The Academy - Introductions (9 page)

Silas reached for my hand holding the belt buckle. “You
don’t have to wear that if it hurts.”

I shook my head. “It’s not that bad. Really. You just
surprised me.”

He let go, allowing me to buckle in. I noticed he didn’t
strap himself in. I wondered if it was because he was so tall that it didn’t
fit.

“What I want to know is how that guy got so close to you.”
Victor’s baritone voice nearly rose an octave. “Wasn’t she with you, Silas?”

“It’s not his fault,” I said. “He was taking care of the
tray when Greg walked over.”

“He had enough time to tell you his name and go with you
down that hallway. What were two doing in there?”

I blushed, touching my lower lip with my finger trying to
remember. “I... I was going for the restroom. I went looking for you all but
didn’t see you. I thought I’d slip into the bathroom where he couldn’t follow
me.”

“You’re probably lucky you didn’t make it,” Kota said. “If
he was determined, he could have followed you in and if no one else was
around...” He made a face and then he shook it off. “Next time just walk into
the guy’s bathroom if we’re in there.”

“No next time,” Victor said. “We’re not going to leave her
by herself long enough to let ‘Gregs’ be a problem.”

I wanted to cut in but they sounded so angry with me. I
wanted to bring my knees up and bury my head in it to hide the fact that I was
blinking back tears. I forced myself to look out the window. The trees and
buildings whizzed past and it was making me dizzy. There was no way I would let
them see how upset I was. I was glad they were safe. I was unhappy that my
first real adventure out turned into such a disaster.

The car fell into silence as Victor pulled into traffic on
the drive home. At some point I dared to look at the others. Victor was still
fuming but he seemed intent on staring straight ahead at the road. Kota
appeared busy with his phone.

Silas was glaring out the window. His jaw was set. His fist
was clenched so tightly, he was crumpling the music book in the bag between us.
I didn’t want him to ruin Victor’s music sheets. I reached over, placing a hand
softly on Silas’s forearm.

Silas blinked, turned his head slowly and gazed down at me.
I brushed my fingers over his fist, taking a hold of the other side of the bag.
When he realized what he was doing, he forced his fist open. I took it from him
and in an effort to ease the tension, tried to smile.

His eyes fell on my face. His lips parted until I could see
his teeth and his cheeks flushed. He offered a return smile. It disappeared
again. He turned back to the window.

I managed to calm myself a little but was still worried
about what everyone was thinking. Ideas ran through my head. They were thinking
how terrible it was to invite this girl along. They wondered about the best way
to ditch me, possibly ignoring me the whole semester.

I tried to quiet my thoughts but it was so upsetting to
think that I may have just lost the first friends I had ever come across. My
parents wouldn’t have to learn about this day and I wouldn’t have to worry
about telling them about anyone I’d met. No one will want to invite me over any
more now. I wanted to say I was probably being paranoid this time, too. It wasn’t
working. Who wanted to bring a girl around who would attract trouble and needed
to be babysat? I should have been the one to know what to do against unwanted
attention.

While everyone was distracted, I smoothed out the slight
crumple from Victor’s book. The bag opened a little and I took a peek at the
title.

Winter by Vivaldi.

That night, I was awake in my own bedroom on top of the
covers on my bed, and staring at the ceiling light. I was probably burning out
my eyes.

The car ride home had been completely quiet. Silas barely
looked at me as he left the car. Victor dropped me off at my house before going
to Kota's. His car was still parked in Kota’s drive. I’d been at the window of
my room a million times just to try to get a glimpse of them. There was a trail
of ruffled mauve carpet between my window and my bed. I’d wondered if at some
point I could take a walk outside, pass by Kota’s house and see if they noticed
but it seemed like such a stupid move. Would I look pathetic and needy when
they were trying to just quietly tell me to keep my distance? I’d cried a
little when I got home. My eyes felt cold and I probably looked like a mess. I
wouldn’t want them to see me like this.

I turned onto my side. My bed was pressed up against the wall
near the closet. There was a small bookshelf against another wall, only half
filled with worn novels. A green trunk sat under the window. The only odd part
about the room was that against the wall near the window was a small half door
that lead to some attic space.

The closet held only the small amount of clothes. My father
usually bought clothes for us as my mother never went out. The selection that
belonged to me was slight. I was smaller than my older sister so we couldn’t
swap clothes. Sometimes she passed down a t-shirt or pair of jeans but it was
rare.

There wasn’t a poster on the wall. No collection of photos.
No decorations. The slightly faded pink flower wallpaper were a luxury compared
to my last bedroom, which had stark white walls. I thought of Kota’s bedroom
and how similarly we kept the large space in the middle. I wondered what he
would think of my room and then found the thought pointless. He could never
come to my bedroom and as it was now, I wasn’t sure if he would want to.

Before yesterday, my room felt like the only safe spot. If
I stayed inside it, my mother couldn’t complain and punish me. Now that I’d had
a taste of freedom, of meeting people that were so nice to me, it felt more
like a prison than ever. Despite the fight with Greg, thoughts ran through my
head of the guys and how they made me feel. It was amazing. I wanted more.

The phone rang downstairs. I turned the music up a little
on the stereo box at the foot of my bed.

“Sang!” My mother call out from downstairs. “Phone!”

My eyes shot open. A phone call. Me?

I dashed down the stairs, and thundered through a hallway
into the kitchen. My mother stood barefoot on the tile, wearing a dingy mauve
robe, her two tone blond hair pulled back in a sloppy ponytail behind her head.
She was shorter than I was, but broader shouldered and slouching. Her glassy
blue eyes blazed at me. She started to hold the cordless phone to me but just
before I touched it, she pulled it back, reconsidering her position.

“Who’s calling you?” she asked me. Her voice was scratchy
and sharp.

I shrugged. I really had no idea. “Might be from the
school?”

She thought about it and slowly relinquished the cordless
phone to me.

I nervously took the receiver.
Please just go back to
your bedroom
, I thought. Her eyes shot lightning in my direction. I knew
what was coming.

“Hello?” I said into the phone.

“It’s Silas.”

My heart fluttered so hard in my chest it was difficult to
keep my feet on the ground. I tried to look unimpressed. My mother was still
staring at me. “Hi,” I said.

“I just wanted to make sure you got home safe.”

The silence stretched between us. My head was rattling with
what I could say to him that wouldn’t set my mother off in a barrage of
questions. “How did you know my number?”

“Kota had it.”

Wouldn’t Kota have told him I was okay? It made me wonder
if there was another reason why he called and he made up an excuse. “Oh.” I
wanted to ask further but I didn’t know how to phrase the question. How did
Kota manage to get the number when I didn’t even know it yet? My mother crossed
her arms in front of her. Her scowl made creases at the corner of her mouth and
around her eyes.
Oh please,
I thought,
not while I’m on the
phone. I don’t want Silas to hear.

“He said I should wait to call. He said you were probably
freaked out still from this afternoon and that we needed to give you a break.”

Kota had told them to avoid me! “I... I’m fine.”

“Who is it?” my mom said in a loud tone.

“It’s the school,” I said, loud enough for Silas to hear.
My mom looked at me as if she didn’t believe me but stalked off back to her
bedroom, or at least in that direction.

“Not safe to talk?” he asked.

“Uh huh,” I said, again trying to sound bored and
unimpressed in case my mother was still listening, hoping Silas would understand.

“I won’t be around tomorrow,” he said. “I’ve got practice.”

“That’s okay.” Was he thinking I would assume he would be
around? Or would he have come over if he didn’t have practice? His true meaning
whirled around in my head. What was practice? I wanted to run to my room with
the phone and shut everyone out but doing it would look so suspicious.

“I’ll talk to you later?” he asked.

There was a distinctive click and then the sound of
breathing. My mother had picked up another phone and was listening in.

“Yeah,” I said.

“‘Bye,” Silas said and hung up.

I held my breath, waiting and listening to the breathing on
the line.

“Hello?” my mother’s voice sounded like an echo in my ear
because I could hear her from her bedroom as well as in the phone. “Who’s on
the line?”

I cringed and pulled it away from my face. I heard the line
click again and then I switched off the phone.

“Sang! Come here!”

I shuddered where I stood, gently placing the receiver onto
the cradle. I steeled myself, readying my lies.

Keeping friends was harder than I thought.

“Sang,” my mother spat as she leaned on the edge of her
bed. The mattress sagged under her weight. When I was eight, my mother went to
the hospital with a sinus infection, stayed for a month, and came back with a
bottle of morphine and was kept to her bed. My parents never told us what was
wrong with her, but I overheard whispered in their late evening discussions
about her liver and pancreas. Sometimes at night she cried out in pain and my
father took her to the hospital. She held her bottle of pills in her hands now,
twisting her palm over the cap as if trying to remember when she took the last
one.

“Yes?” I said in a near whisper. I stepped barefoot onto
the cream carpet of her bedroom, doing my best to look bewildered. If I could
only make her believe me this time.

“Who called you?”

“The school,” I said. My eyes flitted to they light brown
and ivy green wallpaper along the walls and the whirling wicker fan above her
bed. Her eyes were too intense for me. “It was a reminder about registration.”

Her thin lips pursed. She put her bottle of pills down and
smoothed her chubby fingers over the covers of her quilt blanket. “It looked
like you were trying to hide something.”

I sighed. “I’m not used to getting phone calls.”

“Why was it a man? Why did he only ask for you?” Her eyes
narrowed at me, picking the holes at my story. “Why didn’t he also ask about
your sister?”

“I don’t know,” I said, my fingers fluttered to the base of
my throat. “Maybe he’ll call back for her in a minute. Or maybe it’s because
I’m younger...”

She chuffed. “No. You’re lying. I don’t think the school
has our phone number.” She stood up and then pointed a finger at me. “Who did
you give this number to?”

My eyes widened and I took a step back, accidentally
bumping into the wall. “No one! I don’t even know our phone number.”

“It sounds like a lie.” She crossed the room toward me.
“Why are men calling to talk to you?”

“I don’t know!” I cried out, turning my face away from
hers, pressing myself back against the wall. Please, no. Not now.

She grabbed my arm and started wrenching me until I was on
my knees. I cried out in pain. “Who called you?” she asked through her teeth.

“The... school,” I sobbed. What would she do to me? There was
no way I was going to tell her about Silas. She could do what she wanted to me.

Her nose flared and I felt the sweat from her palms as she
pulled me up to my feet. I cried as she yanked me in to the kitchen. My heart
was pounding and my body was shaking. Why wouldn’t she just believe me this
once? Why couldn’t I call people like other girls?

“Get on your knees,” she said.

I closed my eyes, wrapping my arms around myself and sunk
to the floor. It wasn’t uncommon for her to punish us by having us kneel on the
floor for hours at a time. I thought this was one of those cases. If that was
the case, I would have been grateful.

She started moving around me, pulling vinegar from the
shelf and lemon juice from the fridge. I didn’t understand but I kowtowed to her
on the floor, crying. I whispered to the floor, pleading under my breath that
she would stop and just send me to my room.

She created a concoction of half vinegar and half lemon
juice in a glass and then handed it to me. “Drink all of this. You are never,
ever to let a boy call here.”