The Academie
Authors: Amy Joy
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Love & Romance, #Romance, #scifi, #Mystery, #Relationships, #school, #Paranormal Romance, #Fantasy, #prison, #Family, #love story, #Speculative Fiction, #Science Fiction, #high school, #literary fiction, #teen violence, #Dystopian, #speculative, #ya lit, #teen lit, #young adult literature, #strict school, #school hell, #school sucks
THE ACADEMIE
By Amy Joy
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2011 Amy Joy
All rights reserved. Except as
permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this
publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted, in
whole or in part, in any form or by any means, or stored in any
form of retrieval system, without prior written consent of the
author.
Countless hours of work went into
producing this story for your enjoyment. Please respect this by not
illegally transferring it to others.
This is a work of fiction, and as such,
any similarity to actual events or people—living or deceased—is
purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
For Christian…my Bryan
CONTENTS
the threshold to hell
ruby
streptencoholitis
dorm life
stupidness
lights out
zxbfeie
dean’s bagels
the room to nowhere
fitness testing
paris via time machine
back to basics
andy
grandma marie
daytime nightmares
the path to enlightenment
birthday wishes
the stable atom
the corn graveyard
flour and flowers
the voodoo prohibition
dodgeball
tumbling into fairytale
please stay…
morning breath
the hidden value of the arts
the rock
the longest winter
a place to hide
hide-and-seek
spring
visitation
overlapping spaces
reality check
mass delusions
the fine line of sanity
forbidden territory
déjà vu
the run around
shades of gray
when teachers attack
expulsion
lines of code
subtle changes
schoolcraft
the door
happy sadness
dr. stanford
the arrest
1. the threshold to
hell
This is the day I hope to
forget…
“
Looks like a lot of
people are already here,” mom called from the front seat of what
used to be my car.
I’d surrendered my keys that morning.
Dad said they planned to sell it. My six-year-old brother, Andy,
wouldn’t need it for years, and by the time he did, he’d be headed
to where I was now: The Academie.
Five years ago, I started high school.
Life was normal. I worked hard at school and made Honor Roll. Got a
job, saved for college, and picked the best school I could find.
Mostly, all I wanted was to get away.
And I did. But not for
long.
Two years ago, things got nuts. Tommy
Bacher of Oakfield, Massachusetts brought a 9mm firearm to school.
In a matter of minutes, he took out his Spanish class, along with
half a cafeteria of students in study hall. Then he took off
running. Hours later, they found him under the stadium bleachers
with a bullet in his head and a note that read: “I hate you
all.”
“
Tommy’s Crusade”—as the
media dubbed it— set off a series of violent outbreaks. Two weeks
later, fifteen-year-old Sarah Branstein broke into her
step-father’s gun cabinet, loaded his 12-gauge shotgun, and sat
waiting for her parents to come home. Her mom was the first unlucky
victim, picked off with groceries in her hand and Sarah’s
four-year-old half sister, Emma, trailing behind. Sarah’s mom took
two shots to the abdomen and lay bleeding to death till her husband
came home. When Mr. Branstein walked in, he purportedly found
little Emma crying over her mother and Sarah still armed and
waiting. She took several shots at her step-father, killing him
instantly, before calling the police to tell them what she had
done.
Countless similar events followed,
creating a media frenzy and widespread panic. I think this was the
beginning of the changes to come. Shortly after, I overheard
teachers talking about policy adjustments to deal not only with
teenage violence but also dropping test scores and general student
apathy. I remember Mrs. White saying something about us not being
able to solve basic equations and Mr. Moffet declaring that he
didn’t think we’d be prepared to take care of ourselves, let alone
hold down a job.
Our country’s solution?
The Academie: a nationwide compulsory boarding school program,
designed to replace our current high schools. At least, that was at
first. In its first year, two things happened: student success
increased, and violent crimes
outside
The Academie failed to
decrease. The result: even though I’d already graduated, I was
being sent back to high school—imprisoned more like it.
Me and every other adult under
23.
“
Should be nice to see all
your old friends again.” Mom turned in her seat to smile at me in
the back of the car.
I was starting to lose it. I’d already
told her a dozen times that I didn’t care about seeing anyone from
high school again. She wasn’t listening.
As huge supporters of The Academie, my
parents ignored anything I said against it. I think they believed
I’d jump on board with it all once I was part of it—like my
sixteen-year-old brother, Matt had done.
I was certain they were
wrong.
When dad stopped the car, I started to
feel really sick. He and mom bounced out of the car and mom opened
my door as dad opened the trunk to grab my things.
“
Come on, Allie,” mom sang
from the doorway.
I sat there, paralyzed. It
felt as though they’d brought me to the threshold to hell.
I can’t do it. I can’t go back in there.
Especially now….like this.
“
Come on, Allie,” mom
repeated. Her tone was impatient.
I couldn’t move.
“
Alathea Rose! You get out
of that car this instant!”
Does she know I’m
nineteen?
Does she know this is still
my car?
“
Allie,” dad said, now
standing beside her, “What kind of an example are you setting for
your brother?”
I sat there. It was so easy for them.
They thought they were right.
I knew I was.
“
Fine!” mom snapped. “I’ll
go get an officer and
they
can get you out!”
She knew that would do it for me.
There was no way I was going to let an officer make a spectacle of
me. I grabbed the trash bag mom kept in the car to keep her vehicle
tidy and huffed loudly as I exited. “I’m taking this for when I
vomit.”
Mom rolled her eyes. I didn’t
care.
Dad had set the small bag of personal
items The Academie allowed me to have on the ground. I grabbed them
up.
Then I saw Andy. His little boy eyes
were filling with tears.
I set the bag back on the ground and
bent down so Andy and I could be eye-level. “It’s going to be
okay,” I said, rubbing his head.
He reached over and gave
me a big hug. I felt his body shake as the tears heaved through
him. That’s when I lost it.
It’s going to
be okay,
I told myself.
My head ached and my face felt puffy
as I stood again and attempted to wipe the tears away.
Mom swooped in then to give me a hug.
It was stiff and uncomfortable.
Dad followed her lead.
I turned back to my mother. “Could you
at least take care of the flowers Bryan gave me?”
“
They are cut flowers,
Allie. They won’t last another week.”
“
You could dry them
out.”
“
Honey, they aren’t going
to be any good.”
My body felt heavy. It was an effort
to pick up my small bag.
“
Say hello to Matthew,”
mom said.
I huffed and turned away.
Clenching my jaw to hold back the
tears, I left my life behind and walked toward my future
home.
2. ruby
The sinking feeling in my stomach
renewed itself. The ancient stone building looked the same as I
remembered, but the sixteen-foot barbed-wire prison fences around
the perimeter and guard shack by the drive reminded me that this
was no longer Grant High School: Home of the Angry Bees.
A line had formed at the school
entrance, and I looked ahead to see what the hold-up was. But given
my size, I couldn’t see anything.
“
What are we waiting for?”
I asked the girl ahead of me.
She turned and I could see I wasn’t
the only one who’d been taking this hard. Her eyes were swollen and
her voice was tight as she answered. “I think they’re collecting
papers.”
I started to rummage in my bag. Weeks
ago I’d been given extensive paperwork to complete, and was told to
bring a copy of my social security card and birth
certificate.
The girl in front of me sniffed. I
wanted to say something, but I kept quiet. Sometimes you just need
to be alone to cry.
I watched as she tried to wipe the
tears away, and I reached into my bag again, rummaging about until
I came upon a pack of tissues. “Here,” I said, holding them out to
her.
“
Thanks,” she answered,
accepting the pack. She wiped her face and blew her nose.
“Sorry…I’m just…”
“
No, it’s fine. Really, I
understand.”
“
I have a daughter,
Charlotte,” she answered.
“
Oh,” I said,
surprised.
“
How old is she?” It
seemed like a nice enough way to make conversation. Apparently, it
was not the right thing to say.
Tears started down her cheeks. “Five
days.”
“
Five days?”
She brushed a red curl from her
face.
I was still shaking my head in
disbelief. Then I realized my mouth was open. “I can’t believe
that. Couldn’t they give you some sort of a waiver?”
She shook her head. “I asked. I even
provided research—proof of why it was better for Charlotte if I
stayed with her for at least the first few weeks.
“
I was denied.
If they make exceptions for one, they’ll have to
make exceptions for all,”
she said in a
mocking tone.
“
They’re bastards,” I said
as the line moved forward.
She smiled. “I’m Ruby.”
“
Allie,” I
said.
A few weeks back, an itinerary had
been mailed to me. I pulled it out of the pocket I’d crammed it
into an hour ago and smoothed it just enough to see where we were
headed.
9:00 a.m. New Student
Orientation—Gymnasium
As we reached the door, we
were met by Academie personnel in full military regalia.
Welcome home,
I
thought.
“
Papers,” one officer
said, as two others relieved us of our personal affects. There was
no doubt that our bags would be searched before being taken who
knows where.
My picture of Bryan is as
good as gone…