by Mary McCoy
“We only need four for a quorum,” Livia said. “Ty’s on his way. And your counsel should be here in a moment, too.”
“Yeah, about that . . . ,” Soren said, sounding doubtful.
“Zelda may be a freshman, but trust me, she’s very capable.”
Augustus murmured in agreement, but I’m not sure Soren was any more convinced than I was. I didn’t even know why Soren was there, but already, the whole thing smelled like an ambush.
If you were accused of an Honor Code violation, you were assigned counsel from someone on the Honor Council itself. That person would conduct the investigation and plead your case. There were eight Honor Council members, so this also guaranteed that there was never a tie when the full Council convened.
That Soren should come to trial on the last day of school before Thanksgiving break, his case heard by the smallest possible assembly of Honor Council members, and that his assigned counsel was not just a freshman, but Zelda Parsons, who followed Livia around like a tail—the whole thing seemed suspicious enough that I decided I owed it to the historical record to stay where I was.
Well, yes, and technically, I was trapped—thank you for pointing that out—but what I’m trying to say is that even before testimony began, I knew it was important that I stay there and witness. Investigate. Eavesdrop. Spy.
There are a lot of ways to say it. Some of them sound nicer than others.
Soon, Ty and Zelda came into the faculty lounge together and I heard some chairs being shuffled around, and then Augustus called to order this session of the Honor Council convened to hear the charges against Soren Bieckmann brought forth by an unnamed party in the name of upholding the Honor Code of the Imperial Day Academy.
Augustus’s whole voice changed when he said this. As stuffy and old-fashioned as the words he spoke were, there was no chuckle in his voice, no sardonic humor. It didn’t sound like he was reading the words off a page either. He’d memorized them. What’s more, you could tell he believed them.
“Counselor, please read the charges,” Livia said.
Zelda cleared her throat and I could almost see her pushing up the horn-rimmed glasses on her nose.
“That on November 15, Soren Bieckmann did participate in lewd conduct on school grounds, and that on the same evening, he witnessed Honor Code violations perpetrated by others, including trespassing, harassment, and vandalism of school property, but did not come forward to report them.”
Immediately, I knew what this hearing was about. Like Ms. Yee, I can also be very good with dates when I have to be. I knew exactly where Soren had been on November 15 and exactly what he’d done because I’d been there, too.
The whole thing was put into motion after the dress rehearsal for Little Shop of Horrors. Soren came up to Lola Stephenson, who was playing Audrey, and told her that there was going to be a thing after opening night of the show. I was standing right there, and he made no effort to lower his voice. I’d been laying down strips of glow-in-the-dark tape because the idiots on props crew kept wheeling Audrey II out to the wrong spot on the stage.
Lola shot a pointed look in my direction and shushed Soren, who shrugged and said, “It’s okay. Claudia’s cool.”
I shrugged back, like it didn’t matter what I’d heard, or whether I was or wasn’t cool.
The plan Soren described to Lola was that the cast and crew would sneak back into the school after the show for a party on the stage. And at this party, with each hour that passed, certain items of clothing would become optional.
Lola laughed and told Soren he was insane if he thought she—or anyone—would go to something like that, but there was something about the way her eyes followed Soren as he walked away that made me wonder if she was thinking about it. As he walked past me, Soren said, “You’re invited, too, Claudia.”
The tips of my ears turned pink and my cheeks burned at the idea of me, C-C-C-Claudia, attending a party like that.
Of course, Soren was clever. The Honor Council had been keeping an ear out for any rumors of another party at his house, but they would never suspect musical theater dorks of anything as racy as an after-hours nude soiree at the Esther Pico Memorial Theatre. And the musical theater dorks would be so shocked and titillated to receive such an invitation that they wouldn’t have dreamed of missing it.
I can see that you’re shocked. I was, too. Even on the day of opening night, I couldn’t believe I was actually going to go through with it. I brought Julia along with me for moral support even though she wasn’t part of the cast or crew. She thought the whole thing was hilarious, half because I was so twitchy about it and half because the idea of me engaging in such flagrant rule-breaking blew her mind.
“Soren Bieckmann is a terrible influence on you. Next you’ll be sniffing glue in the green room.”
Despite Julia’s prediction, the whole thing was far less scandalous than you might have expected. Once the idea of disrobing onstage in front of everyone became a reality, people found themselves far less enthusiastic about actually doing it. And like I said, we’re talking about musical theater people here. You never saw such an assemblage of virgins in your life.
I never had any evidence that the Naked Cast Party was Soren’s idea. All I know is that he spread the word about it. In any case, when the clock struck eleven, the hour at which the first article of clothing was supposed to be removed, nobody except Soren did anything.
Soren put his money where his mouth was and took off his pants, but he was wearing a long button-down shirt that hung to his mid-thigh. Still, he seemed to enjoy himself and took to sliding across the stage in his sock feet, pantsless and carefree. A couple of girls took off their shirts, but they were wearing bathing suits underneath because they planned to break into the Imperial Day swimming pool for a midnight dip. Everybody else went about their business fully clothed and more than a little relieved.
The only person who seemed genuinely upset about the turn of events was Cal (Who had thought inviting him was a good idea?), who stormed around the stage in nothing but his boxers and the white dentist’s coat that he wore in the play, nagging anyone who would listen to join him. At first, he was sort of funny about it, dancing around and making lascivious faces as he pretended to play with his nipples. But as the evening wore on, he began to sulk, angry that the party hadn’t descended into the orgy he’d been hoping for. It was then that his antics became more unpleasant.
“Come on,” he whined as he danced up to Lola Stephenson, who had made an appearance after all.
“‘Come on’ what?” Lola asked with a scowl.
“It’s after eleven. Come on. At least unbutton your shirt,” he said.
“No.”
“If you were going to be such a prude, why’d you even show up?” Cal asked with a snarl.
“I’m not a prude,” Lola said, as if that was the point that needed debating.
Eventually, Cal left with a freshman from the makeup crew who didn’t know any better.
As for the rest of the party, some extras broke into the swimming pool. Two people hooked up inside the giant Audrey II plant. Soren tossed his pants up over a lighting rig, where, for all I know, they may still be to this day. That was the closest thing to vandalism that I saw.
Zelda related this information more or less, though she left out a couple of things I mentioned and added a couple of things I didn’t.
“That’s all I have,” she said at last.
There was a long silence, then I heard Augustus say, “Would you like to add anything on your own behalf, Soren?”
Soren answered in his unperturbable surfer drawl, but there was just a hint of something else in his voice. Was he hurt? Or angry? I couldn’t tell.
“Why me?” he asked. “I know you’re just doing your job, but is this something personal?”
There was an edge in Augustus’s tone when he answered. “You know the Honor Council is never personal.”
“Because it feels personal,” Soren added. “There we
re lots of other people there. People who did way worse things than me. In fact, I didn’t actually do anything wrong.”
“It’s like a speeding ticket,” Livia said, in this super-condescending way. “Even if everybody else was going ninety, you’re the one who got pulled over.”
In the storage closet, I rolled my eyes.
“But why me?” he asked.
Because you’re the most prolific drug dealer at Imperial Day, I thought. Because the last time you had a party, the Honor Council president and vice president showed up on a surveillance mission. Because they’ve been trying to find something to pin on you since the school year began.
“Is there anything else you’d like to add?” Ty asked. It was the first thing he’d said since the hearing had begun, and it was clear that the answer he most wanted to hear was No! All done here! Go home and watch young men get concussions on television! Or football! Or whatever you call it!
“This isn’t fair,” Soren said.
“Your points have been noted,” Augustus said, gently. “Believe me, we’re taking everything you said into consideration during our deliberations.”
Deliberations, I thought. Shit.
It wasn’t like they were going to do that in front of Soren. Would they send him out into the hall? Or would they adjourn to the storage room and find me huddled by the door? I pressed myself into a corner behind a bookshelf. It would hide me if someone opened the door and took a quick peek inside, but if anyone came in, they’d find me immediately. And if I was found, I was finished, Maisie or no Maisie.
I heard footsteps, then a click as the faculty lounge door closed. Then Augustus sighed.
“I don’t like this,” he said.
I felt my heartbeat slow down as I realized that they’d sent Soren out into the hallway. As long as I didn’t knock over a stack of books or have an asthma attack, I was safe.
“He confessed,” Livia said. “It feels pretty cut-and-dried to me.”
“But he’s right. Why him? It’s not like he went to the party by himself. Why aren’t we calling in anyone else?”
“Because he’s the name we got, and he confessed,” Livia said, her voice full of acid. “Unless you want to track down every single person who was there. Unless you think that would be a good use of Honor Council time.”
Augustus might have been in charge of the Honor Council, but I doubted that he made a habit of contradicting Livia.
“How do we even sentence something like this?” he asked.
Ty chimed in right away. This must have been the part of Honor Council he relished most, the part where you got to dole out punishments. “Probation for failing to report. And for the lewd conduct, we could go as high as expulsion.”
“He didn’t do anything lewd,” Augustus said, sounding exasperated.
“He took off his pants,” Livia said. “Again, pretty straightforward.”
“But was there anything really lewd about it?” said Augustus.
“Does there have to be?” Livia countered.
Ty cleared his throat. “What if we arrived at a compromise?”
I almost snorted. If Ty had come up with that idea—with that sentence—on his own, I’d voluntarily live in the storage closet for a week with only yellowed copies of The Epic of Gilgamesh for entertainment and nourishment.
The entire hearing was a farce. Lewd conduct? Even Augustus seemed skeptical about that. He was too honorable to go looking for trifling non-offenses to pin on someone he didn’t like.
But Livia wasn’t.
Livia, I thought. Livia must have told Ty to suggest the compromise.
But why?
Ty continued. “We dismiss the lewd-behavior charge and deliver a more severe sentence than usual for failure to report. Maybe a week’s suspension?”
There was a pause before Augustus said, “That seems very harsh. The punishment for failure to report a violation is probation.”
“This isn’t the first time Soren’s violated the Honor Code. It’s just the first time we’ve caught him at it,” Livia said, leaping to Ty’s defense.
“He’s not on trial for his reputation,” Augustus said. But he didn’t sound in control now. He sounded cornered, two against one. And even if Zelda could have weighed in, I doubted she would have joined his side. “And think about it. If we suspend him for this, and he’s brought up on any other charges in the future, he could be expelled, no matter how small the charge.”
Livia sighed. “Augustus, he’s basically a drug dealer and he doesn’t belong at Imperial Day.”
Now we came to the truth of it. Livia and Ty were pushing for their so-called “compromise” because they wanted Soren gone. In Livia’s mind, there were two kinds of people at Imperial Day: people who deserved to be there, and people who didn’t—the right kind of people and the wrong kind of people—and unfortunately for the latter group, Livia actually had the power to carry out her vision, one problem student at a time.
“It sets a dangerous precedent,” Augustus said. “I wish the rest of the council was here. This seems like something we should all discuss.”
“We can. We should,” Livia said, placating him. How could Augustus not see that he was playing right into her hand? I wondered where the other Honor Council members were, if Livia and Ty had even told them about Soren’s hearing at all. Where was Maisie in all of this?
“Can we delay the judgment and sentence until all of us can convene?” Augustus asked, sounding hopeful.
“Not a good idea,” Ty said.
“Why not?”
“Because of Thanksgiving.”
A master orator that one, a regular Winston Churchill.
“We don’t want it hanging over his head for the whole holiday break,” Livia broke in. “Soren will worry. He’ll think he’s getting expelled or something. It’s cruel. Especially since the sentence isn’t that serious.”
“You have a point,” Augustus said finally. “How about three days’ suspension for failing to report the Honor Code violations?”
“I can live with that,” Ty said.
“It seems light,” Livia said, “but I can live with it, too.”
I could hear the triumph in her voice, and I knew then that she’d gotten exactly what she’d wanted.
Like I said, Soren was clever. No one had ever managed to catch him at anything really big, but now that Livia and Ty had gotten him sentenced to a short suspension, they’d never have to. The next time Soren slipped up—and any tiny slip-up would do—he’d be expelled from Imperial Day. He was a hunted man.
They called Soren back in and told him what they’d decided. He seemed to take it in stride, especially when they told him he could serve the suspension immediately after Thanksgiving break, giving him a full week off school. Still, as he was leaving, I heard him pause in the doorway, then ask, “What’s up with this, Augustus? I didn’t do anything and you know it. Not this time. What’d I ever do to you?”
“Nothing,” Augustus said. “But someone turned you in. You know how it works. We have to investigate that shit.”
“Who was it?”
“You know I can’t tell you that.”
As I heard the door close behind Soren, I wondered who had reported him to the Honor Council, and why. Was it Lola? She’d seemed leery of the naked party from the start, and I’d heard rumors that she was considering running for the Honor Council in the spring. But why would she report on Soren and not Cal? Or was Cal so pissed off about not getting to see the naked girl parts to which he believed himself entitled that he decided to get someone punished for it?
On top of everything else, where was the rest of the Honor Council? There was no Maisie, no Marcus. There was no sign of the other two non-entities on the Honor Council, a freshman named Jesse Nichols and a sophomore named Rebecca Ibañez, neither of whom seemed likely to win reelection, at least not if Livia had anything to say about it.
Jesse Nichols was a moron, everyone knew that, but Rebecca Ibañez’s ex
clusion from the Honor Council lunch table seemed like a more calculated snub. I knew Rebecca was on scholarship. She wasn’t popular exactly, but she was smart and serious and political—she talked about things like fair housing and labor unions and la raza, things that most people at Imperial Day didn’t know the first thing about. I don’t know exactly what Livia had against her, but she rolled her eyes every time Rebecca’s name was mentioned. When she made doleful complaints at the lunch table about how the Honor Council “would be able to do so much more if all of us were on the same page,” even I knew who she was talking about. It went back to the people who belonged at Imperial Day and the people who didn’t. The right kind of people and the wrong kind of people.
Livia never would have pointed to the scholarship or the Latina pride or the political activism as things that made Rebecca the wrong kind of person. She didn’t have to. All she had to do was roll her eyes. All she had to do was keep Rebecca out of those lunch table meetings where the Honor Council’s core talked business and forged allegiances.
It wasn’t hard to guess why Jesse and Rebecca had been iced out of the hearing, but I didn’t understand why Maisie and Marcus weren’t there. They were Livia and Augustus’s best friends, respectively. They were the inner circle.
Then, just when I was sure that Augustus was about to adjourn the Honor Council meeting and leave me alone in the storage closet with my speculations, I heard the door creak open and a familiar voice that made my heart sink.
“Hey, guys, what’s going on? Is this some kind of joke?” Julia asked.
“No,” said Augustus, and there was no friendliness there, no warmth, no acknowledgment of the fact that Julia had dated his best friend for almost two years.
Shit, I thought, and combed my brain for something, anything, that Julia might have done to be called before the Honor Council. I had my suspicions. There was the flask of bourbon she hid in her locker (one-week suspension). She’d forged excuses for the times she missed first period because she was hung over (two-week suspension). She’d hooked up with Soren Bieckmann in the light booth at the Esther Pico Memorial Theatre naked party, even though I knew she didn’t want me to know. (After Soren’s sentence, who even knew what kind of punishment they’d decide on for that?)
