“So you’re Michael, our late registration.” He checked off a box on his clipboard. “No parents, siblings, or relatives with you today?”
“No,” Cassius responded. “No parents.”
“Very well. I’ll take your bag and you can have a seat with the others while we wait for everyone to show up.”
Cassius gripped tightly to the strap of the pouch. “Is it okay if I take it on with me? It’s just a small school bag. There’s some reading I want to go over on the way.”
The driver frowned, then craned his neck to glance behind Cassius’s shoulder. “Fine. It’ll fit below the seat. You’re okay.”
“Thank you.”
Relieved, he stepped to the side of the shuttle and moved toward a red-headed boy. The kid was engrossed in a book held inches in front of his face. Only four students had shown up so far. One girl and three boys, counting Cassius. He kept the bag close to his body as he sat on the ground next to the kid, avoiding eye contact.
The boy shut the book immediately. “I’m Colin.”
Cassius groaned inwardly. He should have brought earplugs.
Colin scooted closer. “You just registered, yeah?”
He nodded, looking at the ground.
“So’d you just find out about the Horizon College recently or something?”
“Yeah,” he whispered.
“What’s your focus?”
He turned around and met the kid’s eyes for the first time. “My what?”
“You know, what are you into? Philosophy? Literature? Art criticism?”
“Oh,” he started. “Philosophy, I guess.”
“Me too!” Colin grinned. “I hear Horizon’s the best. So as a fellow academic, I’ve gotta ask, who’s your favorite?”
Cassius stared at the kid’s pasty, overeager face, wondering if he should even attempt a response. Philosophy was one of the Wasted Subjects on the Surface. Didn’t do anybody any good.
Colin leaned closer. “Sartre? Descartes? Hypatia?”
He could have been making up words for all Cassius knew, but he realized he had to play along. “Yeah,” he started. “He’s good.”
“Who? Hypatia?”
“Sure.”
“Hypatia’s a woman.” Colin frowned.
Cassius cursed mentally, but didn’t miss a beat, summoning the best fake smile he could. “Of course she is. It’s a joke.”
“Oh.” Colin scratched the back of his head. “Funny.”
Cassius bowed his head, sighing. He had a suspicion the entire flight was going to be “funny.” He hoped he wouldn’t be tempted to use the pistol in his bag before landing.
“Hey,” Colin grinned. “We should be seat partners.”
Cassius sighed. The pistol was sounding pretty good right about now.
15
I wake with a sharp yelp as something hits the back of my head. In a panic, I realize that I’m sitting at my desk in the middle of Mrs. Dembo’s class. She pauses her lecture mid-sentence as everyone turns to stare at me. Did I really just yelp in the middle of class?
Barely concealed snickering spreads from the back of the room as Mrs. Dembo’s dark eyes latch onto me. I keep my head inches from the top of the desk. Teacher stares are the creepiest things ever. The longer they do it, the creepier it feels. This stare is like a marathon.
After thoroughly inspecting me, she throws a death glare at the gigglers in the back of the room and continues her lesson.
It’s not like she can blame me for falling asleep. After all, it’s her fault that I didn’t get any quality shut-eye last night. Her and the other teachers.
When Dembo’s not looking, I spin around to meet August Bergmann’s smirking face. He sits at the desk behind me, a rubber band spinning around his finger. Congratulations, moron. You managed to humiliate me for the umpteenth time.
“No girls around to protect you now,” he whispers.
I glare at him, though it’s not like I’m gonna do anything. I’d just get in trouble. After all, he’s not the one who fell asleep in the middle of class. He’s not the one all the teachers are secretly watching. “Leave me alone.”
He shoots me an I’m-so-much-better-than-you-times-a-million look. “You and me Fisher, tonight outside the rec room.”
“Wait,” I smirk, “you asking me out on a date?”
“You come alone,” he sneers. “We’ll see how tough you are without Rodriguez there to save you.”
I turn and lay my head on the desk. It’s the first time the two of us agree on something. Eva Rodriguez is officially banned from being my friend, if she ever was in the first place.
They’ve got thirty of us crammed in here. Normally we’re in smaller pull-out groups, spread around the Academy, but today we have to look all prestigious for Visitation. That’s why I’m wearing this irritating, too-tight- in-the-shoulders suit and the whole classroom’s decorated with artsy posters and fake writing assignments and schedules. All of us kids are crammed onto the sixth floor while the adult agents get to lounge around in the lower levels. Our visitors won’t see any more of the Academy than Alkine wants. Of course the way I’m feeling right now, I might just jump on my desk and holler like a madman. “We steal Pearls from the government, kids! Come join our top secret organization-so secret that the teachers will lie to you, too!”
That’d show Alkine.
I fight to keep my eyes open. It gets harder with each endless word that spills from Dembo’s mouth.
“Please open your textbooks to page 276,” she says.
I groan, lifting the heavy textbook from under my desk and halfheartedly flipping through the pages. It’s ridiculous. We never use textbooks, especially ones about “the use of predicate logic.” As far as I know, the Academy’s only got one set of books for each class, dragged out unceremoniously each Visitation Day.
Eva-a.k.a. traitor friend-sits to the side of me, diligently running her fingers through the pages of her textbook. She stops only to flash me quick, disapproving glances as if to say, “Can’t you just try, Jesse Fisher?”
After what Avery and I found out last night, I’m not sure I see the point in trying to be the perfect Skyship student.
Avery met me outside my room this morning, still mass apologetic for dragging me up into the vent. I told her I wasn’t mad. Not at her.
“Jesse.” Mrs. Dembo shifts her attention straight to me. “Care to start us off?”
I glance over to Eva’s book to see what page we’re on before looking up to Mrs. Dembo.
She frowns. “The text, Jesse. Read us a few paragraphs aloud.”
I nod through clenched teeth. We don’t usually do a lot of reading out loud here, especially in classes with this many people. With August sitting right behind me it’s just asking for trouble.
I labor through, clearing the first paragraph well enough, understanding next to nothing. But just as I’m starting to feel pretty confident, the words run together on the page. I stumble on the next sentence. August chuckles.
My vision blurs. I blink, shaking my head and trying again.
The words won’t come out.
Then something explodes inside my chest. Like, literally, explodes.
The jolt of pain stops me cold. I freeze, staring at the front of the room, eyes wide, mouth hanging open.
