The Academy - Friends vs. Family (40 page)

“Sang is staying home,” my mother said. “If that...
man
asks you about her, you’re to say she’s sick and she won’t be going to school.”

“Where’s dad?” Marie asked.

“He’s abandoned us,” my mother said, monotone-like, almost too
matter-of-fact. “I’ve got to call the bank to see if he left us with any
money.”

“Why don’t you call him?” Marie asked.

“I can’t reach him. But text that man back and pretend to be her.
Say she’s not feeling well. I don’t want him coming over and looking for her.”

My voice caught in my throat as I gasped. They’re going to lie.
Marie was working with her. Did she know I was in the closet?

I sank on the floor, stretching to gaze out at the crack between
the carpet and the bottom of the door. From the angle, all I could see was the
other closet door. I tried it from different angles but the best I could do was
see the door to the bathroom.

The bathroom! There was probably a camera in there.

I twisted the handle, opening it a crack. “Mom?” I called, trying
to sound humble.

“Close that door,” she snapped at me.

“I need to use the bathroom, please,” I said.

Pause. “You better be five seconds,” she warned.

I let the closet door burst open, stepping out wearing the coat
around me. Marie was in the bedroom, my pink cell phone in her hands as she
typed in it. Her brown eyes lifted, looking at my face, at my nudity and the
brown coat. I was about to flash her a warning look.
Be careful
, I
wanted to tell her.
She’s not well. She’ll lock you in the closet, too.

Only when I looked at my sister, I didn’t see surprise or sorrow.
I saw something that made me cower where I stood.

Glee. Pure, unadulterated joy. It was the happiest I had ever seen
her. With her shoulders back, wearing Nathan’s blue t-shirt on her body and the
new red shorts I’d just been wearing. She held the phone like a prize.

All I could think was what could I have ever done to her that she
would take such pleasure in seeing me reduced to nothing. Had we not tried to
work together over the years? Maybe we didn't get along, but we weren’t mean to
each other. I got her keys. I tried to help her sneak out when she wanted. I
never tattled on her like she often did to me.

“I should hang on to the phone,” Marie said. “If they try to text
her at school, I could keep telling them she’s sick.”

My mother nodded, her cracked lips pursed. She held the house
phone in her hands. “I don’t care. Keep it,” she said. “I’ll call the school
and tell them she won’t be in today.” She pushed buttons on the phone. “I’m
calling your father’s office. If your father doesn’t call me back by tonight,
I’m calling the police to report that he abandoned his daughter. If he wants to
walk out on me, he’ll have to take her with him.”

Q
uick
T
hinking

I scurried to the bathroom. I didn’t know how long it would take
for the guys to use this camera or how long it would be for them to figure out
what was going on. If Marie was going to text them that I wasn’t feeling well,
and she would tell them so at the bus stop, they might just believe the lie.
What would Nathan think if she was wearing his shirt? What about the shorts?
Would he recognize them? They might not check on me at all in person until
after school.

What could happen between now and then? What if my mother gave up
early and called the police sooner? And why would our father abandon us? Why
did she insist he take me wherever he went? What if he was really just on a
business trip and had taken all his clothes because it would be a long one?
Excuses, conjecture. Not helpful. I didn’t have all the answers and I didn’t
have enough time right now to figure it out.

And why was she shoving me off on him like unwanted leftovers? What
about Marie? I understood why she wasn’t in the closet with me, but our mother
didn’t make it sound like Marie was supposed to go with our father, too. Did
she hate me that much?

I found the vent on the ceiling. Even after climbing onto the sink
to stand, it was too high to reach. I needed a ladder.

What would I do if I could reach it, anyway? I couldn’t stay there
and make sign language into the camera lens. If Marie was going to do her part,
and if they followed procedure, it might be hours before they would even think
to check. It might not even be until tomorrow. It would be too late.

I chewed my lip.

“Sang!” My mother called.

I was running out of time.

An idea occurred to me. I didn’t have to stand in front of the
camera to alert to them that something was wrong. I was the only one who knew
the cameras existed. So if I left something that they would know was me, they’d
see it and know I was leaving them a message. What could I leave that they
would understand?

The angle of the camera was hard to make out, but it looked angled
toward the shower. I yanked the shower curtain back. I opened the cabinet under
the sink, looking for something to mark the basin with. I found a bottle of old
shampoo, the goo inside was a deep green color. Would they see this against the
tub?

I crouched on the edge of the tub basin. She wasn’t going to
shower. She hadn’t done so in a while. I estimated a spot from the angle of the
camera. They would see a message but if she came in to use the toilet, she
might not notice. It was my only chance.

I opened the bottle, dumping the contents onto the bottom of the
tub. With my fingers, I moved the goo around until I had a green heart. Hidden
hearts. They had to know it was me. Would they see it? Would they understand?
I’m
here. Come find me.

“Sang!” My mother’s voice croaked near the door.

I left the shower curtain open, walking away and flushing the
toilet for good measure. I chucked the bottle under the sink and washed my
hands. I swallowed, pulling the coat on again and opening the door, doing my
best not to give the tub another look or risk drawing attention to it.

My mother stood in the doorway, her wild eyes flared at me. She
was shorter than me, but with the demand and anger in her eyes, she seemed a
thousand times bigger than me. She was awake and she was angry, left by her
husband. For some reason, I was at the center of her hatred toward him.

“Sorry,” I stammered. “I really had to go.”

“Get in that closet,” she said, each word spoken with venom.

I shuffled forward, heading toward the closet again. Obey as long
as it isn’t dangerous, they’d said. Lie if I had to. I would trust their
advice. Hiding in the closet wasn’t dangerous. Maybe it wasn’t normal, but I
wouldn’t die in there.

“Wait,” she commanded.

I stopped in my footsteps, my heart in my throat. Did she spot the
heart? Did she find the camera?

She pointed at the coat. “Give me that.”

I glanced toward the bedroom. Marie was gone. I removed the coat,
letting it fall from my shoulders and to the floor.

“Get in there.”

I slipped into the closet, naked and alone.

S
ecret
M
essages

Hours later, I was kneeling on the carpet, my butt on my heels. I
bent forward, my arms folded on the floor, my head on my forearms.

I breathed in the fibers of the floor, listening to the sounds of
the house. Every creak, every whisper of air shifting, I hoped it was the boys
coming for me and at the same time, I hoped it wasn’t. Maybe I’d made a
mistake. If they came for me now, the police would be called. I was also
running out of time. If my father didn’t come home, she’d call the police and
have me sent away anyway. Either option was going to end up badly. What would
the police do? The fact that I didn’t know made me worry so much more. I
thought if it happened that I’d probably never see the guys again.

Waiting was the worst. There were so many questions left
unanswered and all I had to do with my time was think. My father was gone. But
she assumed he had abandoned us. His closet was empty, but what did it really
mean? Did he leave without saying anything at all? Did he mean it to be
forever?

I could almost understand it. It was hard to envision, but after
at so many years with an ill, possibly dying wife who did nothing but spout
misery, rape and evil, he must have gotten tired and disappeared. I hardly knew
anything about him. I couldn’t blame him totally. Wasn’t I drawn to the guys
because they were nice to me? Wasn’t Marie at Danielle’s every weekend to avoid
the emptiness of the house? I knew it happened to other families. I’d heard it
from other students. Daddy left last night. Weeks later they might spot him at
the grocery store, buying frozen dinners and booze, and sometimes a box of
condoms.

What did it matter if he left completely if he was never here
anyway? Was that even a concern? Why didn’t I feel sadder about my dad not
being there? Maybe that should be the worst thing. Kota said I was dismissive
of things like that. I didn’t even care that I was in the closet so much. I was
more stressed that I was putting the guys at risk and that my father might get
the police called on him for reasons unknown to me.

And it was all my fault. If I hadn’t wanted to go to Nathan’s, or
if I’d stayed in bed and slept at home like I was supposed to, it wouldn’t have
happened at all. I would still have my secret phone. I’d have gone off to
school. If my dad was gone, I wouldn’t have been in the middle of this. Would
I?

I felt the guilt of it on my shoulders. I made too many mistakes.
Maybe Victor was wrong. Maybe I needed to keep them out of some things. I could
have sucked in my loneliness for the night and made it through. It would have
been better than this.

More time passed. My mother made phone calls to the bank like she
promised. She rattled off account numbers and she questioned the amounts. She
made them repeat information to her. When she hung up, she grumbled. That was
all. No revelation as to the condition of the accounts.

A little later, she called my father’s office, asking them to
leave him another message, and requesting that the secretary try to call
through to him. Family emergency.

My mother didn’t sleep. It left me without a chance to escape.
Cell phone or not, I thought if I could get up to my bedroom, I could at least
leave a note. Maybe I could send smoke signals. She never gave me the chance.

A distinct
ding-dong
echoed through the hallway and into my
parents’ bedroom.

It startled me because I’d never heard the sound before. It took a
while for me to recognize it as the front doorbell.

My mother shuffled on her feet, tracing back and forth from what
sounded like the door of her bedroom to the bed and back. Was she contemplating
ignoring it?

The doorbell rang again. My heart thundered in my chest. Despite
not being able to see, I crawled on my belly toward the light, staring out at
the other closet as if doing so made me hear better.

My mother hobbled down the hallway. The sound of the front door
swinging open resonated back to me.

A voice. Attention demanding. Elegant. Perfect.

Mr. Blackbourne. My heart thundered in my ears leaving me unable
to concentrate. I listened, desperate to make out a word he was saying.

My mother replied to him. Something negative. Mr. Blackbourne’s
voice grew in strength, but despite that, I couldn’t make out the conversation.
My mother replied, loud, angry and shut the door.

The guys knew something was wrong. They were looking for me. It
was enough to know that little bit after hours of worrying what would happen to
me if my mother did try calling the police. The Academy boys knew.

My mother crossed the bedroom to the closet, opening the door and
peering in at me, as if wondering if I was still there.

I kowtowed on the floor, my naked back exposed as I tried to cover
everything else. I turned my head toward her, waiting.

Her scowl etched on her face. “Why would your teacher from school
come looking for you?”

I had no idea what Mr. Blackbourne told her. “Because I’m not
there?” I said flatly, not really caring if that was the answer she wanted. Mr.
Blackbourne was outside somewhere! I wanted to hug him, him with his cruel
steel eyes and ever-demanding requirement for perfection. I wouldn’t care. His
voice had drifted to me, letting me know everything I needed right then. It was
all I needed to find my courage. I would wait forever knowing someone out there
wanted me. The boys did. Even Mr. Blackbourne.

Her eyes narrowed at me. She shoved a paper at my face, flicking
the light on. I blinked as the closet light temporarily blinded me. I rubbed at
my eyes.

“Read that,” she said.

Confused, I picked up the paper, drawing myself up to sit on my
butt, covering my body with folded legs against my chest. My eyes scanned the
square, yellow piece of paper.

The note was mostly in English. It announced a make-up test
required in three days or I’d fail.

There was a single line of script at the end. The language was my
own secret code, the Korean lettering nearly identical to the way I wrote it.

Bathroom.

That was all. It meant something. That I should go back to the
bathroom?

He knew my language. I hated him and loved him for it at the same
time. Shrewd, clever Mr. Blackbourne.

“It says I have to take a test,” I told my mother.

“I should call the police on you now,” she spat at me. “Your
father leaves me. I’m ill and he walked out. How am I supposed to run this
house with his harpy daughter, running wild in the streets? Getting boys to buy
her cell phones. Wearing boy clothes. I saw those clothes in your closet. Boy
pants. Boy shirts. I said you would get raped, killed, and tried to warn you.
Nothing. No one listens to me. I’ll stop this before it starts. You won’t bring
down this house.” She shut the door again, leaving me in the darkness to ponder
how she could think such things. I understood it. It looked bad. If she only
knew...

But it didn’t matter to me.

I was no longer alone.