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“I see. Well, while I appreciate your scholastic enthusiasm, I’d prefer if next time you wait until I’m here before going into my office. Agreed?”

“Yes,” I say. “Sorry, Daddy.”

He nods at me, then walks into his office, shutting the door behind him.

I stand in the hallway for a moment, my heart racing. I practice my calm breathing for a few seconds, before it hits me: I just fooled my all-knowing, all-perfect father.
Maybe I can do this, after all.

CHAPTER SIX

The important bee to deceive is the Queen Bee.

—A. A. Milne

All the way
to The Department I’m not sure if I will go through with it.
What will happen to me if I get caught
? Each time I start to have doubts, I remember Aaron’s scared-looking eyes on his Card Day and start to feel brave again. What’s so bad about what I’m planning to do, anyway? I’m just going to try and be like my best friend, and everyone would probably agree that he’s fantastic!

As we drive into the grounds of The Department I close my eyes and try and remember the important points that I’d read about Aaron’s Type. Be respectful to authority, work hard, don’t question tradition, be responsible, put duty above everything else. All the things that I’m not! As my father parks the car and unlocks my door I hear Aaron’s voice in my head repeating something over and over. Most of the time I think he’s saying “Hurry”, but sometimes it sounds more like “Don’t do it.” I try to ignore the don’ts.

It turns out that lying isn’t that hard, after all. All I have to do is pretend that I’m Aaron, to answer the questions the way he would. And answering them like Aaron is easy. Because even though we are so different I know him almost better than I know myself. Much better than I know anyone in my family, anyway. His Aaron-ness is in my every bone, my every cell. And that is something that all of those smart Association Psychologists at The Department never counted on.

gh

It turns out The Assessment is divided into three parts. For the first, I’m left alone in a room to answer page after page of multiple choice questions about myself. I find that the easiest of all, as I know exactly what Aaron would say.
Yes, I find it hard to get excited. No, my actions are not usually influenced by my feelings. Yes, I find it difficult to speak loudly. No, I don’t spend most of my leisure time socializing with other people
(as I answer this question, an image of Aaron sitting on his stupid beanbag chair in Quiet Room B enters my mind and I push my pencil down so hard that the lead breaks).

For the second part of The Assessment, other kids enter the room, drama students from one of the Extra Home Schools, maybe even from where Hannah goes. This is the most exciting part, but also the most challenging, as they are supposed to act out a scene and then have me react to it as naturally as possible.
Be Aaron. Be Aaron
. I find it hard not to burst out laughing and have to bite the inside of my cheek to stay in character. For the third part, one of the Association Psychologists interviews me. In his thirties, he’s one of the newer Psychologists in The Department and from the few times that he’s been a dinner guest in our house I already know he worships my father. I take this to be a good thing.

“Final question, Sophie,” Dr. Bluewater says after an hour of asking me stupid things. “How do you feel about having to spend an entire Saturday doing so much testing, instead of being able to have the day off to be with your friends, going to the mall or at a dance party of some sort? Pretty boring, huh?”

“Oh no, Dr. Bluewater,” I say. “I feel
honoured
to be going through my Assessment. I’ve been looking forward to this for months!”

“And why is that?” he asks, smiling.

“Because…” I look down for a moment, pages from the Type book flashing before my mind. “Because it’s a privilege to be able to be a part of all of this. I mean…tradition is everything to me. And besides, the system is here because it works!”

“So eloquently put for someone so young,” Dr. Bluewater says. “Not that I am surprised. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, after all.”

“Huh?” My heart starts to race.
Does he somehow know that I’m really an Extra, just like my father?

“I just mean that it is no surprise that you are such an intelligent young girl, given that your father is one of the Heads of The Association.”

At the actual mention of my father, I feel my cheeks redden, which I figure can only be a good thing, as it is exactly what would happen to Aaron.

“Alright, Sophie, we’re all done for now,” he says. “Ms. Steckler will bring in a snack for you and a magazine or two. Feel free to relax while I go through your results. The multiple choice testing has already been scored, so it shouldn’t take too long. I’ll be back with Dr. Anders fairly soon.”

I look at my lap and count to twenty. By the time I get to eighteen he’s left the room and I can breathe normally again. I stand up to jump up and down a couple of times, then twirl in a circle. I have so much energy that I feel like I could explode. You did it! You fooled them! You did it!

I hear the door knob start to turn and quickly sit in my chair again, my hands folded in my lap. A silent woman enters the room carrying a tray. She nods at me, then puts the tray down on the long table, before leaving again.
I just hope she’s not an ISTJ. I would seriously lose it if I had to act like her for the next six years!

I spend my first hour eating the oatmeal cookies and apple juice that the silent woman brought me, then flip through a few old magazines that are sitting on a window ledge in a pile. They’re all from Association Publications and therefore not even worth reading, filled with page after page of perfect-looking kids, a Psychologist’s dream. After a while, I toss the magazines on the floor, bored. I sit with my spine straight against the back of the chair for another thirty minutes, then sixty. After a while I start to feel frustrated.
What’s taking so long?
Just when I feel like I may actually die from spontaneous combustion, the door opens, and three men walk in, my father the tallest of them all.

“Daddy!” I shout before I can stop myself.
Aaron wouldn’t yell.

“Sophie, I’m sure that you won’t mind having Dr. Jenkins join us for the results,” Dr. Bluewater says, his face one huge smile. “While we don’t normally have parents in the room for the initial feedback, your father’s presence is a true honour for us here at The Department.”

I look at my father, who smiles ever-so-slightly at the younger Psychologist.

“The results, Arnold?” asks Dr. Anders.

“Yes, yes, of course,” Dr. Bluewater says. He flips through the papers in his hand. “Let’s see…Well, Sophie, your results were quite clear, quite clear. You’re an ISTJ—”

“An ISTJ?” my father interrupts. “What do you mean?”

“An ISTJ, Dr. Jenkins. Introvert, Sensing, Thinking, and Judging, with—”

“I
know
what the acronym stands for, Arnold,” my father says. “I
taught
you the acronym at the Departmental Academy, did I not?”

“Of course you did! How silly of me!”

“The results need to be analyzed again. My daughter is an Extra. I wouldn’t be surprised if she turned out to be an ESFP, just like my Hannah. Sophie’s been identified as an Extra since age two!”

Dr. Anders glances at me and I look at my lap.
Act like Aaron. Act like Aaron.

“Obviously there must be some mistake here,” my father says. “The number of parties this child has insisted on going to, the ballet and acting classes she had us sign her up for! The arguing and debating, the questioning of authority! She’s an Extra, pure and simple, just like her older sister. I have not one but two performers in my house. You should have seen all of the impromptu skits I’ve had to sit through over the years!” He sighs. “Here, let me see the findings.” He reaches out his hand and the younger man gives him the papers. I watch my father as he quickly scans the results.

“I assure you that protocol was followed and that there were no mistakes made, Michael,” Dr. Anders says.

“I’m sure that it was, Richard,” my father says. “It’s just such an unexpected finding…” He flips through the pages again, then turns to look at Dr. Bluewater. “How many Assessments have you done, Arnold?”

“Over three hundred now, sir.”

“I see.” My father’s face has an expression on it that I’ve never seen before. Kind of a mix between confusion and fear. I notice my own stomach start to tighten and make myself look away.

“As I said, protocol was followed to the letter,” says Dr. Anders.

My father holds up his hand towards the other Psychologists. “Wait, I think I’ve got it right here on page eight … I think we have our answer.”

“And what is that?” asks Dr. Anders.

“Sophie’s early testing as a toddler was done by a student at the Academy, someone who wasn’t even licensed yet!” My father’s face looks smooth once more, the worry lines gone.

“They permitted students to do the early identifications?” Dr. Bluewater asks.

“It was a different era, Arnold. We were hoping to help them gain experience, but in the process mistakes were clearly made.” My father sighs, then hands my results back to Dr. Bluewater.

“While that’s unfortunate, at least the mistake was caught now, while your daughter is still a child,” says Dr. Anders.

My father turns his gaze sharply to look at me. I can tell that he’d forgotten I was in the room, that I even existed beyond those papers. He crouches down next to my chair and pats my arm. “My poor girl,” he says softly. “All these years, treated like an Extra, pushed to be something you aren’t and as a result you behaved in the way you thought I wanted. It must have been so difficult for you!”

“That’s okay,” I say, looking into his eyes quickly, then away.

“All this time, encouraged to do so many social activities, told that you were something you’re not. Making you share a bedroom with your sister despite having extra free rooms in the house, just because I believed you needed the frequent interaction.” He sighs again. “My own daughter! Will you forgive your silly Dad?”

“Yeah,” I say, my cheeks reddening.
How can he not know
?

My father moves his face near mine and kisses the top of my head before standing up again. I can’t help but notice my dad is being more gentle and loving to me than ever before.
Did he secretly wish I was an Intro all this time
?

“So, Dr. Bluewater, has the ISTJ Home School been notified that a new student is on her way?”

“That’s my next order of business, sir,” he answers. “That, and to give your daughter this package filled with all the information she needs.” He looks at me and smiles. “You’re quite a lucky girl, Sophie. The ISTJ in our county is one of the best of its kind. It truly is a magnificent Home School.”

“Great!” I say, my voice shaking. I reach out my hand and take the package he’s holding out to me. I resist the urge to rip it open right there and read about all that I’m in for. I can wait until I get home. It will only take an hour or so until we’re back home. What’s the big deal in waiting? After all, Aaron would show some restraint.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The relationship between the controller and the controlled is reciprocal.”

—B. F. Skinner

I show restraint
while having to wait for my father to finish his endless conversations with Dr. Anders and Dr. Bluewater. I also show restraint when I then have to wait for my father to gather up his papers in his Department office and to make a few phone calls before finally being ready to go home. By the time we finally get to the car, I realize that I’ve shown enough restraint and decide to rip open the package and see what’s inside.

I pull out a large ISTJ Home School brochure. It’s filled with glossy photos of beautiful stone buildings and perfectly manicured lawns. There is page after page of perfect-looking teenage girls and boys dressed in uniforms (white shirts, blue ties, and blue pants or skirts). Below the pictures are little information blurbs about all the wonderful things to expect at ISTJ. Things that sound great, but don’t mean much to me, like:
As a First-Year at ISTJ Home School, you are welcomed into a community that emphasizes the importance of respecting oneself and others, celebrating diversity and traditions, instilling the joy of lifelong learning, and becoming responsible for one’s self, one’s school community, and one’s environment.

On another page I learn that:
ISTJ offers a unique experience for each student to develop their problem-solving and communication skills, while respecting his or her need for solitude and time to self.”

I find out that
diverse extracurricular activities
exist, as well as Guest Lectures, which are provided to anyone interested in developing themselves further. Dorm rooms are shared, but having to live in such close proximity to other students is balanced by the number of Quiet Rooms that they have across campus. Despite there being thirty of these rooms at the school, they are supposedly such a popular place to go you have to book them ahead of time (as if!). Last and certainly least in my mind, there is a mentoring system, in which each First-Year can get tutored by an upper year, if they’re having any difficulty in their coursework, or if they’d just like to review a subject’s concepts with a senior student.
Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah
.

By the time I get home, I feel exhausted and miss Aaron and my other best friend, Taylor, more and more. Taylor is several months older than me and has been gone to Secondary since October. If Aaron is the friend that helps me to wind down and just be still, then Taylor is the one who gets me going. Most of the time when Taylor and I were in class together, we’d be laughing or yelling. Teachers never let us sit next to each other in class for more than one day because we wouldn’t shut up. Whenever there was a talent show at Primary, we sang duets, each of us trying to be louder than the other, even if it meant being off key. Everything was always a bit brighter and more exciting with Taylor around.