The Academy: Book 2 (53 page)

             
Asa shrugged. “We’re in the Academy. You should always be worried.”

             
She leveled him with her eyes—“Is it something bad, Asa?”

             
He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s definitely a development. Oh, hey! I wanted to ask you something. At the beginning of this semester, you said you wanted us to come and talk to you if we won the Flying Class challenge and got to pick a talent. Which one do you want me to pick?”

             
“Did you win?”

             
“No. Not yet. But you need to tell me. I’m going to win today.”

             
“Well that’s a bit arrogant of you.”

             
He laughed and fog came out of his mouth. “It’s just that I know something.”

             
Roxanne’s eyebrows came together.

             
“I’ll explain it all later, I promise.”

             
She looked around. In the distant skies, other Sharks could be seen flapping their wings as they soared towards the Plaid. “I trust you. Don’t tell people I asked you to get this ability, okay? But I want you to pick the electricity mutation—the one that lets you shock people.”

             
“Really? Why not more efficient caloric rationing? I was thinking I’d get that one, if I got to choose. The Task really opened my eyes to how quickly we can starve with all these mutations.”

             
“Just trust me, okay, Asa?”

             
Now it was Asa’s turn to pull his eyebrows together.

             
She looked around once more to see if anyone else was listening in on their conversation. The other teammates were now flying over the water. She stepped closer to him and whispered. “I know you saw me punch that Armadillo in the first Winggame match. I saw your eyes—you knew something strange was going on.”

             
Now Asa was really confused.

             
She was still whispering to him. “The electricity mutation has advantages that the Academy doesn’t know about. Just get it, okay? I’ll explain later.”

             
“But I don’t understand why?”

             
Bruce had just landed, and she greeted him as though she and Asa hadn’t been talking. Then, one by one, the Sharks arrived on the Plaid. When all were present except for Stan and Janice (who were never expected), practice began.

             
They spent most of the practice doing three-person flying drills in which teammates had to weave in and out of each other’s paths as they flew. Now that they had been together for an entire season, they knew all of the plays proficiently, and would easily be able to execute whatever formation Bruce chose next week. They saw no reason to continue practicing something that they had perfected. Flying, by comparison, could always be improved upon.

             
Asa was exhausted from the night before, and his hips were stiff from Teddy tackling him to the ground. On top of this, he had other things on his mind. For one, he was excited to try out Teddy’s idea in Flying Class today. It made sense to Asa, but he could also see it failing. He was slightly nervous that if the idea didn’t work he would look crazy. Asa was also nervous about Teddy staying in Conway’s cabin. If something happened, such as Teddy escaping and biting Mama, Asa didn’t know if he would be able to forgive himself. These things added up to a poor practice for Asa. His flying was sloppy. Once, about an hour in, he was supposed to fly diagonally between Jen and Bruce and he accidentally slammed into Bruce and sent him into the water. Incidences such as this were numerous, and by the end of practice he was even more exhausted and also frustrated.

             
As the sun turned the Eastern sky blood red, the Sharks were once again seated upon the Plaid. Half of them were wet from landing in the Moat, and all eyes were on Bruce as he explained why he believed it would be best to employ a defensive strategy in their upcoming match against the Panthers. The first rays of sun were beginning to shine through mountain valleys when he dismissed them.

             
The Sharks were quiet; many of them were too tired to talk as they stood up and stretched out their wings in preparation to leave.

             
A shadow fell upon the Plaid and Asa had just enough time to notice the flying student before he landed. All of the Sharks remained silent, but stared in awe. Stan Nuby had just landed among them. He hadn’t been to a single practice since their second game of the season.
So why is he here now?
He looked as though he had caught a stomach virus—his face appeared as though it had been drained of blood, and he stood slumped over, as though he didn’t have the energy to stand.

             
The posture reminded Asa of how his mother looked before she died. Briefly, he wondered if Stan had contracted the Wolf Flu.

             
But that’s impossible!
He told himself,
All Academy students have been vaccinated against the Wolf Flu. No one has gotten it before.

             
Stan also appeared to have been beaten with a baseball bat. His right eye was nearly swollen shut, and his neck had finger bruises on them, as though someone had choked him.

             
Stan acted as though everything was normal. “Is practice over? I forgot what time it started. I know you said after the last match, but I forgot.”

             
Roxanne looked as startled as everyone, and spoke slowly, carefully. “Yes, practice is over. We start at six every morning.”

             
“Okay. I’ll be here tomorrow.” Stan’s voice shook slightly, and Asa wondered if he was nervous about something.

             
“Well, see you guys tomorrow,” Bruce said awkwardly, and then he stepped through one of the holes in the Plaid and fell towards the glistening water of the Moat before bringing out his wings and flying over the water.

             
Other students were leaving as well, and Asa wanted to get away before Stan had time to say something rude. It was only eight o’clock, and Flying Class wasn’t until nine that day. He thought that if he moved quickly he might be able to go back to his dwelling and get forty extra minutes of studying in before Flying Class. He desperately wanted to get an A on all his finals. He knew that the ten points per class he would be rewarded for doing so were negligible compared to the three-hundred ninety he already had, but still, he wanted to get As. It wasn’t just for the points; he wanted to prove to himself that he belonged. Most everyone else in the Academy was a genius, but he had a suspicion that with enough effort, he could bridge the gap and perform as well as his classmates. He would guess that he had put in twice as much time studying than anyone else in the Academy that semester.

             
Asa had his wings out and was about to dive off the Plaid when Stan grabbed his shoulder; “How’ve you been, Piggy?” He pronounced ‘been’ like ‘bin.’

             
Asa didn’t know what to say, so he remained silent. Stan didn’t
look
as though he were trying to be mean. His small mouth held a polite smile. 

             
“How’re your classes goin’, Asa?” Stan asked when Asa didn’t answer his first question. He looked at Asa through bruised, swollen eyes.

             
What is he doing? Making small talk? He hates me!
“Good. I’m nervous about exams. I was actually about to go study.”

             
“Oh. Well, don’t let me keep ya. I know I am nervouser than ever, for sure, about mine. I don’t know if you remember, I’ve got to get all As and win the Winggame championship to get my thousand points.”

             
“I remember,” Asa said coldly, still trying to decipher Stan’s motives.

             
Stan had his hands clasped together in front of him and was kicking his toe nervously on the Plaid. The sun was bright behind him, making his face a dark shadow. “Listen, Asa, I want to say something.’ Truth be told, I guess I was a bit mean to you. Or, real mean, I guess.” He met Asa’s eyes and unbelievably, Asa saw tears running down his cheeks. “I believed the rumors. I believed that you were a murderer. I’m a murderer too, you know, I killed my parents and all. But I guess I was just mad because I thought that you were a danger to me, so I tried to be scary. But you wouldn’t hurt a fly, Asa. And I wanted to say that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for tackling you, and calling you names and such.” He went back to staring at his feet and his face returned to a shadow.

             
Asa didn’t know what to say.
Is this some kind of joke? Or some kind of trap?

             
Stan looked up again and his cheeks were wet with more tears. “You don’t have to forgive me. I understand if you don’t.”

             
Asa remained still.

             
Stan wiped the tears from his face and squared his shoulders. He clenched his jaw, and regained his normal, tough way of holding himself. “You’re a good man, Asa Palmer.” He stepped through a hole in the Plaid and was flying off before Asa could respond.

             
Asa turned and saw that Roxanne had stayed. “That was weird,” she said, amused.

             
“Really weird,” Asa agreed.

             
Instead of studying, Asa drank a cup of coffee and then took a quick power nap on his hammock. It was cold in the room, as the fire had gone out the night before in his absence. He didn’t bother to relight it, but just turned up the heat on his suit and closed his eyes.

             
Asa didn’t usually like to drink two cups of coffee in a day; he had an unusual sensitivity to caffeine, and even this small of an amount could keep him from going to sleep when night came. However, he wanted his mind to be as sharp as possible in Flying Class today. He believed that Teddy’s plan would work, and thought it would be a shame if he failed due to fatigue.

             
Despite the coffee, Asa dreamed heavily in the twenty minutes before his alarm went off. He dreamed of the Task, pterosaurs, and pterodactyls, as well as dead monkeys hung up by their ankles. His dream had felt so real that he had to take a moment to orient himself to where he was after waking. He then flew over to the mountain door that led into Flying Class. As he flew, he looked off into the jungle and thought of Joney, Edna, and Michael. It had been months since Asa had seen them. He could vaguely remember Michael threatening Joney that he could ‘get in trouble’ if he kept killing Davids.
Who would get him into trouble? The Hive? Some other organization? Were the Multipliers who would get Joney in trouble the same ones who bit Teddy?
Asa felt too tired to contemplate such things at the moment.

Asa got closer to the entrance of flying class.
He remembered his first day there, when Brumi had come in late, crying and dripping Salvaserum from a flesh wound. Pushing this thought aside and trying to clear his mind for the task ahead, he opened the door.

             
The first part of Flying Class went on mostly as usual. Asa entered the room and tried to ignore all of the faces that stared at him. Now, he wasn’t only viewed as a murderer, but was also perceived as a freak for how well he performed while flying through the giant wooden maze. All the others looked at him with a distant admiration. It wasn’t that he was a better flyer than everyone else; Teddy’s advice to change tones while using echolocation had given him an immense advantage. The advice allowed Asa to anticipate obstacles and curves in the ever-changing course that no other student could see. His secret technique made Asa feel as though he was somehow cheating, and the respect and fear he received from his peers made him feel uncomfortable. What made it worse was the fact that most of the other students were geniuses, and had stood out in the world before arriving at the Academy. As for Asa, he had been normal before coming here, and so it felt unfitting that all of the other exceptional students had such reverence for his ability to kill and perform in Flying Class.