How to Lead a Life of Crime

chapter THIRTEEN



LIFE AMONG THE WOLVES





There are three kinds of students at the Mandel Academy. Most of the kids belong to a group I call the Androids. Though they’re not exactly a group. It’s not like they’ve banded together. In fact, they’d rather not be Androids at all. Everyone here wants to be special. And it’s easy to see that some of the students were simply born that way. The rest have to work to stand out from the crowd. And that’s what the Androids do. They study all hours of the day, hoping to join the top tier of students—or desperately struggling to stay out of the bottom. They pray that sheer effort can make up for their lack of raw talent. I’ve never seen people work so hard, but I have no trouble understanding why they’re afraid to stop.

If your grades start to plummet, you may end up joining the Ghosts. I didn’t invent the label, but it certainly fits. At the Mandel Academy, Ghosts aren’t just shunned—they’re completely invisible. When students fall to the bottom of the class, they no longer exist. The instructors won’t acknowledge them. The other kids avoid them as if the condition might be contagious. We all have one week of immunity left this semester, but everyone knows who’ll be getting the boot. And it’s easier to pretend that they’re already gone.

There’s not much point in feeling sorry for the Ghosts. I suppose they’ll be fine once they’re back on the outside. A few of them appear to be fairly intelligent. And having done their time in the Incubation Suites, most are attractive and well-spoken. But they don’t belong here. They lack the killer instincts that are necessary in order to thrive at a place like this. You’d think, given the atmosphere, that some of the Ghosts would be eager to leave. But Felix seems to be the only one counting the days left to freedom. I hear he’s failing all of his classes, but every time I see him, he couldn’t look happier. It gives me a perverse pleasure to watch him smile at the Androids. They never know how to respond. I just wish Aubrey shared Felix’s hunger for freedom. She once insisted she wouldn’t be leaving, but everyone knows she’ll be expelled. I’m not sure how she feels about that. I’m not sure Aubrey feels anything anymore.

I’ve never thought of myself as “special.” And before I got here, I don’t think anyone would have used the term to describe me. Yet I’m well on my way to becoming a member of the most elite group at the Mandel Academy. Three weeks into the semester, I’m the number-one student in all of my classes. Much to my surprise, my gifts aren’t limited to pick-pocketing and petty theft. It seems I have a real talent for top-level crime. I’ve planned hypothetical coups in third-world countries. I stole a fortune from the postal employees’ pension fund. I’ve engineered hostile takeovers of small mom-and-pop companies, which I later sold for scrap. Lucian Mandel warned me that life would only get more difficult after I left the Incubation Suites. For once he was wrong. As soon as I accepted that I won’t be getting out of here for a while, I realized there are worse places to be. I’m sure the academy feels like hell to most people, but it suits me just fine. If I have to play Mandel’s game, I’ll play to win. And who knows—if I keep up the good work, I might end up graduating in September after two short semesters. Then I’ll have the proof—and the revenge I’ve craved. I just hope that my father has been monitoring my progress. If he has, he’s gotta be starting to worry. Sometimes I even scare myself.

When the Immunity Phase ends, the school-wide rankings will be announced. I’ll be shocked if I don’t make the top three. Gwendolyn has informed everyone that she expects there to be a new Dux next week. She doesn’t seem to mind, but her friends certainly do. The twelve top-ranking students live cushy lives. Right now, they’re the school’s celebrities, but if I join the pack, one of them will be banished to the Androids. And everyone knows that only nine will be allowed to graduate.

Caleb, Leila, Julian, and Austin probably don’t have much cause for concern. They’re numbers 2 through 5. But I know they’ve been searching for ways to sabotage my rise to the top. I started thinking of them as the Wolves when I noticed that one of them always seemed to be stalking me, waiting for a chance to pounce. Gwendolyn made sure none of them ever got close enough. And now that it looks like I may soon be their leader, they’re as charming and playful as a litter of puppies. They don’t dare bare their fangs until my back is turned.

Gwendolyn is different. Maybe it’s because she’s held the Dux title for two years running. She’ll turn eighteen this summer, and now that she’s old enough to graduate, she must not feel the need to fight anymore. I’m her only true competition, and yet she’s supported me from the start. I know the others are convinced she’s just hopped up on hormones. But I don’t think that’s the only reason she’s nice to me. She’s perfectly pleasant to just about everyone. I’ve been watching her for a while, and I’ve never seen her abuse her power. Although her friends’ favorite sport is tormenting the Androids, Gwendolyn never takes part in their mean-spirited games. Two days in a row, nasty little Leila dropped a tray full of pasta in the middle of the cafeteria and ordered the nearest male Android to suck the noodles off the floor. Gwendolyn called her immature, and Leila hasn’t had an accident since. The pretty, petite Dux even manages to keep Austin the giant grinning goober in line. Without Gwendolyn, the hazing pranks he finds so hilarious would probably be more fatal than frat-boy.

I haven’t told Gwendolyn what I really think of her clique. Lucas is the only person in whom I’ve confided. Still, I wouldn’t call him my friend. Lucas and I never speak during the day. In fact, he rarely acknowledges my presence. And I’ve never been invited into his room. But he’ll often join me on the balcony in the last few minutes before curfew when the other students are busy preparing for lockdown. He’s the only kid at the academy who can’t easily be labeled. He’s not in the top twelve, but he hasn’t hit rock bottom yet. He’s close, though. I’ve seen him talking to Ghosts, and he certainly doesn’t go out of his way to please the people in charge. Our Art of Persuasion instructor despises him. Lucas can find a perfectly law-abiding solution to almost any dilemma, and it drives Mr. Martin insane. Whenever Lucas is in the room, the old backslapper even seems to forget how much he hates me.

“I heard you may be the Dux soon,” Lucas said to me last night as we stood in the shadows. We weren’t exactly hidden, but you’d have had to look hard to see us. “You’ll officially be a member of the in-crowd.”

“You mean the Wolves?”

I’d never heard Lucas laugh before. “You got that one right. That’s exactly what they are.”

Then I asked the question I’d been saving for just the right moment. “You used to be one of them, didn’t you? Gwendolyn told me you won the Beauty Pageant a while back.”

“Ah, sweet little Gwendolyn. A few months ago she was trying to seduce me. Now I’m the hero of her cautionary tales.”

“You and Gwendolyn had a thing?” I don’t think I was jealous—just surprised to discover that I wasn’t the first.

“Yes, but it didn’t last very long. She found out that I’m not her type. Gwendolyn is the Queen of the Wolves, and I didn’t have what it took to run with the pack.”

“What happened?”

Lucas didn’t answer. Instead, he scanned the walls.

“What were you just looking for?” I asked when he’d finished.

“I never have figured out where they hide all the bugs.”

“Do you really think someone is listening?” I mouthed.

“All technology majors take courses in surveillance. Last semester, I tried to conduct an experiment out here, but the acoustics are terrible. The balcony’s definitely bugged, but I’m not sure how much the mikes can pick up if we keep our voices low.” He took a moment to collect his thoughts. “Here’s what happened. I had a lot of fun playing a bad guy for a while. But then all of this stopped being a game. One day it got real, and that’s when the Wolves found out that I wasn’t one of them.” When Lucas suddenly spun around to face me, it felt like he’d wanted to catch me off guard. “You aren’t one of them either. But you might stand a chance if you manage to bump Gwendolyn out of top place. The Dux has a lot of power. And it doesn’t hurt that you’re an incredible actor. You’re doing a very good job of pretending you belong here. You almost had me fooled too.”

“What makes you think I’m pretending?”

“Aubrey told me.”

No good deed ever goes unpunished. “You guys are friends?”

“I just thought someone should talk to her,” Lucas said.

I didn’t let him glimpse my embarrassment. I tried to reach out to her, but I should have tried harder. I should have been keeping an eye on Aubrey. That’s what Joi would have wanted. “Do you think Aubrey’s ready to go home?”

If Lucas answered, I didn’t hear him. The dorm doors started to shut, and I barely made it inside.

• • •

Yesterday’s conversation is now playing on an endless loop inside my head. I’m studying the beautiful girl who’s sprawled across a divan, reading a book while she absentmindedly twists her golden hair into a knot. I don’t know why I never thought of Gwendolyn as Queen of the Wolves—even though she’s clearly their leader. And as usual, her subjects have gathered around her. We’re all in a lounge that’s reserved for the top twelve students—a large, sunlit chamber inside one of the building’s two towers. I didn’t even realize the lounge existed until Gwendolyn brought me up here today. I shouldn’t be allowed inside before the new rankings are released. But no one is stupid enough to complain.

The room’s furnishings may be posh—leather seats and velvet sofas—but the lounge has a homey, lived-in feeling. The floorboards bear grooves etched by rearranged chairs and dimples left by girls’ high-heeled shoes. A century-old portrait hangs above the flickering fireplace. The painting’s obese subject is either the school’s founder, Madame Mandelbaum, or one of New York’s first female impersonators. Still, it doesn’t detract from the salon-like atmosphere. Generations of Wolves must have gotten their first taste of the good life in this very room. They probably stood at the windows and surveyed the city they’d be setting out to conquer. As far as I know, this is the only place in the school with a view. You can see the outside world from up here. And it can see you.

I took a quick peek but didn’t linger. I was far more intrigued by the listing towers of books propped against the walls. It seems to be the sole library at the Mandel Academy, and I thought I’d find some reading material that could give me hope for the human race. But all the books here are just outdated texts from decades-old classes. I thumbed through a few, and the only thing that brought a smile to my face was a sheet of yellowing paper that fell out of a manual for an old Mac PowerBook 100. Some former student had typed up a list of twenty personality traits and labeled it Hare Psychopathy Checklist. The title instantly grabbed my attention. I learned about the checklist in a criminal justice class back at military school. The test is usually given to prison inmates who are suspected of being dangerous psychopaths. The subject gets a 1 or 2 for each psychopathic personality trait he possesses (pathological lying, inability to feel guilt, impulsive behavior). Then the 1s and 2s are all added up. The highest score you can get is 40. That’s Ted Bundy and Charles Manson territory.

There was a column of numbers jotted down on the right-hand side of the paper I found. Someone must have felt the need to evaluate a student here at the academy. The kid who got tested received a rather impressive 38. At the bottom of the page was a message scrawled in purple marker.



See? You’re the crazy one, you redheaded freak.



I’ve been attempting to translate the phrase into Latin. If I ever succeed, I shall make it my personal motto. But it’s difficult to concentrate when you’re surrounded by Wolves. Caleb, the counterfeit aristocrat, is slouched in a leather club chair with his legs flung over one of the arms. He’s flipping through a history of the Sicilian Mafia, which he told me is required reading for all Human Resources majors. Leila’s fingers are flying across the keys of her computer. Gwendolyn says Leila is pursing a solitary career in technology because she can’t stand to be in the presence of men. I guess Julian doesn’t really qualify as a “man,” because she’s sitting so close to him that she might as well crawl onto his lap. He’s sketching the molecular structure of crack cocaine on a notepad. Some leisure studies majors are trained to be pimps, but Julian’s sole focus is the international drug trade. I’ve also discovered that big ol’ Austin, the only person here with an accent, is just as slippery as a student of politics should be. Almost every word of the short speech he shared with us earlier in the evening had been lifted from one of the Kennedys’. When I called him on it, he just asked me if I figured “regular folks” would know.

I thought Gwendolyn’s friends were trouble before I ever got to know them. Now that I’ve had a chance to observe them up close, I see how truly dangerous they could be. I may soon be their leader, but I doubt they’ll ever respect me. I’ll always have to watch my back. And yet each and every one of the Wolves is completely in awe of Gwendolyn.

She’s caught me staring at her. “What?” she inquires with a smile.

“Nothing,” I say, but I can’t pull my eyes away from her face. How did Little Red Riding Hood manage to conquer the Wolves?

“Hey, guys,” she calls out to the others. “Give us a few minutes, okay?”

And just like that, the four fiercest beasts at the Mandel Academy grab their things and trot right out of the room. This is not what I wanted. It’s been getting harder and harder to resist Gwendolyn’s advances.

“I’ve lured you into my lair, and now we’re alone,” she says when they’re gone. “Are you scared?”

My laugh doesn’t sound quite as confident as I’d like. “You’re pretty tough, but I think I could take you.”

“Are you sure you want to put up a fight?”

She’s slinking across the divan toward my chair. I stop her with a shake of my head.

“Not until I’m one of you,” I tell her. “Not until it’s official. I’m not going to risk my ranking for a piece of ass. Even an ass as attractive as yours.”

Gwendolyn sits back on her haunches and sighs. “That excuse is getting really tired, Flick. Why don’t you just tell me the truth? There’s another girl, isn’t there?”

I make a show of looking around the room. “There is? I don’t see one.”

“Stop trying to mess with my head. Mr. Mandel told me about your girlfriend.”

I feel my fists clench. “He told you? What else did he say?”

“So it’s true. What’s her name? What’s she like?”

I won’t say Joi’s name. I won’t say a word. I won’t pollute my memories of Joi by sharing them with the girl who’s been scheming to replace her.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Gwendolyn says when I refuse to answer. “I already know everything I need to know about this little sweetheart of yours.”

“Oh yeah? And what exactly is that?”

“I know that she’s not here. But I am. And I can help you. I care about you, Flick. I want to help you win your wager.”

Win? I clench my teeth while I wait for the rage to subside. That freckled f— must have told Gwendolyn about my father as well. “What can you do?” I ask when I’m able. “You’re just a student.”

“No—I’m the Dux. I can do things that the rest of you can’t.”

Lucas said the same thing last night. “Like what?”

“Well, let’s see. I can talk to Mr. Mandel whenever I like. I can keep a student from being expelled. I can leave the academy.”

“They let you go outside?” I butt in. That might prove useful.

“As long as I have Mr. Mandel’s permission. Sometimes he even lets me take a guest along. Don’t you see? I can make your time here a whole lot easier.”

“Thanks for the offer, but it hasn’t been all that bad so far.”

Gwendolyn’s voice drops to a whisper. “I may be able to help you graduate faster too.”

Now we’re getting somewhere. “How?”

She hesitates for a moment. “Mr. Mandel told me he’s worried that you’re not totally committed to the academy. He thinks you’re still in love with that girl out there.”

“Even if I were, what difference would it make?” I ask.

“We’re here to become new people, Flick. Mr. Mandel doesn’t believe that’s possible unless we let go of our pasts. It doesn’t matter how good your grades are. If he thinks you haven’t changed by September, he’ll keep you here for another year. But if we were a couple, Mr. Mandel would know that you’ve left everything out there behind.”

“Did he tell you to say that?”

“Of course not!” Gwendolyn’s blushing. But even if Mandel didn’t put the words in her mouth, he still knew she’d say them. That’s why he told her about Joi. This isn’t a way out. It’s a goddamned pop quiz.

I’ve proved I can kick ass in the classroom, but Mandel is telling me that’s not enough. I can’t have my revenge unless I give up everything else. Sleeping with Gwendolyn might earn me an early release, but it would come at too high a price. I’d have to betray the one person on earth that I love. It doesn’t matter that Joi wouldn’t know. I would. Mandel wants the last little piece of my soul, but he can go screw himself. I’ll show him that I can keep it and win.

“So you’re saying I’ll graduate this September if I agree to be your boy toy. Thanks but no thanks, Gwendolyn. I’m a thief, not a prostitute.”

“You make it sound sleazy, and it’s not!” Gwendolyn insists, looking wounded. You’d think I just drop-kicked a kitten. “Don’t you know that I’m crazy about you? I’ve been practically throwing myself at you since you moved upstairs. And you never say ‘no.’ All you do is give me the same sorry excuse. If you’re really not interested, just tell me. I swear I’ll back off!”

Gwendolyn’s been kind to me since I came up from the Suites. I have no idea why a girl like her would ever fall for someone like me. Maybe it’s all just an act, but if it’s not, I don’t want to hurt her. Mandel may have tricked her into delivering his message, but Gwendolyn’s not the one who deserves to be punished.

“There’s not a male on this planet who wouldn’t think you’re extremely interesting,” I offer vaguely. “Where did Mandel find a creature like you?”

Gwendolyn is inching toward me again. She thinks I’ve accepted her offer. “He had me released from juvie two years ago.”

“What were you in for?”

She doesn’t hesitate. “I killed a man who tried to molest me.”

That seems perfectly reasonable to me. I was worried it would be far worse. But when Gwendolyn moves to kiss me, I gently push her back.

“Not yet,” I say as nicely as possible.

Mandel can keep me locked up. He can deny me the proof for another year. But he can’t take Joi. I’ll probably be the academy’s top student in a matter of days. And I might not mind staying here a bit longer if life as the Dux is as sweet as it sounds.

The first thing I’ll do after I win the title is take a trip to the outside world. I won’t put Joi in danger. I won’t try to find her. But there’s one thing I’ve decided I can’t live without. Even though I’ll never see her again, I need to know Joi’s last name.