The Academy - First Days (Year One, Book Two) (The Academy Series)

by C. L. Stone

  I sighed, feeling better that he was done yelling. I wrapped my arms around his neck to hug back. “I’m sorry, North.”

  He stiffened against me as if surprised by this but he embraced me tighter and let go. “Get out of here before I ground you, too.”

  Luke had my book bag and handed it to me. I hauled it to my shoulders. I waved to Silas and North. Silas waved. North only nodded, that half smile playing on the corner of his mouth. He shook his head at us and turned, heading back to the church.

  Luke caught my hand and we walked together through the darkness toward the woods. We followed the short cut that led to my back yard. I was expecting him to let go of my hand at some point but he never did. His fingers intertwined with mine. I was grateful he was right there next to me. After the argument, I was worried as he’d been so quiet that maybe he was mad at me, too.

  “We got a lot done today,” he said. I couldn’t make out the features in his face in the dark and it felt strange to be able to hear his voice but not see him. “We make a good team.”

  I smiled to myself that he changed the subject. I didn’t want to talk about the fight any more. “I’m just happy I could keep up,” I said, blowing out a breath. “You guys work hard.”

  “We do what we have to,” he said.

  We made it to my back yard. I expected him to leave me there and walk back but he held on to me as I moved forward in the yard.

  “I don’t think I should bring you to the door,” I said, though I was sorry to have to say so.

  “You were going to use the door?” he asked. “Maybe I should help you up.” He tilted his head toward the second floor. “You can sneak in and pretend you’ve been there the whole time, right?”

  I blushed. “Well, yes, but...”

  He pulled at my hand and I stumbled after him. We slipped through the yard and toward the back porch. The back porch was screened in, and the roof was lower to the ground than anywhere else. He tilted his head, looking up at the ledge. “I’ll boost you up.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Come on,” he said. He moved forward, letting go of my hand so he could bend and put his hands together to make a spot for my foot. “You won’t fall. I’m right here.”

  Even with my heart thumping and my legs shaking, he managed to push me up over his head until I could slide half of my body up and drag myself until I was completely on top of the roof. I turned around to look down at him, intending to wave and tell him I could make it from here.

  Luke had stepped back. He dashed forward, grasped the edge of the roof and nearly bounced off the frame of the screens on the porch. Luke landed on his knees next to me. I caught the outline of his lips turning into a smile as he looked at me. “Don’t tell anyone I know how to do that.”

  “What?” I asked. “Fly? I didn’t even see you climb up.”

  He laughed. “I wish I could fly. Would make getting to school a breeze.” He stood up on the roof and reached down to grab my arm and hauling me up next to him. “Let’s get you inside.”

  I followed close to him as we crossed over the roof, climbing to where North and I had spread out a couple of nights ago. From there, I pointed to where I remembered North taking me. Luke led the way up over the apex and down the other side to my window.

  I peeked in. My light was on but no one was inside. The door looked locked to me.

  “I think we’re good,” I said to him. “I don’t think anyone came to check on me.”

  He moved around on the roof, looking inside my room. He pressed his palms against the window and pushed it until it started to slide open. He grunted when it got stuck half way. “I need to fix your window,” he said. “Remind me.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “We need to if this becomes a habit,” he said, pushing at the window. It slowly shuddered up all the way. “And I think it will be.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at the idea of him already thinking of next time.

  He moved out of the way and held on to my hand as I angled myself into my room. I had expected him to say goodbye at the window but I turned in time to see him put a foot down on the carpet and slink into my room.

  My breath caught in my throat. The moment he was inside, I grabbed his arm, putting a finger to my lips to motion to him to be quiet. I listened for noises. I heard my father downstairs talking in the kitchen. Music flowed from a radio in Marie’s bedroom. I didn’t hear my mother but she could have still been passed out.

  After a moment, I nodded to Luke. No one was paying attention to us. I crossed the room, turning the music on my stereo up a notch. It would drown out our noise but it wasn’t loud enough that I couldn’t still hear footsteps on the stairs or Marie coming from across the hall.

  Luke was on his knees on the mauve carpet looking curiously at the half-sized door. “What’s this?” he whispered.

  “Attic space,” I said.

  He hooked his fingers on the handle and opened it. His eyes squinted as he gazed into the darkness. He stuck his head inside.

  I moved behind him, putting my hand on his back before he disappeared too far. “It goes on for a little way and there’s this platform at the end,” I said. “When I call you guys, I’m usually back there.”

  “It’s hot,” he said. “Is there a light?”

  “I use the phone’s light.”

  “We could hook up something for you,” he said. He backed himself out and shut the door. His head twisted toward the stereo. “What are you playing?”

  My eyebrows shot up. My heart thundered. I wasn’t sure how long he should stay. Here was a shirtless guy in my bedroom and snooping around. “Just a disc I burned from the computer, a mix of rock and classical and other things.”

  He stood up, starting to head toward the stereo. I wanted to say maybe he should go but at the same time I didn’t want to kick him out as I liked him being around. It was nerve wracking.

  Once he was further into my bedroom, he turned around again, considering everything else. I blushed as his eyes settled on the mostly-empty, small bookshelf and my bed pushed over to the side of the room. They were the only two real pieces of furniture.

  “Where’s all your stuff?” he asked. His eyes flicked to the trunk near my window. “What’s in that?”

  I shrugged. “Just some notebooks and some old things, clothes that don’t really fit any more.”

  “Don’t you have posters? Or magazines? Or you know... whatever girls have in their bedrooms?”

  My cheeks warmed. I wasn’t sure how to answer the question. I wasn’t exactly sure what he expected me to have. I read books when I could get my hands on them. There wasn’t much else I could think of to put in my room. What else was there?

  He didn’t seem to notice I hadn’t responded. He headed to the closet, opening the door and peeking inside. His eyes flicked through my hanging clothes. “No dresser. No desk. You’ve only got like what, three pairs of shoes? What kind of girl are you?”

  “I’ve got what I need.”

  He rolled his eyes and closed my closet door. He crossed to my bedroom door, unlocked it and peeked out into the hallway.

  “Luke!” I gasped, going up behind him. “Don’t...”

  “Shhh,” he whispered. He tilted his head toward the door across the hallway. “That’s Marie’s room, right?”

  “Yes,” I whispered back. I reached for his arm, tugging at him. “Don’t get caught.”

  He stepped out into the hallway. I thought my heart was going to explode. He edged to the top of the stairwell that lead toward the front of the house. He looked down, angling his head to see as far as he could. He tiptoed across the hallway, checking the back stairwell. He opened the hall closet door. He opened the next door, the upstairs bathroom, looking inside quickly and closing again.

  My fingers were over my mouth. I couldn’t breathe. What in the world was he doing? If my mom could see this, I couldn’t imagine what she would do to me.

  He turned again a
nd crossed the hall to my bedroom. I meant to step out of the way but his arm hooked around my waist and he pulled me back into the room, closing the door behind himself. Once he was inside, he let go and crossed the room to my bed. He sat on top of it, leaning back on his hands.

  I sat down next to him, unsure of what else to do. It was a relief that he was back inside, but I was worried someone had heard him and would come up to check out what was going on. What was worse was my heart was beating so loud in my ears, I couldn’t be sure I would hear footsteps.

  Once I was sitting next to him though, I felt even more awkward. I rubbed my fingertips at the edge of his shirt that I was wearing. “I’ll give this back,” I said to him, mostly as a distraction for something to say.

  “Keep it,” he said. He relaxed back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. “It looks good on you.”

  We fell into silence. Each movement, every creak of the house and I was panicking that it was someone on the stairs or out in the hallway. “Luke?” I whispered. I wanted to say something to remind him that Silas and his brother were probably waiting on him, but I wasn’t sure how to put it.

  He sighed and he got up, leaning his shoulder against mine. “Okay, I would die if I had to sit in here all day long. How are you still sane?”

  I smiled, shaking my head. “Your diagnosis is questionable.”

  He laughed softly, reaching out to a stray lock of blond hair hanging at his head and pushing it behind his ear. He stood up, hit the eject button on my stereo and pulled the CD from the top. “I’m stealing this.”

  I blinked at him and stood to reach for the disc. I tried to remember if there was anything super girly or perhaps even embarrassing for anyone else to listen to. Would he think I was a nerd for liking some of the classical pieces or would he tease me about some of the lesser known bands I had put on it? “You’re taking my stuff.”

  He held the disc over his head and out of my reach. “I said I was,” he said, grinning. “You can’t hold it against me if I tell you ahead of time.”

  “Sang!” my mother shouted from downstairs.

  I gulped, blushing. Luke froze. I waved him toward the window. Time for him to go.

  He started toward the window. He slipped the CD between his lips, swung his leg out and climbed onto the roof.

  I stuck my head out. He knelt down until his face was close to mine.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispered to me.

  “See you,” I said.

  He smiled to me, passed a finger across my cheek and stood up, slinking back the way we had come over the roof.

  I took one more look around my room as if to assure myself there wasn’t another boy or something he left behind. I smoothed a palm over my hair and went for my bedroom door, opening it and dashed down the stairs.

  My mother’s bedroom was empty. I found her in the kitchen. She was bent over in the fridge, pulling out a package of grapes and a bottle of water. Her maroon robe was crumpled as if she’d been sleeping in it. I wondered where my father had gone but a moment later I heard clacking at the keyboard at the computer in the family room. He was working.

  “Yes?” I asked softly.

  She spun, holding her food and water to her chest. “Where have you been?” Her lackluster blue gray eyes passed over me and she turned away to yank a paper towel from the holder against the wall.

  I blinked at her. She didn’t notice my shirt or the bruises on my face. “Upstairs.”

  “I called you for dinner. You were ignoring me.”

  “Oh,” I said. “I had music on. I fell asleep for a while.”

  Her eyes fixed on the ceiling. Her cracked lips pursed. “Do you think I’m stupid? Why are you lying?”

  I blinked at her. “I was just upstairs and came down.”

  Her eyes narrowed at me. She marched over to the hall closet and pulled out a wooden bar stool. She pulled it to the middle of the kitchen and pointed to it. “Sit,” she commanded.

  I swallowed. I hated the stool. I was sore already from the hours of working, too. I said nothing, moving across the floor to perch on the stool. The flat part bit into my butt as it was hard and uncomfortable. I put my feet on the cross slats between the legs.

  “Stay right here,” she said.

  “It’s late. I’ve got school,” I said.

  She ignored me and went back to her bedroom.

  I sighed. It hurt but it wasn’t kneeling in rice.

  A footstep sounded behind me and I twisted in my seat. Luke stood in the living room archway. His head tilted, puzzled.

  I gasped and covered my mouth with my fist. I silently yelled at him with a glare. Get out! Are you crazy? What are you doing here?

  He put a fingertip to his lips, motioning to me to keep quiet.

  Well no duh. I couldn’t whisper. I couldn’t think of how to tell him to get out of here. I tried spelling it with sign language, “Go! You’ll get caught.” He was a smart Academy student, he’d figure it out.

  His eyebrows raised and he grinned. He flashed some sign language but I didn’t know any words.

  I shook my head, spelling to him. “I only know the alphabet.”

  He spelled out, “Where did you learn?”

  This wasn’t the time to talk about it! I spelled, “You can’t stay. She might come back.”

  He smirked at me, a blond lock falling away from his ear and hanging in his eyes. He stepped further into the kitchen. He was barefoot. He did a circle around me, tiptoeing and testing the floor for creaks. He started down the hallway toward my mom’s bedroom and the staircase. I gulped, pushing my palms to my cheeks. He couldn’t be serious thinking he was going to poke around. I swallowed, my heart thundering in my throat, listening for what I was sure was the inevitable discovery and the chaos that would happen when it did.

  Luke returned via the living room again after making a full circle. He took a quick peek in at the family room. I waited for my father to see him but Luke pulled back. He seemed at ease with sneaking around. He tiptoed back into the kitchen and held out the pink cell phone to me. I blinked at him, confused and checked the phone for messages.

  Luke: “How long do you have to sit there for?”

  I sighed, pursing my lips and typing in a message for him.

  Sang: “Until she lets me go.”

  He jumped up until he was sitting on top of the counter near the sink. He held his cell phone in his hands and typed in a message.

  Luke: “Why not get up now? She’s not paying attention.”

  Sang: “She could come back. If I’m not here, it’ll be worse.”

  Luke: “Will she make you drink vinegar again?”

  Sang: “Maybe. I don’t know.”

  He frowned. He typed something else into his phone and put it aside.

  I twisted my lips, confused, frustrated, scared to death. Since my phone didn’t rattle, the message wasn’t for me. I typed into the phone.

  Sang: “Why aren’t you leaving?”

  He checked the phone, smirked but put it down, not answering me.

  I spelled with my fingers, “Stop sitting there. North is waiting for you.”

  Luke smirked at me, signing, “Not anymore.”

  No matter what I said, Luke refused to leave. He would sign or text me to say something or ask a question. He pawed through the cabinets for food. He brought me water and crackers and found an apple to eat for himself. On occasion, he’d slink away, as silent as a whisper, and trek into other parts of the house.

  He was there for at least two hours. No matter how many times I begged, he refused to leave me behind.

  Luke: “You’re one of us.”

  He repeated it often. It became too frustrating to try to convince him to leave.

  I got texts from some of the others, too.

  North: “I found your shirt. You left it in the kitchen.”

  Sang: “Hang on to it for me?”

  North: “Will do.”

  Nathan: “I’m bored and my body h
urts and I can’t move and this sucks and my back hurts and I’m hungry.”

  Sang: “Get better. We’ll hang out then.”

  Nathan: “I want taco soup. Come rub some of this lotion on my back again. I can’t reach.”

  Sang: “Are you coming to school tomorrow?”

  Nathan: “No promises.”

  Gabriel: “You weren’t supposed to leave your house. I’ve been texting you all afternoon. I thought you were in trouble.”

  Sang: “I was with North and the others. I’m sorry I forgot my phone.”

  Gabriel: “How’s your face?”

  Sang: “Fine. How’s your nose? Are you hurting?”

  Gabriel: “I’m fucking peachy. Next time listen to me, will you?”

  Sang: “Sorry.”

  Gabriel: “Stop apologizing. It makes it harder to be mad at you.”

  Sang: “I don’t like it when you’re mad at me. So I’m sorry.”

  Gabriel: “You’re still grounded.”

  Sang: “Thanks again for the violin. It’s beautiful.”

  Victor: “Get good at it and we’ll play together sometime.”

  Sang: “I still haven’t heard you play.”

  Victor: “Soon.”

  After a few hours, I was rocking on the stool, sore, uncomfortable and embarrassed. I wanted to get my mother’s attention and get this over with.

  Steps echoed in the house. Someone was coming. My eyes shot to Luke, he nodded, slipped into the living room and disappeared.

  My father came into the kitchen. His eyelids drooped. He’d finished up work and was heading to bed. When he spotted me on the stool, his head tilted at me in confusion. Did he get a haircut? I couldn’t tell. There were more gray hairs at his temples, though. And what did I know? I never saw him.

  “What happened?” he asked me.

  “I came down when she called me,” I said flatly. He’d been here the whole time and he now just noticed?

  He raised an eyebrow. “Is that it?”

  “She thought I was lying to her when I said I came from my bedroom.”