volume, still silent.
“Alright,” Cassidy succeeds. “I’m pressing because it would have been a big help having them here. Your brother-in-law wouldn’t be able to steal away for the day?”
“Sipe, you know he only goes where she goes. Push the event back a couple of weeks, give me leave to go to them, and they will be here.”
“That’s not possible.”
“Then they aren’t coming.” The raspy voice walks away from the phone because when she speaks again she’s far away. “Was there anything else?”
“That was it,” Cassidy tells her. The door opens and closes. The tiny light on my phone goes black.
Cassidy retrieves me from the meeting room without a word. We return to her office. “What’s the verdict?” she asks me as we take our seats.
“She didn’t lie about her sister not wanting to come. The biggest thing I caught was your lie.”
Her brow furrows. “What did I lie about?”
“You were a big part of making those decisions.”
“Oh, right.”
“She did lie about her brother-in-law.”
Cassidy perks up. “About what?”
