Academic Assassins (11 page)

“I left everything,” I strained. “I left everybody! Seeing all those moms and dads with their kids—
but not seeing mine
—it felt like I didn't have
anybody.”

Sully hesitated. Her face softened for just a second, eventually lifting her heel and walking away.

“You had me,” she muttered over her shoulder as she grabbed a chair. Spinning it around, she sat and leaned over the back. “Then you left the rest of us to clean up the mess
you made.”

“If memory serves,” I coughed, “you were the one who brought an entire army of slingshot-wielding amazons to the party.”

“I wasn't the one who started the war with Peashooter,” she said. “That's on you.”

I rubbed my sore chest. “But you were going to end it, right?”

“Somebody needed to stop him,” she huffed. “You sure couldn't.”

“I was working on it,” I said.

“From where?” Sully asked. “Inside your cage?”

“Peashooter started it,” I mumbled.

“What are you?
Six?
You left us—
left me
—when we needed you the most. When
I
needed you the most.”

“You left me first!”

The two of us stewed in the silence. My head echoed her name—
Sully.

Sully.

Sully.

To see her now, even if she wasn't all too pleased to be seeing me, filled my chest up with a bliss that I had kept imprisoned within for months.

Sully was
alive
. Sully was sharing the same broom closet air with me.

I tried to break the tension. “Nice haircut.”

“Girls don't fight fair in here,” she said a little too matter-of-factly. “Better to have no hair at all. I've seen Mimis with bald spots.”

“That's a pretty image….”

“There's nothing pretty about this place,” she said.

It didn't feel right to ask her who Mimi was, so I had to think of what else I could say to fill up the stifling silence.

“I didn't mean for this to happen,” I said as I pulled myself over to her chair, the seatback still between us.

“What did you think would happen?” she asked—and I could see the sting in her eyes. “You'd organize a tribal family reunion and we'd all live happily ever
after? Everybody just walks off into the sunset with their parents, hand in hand?”

She had a point. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Didn't take social services long to swoop in and take me away. They weren't going to let me stay at home, no matter what my dad said. Not after what happened at New Leaf. The things we did didn't just magically disappear…even if you did. The rest of us were left to pay the piper.”

“What happened?” I asked. “To the rest…?”

“To Peashooter? There's no telling. I haven't seen him here. He could be locked up in a castle tower for all I know.”

“I spotted a photo of Compass on Merridew's desk. She's his great aunt.”

Sully didn't seem surprised. “Makes sense. He must come from a whole family of mad scientists.”

“Is she experimenting on the kids here?” I asked.

“Just don't let Merridew send you to the Black Hole, okay? Residents come back empty in the head.” She stared, taking in the sight of me. Things only got more awkward the
longer neither of us talked, both of us drowning in the silence.

So what did I do?

I did what any kid in my situation would do, of course…

I went in for the kiss.

What did I have to lose?

Eyes—
closed
.

Head—
tilted
.

Lips—
parted
.

Incoming lips in five…

Four…

Three…

Sully slapped me across my cheek.

“Ow!”

“What signal could you have
possibly
received to make you think I wanted you to kiss me just now?”

“I don't know….” I rubbed my sore cheek. “Here we are, stuck in a broom closet. The lights are down low, just like old times…Sorry.”

Her face soured at the sound of my apology. “
Sorry
doesn't go far here. We're stuck in this place for a long time—so I'd watch my back if I were
you.”

I couldn't help but detect the not-so-subtle threat in her voice. “…Why?”

Sully stood up from her chair and headed for the door. She opened it, about to head out—only she halted. “Find your tribe,” she said, and a hint of genuine concern—of the
kindness I remembered—crept in her voice. “Get protection. I'm not going to save your ass anymore. You're on your own now.”

“When have I ever
not
been
not
careful?” I tried to smile.

I had to make her stop. Make her stay somehow.

“
Find my own tribe
?” I asked, stalling. “What's that supposed to mean?”

This took her by surprise. “You don't know?”

Clearly I didn't.

Sully rolled her eyes. “Follow me. There's something you need to see.”

C
heering?

I couldn't be sure at first, but the farther Sully led me through the bowels of Kesey's basement, the more I could've sworn I heard voices—lots of voices—hollering
at the top of their lungs.

“During the day, Merridew runs Kesey,” Sully said. “But at night, I take over.”

I couldn't help but let out a brief laugh.

Sully spun around and I nearly collided with her. “Think that's funny?”

“For real? As in after lights out, everybody just breaks out of their pods?”

“Don't have to.” Sully started walking again. “They open on their own. Merridew's smart enough to know the only way she can maintain order around here is to turn a
blind eye to what happens after dark….”

A sudden outburst of cheers echoed through the hall. It sounded like I was about to enter a sports arena.

Sully stopped before the laundry room door. “A lot has changed since the summer,” she said before pushing the door open with her back. “Don't say I didn't warn
you….”

I stepped into the laundry room and was immediately assaulted by an uproar of rabid yells. Seemed like every ant at Kesey was down here. Over a hundred residents were crammed together, shoulders
pressed against one another.

Everyone's attention focused on a blur of bodies at the center of the room.

“Take him down,” one ant shouted beside me. “Rip him to pieces!”

Ants climbed on top of the industrial dryers lining the walls for a better view, their legs dangling off the edge, heels kicking at the monocled eyes below.

I had to stand on my tiptoes to see what was happening in the center of the room. Two ants were grappling with one another, arms up and ready to throw a punch. I recognized Buttercup as she
sidestepped her opponent to avoid a left hook. She cleared this kid's fist and quickly wrapped her arm around his neck in a choke hold. The cheering grew rowdier as Buttercup leaned back and
lifted the ant off the floor. The kid's feet kicked at the air. Buttercup held him up and spun him around, acknowledging the crowd as she turned, which got everyone to howl even louder.

“Take him out!” one ant shouted. “Break his back!”

Buttercup refused to let her opponent go, even when this scrawny kid's face started to turn blue. She brought one hand up to her ear, pretending like she couldn't hear.
“What's that?” she shouted.

I knew that kid. From the Ant Farm. He'd helped me up while Grayson had shocked me down. His face was now a deep purple under Buttercup's grip.

All the ants went berserk. “Take him out! Take him out! Take him out!”

Is this what passes for extracurricular activities at Kesey?

Buttercup spotted me in the crowd and smiled. She wouldn't quit batting her eyelashes at me.

Can we say awwwk-ward?

I found Babyface in the crowd and made my way over to him.

“What's going on here?” I asked.

“Nothing but animals, man,” Babyface said before he did a double take. “Hold up. Did you just say something?”

I held out my hands as if I were a magician who'd just performed some mind-blowing sleight of hand—“
Ta-da
.”

“So that's what you sound like,” Babyface said. “Think I preferred you when you were mute.”

Sully ascended her own washing machine, personally reserved for her, as if it were her throne. She was surrounded by her coterie of orange-uniformed ants, watching over the action. Maybe she
really was in charge. Pinching her thumb and index finger between her lips, she let out a shrill whistle that cut through the cheers.

Buttercup begrudgingly released her opponent's throat. The winded ant slid to the floor, coughing.

Sully raised her hand. All conversation faded immediately. “Roll call!”

Buttercup stepped forward, chest heaving. “The Peer Facilitators!”

Buttercup's punching bag boosted himself onto his feet. “The Orphans,” he croaked.

From the back wall, a pigtailed girl hoisted herself on top of a dryer and brought her hands up to her mouth, shrieking—“The Screeeeeaming Mimis!”

“The Napoleons!”

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Could this be true…?

A Tribe franchise. Peashooter had brought the idea to the masses at Camp New Leaf—and here at Kesey, Sully had taken the concept to the next logical step.

Now everyone could have their own tribe. Just how many were there?

Everybody thinks they can start their own tribe these days. The quality of tribal life has really gone down….

Babyface leaned over to me and whispered, “Seen anything like this before?”

“Would you believe me if I told you I have?”

Once every other tribe had announced itself, Sully stood up from her throne and shouted—“We are the She-Wolves.”

The Wolves surrounding Sully, her tribe, bent their necks back and let out a prolonged ululation from deep within their throats, howling over their heads.

Sully held up her hand and the Wolves immediately went silent.

“Who smells fresh meat?” She turned her gaze toward us, the Newbies on the Cell Block—Babyface, Nailbiter, and a few others, freshly shorn and huddled together. “Look at
what the Men in White dragged in. What a bunch of pretty faces, all doe-eyed and wet behind the ears. Somebody oughta take a picture.”

This roused a row of laughter from the surrounding ants.

“Hate to be the one to break it to you, newbies,” Sully said. “But you are nothing special. You are not a snowflake or a little princess or whatever it was your mommy used to
call you back at home when she tucked you in at night. We are all the same here. The sooner that sinks into your skull, the better your chances of surviving this place.
Nobody
leaves Kesey.
Not the way you came in. Whoever you were when you stepped through those front gates is already long gone. So say goodbye, good riddance—and say hello to the nub you are now.”

“Fresh meat,”
chanted the ants,
“fresh meat, fresh meat….”

“You've got to be the worst of the worse to land a stint at Kesey,” Sully continued. “But here, you're like kittens among wolves.”

Glancing around, I wondered who these kids had been before they got here. They presumably had parents, had once been schoolchildren, sitting through algebra and history and eating lunches out of
brown paper bags.

Just like me.

Suddenly I was surrounded by dozens of Spencer Pendletons, each the worst kid in his or her own Greenfield Middle.

Every school had their very own rabble-rouser.

Now we were all stuck at Kesey together.

“Merridew says she's rehabilitating us for the outside world, but you're not welcome outside anymore. Outside society has rejected us. Outside society doesn't want
anything to do with us—so we don't want anything to do with outside society.”

Sully really had come into her own. While I had been off gallivanting in the woods by myself, she had been here—organizing, rebuilding, commanding.

She was a leader now. And I was on her turf.

Peashooter would have been proud.

“This is your home now,” she said. “Kesey is a school for delinquency—and class is in session. We're talking pass-fail here. Life or death. You want to survive this
place? Find your people. Find your tribe. Membership is mandatory.”

I have a hazy memory of Greenfield Middle hosting an After-School Club Fair. Over twenty clubs set up their booths throughout the cafeteria—the French Club, Model United Nations, the
Eco-Warriors—each organization enlisting new recruits. I ambled from booth to booth, checking out the poster board banners in search of an extracurricular life.

This was so seventh grade.

Time for a little breakdown of what each tribe has to offer: