Secrecy: Olde Earth Academy: Year One Page 4

  Am I signing up to go to prison? I scratched at my temple and dragged my sight over the words once more.

  “You can keep the copy.” Mr. Suthering shifted in his seat to bring his ankle up to rest on his opposite knee. “We have a long car ride, and it can be an extensive read.” He gestured to the booklet of the NDA.

  Extensive read? I refrained from smirking. Sure, it was a lengthy document, but it was no Moby Dick. It was a trivial read for an extensive reader like me. Oh, no. Books! “Can I bring my tablet?”

  He shook his head.

  “Any paperbacks?”

  Another shake. “No need for them. Our libraries will not disappoint.”

  I nodded. Wait. Libraries? More than one? Now that sounded promising, but like most of my peers, I did most of my reading on an electronic device. There wasn’t enough room to hoard physical books in a trailer. My ereader had thousands of titles.

  “And you’ll receive your tablet when you check in to your dormitory.”

  Aha. So I’d get a new one. Cool. The battery would be fresh and last longer, for sure. Maybe I could transfer some of my favorites reads later.

  “Well, I’m ready.” Sabine flounced back into the living room with her backpack slung over one shoulder.

  That was fast. It all was. In a matter of hours, my life was metamorphosing. Could I jump into the whirlwind this quickly? I mean, I’d never even heard of this place before.

  “As soon as we have the signatures, we’ll be ready to depart.”

  I glanced up at Mr. Suthering staring at me. I refused to be hurried into blindly signing something.

  “Dad?” Sabine insisted. “What are you waiting for? Just sign it already. We’ll be able to call and stuff.”

  “I did sign it. All of it.”

  “Layla?”

  I frowned, trying to read again about how we were allowed two trips home during the academic year—if desired. Sabine stomped to my side, though, and leaned closer to snipe again. “Layla? What are you waiting for?”

  “I’m just reading the document.” Like you should have.

  “Just— Just sign it already.”

  I cocked a brow at her, not missing the desperation in her whine. If I didn’t sign, she wouldn’t get to go. I’d already told Dad we’d both go. Yet, I couldn’t rush into this agreement. I struggled to take faith in the promises and warnings—albeit with vague wording—that Mr. Suthering was offering to me via the document in my hands.

  Oh, the heck with it. He did say I could read it later. It wasn’t like I was enlisting in servitude. I huffed and grabbed the pen on the coffee table. Seconds later, my tiny, neatly cursive autograph dried underneath Dad’s wholly illegible and forgeable scrawled name.

  Not like I’d ever pass up this opportunity.

  Sabine jumped and clapped. Like a cheerleader with a maraca on her back. She must have put her box of makeup in her backpack and nothing else.

  Priorities, after all. I rolled my eyes and stood.

  “Excellent.” Mr. Suthering stooped to the table and gathered the documents together. “Again, I realize this is a bit of a rush—”

  “I’ll say it is!” Sabine nodded and rocked her shoulders in an impromptu dance move.

  Mr. Suthering stilled his hands and deadpanned at her. I bet most of the kids they invited to their prestigious top-secret school showed enthusiasm at being selected. But not all of them would pull off a weird dance routine.

  Yeah. See what you did extending the invite to her?

  He acknowledged me with a brief tilt of his head. “But if you can get your belongings together, we can head out shortly.”

  Dismissed. No problem. It wasn’t like I wanted to stick by Sabine acting like a hyper fool. My only hope was that Mr. Suthering wouldn’t assume I was an airheaded idiot by association. I retrieved my journal, some panties, three outfits of running gear—because they were just so perfectly broken in, and the one paperback I had on the shelf. Yeah, they had libraries, but if this was going to be a long trip, I needed a buffer to help me avoid too many conversations. Oh, and my toothbrush. My backpack felt bare, but I never was a materialistic girl.

  I faced Dad and Sabine hugging in the living room. Mr. Suthering stood waiting at the door, briefcase in hand.

  “Well, come ‘ere.” Dad extended his arm out for a group hug. His eyes were glossy, but his smile seemed hopeful. Come on. Don’t cry. Please?

  “You write home, okay? Don’t forget your prologue, all right? I’m sure this Earth School is going to be exciting but don’t lose touch with the setting of your Act One—”

  “Dad.” Sabine kept her lips in a grin, but her eyes froze with iciness. I wasn’t keen on another theatrical lecture, but couldn’t she sympathize with how hard it had to be for Dad? He was going to be all alone. His only family miles away.

  I stood back and studied him.

  “No, no. You girls go on.” He patted my back and wiped at his eyes. Of course, he’d see my distress. “I’ll be fine. I’ve got plenty to stay busy with.” A fierce nod and sniffle. “You go on, girls. And go…” He frowned and addressed Mr. Suthering. “Does, eh, the Academy have a…mascot?”

  The tilt of the headmaster’s lips irked me. Was he smirking? Why couldn’t Dad ask what the mascot was? Was that too secret of a detail? Jeez. Yeah, Dad could be cheesy, but rah-rahing his kids’ school mascot wasn’t that lame.

  “Not quite.”

  Huh. Well, maybe they weren’t so big with competitive sports. Fine by me. But as we concluded our farewells and followed Mr. Suthering to his rental car, I had to wonder what Olde Earth Academy was focused on.

  Chapter Five

  I thought my grand departure from Coltin would be more dramatic. As Mr. Suthering sat with us in the back of the rented car—which was more of an SUV-slash-limo, we sped down Main Street and journeyed into the sunbaked countryside. Of course, no one other than Dad knew we were leaving, so there couldn’t have been farewell parties. For Sabine, not me, of course. And maybe she was kind of bummed that she wouldn’t get some grand gesture from our small town. Couldn’t he have at least given her a chance to tell Darren goodbye? Perhaps she didn’t care.

  Homesickness. Fear. Excitement. Regret. Hope.

  I couldn’t enlighten any of those concepts because there were still too many unknowns.

  Of all the feelings I could have had at the moment of escaping the one and only place I’d ever called home, nervousness took the cream.

  “I’m sure you’ll have plenty of questions, but let me give you a little more background about Olde Earth.” Mr. Suthering had set his briefcase aside and relaxed into his seat. Sabine nodded with her whole torso, like an over-eager toddler at the promise of a sugary treat. She scooched to the edge of her seat.

  Ignoring her, I paid attention to the too-formal man who’d be in charge of our education. Please. The more I could learn about my near future, the more prepared I figured I could be.

  “Our curriculum’s focus is heavily centered on the applied sciences.”

  “That’s it?” Sabine crinkled her nose.

  “We have a well-rounded program, but our focus is on the sciences.”

  I nodded. So far, so good. Vets were scientists.

  Sabine slumped back as he continued. “Our alumni include many advanced scientists and successful engineers. Nobel Peace winners. Acclaimed researchers.”

  Still, I nodded. I couldn’t let go enough to show a smile. This sounded like exactly the kind of place for me. Strong academics. Smart people. Scholars. People who could train me into an excellent vet.

  “You can expect a rigorous and demanding workload that reflects our Academy’s goals and missions. We have high expectations and passing requirements that will ensure our students’ success.”

  Sabine snort-laughed. “Yeah, yeah. Tests. We get it. I mean, it’s school.”

  Mr. Suthering glanced at me before sighing. “Not only tests, Miss Holden. Expect exams. Experiments. Field cases.”

&n
bsp; Whoa. I inhaled and held my breath for a second for patience. That could sound…intimidating, even to a geek like me. Yet… I resisted the urge to slowly nod and smirk at the man. Challenge accepted, sir.

  I doubted I’d be pushed to any sort of lofty and difficult goals at Coltin High. At the least, it seemed I wouldn’t be bored at Olde Earth.

  “We maintain a competitively tough and exacting system of courses, and many will not remain for a continuing education.”

  There, Sabine fidgeted in her leather seat. Ah. Afraid to fail? She should be. She had before. And the professors at Olde Earth probably wouldn’t be so easy to taunt and manipulate into fudging grades as the ones in Coltin.

  “So, what? You want everybody to fail?” she scoffed.

  “Absolutely not. Yet, Olde Earth Academy has a tested method of ensuring only the best-suited students continue throughout the years.”

  The Academy did, or the people staffed there did? It gave me pause, because even if I was nerdy enough to like a scholarly challenge, it was never fun to deal with hard-assed teachers on power trips.

  “To further demonstrate what to expect, I have a sample agenda for you to peruse.” He handed over a pamphlet. As I took mine, I glanced at Sabine. She riffled through the package, her frown sinking deeper and deeper. I checked out the schedule and tried to push my sister out of my mind.

  Are you regretting it yet? Not to be mean, but there was no way Sabine would be able to prove her commitment to learning like this. A beginner’s course of Latin. Biology. Chemistry. Limnology. Den—

  Sabine huffed. “What’s den—”

  “Study of trees.” I knew she would ask. Dendrology. God, he wasn’t kidding. They were heavy on the sciences. And there was not a single mention of Poetry. Even better.

  She tossed the papers to the empty seat on her left and sighed as she watched the nighttime scenery out the window. I returned to the agenda, granting my smile full rein.

  “These require labs, too?” I asked, glancing at Mr. Suthering.

  He nodded. “And field tests. Case studies.”

  This was going to be more like college! I grinned then.

  “Anything you find interesting?”

  I nodded. “I want to be a vet one day.”

  “Animals.” He smiled. “Domestics, I assume?”

  Why, because I worked at an animal shelter? There was no reason to limit myself. I tugged at my earlobe, shy about speaking of goals to a smart person who could help me achieve them. “Any kind of animal husbandry, really.”

  “Noted.” And then he did just that. On a tablet, he scrawled a remark on the screen.

  “Do we have…files?”

  “Of course.” He slapped the cover to the tablet shut and lay the device on his lap. “Every student is monitored for success and guidance.” With a flick of his finger, he pointed to the north.

  Out the window, I saw blinking lights lined up in the gaining darkness. An airport? I swiveled around, peering outside. How had we gotten so close to the runway?

  Sabine checked a glance at me, her raised brows likely mirroring mine. We’d never flown anywhere, never been to the airport. Though, I had watched TV and movies before, and I was pretty sure you didn’t just drive right on up to the belly of a waiting plane.

  “We’ve arrived.”

  “At…”

  Mr. Suthering answered Sabine with, “One of our affiliated landing sites.”

  “We’re going on a private plane?” I didn’t care that I couldn’t keep the shock out of my question. One of their landing sites. Head facility. All these plural references told me Olde Earth had some reach. Or at least a hefty budget to afford so many locations and transportation modes.

  “Yes. We’ll fly to our next stop.” He moved to the door. “If you’ll follow me, please.”

  Wow. I gaped at the white stretch of the plane out the window, the brightness such a stark contrast to the navy-blue sky. Not just a flight, but a private one. Like a celebrity. I was surprised Sabine wasn’t squealing with excitement at such fancy treatment. Perhaps that chat about the chance of failing had sobered her.

  “This is dope. Really, really dope.” Sabine nodded as she exited after Mr. Suthering, her whispered affirmation not much different than my own thoughts of awe.

  I didn’t need to duck down to get out of the car like they did. I gripped my hair back into a fresh ponytail as I trailed behind them, gawking at the sleek airplane I was about to ride on.

  Unbelievable. As we settled into the plush seats inside, I wanted to shake my head. Pinch my skin. If anyone had told me I’d be whisked away on a private plane tonight, to a kick-ass private academy, I would have laughed and laughed.

  Believe it, Layla. It’s real. It’s happening. I checked my seatbelt again and peered out the window at the blinking lights on the ground.

  After brief instructions for seatbelts and safety, we gained speed down the empty runway. So engrossed in my own excitement, I didn’t pay attention to Sabine. Only this growing energy, this building rush of new adventures and thrills. As the tires pushed and then lifted from the blacktop, we were airborne. I was flying out of Coltin.

  Nothing could have dimmed this moment of unbridled freedom.

  Just what I’d always wished for. Freedom. No restraints. No tethers.

  “Are you doing okay?” Mr. Suthering asked from across the aisle. Just like in the car, he sat facing us.

  I beamed and nodded.

  “First time flying?”

  “Yes,” Sabine answered for me.

  I refused to let her excitement drown out my own, and I looked out the window. Watching Texas fade and blur into a faraway landscape blanketed by the night, I lost track of time. We flew up and through clouds until there was nothing to inspect down below. Still, I kept the window screen up.

  “How could we just up and fly away?” I asked.

  No tickets? No baggage checks for our backpacks? No security? Kind of creepy. If we could hop onto a private plane like this, no wonder there were so many concerns about smugglers and illegal activity between countries.

  “While you finished saying goodbye to your father, I updated your files to our database.”

  More monitoring. I guessed that was expected. Yet it didn’t answer my question.

  “So…we’re cleared to fly?”

  He nodded and glanced out the window. “Yes. And we’ve taken the necessary precautions and cleared the last-minute documentation for your passports.”

  Wow. I didn’t know passports could be rushed like that. Then again, it seemed I should assume Olde Earth had ways to dodge ordinary obstacles. When Mr. Suthering didn’t take his gaze from the window, his brows slanted down almost to suggest discomfort, I looked out the pane.

  No.

  My heart immediately hammered faster, and I gripped the armrests.

  “You freaking out already?” Sabine asked me.

  Two dark legs disappeared into a cloud out the window. Hooves eased into the white material of the atmosphere. Almost like…a horse flying through the air.

  No.

  Not real. It’s not real.

  I gulped and tried to breathe with the pressure on my throat. Panic choked me.

  It. Is. Not. Real.

  Animals didn’t exist in the sky.

  Okay. Birds could.

  Horses couldn’t.

  Unicorns are not real.

  I only thought I saw two equine legs in the sky. Rubbing at my eyes, I double-checked. White and gray mist merged with the navy sky as we soared higher and higher. No legs. No fur. Nothing but the nighttime sky.

  But, was it fur? Or…scales? Why would a horse have scales? Better yet, why would a horse ever even be in the sky—

  “Miss Holden?”

  Sabine answered Mr. Suthering. “She’s always like this.”

  Always like this? “We’ve never been on a plane before,” I hissed back, still unable to breathe steadily to whisper properly. How could she stereotype me as some r
epeat offender of aviophobia?

  “No. Just with new stuff. New things to do. Layla’s kinda scared of adventures. Like the first time we went swimming—”

  “That was different.” I tore my stare from the plane window to glare at her. How dare she bring up that incident. That traumatic hell of when she and I went to a local abandoned quarry pool when we were about to start kindergarten. My first time swimming. The event that catapulted me into shrinks’ offices and years of therapy. How dare she tell Mr. Suthering—still a stranger—about my very private moment of extreme fear when swimming for the first time. Of witnessing a slimy, muddy monster chasing me in those murky waters—

  “That was different,” I insisted again. Sabine had the decency to only roll her eyes and look away toward her own window on the opposite side of the plane.

  Having silenced her, I faced my window again, seeing, of course, nothing but the sky. Because there was nothing in the air with us. It had to have been a reflection of a light within the plane. A glint of something mirrored in the pane. Had to have been.

  Because unicorns aren’t real.

  Chanting the phrase eased me from panic and soured my mood. It killed me to realize Sabine was right. In a way, she wasn’t wrong to draw a comparison between my first time swimming and my first time flying. Both occasions brought out these crazy hallucinations.

  I rubbed at my eyes, relieved my hands weren’t trembling anymore.

  At least whatever I did not see was out there. Not on the plane with us.

  I raised my head and almost winced at Mr. Suthering’s sturdy stare. He’d been watching me, studying me as I nearly broke down about something that couldn’t be real.

  “Not a fan of swimming?” he asked.

  I shook my head and swallowed.

  He shrugged, no judgment in his gesture. “Not everyone is.”

  Thank you. His dismissal of the topic comforted me. I didn’t have to be a freak because I hyperventilated at the idea of being in water.