The Academy - Introductions (23 page)

Once we were in the main hallway, the crowd thinned out a
little. There were tables lined up near a large glass window that overlooked
the center, open aired courtyard. There was one large staircase in the middle
of the hallway with parents sitting on the first few steps. Further down the
hall there was a line of vending machines and along the opposite wall was a
trophy case. I didn’t see any classrooms.

“We’ll have to split up,” my dad said. “The tables are
divided by grade level.”

“I’ll be fine,” I said. “There’s my table. You go with
Marie.”

“He can go with you,” she said. Her eyes were on a group of
girls crowding around her grade table.

“Fill out your form and come back,” Dad said to me. “I’ll
have to approve and sign it.”

I nodded to him. The line to my table was long. I moved to
the end of it to wait my turn. I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around.

“Hey!” Luke called into my opposite ear, scaring me.

I smiled, happy to be found. “You made it.”

“I saw you come in. I thought it would be pretty awkward if
I just walked up to you.”

“I didn’t even see you.”

“I’m pretty good at stalking girls.” He pulled out his cell
phone and tapped something in. “We’ve been waiting for you. I’m letting them
know you’re here.”

Within moments they all appeared. North was in his black
clothes, although his shirt was collared with a Gucci logo on the front pocket.
Silas had a white collared shirt. Kota wore a white shirt with a green tie.
Nathan, Gabriel and Victor wore slacks and different colored Ralph Lauren and
Hilfiger polo shirts. To me, they were all dressed a lot nicer than most of the
students, who wore ripped jeans, baggy t-shirts and sneakers. I realized Marie
was right to wear what she had. She fit in better than I did with the other
students. I was glad the guys were there. I didn’t feel so out of place with
them around.

“It’s about time,” Victor said to me, frowning. “I’ve been
here for hours.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. My cheeks heated and I pressed a
finger to my lower lip. “Did you all have to wait for me?”

Glance were exchanged. Had it not occurred to them that I’m
just one girl? They didn’t have to wait. I felt bad enough that any of them
were hanging around for me. How much trouble could I get in to today?

“Don’t worry about it,” Victor said, stuffing his hands
into his pockets and shrugging. “We don’t have anything better to do today
anyway. I was just tired of standing at the door.”

With the boys standing with me, the line was a little
crowded. Kota started talking about something with Luke and the others but over
the noise of the crowd, I couldn’t hear very well. My eyes shifted to the other
students. There was a group of girls not too far away looking in on us. One of
them glanced my way, her face looking angry and it confused me. I turned away,
assuming the look wasn’t meant for me. Still, it was intimidating.

“Did you all sign up already?” I asked.

Collective nods. “We won’t have schedules until we get them
in the mail on Monday. We start Tuesday,” Kota said.

“It’s all a big pain in the ass,” Nathan said and then
grumbled something under his breath that I couldn’t understand.

“You’ll have to watch your language,” Kota warned. “School
might not have started yet, but there’s still rules.”

Nathan rolled his eyes but didn’t argue the point.

“We’ll get out of this line. We’re too big of a group,”
Kota said. “Who’s staying with her?”

They all said “me” at once. I laughed but when they looked
at me as if they didn’t understand why I was laughing, I stopped short.

“Victor and Silas, you stay here. North and Luke, go tail
her sister. Just keep your distance. I don’t want to scare her. The rest of us
will head out to that courtyard. Sang, when you’re done, we’ll meet out there
and we’ll take a tour together.”

They were going to keep an eye of my sister, too? I
blushed, not having thought of that. Again I admired the way Kota took charge
of the group. Nothing was argued over. When Kota made a decision, they simply
fell in line.

Victor and Silas stayed by my side while the rest disappeared
into the crowd.

“What classes were you getting again?” Victor asked.

I pulled out the paper that Kota prepared for me and showed
it to him.

“You’re missing one, you know,” he said. “You have to pick
seven.”

I felt my heart flipping into a panic. “I thought the paper
said six.”

“You have to pick one more just in case a class got filled
up.”

I blew out a breath, feeling like grumbling.

“Don’t sweat it,” Silas said, smoothing fingers through his
dark hair, brushing away the locks that fell into his eyes. “Just pick an art
class.”

I hesitated, unsure of what to pick. My mind went blank as
to what other classes there could be.

“What about a music class?” Victor offered.

“Would you be in that one?” I asked.

He frowned. “Probably not. I’ve got an advanced piano class
to take.” He wrapped a hand around his opposite arm, rubbing at it. “Yeah,
maybe not a music class. No one else takes one.”

“I guess the winner is art,” I said. “I don’t think I can take
anything else. I mean, the interesting stuff is reserved for higher grade
students.”

“What would you want?” Silas asked. “I mean, if there
wasn’t a grade restriction.”

“Hm, maybe a language? Or a writing class? I’m not sure. I
wish I’d looked more at the book.” I looked at my paper where before I had met
Kota, Japanese and a few other classes had been scribbled in. I had crossed
them out to put in Kota’s suggestions. My paper already looked like a mess. I
supposed it didn’t matter. If I ended up in an art class with Gabriel, that
wouldn’t be bad.

The line was moving. I was going to be next.

“Don’t worry about it too much,” Silas said, putting a hand
on my shoulder. His face tilted to look down at me. “Just fill up with
prerequisites. You’ve got time to learn the stuff you want.”

I nodded. It was all I could do. I shared a small smile
with him.

“You’re up,” Victor said. He quickly reached for my hand,
and gave it a gentle squeeze. “We’ll stand by out of the way.”

My eyes slid to see if my sister or my father were around
and had noticed the guys touching me and Victor holding my hand. No one around
seemed to notice.

It took twenty minutes working with a school counselor to
line up my classes. I showed her my list and she tried to tell me three AP
classes were too much. I insisted it was fine but she wouldn’t listen. She gave
me AP English and AP Geometry. After that, she wrote down gym class, the typing
class, without asking me, and the general biology class, and then wrote down
American history.

“I think I prefer world history,” I told her.

“World history is an AP class. You can only have two.”

I frowned. This wasn’t the lineup I really wanted. I felt
uncomfortable that she changed things and that I couldn’t confirm with Kota.

She asked if I had alternate choices. I suggested art and
she said the art class was already full. I tried to look over the catalog but
she got annoyed with me quickly. She wrote in choir and wood shop.

“It won’t matter,” she said. “You will probably get in your
first choices.” She handed me the paper with her signature on it. “Go get your
parents to sign this. Take it to room 103. It’s down the hall and to the left.”

The table was surrounded by other students all grumbling
after me that I was taking so long. My cheeks felt hot. Did she have to be so
short with me? I scanned for Victor and Silas. I saw Silas’s tall frame over
the other students. He stood across the hall.

I pointed to my paper in the air and then pointed to where
I could see my dad. He nodded to me and then pointed to his own eyes. He’ll be
watching.

I darted my way past the other students. I found my dad
standing by the staircase.

“Marie’s done,” he said. “She went to the band room to see
where it was.”

I imagined North and Luke was following her. I wonder if
she noticed. “I just need you to sign this.” I handed him the paper.

“You already crumpled it,” he said. “Two advanced classes?”
he looked at me. “Is that okay with you?”

I shrugged. “It’s fine. It’s all stuff I have to take anyway.”
My heart was throbbing. I tried to shake it off. Maybe I was going to get in
over my head with too many AP classes. There was nothing to do about it now.

He took a pen from his pocket and scrawled his name at the
bottom. “Where do you take this?”

“There’s a classroom down the hall I think.”

“Get to it. Are you going to tour the building?”

I nodded.

“I’m going to wait in the car. I’ve got some phone calls to
make. Try to keep it short. Find your sister when you’re done and head out to
the car.”

I nodded and watched him go. When was the last time we
talked? Before we moved? Even now when we had time to talk, he walked off to
make phone calls. I thought I should be disappointed or sad but I wasn’t. I was
empty. Strangers in a strange family.

I weaved my way again through the throng of students
collecting with each other and talking about classes. I was trying to find my
way back to Silas and Victor so they could walk with me.

At some point I was pushed as some students were goofing off.
I ended up pressed up against a man in a large brown, corduroy suit. He turned
around to look at me. He wore glasses, had brown hair, a bristle mustache and
watery eyes. He had a light brown pair of slacks and an oddly colored orange
plaid tie.

“No need to push,” he said. His name tag was pinned to the
breast of his coat. Vice Principal Mr. McCoy.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. I swept my eyes down. “I didn’t
mean to. It’s just crowded in here.”

He grumbled. “Kids in a hurry to get into school and the
moment you’re in, you’re doing anything to get out again.” He backed himself
off and then looked me over. His eyes hovered over the blouse I was wearing and
then smoothed down over my waist and to my legs. “You also wear skirts that are
too short,” he said. “What’s your name?”

My eyes widened. I wanted to glance around for Silas but
Mr. McCoy stood right in front of me, his arms crossing. He wasn’t about to let
me escape. “I’m Sang.”

“Last name?”

“Sorenson.”

“Hm,” he said. “Hippies with their names. What kind of mother
names her kid Song?”

I bit my lip, too afraid to correct him. My heart
thundered. School hadn’t started yet and I was already in trouble!

“Your skirt is too short. You’re going to have to go home
and change. We can’t allow students to walk around like this.”

My mouth fell open. “I’m almost done,” I suggested. “I’ll
just turn this in and I can...”

“I don’t think so.” He reached for the sheet of paper in my
hands, ripping it from me. He looked at my list of classes. “Choir and typing.
How typical.”

I bowed my head again, my eyes glassing over with tears.
Why was he doing this to me?

“I’ll keep this. You tell your parents your clothes aren’t
appropriate. Go home and change and then come back.”

“Mr. McCoy,” called a voice. We both turned to where the
speaker had called from.

A man approached with sandy blond hair, the gentle curls
cut to the middle of his ears. His eyes were a dazzling green and his face was
just as kind as his voice. He was a head taller than me with tapered shoulders
and a trim body. He had a heart shaped face and appeared young. Maybe 19? It
surprised me. I wondered if he was a senior or a recent graduate who stopped by
to help with registration day. His wore khaki pants, a white shirt and a green
tie, Gucci loafers.

“I was just looking for you, Mr. McCoy.” He turned to me,
looking down at my face. He used his forefinger to push away a lock of hair
that fell in his eyes. “I’m sorry. Am I interrupting?”

“No,” Mr. McCoy said. “She’s going home to change before
she’s allowed to register.”

I felt my lip trembling. How humiliating.

The man raised an eyebrow at me, looking me over. “And what
appears to be the problem?”

“Her skirt is too short.”

His lips pursed. “I believe the rule book states that a
skirt must be as long as a lady’s fingertips when she has her hands pressed to
her sides.” He motioned to me with a finger. “Miss, would you put your hands to
your sides, please?” His tone was so gentle. I wanted to do anything he
suggested.

I snapped straight as a rod. My hands pressed neatly to my thighs.
I might have scrunched my elbows a little, but even so, my skirt was at least
an inch and a half longer than my longest finger.

“It appears she’s within regulation,” he said.

“I don’t think it is appropriate for her to wear it,” Mr.
McCoy said. His teeth were clenched together.