The Healing Power of Sugar: The Ghost Bird Series: #9 (The Academy Ghost Bird Series) (15 page)

I had to agree. I wrote quickly on a piece of paper from my notebook.

How’d you get out of class? Was what she said about being put into the express lane something they can really do? I was worried. How’d you get in here?

I was about to write more when another foot, this one on my left, slid under the wall. The nice leather shoe was familiar, but I wasn’t sure until I picked up the note under it and recognized Kota’s handwriting.

Pass me your answer sheet. Gabriel’s too. All the packets are the same. I may as well do something while we’re all waiting.

All waiting? For what? I put the notes down on the desk and put my hands over my eyes for a moment. I couldn’t believe this. A sinking feeling hit me right then, but I had to pull myself together before I could confirm it.

I checked on the monitor, who was completely absorbed in her reading. I scooted back in my chair a little, reaching back in a pretend stretch; I had to see for myself.

Seven familiar heads and backs sat quietly inside their cubicles. I couldn’t believe I’d missed them before. Kota was the only one to my left, everyone else was down the right: Gabriel, Luke, Nathan, Victor, Silas, North.

North was easier to see than the others because he was further away and his chair was out more. He had removed his uniform jacket, down to the black T-shirt he’d worn underneath. He was slumped over his chair, and might have been sleeping for all I knew.

There were a few other students sitting beyond where North was, and a few more on the other side of Kota, but the Academy boys managed to sit all together and seemed to have saved the seat between them for me.

I tucked my chair back closer to my desk, putting my head down and smiling through a flood of relief tears. I remembered back to the first time I got a detention when they’d all volunteered to stay with me. Here I was again in trouble, and somehow they’d gotten here even before I did.

When one was in trouble, they did the punishment together.

I swallowed several times and was suddenly grateful there were walls between us so they couldn’t see me in my messy state.

After I put a heart up in the corner next to a ‘Hi’, I sent my answer sheet to Kota, amused he wanted to play with the SAT prep test and finish mine for me. I then quickly finished a note to Gabriel.

Send me your answer sheet. Kota said he’d do our tests. How did you all know I was down here and get here ahead of me?

I quickly jotted down what I could remember, important things Mr. Blackbourne often asked me after I dealt with Mr. Hendricks, like things I noticed on the desk, or gut feelings I had when I was actually in the room. When I was done with my note, I passed it along, I didn’t have much else to do. I checked the time from a clock on the wall, but I wasn’t sure if it was right. If it was, we were still in first period. If Mr. Blackbourne didn’t come for us and we had to stay here all day, then what were we going to do?

Gabriel sent a note back. I picked it up.

Inside was the start of a tic-tac-toe game, with an X already in one of the spots.

Below it was another message.

Victor wants to know if you want his cell phone to play with. If you do, you should probably have mine. He might get caught if we’re sliding it all the way down. Just wait until I get done with texting Mr. Blackbourne.

I tried not to laugh and swallowed back the emotion, trying to calm myself down. I sighed and took in more air, this time feeling relieved. They were here. It might work out okay.

I thought of what I had in my bag, nothing but textbooks and homework, which was useless now. None of it would matter next week if I changed classes anyway.

Did anything I’d done matter? I thought of all the work I’d done, the homework and studying for tests, and none if it would count. I might as well have not done it.

It was in that moment I realized exactly how useless homework and classes were to the guys. It seemed like in the Academy they didn’t do any homework, at least not in the traditional sense. Going through an entire year of classes that didn’t count for anything, didn’t have any importance to their future, seemed even more tiresome.

And with my future in question, I started thinking of how grades simply didn’t matter, when they used to be so important. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to do well, but that if my future was with the boys and the Academy, withdrawing from classes wouldn’t make a difference.

But what was going to happen for the rest of the school year?

I supposed if the boys weren’t worried about it, then I shouldn’t be, either. Or maybe they simply were waiting to make a decision about it later.

Besides, there was Dr. Green to worry about.

I wrote back:

How’s Dr. Green doing? And if anyone has a book that isn’t a textbook to pass along, I can read.

I didn’t want to take one of their phones, but if we had to sit there for a while, I wanted to do something. I wasn’t sure if I could focus on a book, but at least they would think I was entertained. I appreciated the semi-alone time to think.

There was some shuffling down the line. The woman at the desk seemed to either not hear or ignore everything we were doing. She got after some other students for talking, but that was it. As long as we didn’t try to talk or do too much that was obviously not what we were supposed to do, she didn’t seem to care.

The next time Gabriel passed something over, it was a small hardback edition of one of the Hardy Boys series, with some folded notes sticking out of it. I opened it to find Silas had written on the inside cover.

I like this one. - Silas

Silas seemed to like the Hardy Boys. He’d used the reference more than once.

The notes were from the other boys, some just saying hello, the others offering phones and reiterating how mean Ms. Wright was and how ticked off they were about me getting ambushed like that.

Luke sent down a wrapped piece of gum taped to some paper.

It was a nice offering, but now that I wasn’t in too much trouble, at least for the moment, I was wondering if I couldn’t write to him and talk.

No one was talking about Mr. Blackbourne or Dr. Green though, not even Gabriel, and I’d asked him specifically.

Were they avoiding the topic?

I studied the Hardy Boys book while I thought about what was happening. I wondered where Mr. Hendricks was and what he would have to say about this.

As time passed, staring and waiting began to get tedious. My thoughts were going around in circles and I suddenly envied Kota, keeping himself busy. I passed the tic-tac-toe game back and forth with Gabriel and in between moves, I read the book. I thought about what to write to Luke, wondering how to pass it down to him without anyone else reading it.

Maybe I should write a note to each of them, folding them nicely with their names on the outside, so they wouldn’t be tempted to look and read each other’s’ as they went down the line.

Suddenly, Kota’s foot slid under, and I picked up his note.

We’re trying to get to the bottom of why Ms. Wright went after Sang. Mr. Blackbourne doesn’t know who this Vera is, but it does seem more than one name was dropped by her into different office at once, essentially pointing out things that are wrong inside the school that went unnoticed before. We don’t know if Mr. Hendricks is working with this Vera, but he’s continuing what she started by pointing out what he knows, including rumors about Mr. McCoy when he isn’t even here. There’s something else going on here. He was overheard talking about something about the police. Pass this on. We may just need to leave so Sang’s not in the middle of an investigation.

Luke: check that door in the middle of this hallway and see if it’ll open. Do it the moment the monitor takes a break.

I stared at the page, worried that Dr. Green wasn’t mentioned again. Was it not a big deal enough to mention? Had the concentration turned to figuring out what’s going on with these letters this Vera?

I quickly passed the note on to Gabriel, and then stared at the book, forgetting about reading for now and temporarily about my plan to talk to Luke. My heart raced. We might need to leave soon.

Why would Mr. Hendricks add to the mess? Was he trying to point fingers at everyone else so no one looked at him? That seemed likely, but was this planned by him, or brought on because Vera started it?

What it meant for the guys was confusing me as well. They wanted to leave. It didn’t seem they got what they wanted. They wanted to get to the bottom of what Mr. Hendricks was up to, and possibly find some missing money. They hadn’t found it yet. Could they just walk away?

Could I if they asked?

I waited quietly, listening to the shuffles as the note got passed down the line until it ended with North. From the sounds of zipping up book bags, it sounded like things were being gathered, like they were ready to walk out now.

Were we really about to leave? Forever? I couldn’t believe it. What did that mean for me? My heart was in my throat, sure that the school board would call my father if I left.

He might have to come back, which would mean I’d have to go back home.

In a panic, I started writing a note to Kota.

Should I leave the school if you do? If I’m absent one more day at this point, then the school board may call my dad about this, or there might be some sort of hearing because I’ve been absent. However that works. Even if it isn’t true that I missed so many unexcused days, Ms. Wright, believes it. If you have to go, I understand, but if I leave, they might send the police or someone, won’t they? Mr. Blackbourne said not to do anything that might involve police or officials.

I dropped the note to the floor and slid it under my foot to pass it on to Kota, intending to lift my foot to reveal the message.

Kota’s foot slid over mine, the rubber sole of his shoe covering the material in the Keds I wore. The touch shocked me. I wondered if he’d heard me shuffling and writing quickly.

He didn’t let go at first, simply holding on to my foot with his, the pressure of his foot encouraging.

I almost felt he knew what I was going to say. He was telling me not to panic.

I appreciated it, but then checked over my shoulder to make sure the monitor wasn’t paying attention.

Kota bent over in his cubicle, and lifted my foot to remove the note. He tapped my ankle and I slid it back into my own area.

I heard Kota open the message. I put my head on my desk, staring at nothing, and simply listened to the boys shuffling notes back and forth and pencils scratching on paper. My heart was in my throat. I almost wanted Kota to tell me I was wrong, that it was all going to be okay. More than anything, if they had to leave, I wanted to leave with them. I wanted to dismiss Mr. Blackbourne’s warning that we should go. My school year was ruined already, so what did it matter?

Kota’s pencil began scratching and I began to tremble with anxiety. I wrapped my arms around my stomach, trying to hold myself together while I waited. The suspense was agony. At least in classes I could carefully text them, or could see them and get a reassuring glance. There was so much going on, and I was electrified with energy, but yet I had to sit still and try to stay calm.

Kota finished and slid his note over. I picked it up, unfolding it and swallowing, trying to gain some courage to read.

You’re right. We won’t leave unless it’s a dire emergency. I’m sorry. I’m as frustrated as everyone else and wasn’t thinking. We’d still be able to fix things, but let’s not cause more problems for us. Unless there’s an emergency, we can sit here today and maybe through until the holiday weekend. It will give us time to come up with a plan. Maybe we can fix your schedule, or give you a different one that will still work.

We’re not finished here at the school, but we may have to change a few things. I don’t know what this all means yet, and we’re just waiting to see how far all this pointing fingers at everyone goes. It’s a matter of not drawing attention of the police at the wrong things, like us, or at Mr. Hendricks before we find the missing money and replace it.

Try not to worry. No matter what happens, I’ll fix it.

I swallowed the emotion swelling through me again. I held the note and breathed out a sigh. Part of me had hoped he was going to tell all of us to leave right now, but suspension would have to do. A plan was what we really needed.

Waiting was going to be painful.

I only hoped this was the right path.

For the rest of the day, the boys napped or read or played phone games as we all waited for news. By lunch, they were all antsy and I was second-guessing my decision to stay put. I was sure Kota or one of the boys would be notified if we really did need to leave.

For a while, I sat up, ready. If they said again we should leave, I wouldn’t hesitate. I just hoped the police wouldn’t come after me, or my father would return.

I was very aware of the possible consequences: My father could pull me out of school. The school could put my parents into serious trouble.

The truth about my existence might be found out, about my mother and what my father had possibly done.

Or the authorities could find out that I was living with boys, that my sister was living alone in a house. Would we be put into foster homes?

The more I thought about things, the more anxious I got and when nothing happened, the seconds on the clock seemed to tick away too slowly.

Finally, at lunch the monitor asked one of the regular students who was in suspension to take orders and figure out what everyone wanted. We were given the option of the regular school lunch, which the student would get for us with our money, or we could eat what we had brought from home. We were permitted to shuffle and talk a little so we could sort ourselves out.