The Academy Read online

  And so it went. Predictably, I was chosen last and with much protest by the other members of team B, where I ended up. I tried not to feel hurt and reminded myself that my small stature wasn’t my fault. After all, I was a girl. Even if no one else in the room besides me knew it, I had a perfect right to be petite. But no matter how much I told myself that, it still stung to be called 'runt' and kept in the back of the line.

  Soon enough Coach Janus came back, wheeling a large cart filled with red, hard-rubber balls about the size of someone’s head. “Okay, ladies,” he shouted. “Come and get ‘em. Let’s go—we don’t have all day.”

  Cadets from both teams ran forward, grabbed as many of the balls as they could carry, and ran back to the black dividing line in the middle of the gym. I hung back myself, not wanting to get too involved. I was fine with one-on-one contests like fencing or chess but thanks to my sheltered upbringing and my sex, I had never played a team sport in my life.

  “C’mon, new guy—what’s your name?” I looked up and realized Coach Janus was looking at me.

  “Jameson, sir,” I answered.

  “Well, don’t be shy, Jameson, come on up and grab some balls.”

  “Don’t worry, Coach—Jameson’s good at that,” Broward shouted. He and his crew were still hanging around the ball cart. They roared with laugher and the rest of the cadets snickered as well as I came forward to collect the last remaining hard-rubber ball at the bottom of the cart. I squeezed it to my chest, its surface cool and hard and knobbly under my fingertips. I felt like I was going to explode.

  “What are you implying, Broward?” I said, as the coach turned away.

  “I think you know, freshie,” he sneered.

  I made my face as innocent as possible. “If you’re saying I have some kind of special skill with this equipment, I don’t. I can’t help noticing, though, that you seem to know how to handle those awfully well.” I nodded at the way he was clutching two of the balls in his hands. “Is that a skill you acquire with time or are you just naturally good at fondling, I mean handling balls?”

  Broward’s face darkened. “You little—”

  “That’s enough smack talk, ladies.” Coach Janus had turned back and was frowning at both Broward and myself. “Let’s step it up to the line. Come on, now.”

  Broward pointed a finger at me. “That remark is gonna cost you, freshie.” Then he turned and stalked to the thick black line painted on the plastiwood floor which bisected the gymnasium. All the other cadets were already standing there and I knew they had heard our exchange.

  As I walked to the line, I mentally kicked myself. Why had I gone out of my way to irritate him like that? As if I didn’t have enough trouble as it was.

  My distress was compounded by the fact that I had shocked myself a little, speaking in such a crude way. A joke like the one I had made at Broward’s expense would never have passed my lips in Victoria. But here it seemed natural to fight fire with fire—to return what the bully was dishing out in kind. I wondered uneasily if I would be cursing and spitting and scratching myself like the rest of the cadets by the time I got out of the Academy—if I got out alive, that was. And by the look on Broward’s ugly face, that was becoming less and less of a possibility.

  Coach Janus blew a sharp blast on the silver whistle he wore around his neck. “Balls on the line, ladies,” he shouted without a trace of irony. “Then five steps back.”

  All the cadets placed their hard-rubber balls along the thick black line and took five steps back.

  “Good.” Coach Janus nodded approvingly. “Now on my whistle, run in and grab ‘em. Remember the rules—you get hit with a ball, you’re out. You step over the line, you’re out. If someone catches the ball you threw, you’re out. And body shots only—no head or face hits. Got it?”

  Everyone murmured assent, myself included, but I couldn’t help feeling the tension in the air. The boys around me were tight with anticipation, leaning toward the balls, ready to dash in and grab them and start pelting each other. I wished I could run the other direction but I knew that wouldn’t work. Grimly, I got ready to run along with the others.

  The shrill whistle blast echoed in the vast gym and then the air was filled with the sound of cadets shouting, squeaking athletic shoes, and loud, hollow thumps as those too slow to dodge were picked off one by one. Luckily, I wasn’t one of them. To my surprise, I had finally found a situation in which my petite size worked in my favor.

  I dodged in and out of the larger cadets, weaving and ducking as Broward and his team threw more and more balls in my direction. I caught several, sending the boys who had thrown them out of the game. In fact, I was doing so well, my own team finally started to take notice of me.

  “Lookit that!” A cadet with curly brown hair and glasses pointed at me. “The runt is fast.”

  My team captain, Jakes, gave me an approving nod. “Good going, little guy.”

  “Thanks.” I caught another ball—this one thrown by Nodes—and passed it to him. “Being small has its advantages sometimes.”

  “Not gonna be an advantage if Broward catches you after the game.” Jakes dodged a ball easily as he talked. His natural athleticism made it easy to see why Coach Janus had picked him as a captain. “You’d do better to steer clear of him.”

  “I’m trying.” I dodged another ball myself. “He’s not making it easy.”

  “Too bad for you, then.” Jakes gave me a pitying look and ran to catch a ball on the other side of the court.

  Across the black line, Broward was getting angrier and angrier. I could tell by the way his face got red, then purple. His team was passing him balls to throw at me but he missed every shot.

  I knew I should just let him hit me and be done with it. Maybe getting me out would take the edge off his anger. But my pride rose up and wouldn’t let me. I had always had a strong competitive streak in me and I refused to lose the game on purpose, no matter what the consequences.

  Before I knew it, Broward and I were the only ones left standing.

  “C’mon, freshie.” He beckoned me, two balls in each hand. “Come here and take your medicine.”

  “I don’t think so.” I dodged one of the balls easily. I could have caught it and sent him out, winning the game for my team but no matter how proud I was, I wasn’t stupid. Making Broward lose that much face in front of the other cadets was too dangerous. So I just kept dodging the balls as he threw them until finally Coach Janus blew his whistle and called the match a tie.

  I felt a sense of relief as I walked forward with the others to put the balls back in the cart. Some of my teammates seemed irritated that I hadn’t won them the game but on the whole, I got more admiring glances than angry ones. Jakes smiled at me and punched me lightly on the shoulder. “Good game, Jameson.” He nodded at the still glowering Broward. “And good call.”

  “Thanks.” I smiled back, glad that he understood why I hadn’t been able to win.

  “Very nice, ladies.” Coach Janus gave us a bored nod. “I’ll see you all tomorrow same time, same place.”

  He headed back to his office and I was about to start for the dressing room—bypassing the showers altogether—when I heard someone call my name. I turned just in time to see a large red object flying at my head. There was no time to duck—the ball hit me squarely in the nose and I fell to the ground, spikes of exquisitely sharp pain exploding outward across my face.

  I gasped and cupped my hand over my nose, which was already fountaining blood.

  “Hey, look at that, boys.” Broward strolled up to me, his thick lips curled in a nasty grin. “Looks like he’s not so fast after all.” He pointed at me. “You’re out, freshie.” For some reason this made his cronies roar with laughter.

  Tears of rage and pain filled my eyes but there was nothing I could do. Coach Janus hadn’t seen the incident since he had disappeared into his office and the rest of my teammates were already in the showers—not that they would help me. They might admire my speed on the c