Orientation Week

by Ruby Vincent

  I said nothing. There was nothing I could say. She would not hear a word in his defense and it wasn’t as though I could defend a man I didn’t know. My mother’s hatred of the guy who abandoned her had warped her entire being. I wish I could have known the person Aunt Beverly said she was before I came along, but I would never know that woman like I had never known my father.

  Mom’s face cleared as she got herself under control. She came around the desk to face me. “I think your plan is inspired, Zela,” she said as she perched on the edge of the desk. “But your focus should be on your schoolwork, not on my book.” She tapped my forehead. “Mind and body, Zela. That is your power.”

  No, I’m losing her. I have to think of something.

  “I agree, Mom, but...” I quickly cast for another reason. “But I can’t develop my mind at Chesterfield. They don’t offer the math classes I need. Only Breakbattle does. This way, I can take advantage of their resources and use them just like they use the students.”

  Her expression morphed. The usual determined set to her chin shifted as she frowned. “Goodness. Chesterfield doesn’t have the classes you need?”

  I shook my head.

  “And it’s over two hours to the nearest community college,” Mom continued, mostly to herself. “I can’t allow you to receive a subpar education, but Breakbattle is such a loathsome school.” She swore. “This must be what all the other families face. They don’t want to be part of their charade, but it’s either that or their children go to the underfunded local schools.”

  “It’s how they’ve been getting away with it,” I pressed. I didn’t want to overdo it, but Mom needed to keep going in the right direction. “If I go as a boy, it could make a difference for me and the community. Maybe more people will push to mix the classes.”

  Mom was nodding along as my words washed over her. “Yes, yes.” She stood up and patted my shoulder. “Let me think about it, Zela. I’ll have an answer for you by tomorrow.”

  I inclined my head. “Thank you, Mom.”

  Mom was seated in front of her laptop by the time I backed out of the door. I waited until I was safely in my room before I let the smile break out on my face. I didn’t have to wait until tomorrow. I knew my mom. I was going to Breakbattle Academy.

  Chapter Two

  “I still can’t believe you did it!” The knob rattled. “Will you hurry up? I want to see!”

  “Give me a minute, Jordan.” I stood before the mirror, trying to make sense of my reflection. The changes weren’t drastic, but yet I was looking at a completely different person.

  Mom had been on board with the idea of me shaving my head, but I opted for a wig instead. It matched my hair color but hung down low over my forehead to conceal my plucked eyebrows. It was the clothes though that afforded the biggest change. It was amazing how switching out a dress and a pair of heels for a long-sleeved tee and a plain shirt had effectively switched me out for someone else.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  “Zela Manning, get out here now!”

  Groaning, I whirled away from the mirror and yanked open the door on my irritating cousin. Her mouth fell open.

  “Oh my gosh,” she breathed. “I’m a genius.”

  “Taking all the credit, I see.”

  “I deserve the credit. I’m the one who picked out your clothes and your wig. Unsurprisingly, you don’t have a clue how the average American guy dresses.”

  “I pick up one beanie and you think I’m hopeless.”

  I brushed past her and made for my bed. The past month since I moved in had seen this bare space transformed into the bedroom I always wanted. Photos and trinkets from my travels decorated the walls and almost every available surface. My bed was decked out in pink silk sheets that perfectly matched the pink rug and desk chair.

  I had put so much effort into getting my first real bedroom the way I wanted it and now I would have to leave.

  “I can’t believe I’m off to boarding school today.” I bent and picked up a black duffle bag at the foot of my bed. My new clothes covered my bedspread. There was even a mound of boxers as a result of Jordan getting carried away.

  Jordan flopped down on my pile of white tees. “At least you only have to stay there Monday through Friday. You’ll come home every weekend and tell me about the hot guys you’re bringing back to your dorm.”

  I rolled my eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you this isn’t about picking up guys?”

  She flapped a hand. “Yeah, yeah. I know about your mission, but may I remind you, you’re a willing young virgin about to step into a den of boys.” Jordan’s eyes glittered as her fantasies worked overtime. “You’ll be sleeping in their dorm. You’ll be eating with them. You’ll be in their locker room.”

  I stiffened, cheeks heating up. A month of planning for this and the words “locker room” hadn’t crossed my mind until that moment.

  Jordan must have picked up my panic because she got even more gleeful. “You poor little homeschooler. You didn’t think about that, did you? You’ll be seeing all that manflesh.”

  “There won’t be any manflesh!” I squeaked. “I’ve seen the website. They have private showers.”

  Her smile didn’t go anywhere. “In the dorms, cuz. Not in the gym. One of my friends has an older sister that got into Breakbattle. I pumped her for info and, let me just say, I’m jealous.”

  I ducked my head, letting my new hair fall over my eyes as I shoved my clothes into the duffle bag. This was not good. I hadn’t even set foot on the campus and I had already run into a problem.

  “What am I going to do?” I whispered.

  “What did I just say?” She shoved my shoulder. “Willing young virgin, you’re going to partake.”

  “I’m not going to— Who said— I’m not willing!” I finally got out. “No one is partaking in anything. They can’t know I’m a girl or they’ll kick me over to the girls’ side of the campus. I’ll just have to think of an excuse to stay out of the locker room.”

  She waved that away. “Sweetie, I’m sure your boyfriends will keep your secret. They wouldn’t want you to be kicked off campus either. When you stay at my place over the weekends, you’ll tell me all about them.”

  Despite myself, I laughed. “Them? Now I’ve gone from a virgin to running multiple secret boyfriends? You need to slow down on the fantasies, Jordan. I told you this isn’t about guys.”

  She plugged her ears. “I’m not listening to you,” she half-shouted. “You’re not ruining this for me. If Mom hadn’t shut me down, I’d be buttoning up my blazer and joining you.”

  As if summoned, Aunt Bev’s voice sounded on the other side of my door. “...nonsense. I can’t believe you’re letting her do this!”

  “She’s my daughter, Beverly,” I heard Mom say. “I happen to think this will be a great learning experience for her in more ways than one.”

  “That’s a load of crock!” My door banged open, making me jump. Beverly stormed into the bedroom with my mom on her heels. She took one look at me in my new getup and her eyes bugged out. “Zee, for the love of all that’s good! Why are you doing this?”

  “This is the only way I can take the classes I need, Auntie.” The lie fell from my lips so easily now. “Plus, I can show Breakbattle up. It’s not cool how they separate the boys and girls.”

  Of course, it wasn’t, but my need to be at this school was much bigger than that. I had to go even if it meant incurring Aunt Bev’s disapproval.

  “No, it’s not,” she agreed, “but they have their reasons and you don’t need to go this far to prove they’re wrong.”

  My mom stepped forward. “Beverly, that’s enough.” She held out her hand. “Give me the keys and I’ll take her there myself.”

  “Not a chance, Brenda. I’ve still got a half-hour car ride to talk her out of this foolishness and I’m taking full advantage of it. If you don’t like it, you should have gotten your own car.” She turned and marched out.

  Huffing, Mom went
after her. “I will get my own car. I...”

  Jordan shook her head at the empty doorway. “It’s hard to believe those two are related. You and I are much better at this sister thing.”

  I held back a smile. Jordan did feel like my sister at times. Of all the friends I had made on the road, she was the only one to answer every video chat and sit and talk with me for hours. Those friends had faded from my life, but Jordan stuck around. Some might think it was because she was family, but I’ve come across all sorts of families from all over the world and plenty of them were more than happy to ignore their relatives. Jordan really cared. She cared so much she still supported me even though she knew what really happened the day after I moved into my new home... and what I planned to do about it.

  My jeans crumpled in my fists as a surge of pain and anger choked me. Focus, Zela. Channel this into something useful.

  “Help me with this,” I croaked. “Orientation starts at eight on the dot. I can’t be late.”

  “DO YOU PROMISE YOU’LL come home every weekend?” Jordan asked. She reached across the seat and took my hand. “I’m not going back to only seeing you at holidays.”

  “Of course, I’ll come home. Why would I want to spend my weekends at school? The place would probably be deserted since all the other kids will run off to have a life.”

  She squeezed my hand, looking satisfied.

  “I don’t see what the point of that is,” Aunt Bev spoke up from the driver’s seat. “Why have a boarding school that only keeps the students on the weekdays?”

  Jordan shrugged. “How else is their freaky system supposed to work? They’d need to keep the students after school, or otherwise, they would always be interrupting classes.”

  Mom twisted around in her seat. “That is an excellent point. Another indictment of the harm their system causes. Young women are forced to spend less time with their families and outside peers so they can be subjected to their draconian rules.” She nodded. “Draconian. That’s going into the book.” Mom turned her gaze on me. “Make sure you call me with regular updates, Zela. Don’t wait until the weekends. Also, see if you can interview some of the girls and—”

  “Honestly, Brenda,” Auntie snapped. “She is not your spy. If you want to interview the students, go through the proper channels like a normal person.”

  “My name is not Brenda!”

  The two fell into a shouting match as Jordan and I threw each other a look in the back seat. There was no point getting in the middle of it. They would keep going until they ran out of steam.

  Mom and Aunt Beverly didn’t take a break from their argument until we turned on to Battle Street. Traffic slowed to a dead stop. The one-way road was lined with cars all heading for one place.

  I leaned forward until Mom’s seat stopped me. The sight of Breakbattle gripped me and drew me in.

  “Wow,” I breathed.

  The school was even more incredible than the brochures suggested. The structure took over the horizon, demanding to be seen like the majestic cathedrals I walked among in Europe, but Breakbattle rivaled their size. The school itself took up most of the ten acres they boasted about, but if the website was to be believed, there was also a swimming pool, courts, and a track behind it.

  “Wow,” Jordan echoed from my other side. “Mom, are you sure I can’t go here too?”

  “What are you talking about? You are excited about going to high school with your friends. Besides, it’s too late to get you signed up for orientation.”

  Orientation.

  The word rattled around in my brain as we got closer and closer to Breakbattle. I was about to step into an auditorium full of guys with my chest wrapped up and a wig on my head. What if they saw right through me? How was I supposed to fool them? What did I know about guys? I didn’t have brothers, male cousins, or an uncle anymore since Jordan’s dad passed away when we were nine.

  There’s no way I’m going to pull this off. They’ll find me out. Kick me to the other side and then the whole school will brand me as the weirdo who pretended to be a boy so she could sneak into the lockers and see manflesh. This was going to blow up in my face.

  I slipped into a downward spiral as Auntie made it to the parking lot and pulled into a spot. Jordan had to come around to my door and pull me out.

  “What’s up? Are you freaking?”

  “Yes, yes, and yes,” I hissed. “What the hell am I doing here?”

  She laughed. “Relax. No one is going to pick you out as a girl. In this case, your complete lack of boobs and womanly curves is working for you.”

  “Just for that, I’m not telling you about my boyfriends.”

  “No, no. I take it back.” Laughing, she threw her arm around my shoulder and led me to the trunk. “Just lower your voice like we practiced. Angle away when guys come in for that chest bump thing they like to do, and lock up your feminine products.”

  I bobbed my head, beating back anxiety as I reached for my bag.

  “You’re going to be fine. Don’t worry.”

  Aunt Bev came around to join us. “It’s not too late to take off those clothes and turn around.”

  I straightened, injecting steel into my spine. “Yes, it is, Auntie. I’m doing this. Let’s go.”

  No more was said as the four of us followed the crowd of people heading onto the grounds. On the first day of orientation, family members were given their own tour to learn more about the school and how it operated, but at one o’clock that afternoon, my family would leave and I would spend the rest of the week alone... in a den full of boys.

  Together, we set foot on the sprawling campus. Breakbattle was just as gorgeous up close. Whoever they had managing the grounds took great pride in their work. Flower gardens dotted the lawn, broken up by winding cobblestone paths all leading to one place.

  We walked up one of the paths to the tables set up on the lawn. A volunteer shot me a beaming smile when my shadow fell over her.

  “Good morning. What’s your name?”

  “It’s—” I stopped and cleared my throat, lowering it the way we practiced. “It’s Manning. Zeke Manning.”

  “Welcome to Breakbattle Academy, Zeke Manning.”

  I STUMBLED THROUGH the halls, struggling to control my rapid breathing. Sweat was collecting beneath my bindings and I already longed to rip them off. I was separated from Mom, Aunt Bev, and Jordan almost immediately. After checking in, the volunteer told them to go one way and me another. Their tour would start with refreshments in the cafeteria and then a lovely stroll through the grounds, while I was supposed to report to the auditorium five minutes ago.

  My heart pounded as I looked at my watch. This place is a freaking maze. How am I supposed to find anything?

  Panicked as I was, I could only give the checkered floors, paneled walls, and looming portraits a passing glance. I didn’t have time to take in the stately charm of the school.

  Where is—

  “Over here, man. It’s this way.”

  My ears perked up at the voice. I hitched my bag higher up my shoulder and picked up the pace. Rounding the corner, I spotted two guys as they disappeared through a set of double doors. This had to be the place.

  I walked up and the sign over the entrance confirmed it. Looking into the auditorium I could see most of the room was already seated.

  Another table of volunteers were set up by the doors and I moved over to them. The two guys behind the table were a lot younger and looked way more bored. One of them was on their phone and he didn’t bother to glance up when I said hello.

  The other rose as his lips stretched into a smile. My breath caught as I got a proper look at him. If you had told me he had just walked off the stage at Fashion Week, I would have had no trouble believing it even with the school uniform. Angels must have sculpted his strong jaw, cleft chin, aquiline nose, and large brown eyes for the sole purpose of stealing the breath from innocents.

  His lips moved. It wasn’t until his forehead wrinkled that I remembered w
hat that meant.

  I shook myself. “What? What did you say?”

  “I said you can leave your bag there.” He pointed over my shoulder. “You’ll take it to your rooms after the opening ceremony. What’s your name?”

  “Zel— Zeke Manning.”

  He nodded as he bent over the nametags. The guy plucked one off the table and handed it to me. “You’re in group 3G. Everything is alphabetical. Your roommate, seat assignment, and everything else.” The guy rattled off instructions without pausing for air. “Each group is led by two group leaders and we’re yours. If you need help, come to us. Any questions?”

  “Um...” I glanced around the cavernous space and the back of the heads of the guys who would be my new classmates. My eyes soon drifted back to Gorgeous. This guy seemed nice enough and he wasn’t giving me crazy looks or shouting for administration so I was clearly passing for a boy in front of him.

  “What’s your name?” I finally asked.

  The guy chuckled. It was a low, husky sound that made goosepimples erupt on my skin.

  “You’ll find out soon enough, dude.” He gestured with his chin. “Take your seat.”

  I frowned at the odd response but quickly got into gear when I heard someone tap the microphone. I dropped my bag among the suitcases and made a beeline for the chairs, scanning the signs on the way.

  “Good morning, students. On behalf of the entire administration, we welcome you to Breakbattle Academy.”

  Applause broke out as I scurried down the aisle. It was a relief when I spotted the sign that read 3G. My group had ended up in the middle rows. There was a single empty seat on the aisle and I plopped down. Only then did I look up at the stage.

  A smartly dressed woman stood before the podium. Middle-aged, but quite pretty and stylish from her chic pixie-cut and form-fitting pantsuit. Behind her, members of staff sat in high-backed chairs looking on at the new class.