The Academy--Chapter Four

Chapter Four, everybody.

For the next few days, all I did with my life was study.
I didn’t see my sister again. I didn’t talk to Alastair. I didn’t even speak to Avery.
It was nearing November, and the pressure of upcoming tests suffocated me. All that occupied my thoughts was vital material that I needed to pass exams. Several exams. Exams that would surely stress my brain to paralysis if I didn’t cram every last vocabulary word and fact about the atom into it.
I sunk safely into an unsociable shell to protect my brain from any other drama that might enter into it. My emotions became fragile as I lost sleep over worrying about schoolwork. I became incredibly irritable.
The thought of my sister’s note carefully, furtively left my mind.
~ ~ ~
“Cadence,” Mrs. Gare said.
My head slowly came out of the book that I was desperately attempting to finish before the report on it was due in four days.
“Cadence,” she repeated sharply.
I glanced over at my friend. Her long, blonde hair cascaded in delicate curls over her entire desk. Her head was buried in her arms, and her back heaved as she breathed slowly and peacefully.
“Cadence Dauffrey, you stupid girl, I’ll throw you out of the school if you don’t start paying attention!” Mrs. Gare clenched a large amount of Cadence’s hair and yanked her head off of the desk. Cadence’s eyes, large and innocent, frantically flew around the room and stopped at Mrs. Gare’s face.
“Do you hear me?!” the teacher nearly shrieked.
“Yes, Mrs. Gare, I hear you, please,” Cadence sputtered, tears streaming steadily down her cheeks.
“Get out of my classroom.” I was surprised at how cool and easily the words fell off of Mrs. Gare’s icy tongue. They rolled out. Carefully, craftily; Mrs. Gare justified these words in the exact way that she spoke them.
Cadence gathered up her materials, shaking. Running out the door, she did not realize that she had dropped her calculator. Mrs. Gare sent the large device straight across the room and through the thin glass window in the mahogany.
A gasp was locked in my dry throat. I took a long look at the other students in the room.
Every one sat calmly in their seats, reading, writing, and thinking. Not one had been effected by this occurrence.
I quickly snapped my head back downward, appearing as though I’d been reading the entire time. My eyes, though, read nothing from the page in front of me.
What kind of a classroom was I in? What kind of people was I surrounded by?
Why was I here?
The worst thought that came to me was the fact that I had seen events such as this happen before. I’d seen at least one every month in at least one of my classes.
But I hadn’t seen them. I hadn’t looked. I didn’t care whether someone got in trouble or not, because they deserved it. If a teacher saw fault in them, then they were dirt. They could be treated in whichever way the professor desired.
And I would do my part. I would avoid them in all things possible, shun them, loathe them. I wouldn’t sit by them, talk to them, think of them. And I would tell on them if they did any such thing again.
Because those were the rules.
And, finally, I understood Alastair.