The Academy Ch 09

After Mrs Duckworth and the two guards had come and collected all my belongings I was left in my room. Alone. With nothing. Well, nothing except a bar of soap, a small towel, some toilet paper, the furniture and the vibrator. But none of those things would entertain me right now, so I had only my thoughts. Thoughts of David were still very much occupying my mind. Not just because I'd just lost virginity to a man I'd thought was someone else, but because so far David had provided my most likely form of escape. All of my potential plans revolved around him in some way. If he wasn't who I had thought, then I had nothing. No way of escape.

Once my initial anger had burnt off I began thinking more clearly. I had been

so

sure that David must be the son of the evil Mr Sòng the owner. There were so many little clues which had pointed to that. Had that been wishful thinking? It must have been. Why would Mrs Duckworth lie about such a thing?

Trust no one.

Huyen had said. Okay. So what did I know?

Not a damn thing. Technically Mrs Duckworth hadn't even said David

was

the owner, just that his father wasn't. Jennifer had, of course, but Jennifer could be wrong... right?

Here I was, wishful thinking again.

Well, I could still look at what evidence I had. Oh for a pen and paper right now. Time to work with what I had. I grabbed the tiny towel and laid it on one half of the bed. Towel could be evidence David was bad evil owner, bed could be evidence David wasn't bad evil owner. I grabbed the roll of toilet paper and tore off squares to use as counters. One piece for every scrap of evidence.

It crossed my mind how ridiculous I'd look to anyone watching the camera in the smoke alarm above my bed right now. Who watched those cameras? David had them, or at least mine, hooked up to his phone. Well, that could be evidence he was in charge, but he mentioned he'd disabled some because he didn't like being watched. Was he just referring to the security guards or someone above him? And speaking of not liking being watched... the camera right above my bed worked. If he was okay with what he did to me there being seen, exactly what wasn't he okay with being seen doing? And why mention the blind spots to me at all? That was valuable information for someone who wanted to escape. I looked at the square of toilet paper in my hands, tore it in two and placed half a square on the bed and half on the towel. Not a great start.

I worked my way backwards. He knew the laundry system. Well, any teacher might. But he claimed he disapproved of how it was done. He could be lying, it could have been his idea, but if he was not lying... this was no good. Same conclusion as last time. Half a square for "someone under him made the decision and he let them" on the towel and half a square for "someone above him made the decision" on the bed.

Before then, my "remedial massage class" was listed on my timetable as "remedial Mandarin." But no, even that was useless. Though he might well have been trying to hide from someone above him what he was doing, equally he might not want other teachers to know what he was up to with me.

I threw my remaining pieces of toilet paper down on the bed and flopped down. Now what?

I could cover the cameras in my room. I had toilet paper and water. I knew where the cameras were. I could wet the toilet paper and press it over the sensor and smoke detector. But to what end? I could time how long it took them to do something about it, which would give me an indication of how closely the cameras were being monitored, but it would reveal too much too soon. For a start, they'd know I knew where the cameras were. Possibly install others-- if there wasn't a third camera in here David hadn't mentioned already.

If I got a hold of David's phone, would it be possible to work out where the blind spots were and plot an escape route?

If I got a hold of David's phone, I would be better off calling the police than trying to find the blind spots. Blind spots were useless when I still had guards, locked doors and barbed-wire topped walls to consider.

I'd gotten no further when lunch was delivered by one of the guards.

Lunch consisted of the following items:

- A plastic tray,

- A paper serviette,

- A paper bowl filled with luke-warm soup,

- A plastic tea spoon

- A bread roll,

- A plastic cup full of fruit Salad,

- And a plastic fork.

The soup wasn't bad. It would have been good if it had been hot. It looked like there was probably truth to the story about why we weren't allowed hot liquids; would pens now be banned forever? And what about everything else? Would we just be naked from now on? Would we get our pillows and blankets back? I didn't fancy sleeping tonight without either.

After eating I looked over my new possessions. The guard would come back for the tray and rubbish, but you wouldn't expect them to go through the rubbish. The cup the fruit salad was in would be useful if they were to keep me in here for any length of time. I went to the sink in the en suite and rinsed it out. Now I had a perfectly fine drinking glass. I filled it with water from the tap and drank. I could also keep my toothbrush in it as they'd taken my toothbrush holder. Wait, they'd taken my toothbrush and toothpaste as well. How was I to brush my teeth? Hopefully, I'd get those back tonight, or at least soon. We couldn't go any length of time without brushing our teeth.

I went back to the bedroom and looked over the rubbish. While the fork had broken in an attempt to spear a piece of rockmelon, the spoon was sturdy. Could it be useful? Possibly. I went back to the sink and cleaned it and popped it in the cup.

Now what?

Nothing.

I took the napkin and tried to see if I could still remember how to fold an origami crane. I could not.

A while later the guard came for the tray. He picked it up and then looked at me.

"There's a cup and spoon missing," he said. Bugger!

"Oh, I thought I could use them in the bathroom, " I replied casually.

"No."

So I fetched them and returned them to the tray. The guard gave the tray another look and then left without so much as a goodbye.

Now what?

Nothing.

Bored didn't begin to cover it.

I tried pacing.

I tried star jumps.

I tried platting my hair in different styles.

Bored. Mind numbingly bored.

The door opened. Another guard with a tray. Finally tea time! He put the tray down and there was an apple and a bran muffin.

"Afternoon tea," he said. Only afternoon tea, not even the evening yet. No clock and a lack of windows had really screwed with my perception of time. I took another look at the guard and thought I recognised him as the one who had made the decision to let me keep my vibrator. Though I wasn't thankful, no point in putting on a show for the cameras, he might be more talkative than some of the others.

"How long are we confined to our rooms for?" I asked, "When do we go back to classes?"

"No idea," he said. "Mr Sòng will need to make that decision."

"He's on a plane right now, isn't he?" I asked, "Do you know when he lands?"

"You'll go back to classes when Mr Sòng decides it," the guard said. "I can't tell you more than that."

"Can you tell me anything about him? Mr Sòng?"

"Like what?" The guard's eyes darted for the door. I guessed he didn't really have time to talk so I tried to be straight to the point."

"He's the owner, isn't he? He's in charge here, right?"

"Of this Academy, yes."

"And there's no one above him?"

"The decision to go back to classes is his. You looking to appeal to a higher authority?"

"No, that is, not over this, but generally speaking--"

"Generally speaking, stay on his good side, if you can. I've got other rooms to do."

Well, I'd gotten something out of him at least. David evil owner. Was he nice if you were on his "good side?" Did Jennifer and the others somehow get on his bad side, to fear him so? I picked up my muffin and broke it in half. Bran muffins were perfectly fine hot and spread with plenty of butter. But this one was cold and there was no butter. Still, eating was better than not eating.

Afternoon tea was soon finished. I extracted the seeds from the apple core, washed them and put them on some toilet paper to dry. The guard who collected my tray was a different one and of the non-chatty variety. He didn't inspect my apple for seeds so now I had pilfered apple seeds. I filled the hours of boredom between afternoon tea and tea by inventing various games to play with my apple seeds, which mostly involved flicking them onto targets.

Tea arrived. Luke-warm soup and fruit salad, same as lunch, but when I picked up the plastic spoon it felt thicker than before. On investigation, I saw it was two stuck together. Jackpot! I put one spoon next to the sink in the en suite and when my tea tray was collected it went unnoticed. Later a guard delivered a toothbrush and tube of toothpaste and explained he'd be back shortly to collect. I inspected the brush, it

looked

the same as mine, but was it mine? All my things had been gathered up together so I hoped they had some system of getting the right toothbrush back to the right owner, but you never know. Still, going without brushing wasn't really an option. I gave it an extra-long rinse under the hot tap first though.

While I'd had the luxury of brushing my teeth, that luxury didn't stretch to pillows and blankets. I woke up the next morning sore and stiff. A warm shower might be in order. A long one. Worrying about cameras now seemed a bit pointless. But loo first. When I wiped the paper came away with a small smear of blood. Now? Of all times why now? I'd have to ask the guard for something when he brought breakfast. I brushed my teeth and showered, then waited for the guard. Fortunately, my flow first day was always pretty light before turning into a fully-fledged massacre on day two. The door opened and along with a guard, Mrs Duckworth stood there.

"You can come down to breakfast this morning. Just as you are," she said. Just as you are meant naked.

"Um..."

"Hurry up girl!"

"But I, er, have a problem."

"What is it? Spit it out, we haven't got all day."

"It's, um, you know, that time of the month." I felt heat rising to my face

"Oh, is that all? Well it's not like it's your first time. No need to be embarrassed. I'll have to get some supplies, but I'll need proof."

"Proof?" What on earth?

"Don't want anyone cheating the system." She wanted to make sure I was actually having my period and not just lying as a way to get to wear pants. But, how was she going to check?

"You want me to wipe and show you?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. Because if she wanted to get up close and inspect the same way she'd inspected me on my first day here. Well, she'd see I was no longer a virgin. Fortunately, she nodded, so I only had the humiliation of her watching while I wiped and showed her the toilet paper.

"I'll be back soon." She left.

She returned not too long later with some pads. Not a whole pack of pads, just some individual pads. They were individually wrapped of course. Was this another psychological tactic? Don't even get a pack of pads? There was a little clear zippered pouch, for carrying them to class, I guessed. There was a variety of pads, regular and maxi, but there didn't seem enough for the full seven days I usually went for. There were also only four pairs of knickers.

"I might need more than this," I said.

"If needed you can ask for more. Now come on girl, you need to get to breakfast. So, with Mrs Duckworth waiting, I unwrapped a pad and got to business.

If you've ever been a girl in sex-ed class, you'd know when they teach you about periods they always have a little FAQ that features the question "Will people know I have my period?" It's always answered in a most reassuring tone. "No one will know," they say, "Unless you tell someone, it's your secret," and so forth. Well, no secret here.

The meal hall was full when I walked in and everyone who saw me must have known. The meal hall was different from yesterday. The larger dining tables had been pushed to the side and had been replaced by individual desks, spread apart like you see in an exam room. I looked around, but didn't see Huyen. I felt a pang of guilt at the thought of her. The revelation about David had chased thought of her from my mind, but since then I'd been avoiding thinking too much about her. I was worried about where my thoughts might lead because "What would they do to her?" had so many answers and none of them were comforting.

It was with her on my mind that I headed to the wellbeing station. I received my little cup of pills as usual but today the little white one David had said was the contraceptive pill was a little pink one. I took that, it would be the sugar pill. There were three more pills in the cup, bigger ones. I hid them in my cheeks as Huyen had, collected my breakfast card, my new timetable, and then my breakfast. It was hard to eat with the pills hidden in my cheeks, and they tasted foul. But I couldn't find an opportunity to discreetly spit them out. We were being watched too closely.

I looked over my new timetable expecting dick sucking to have been removed. It hadn't. It was still there, but the room had changed. Girls had already started laving and though I hadn't eaten much, I followed them and headed straight for the toilets. I spat the pills into the loo, flushed then rinsed my mouth out.

The halls were practically empty when I left the toilets, I needed to get to class. I'd not taken three steps when I heard my name. I recognised the voice instantly. David. He came running up and grabbed my hand.

"I was waiting for you." He quickly started leading me down the corridor where the room he'd held the "remedial massage class."

"I have to get to class. And that's not here." I'd had a lot of time to think, but I wasn't prepared to meet David right now, especially not if he wanted to do anything sexual. I had to confront him, but from what the guard had said, I should stay on his good side. And while I was furious with him, the sound of his voice and the touch of his hand in mine was already leading me to thoughts of doing things with him which involved a lot more than just holding hands. How dare he have such an effect on me?

"I'll excuse you from class." We passed the remedial massage room, at which I tried to feel relieved, not disappointed, and he opened the only other door in this corridor. Up close I saw it was marked with a metal plaque reading G.O.D Underneath someone had scrawled

Giác Ơn Đại?

I raised my eyebrow.

"Heh, a little joke." David gestured to the scrawled writing. I assumed it was Vietnamese and because he looked a little embarrassed about it I didn't remind him I didn't understand a word of Vietnamese.

The thought of Vietnamese reminded me of something. When Jennifer had told me about Mr Sòng she mentioned he had a son who usually lived in Vietnam with his mother. I'd thought David was that son, and that he spoke Vietnamese because his mother did. I was wrong about David being the owner's son, that meant, if Jennifer was correct, that David had a son with a Vietnamese woman. How had I not fitted those two puzzle pieces yesterday? He'd said he would be in Japan and South Korea on business but had said nothing about his reasons for visiting Vietnam. Could he have been visiting his son? His son's mother? David and I weren't exclusive by any means, but an unreasonable surge of jealousy surged through me at the thought he was off visiting some baby mama.

David pulled me into the room and shut the door behind us. I barely got a look at the room, seeing a large desk, a smaller table and some cupboards before he was on me. Drawing me tightly into his arms, his lips locked with mine in a passionate kiss. I was pulled in, then with a sudden surge my anger came back and I remembered how pissed I was with him. I broke the kiss and stepped back.

"You bastard!" I slapped him. He staggered back, grabbing his glasses which had almost flown off his face.

"I didn't deserve that!"

"Did!"

"Didn't! Couldn't! I only just got back! I haven't even done anything yet!"

"You lied to me!"

"Okay love, what did I lie about?" His voice was calm and for some reason that made me feel even more angry.

"What? You've lied about so many things that you don't know which lie in talking about?"

"I don't think I have told you any lies, not directly. There's a lot I haven't told you, but I don't think I've lied about it has--" a worried expression crossed his face, "Has

she

spoken to you? I didn't think she had, I tried to get to you early but couldn't before breakfast."

"

She?

She's the cats mother?"

"The cat's mother? What does that mean?"

"English idiom. It means I don't know who you're talking about. Mrs Duckworth?"

"No love, I don't know what name she might have given you. Vietnamese woman, as beautiful as she is terrifying--"

"Huyen?"

"No, not her. This one might have gone by Lilly or Linh." The name Linh rung a bell, but I couldn't quite place it, and I hadn't spoken to anyone by that name, at least not today.

"Nope," I said. David looked relieved.

"I need to speak to you about her."

"No, I need to speak to you. You own this place, don't you? You're in charge, above the headmaster, right?"

"Did I say otherwise?"

"No. Okay, maybe you didn't lie to me as such, but I thought you... I thought your father owned this place--"

"My father?" David's eyebrows shot up.

"Yes, you see--"

"Love, my father's a banker. You could have asked me that. He thinks I've made my fortune in property..." David chuckled and gave me a good long look, "In a way, he's right."

"I'm not your property!" I yelled. David's arm flew up in front of his face, defensively.

"Don't slap me again! But technically, you are."

"Oh, so you think you can do anything you want to do to me? Think you can fuck me any time you want? Because you own me? I wiped the angry tears which were running down my face.

"You're upset about what happened Monday evening?"

"No. Yes. No, but... everything. I thought... I thought you were on my side." I angrily wiped at the tears which continued to flow. I didn't want him to see me crying. "But you're just out for what you can get. You think you're God, but you're just a fucking rapist."

"I'm many things, and I've done many despicable things, but I'm no rapist."

"You are!" I yelled. "It's even worse that you don't see it. Not just me and you, everything. You're in charge of everything that goes on here. You could just pull the pin--"

"It's not that easy."

"Is. I thought I could convince you to do the right thing, but now I know who you are--"

"What? You thought you could convince me to do whatever you want by sleeping with me?" For the first time, David sounded angry. He swallowed. "I thought... I thought you..." his voice softened, "I thought you liked me." The sheer vulnerability on his face took the wind out of my sales.

"I thought-- I" could he actually have genuine feelings for me? I took a deep breath, I had to stay firm and not let him sweet-talk me out of the truth. "Don't pretend you care about me. Besides, I'm not your type."

"Oh, and what is my type?"

"I don't know? Pretty young skinny Vietnamese women?" I guessed. A brief chuckle escaped David's lips.

"Aye, well. I'm not denying that Vietnam hosts some of the world's most beautiful women, and not denying that I have-- er-- a, like a history..."

"A history of fucking Vietnamese woman?" I supplied.

"Yes, but not just Vietnamese women! I fuck all sorts of women!"

"Like that helps your argument!" I tried to conceal my laughter at his lame excuse but felt the corners of my mouth turn up just a tad.