The Academy (11 page)

Wilkenson’s pale green eyes danced. “My, my—aren’t we
manly
today. All right, why not?”

I took his hand, pumped it twice, and let go. He gave me a strange look and then smiled. “You don’t know what the hell you’re doing around here, do you, Jameson?”

“It’s my first time at school,” I said uncomfortably. Had my handshake come across as less than masculine?

“Talking to you, anyone would think it was your first time
anywhere
.” He sighed. “Come on, I’m running low on protein bars so we’d better eat while this is still hot. If there’s anything worse than hot mush, it’s cold mush.”

Feeling relieved that I had at least one friend, I dug my spoon into the steaming pile on my tray and wondered if I would ever taste real food again.

I made it to Inter-dimensional Calculus with no problem and seated myself on the far side of the class. North, I noticed, was sitting near the front and Broward and his group occupied the back. When he saw me looking at him, the bully gave me a nasty sneer. I held his eyes for a moment and then deliberately turned around. When I looked up, I saw that North had been watching our exchange. He frowned at me, shaking his head. Then the teacher called the class to order and there was nothing to do but take notes as fast as I could on my tablet.

As the lesson progressed, I was relieved to find it both easy and familiar—everything the teacher, Mr. Blinski, was saying had already been covered at length by Kristopher’s mathematics tutor. However not everyone seemed to be grasping the concepts the short, balding Mr. Blinski was spouting out in rapid-fire succession. Broward was dozing at the back of the room—which I thought was odd since he had already failed the class once. But his relaxed attitude was definitely not the norm—I saw quite a few confused looks as the teacher spoke. North, in particular, had a worried frown on his face. Finally, he raised his hand.

“Now it is obvious that M is isomorphic to the real line, so we have an isomorphism from the subset of 2D to 1D.” Mr. Blinski pointed at the whiteboard where the equation in question was written in blue. “It then follows that M x M is a hollow torus in R>4 or C<2 if one allows x to be infinity in the definition…” Then he appeared to notice North’s hand in the air. “No questions until after class, you know that, Mr. North,” he said with a disapproving frown.

“But sir, I just need to clarify a concept—”

“You’d understand if you’d done the homework last night.” Blinski’s frown deepened.

“I
did
do the homework,” North protested. “That didn’t make sense either.”

“Mr. North, one more word out of you and it’s off to the Admin building for licks.” Mr. Blinski was red in the face with irritation. “You are to hold all questions until
after
class. Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.” North seemed to bite off the words. “
Very
clear.”

“Excellent. Then we’ll continue.” And Mr. Blinski was off again.

I frowned. Were all the teachers here at the Academy so inflexible? It hardly seemed fair if they were. Kristopher’s mathematics tutor, Senor Prestillo, had always been willing to answer questions right away and explain any concept I didn’t understand until I got it. That was one reason I was so good at the subject. The other was that I simply had a natural talent for grasping and applying mathematical and spatial theories. More than once Senor Prestillo had told me I would have made an excellent starship navigator—if I hadn’t been female, of course.

The lesson went quickly and Inter-dimensional Calculus was over before I knew it. When the bell rang, I jumped up with the rest of the students to go to my next class. I moved quickly, trying to leave as much space between myself and Broward as I could without bothering North. He still had a frustrated look on his face as he waited to talk to the teacher. He spoke with Mr. Blinski in a low voice, pointing at the whiteboard and then his tablet over and over but whatever the teacher was telling him, didn’t seem to satisfy him. Finally he shook his head and joined the herd of cadets milling toward their next class.

I thought about asking him what was wrong and trying to discuss the equation, but at the last minute I decided not to. Just because he was willing to act as my protector part of the time didn’t mean he could be seen talking to a lowly third-former. Better not press my luck by making him angry. So I hung back, studying the frustrated look on his face and wishing I could help.

For some reason, as I watched him, I thought about how it had felt to sit on his lap the night before. Even though the episode had been extremely brief, my brain seemed to have memorized every bit of it. The look in his piercing blue eyes, the warmth of his skin, and the clean masculine musk that seemed to be his natural scent were all burned into my mind. And the way he had comforted me when I cried had been so soothing and kind. Why was he nice one moment and angry or irritated with me the next? Would we ever be friends or was that impossible? I mulled it over as I made my way to my next class.

The rest of the day continued at the same pace and I was glad to see that I was ahead in every single subject. At least excelling academically here wasn’t going to be a problem. Now if I could just keep away from Broward and find a way to take a shower, I might find my two years at the Academy bearable.

North and I parted ways after our second class together, Astro Navigation, but I did see him, still studying his tablet at the fourth-form table, at lunch. Wilkenson and I ate together and he gave me gossipy news about my teachers and some of our fellow classmates. No one else offered to join our group but I was satisfied to have even one friend, so it didn’t bother me.

What
did
bother me was the question of how my last class, mandatory physical-fitness, would go. I hadn’t forgotten that Broward was going to be taking it with me and it didn’t sound like the kind of class where I could avoid the bully just by choosing a seat across the room from him.

“Hey, Jameson, what’s
wrong
with you?” Wilkenson pouted at me from across the dining table. “Some friend you’re turning out to be. You didn’t even
hear
the juicy gossip I just told you about Simmons over there.”

“Sorry.” I forced myself to drag my eyes from the fourth-form table where Broward and his cronies were shooting milk from their noses and roaring with trollish laughter. “I’m just worried.”

“What about? Broward?” He eyed my bruised cheek.

“I had another run in with him this morning,” I confessed. “If North hadn’t been there…”

“You mean he rescued you?” Wilkenson’s pale green eyes lit up. “How romantic!”

“More like
protected
me,” I corrected. “But he really didn’t want to—he thinks I’m a pest.”

“If he really thought that, you’d be third-form
pate’
by now,” Wilkenson said knowingly. “So what happened?”

I shrugged. “Just some talk. But I’m worried because I have my last class with Broward and North won’t be there. What am I going to do?”

“What class is it?”

I told him and Wilkenson raised his white-blond eyebrows and gave a long, low whistle. “Oh dear, that is
not
good.
Soooo
not good.”

I began to feel panicked. “Why not? What can I do?”

Wilkenson gave me a pitying look. “The only advice I can give you is to
never
be alone with him. Stay with the class, in the middle of the group if you can. Coach Janus, the Fitness teacher, is no push-over. He’s big on fair play and good sportsmanship so he won’t let Broward work you over. Stay where he can see you as much as you can.”

“All right.” I nodded. “Anything else?”

“Yes—stay
out
of the shower.” Wilkenson leaned across the table and pointed a finger at me. “They have those individual ones there, in the back of the gymnasium.”

“They do?” My heart started pounding at the thought. “You mean the kind where you can have actual
privacy
while you shower?”

“Well, yes, my little manikin.” Wilkenson frowned. “But the showers are across the building from the coach’s office and it’s dark back there.
Anything
could happen if Broward catches you alone. So no matter how sweaty you are, just come straight back to your dorm right after class. After all, you can always catch a shower before RLO, right?”

Reluctantly, I nodded. “Right.” But inside, I cursed my luck. A refreshing, hot shower just within my reach, but that big bully Broward was going to stop me from taking one. It wasn’t fair!

“Good.” Wilkenson smiled, unaware of my inner turmoil. “Then you should be fine.” He frowned. “Other than being the smallest one in the class that is.”

I sighed. “I can’t help that.”

“I know,” he said consolingly. “Don’t worry though—you’re small but you’re tough. You wouldn’t have made it this far if you weren’t—right?”

“Right,” I said uncertainly. But at the moment I felt anything but tough. I just wanted to get through the upcoming fitness class without getting myself killed or my secret discovered.

Fitness class was as bad as I had feared it would be.

To begin with, I
was
the smallest student in the large group of third and fourth-form boys—the smallest by far. And I could tell by the unfriendly looks I got from the other cadets that the rumor Broward had spread about me had preceded me. Any hope I might have had of making friends was over before it began.

“Hey, freshie,” Broward called as I walked into the large, echoing gymnasium. “What took you so long to dress out? Did you have to go to the
Admin
building to try on your gym suit?”

Actually what had taken me so long was waiting until he and his crew were out of the dressing room. As soon as they were gone, I had gotten dressed as quickly as possible, thankful that the gym clothes which had been waiting in my locker were just a little bit baggy. The thin t-shirt material didn’t cover as much as my thick uniform jacket but my breast bandages still seemed to be well hidden.

I didn’t answer the taunt, just held my head up and kept walking because there was nothing else I could do. Still, I could feel my cheeks burning and I knew my classmates would take my embarrassed blush as a sign that Broward was telling the truth. There were some unkind snickers as I took my place in line but no one spoke out loud because just then the instructor, Coach Janus, walked in and blew his whistle.

“All right, ladies, settle down.” He was a heavyset man with thick, bushy black eyebrows and a hooked nose. There was a no-nonsense look in his dark brown eyes—not a teacher you wanted to make angry with you, I decided as he went on. “Today we’re continuing our sports from Earth-that-was series with a game called dodge ball.”

There were groans from several of the assembled cadets but Broward had a nasty grin on his lumpish face that worried me. What was 'dodge ball' and how was it played? I was afraid I was about to find out—the hard way.

“Okay now, form two teams,” Coach Janus continued. “Broward, you’re captain of A team and Jakes, you’re B. Go to it while I get the equipment.”

“Great.” Broward strode forward along with another fourth-form student I hadn’t seen before. “I’ll take Nodes.”

Jakes nodded. “I’ll take Strawsen.”

And so it went. Predictably, I was chosen last and with much protest by the other members of team B, where I ended up. I tried not to feel hurt and reminded myself that my small stature wasn’t my fault. After all, I was a
girl.
Even if no one else in the room besides me knew it, I had a perfect right to be petite. But no matter how much I told myself that, it still stung to be called 'runt' and kept in the back of the line.

Soon enough Coach Janus came back, wheeling a large cart filled with red, hard-rubber balls about the size of someone’s head. “Okay, ladies,” he shouted. “Come and get ‘em. Let’s go—we don’t have all day.”

Cadets from both teams ran forward, grabbed as many of the balls as they could carry, and ran back to the black dividing line in the middle of the gym. I hung back myself, not wanting to get too involved. I was fine with one-on-one contests like fencing or chess but thanks to my sheltered upbringing and my sex, I had never played a team sport in my life.

“C’mon, new guy—what’s your name?” I looked up and realized Coach Janus was looking at me.