How to Lead a Life of Crime

chapter FOURTEEN



FALLING FROM GRACE





The door opens, and I immediately glance back at the alarm clock on my dorm room desk. It still says ten minutes to eight. Time for breakfast. But that can’t be right. The atrium is dark. It must be the dead of night.

I step out onto the balcony and look up, expecting to see the moon hanging in the sky above. But the glass pyramid that spans most of the building’s roof is covered in snow. There could be a blizzard raging at this very moment—and I’d almost forgotten it was winter. I watch a few other students glance upward as they exit their rooms. Those who’ve been out a bit longer are leaning over the balcony’s railing.

I join the crowd. There’s something on the floor of the atrium, eight stories below. It looks like a rumpled pile of laundry surrounded by a pool of black liquid. Then I see a hand poking out of a sleeve, and I realize I’m looking at four twisted limbs and a torso. One of the students has jumped. His body covers most of the school motto. All it says now is emergo.

I know it’s a human being. I know I’m not dreaming. Dozens of other people are witnessing the very same scene. At least one person should be screaming or crying or shouting for help. But we’re all silent. The faces around me are completely inscrutable. They’ve spent the last month pretending to be thieves, drug dealers, and war profiteers. One dead kid isn’t enough to shock them anymore.

I’ve wondered what a moment like this would feel like. It doesn’t feel real.

“It’s starting early this semester.” I hear Lucas’s voice.

I’d like to ask him if this has happened before. I want to know how many students have committed suicide since he’s been at the academy. But I don’t dare say a word. Caleb is standing just a few feet to my right. I raise my eyes to the ninth-floor balcony, just in time to see Gwendolyn take a quick glance at the scene below and then glide away.

“Who is it?” I ask Caleb.

“Who cares?” he says. “I bet Aubrey would be the first to go, and that’s not her. This is the second Beauty Pageant I’ve lost this year.”

• • •

The school-wide rankings are being posted this morning, and the elevators are packed with students on their way to the cafeteria. I’ve been told that no one ever misses breakfast on ranking days. But judging by the anxious expression on most of the faces, I doubt any Androids or Ghosts will be able to eat. Gwendolyn, on the other hand, looks positively bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. She’s waiting for me on the sixth-floor balcony. I’m impressed by her display of willpower. If I’d gotten here first, I wouldn’t have waited. I don’t even pause to ask if she knows which of our classmates just died.

The cafeteria seems even brighter than usual. The jumbo-size screen that’s been dark since the beginning of the semester has finally come to life. The only thing on it is a list of names. The academy’s students have been ranked from one to fifty-five. I’m number 2. Gwendolyn is still number 1.

“You won,” I say as I stare at the screen.

“I’m sorry, Flick. Maybe you’ll be the Dux next time.”

If the competition were fair, I’d have the title right now. I’m number one in all of my classes. Which means Gwendolyn is number two in the ones that we share. She couldn’t have beaten me unless the rankings are rigged. I expected Mandel to play by the rules, but he denied me the title just to prove he’s in charge. He sent me Gwendolyn, and I pushed her away. I wouldn’t betray Joi. I couldn’t let go of that last little piece of my soul.

I’m trapped. I didn’t do what he wanted and Mandel took my title. The next time, he might do something much worse.

“I gotta go. I’ll see you in class,” I tell Gwendolyn. It’s the most I can muster.

I need to escape. I need to get back to my room before I lose control. But there’s someone blocking my path. Ella. I don’t recall seeing her recently, even though we’re both taking the Fundamentals of Business. She spends most of her free time shut up in her room, trying to study her way out of the Androids.

“Did you see?” She sounds spooked. Ella, the girl who shot her uncle four times in the head, is scared.

I glance back at the rankings and search for her name. She’s sixteenth. Not good enough to be a Wolf, but not a bad showing for a newbie with no formal education. I’m about to say as much, but she shakes her head. Whatever she’s seen, I haven’t found it yet.

I start to scan the entire list, and I come to an abrupt halt at number 12. Ivan is officially a Wolf. Further proof that these rankings are utter bullshit. I’m not the only one who’s been screwed. If I were Ella, I’d be hurling food at the walls. But then I get to the bottom of the list, and I see why Ella’s too frightened to fight. Number 53 is Frances; 54 is Aubrey. Felix has taken last place. And suddenly it hits me so hard that I almost collapse. Felix was the kid who jumped.

“He told me yesterday that he was going home to Miami,” Ella whispers.

I can’t respond. I’m too busy filing through seven weeks of memories. Felix wanted out from the very beginning. Why would he kill himself right before he was supposed to leave? Yesterday he was planning to head back to Miami. Did he wake up this morning and realize that the only thing there would be a life turning tricks? At least he had something to go back to. There are kids here who’d have nothing. Like Aubrey . . . Oh shit.

“Hello, I’m Gwendolyn.” She’s holding out a hand to Ella.

“Ella.” I almost expect her to curtsy.

“Your ranking is very impressive,” Gwendolyn says. “Mr. Mandel thinks you’ll be in the top twelve soon. Maybe even by next semester.”

“He does?” I saw Ella smile on our first day in the Incubation Suites. Since then her face must have forgotten how. She’s doing her best. The corners of her mouth are turned up. I even see a few teeth. But it’s not a smile. It’s a rictus grin.

“Absolutely. It could be the first time that three students from the same Incubation Group all reach the top twelve. So we’re very excited. It’s a shame about Felix, though. I asked Mr. Mandel to give him a few weeks to work his way up from the bottom. But I guess the competition was just a little too much for him. Not everyone is as naturally gifted as you and Flick.”

“Thank you,” Ella gushes. I bet she’s already forgotten about Felix.

“I just call it like I see it,” says the Dux.

I escort Gwendolyn to a table where the rest of the Wolf pack has convened. She slides onto a stool next to Caleb, who’s busy licking his wounds. You’d think the guy was number 30 rather than third in the school. Gwendolyn immediately sets to work on Caleb’s injured ego. She’s barely listening when I announce I’m going for food. I slip out of the cafeteria and hurry up to the eighth floor. The timing isn’t ideal, but I doubt it ever will be. I need to find Aubrey as quickly as possible. The last time I spoke to her, she said she wouldn’t be leaving the academy. I know that hope can play tricks on a person’s mind. But now the truth has been posted for the whole school to see. Aubrey will be gone soon. Maybe even by the end of today. So I need to tell her what I wish I’d told Felix. That the world outside isn’t as dark as it seems. There’s someone who will help her. Aubrey doesn’t need to jump.

The Androids usually spend breakfast time in their rooms, cramming before classes begin. But today, the eighth floor is deserted. I stick close to the wall. No one on the balcony downstairs should be able to see me. When I reach Aubrey’s room, I’m certain I’m too late. The bed is made. The computer lid is closed. The bathroom door is wide open. I’ve never visited her room before, and I’m shocked to see a badly burned teddy bear resting against her pillows. Most kids have something—a picture, book, or memento from their previous lives. But Aubrey’s bear isn’t your typical keepsake. It’s lost an ear and one arm. The few patches of fur that aren’t charred are covered in grime. Maybe Aubrey rescued it from the fire that incinerated her parents. I guess I can understand why she wouldn’t want to throw it away. But I can’t fathom why she’d keep a foul thing like that on her bed.

I’m about to rush back down to the cafeteria when I hear a grunt in the bathroom. A single, gorilla-like grunt. I know what it means before my brain has time to translate it. I freeze, hoping I’m wrong, and then the sound of ripping fabric sends me sprinting for the bathroom door.

I can only see her legs. He’s crouching over her, one knee on either side of her slender hips. He hasn’t heard me come in. He’s too busy tearing the clothes off her body. Aubrey’s not kicking or screaming. I wonder if she’s already dead.

The demon takes over me, but even it knows better than to make too much noise. I grab the back of Ivan’s shirt and drag him off Aubrey. I’m glad to have the element of surprise working in my favor. I can feel how much weight he’s gained since the last time we fought—and every ounce of it is muscle. There’s not a single soft spot on his body. Still, I have little trouble shoving Ivan’s head down into the toilet bowl. His nose is an inch above the water. There’s no doubt in my mind that the hole at the bottom will be the last thing he sees.

“I warned you,” I growl in his ear. “I told you I’d kill you if you messed with Aubrey.”

“I’m number 12 now. I can do what I want.” He’s not scared, so I shove his face into the water and hold his head down.

“Don’t.” The whisper comes from behind me. My grip loosens momentarily, and Ivan’s head rises above the rim.

I hear him suck in air, but he doesn’t cough. He was holding his breath and waiting for me to lose my nerve. “What are you doing?” he demands. “She’s a Ghost.”

That’s the question everyone will be asking. They’ll want to know why I skipped breakfast to rescue an outcast.

“I’m number 2 at this school,” I remind him. “I came to claim what’s rightfully mine.”

“Gwendolyn is number 1. And you belong to her. She’ll kill you if she finds out about this.”

I see Ivan has been paying attention in blackmail class. “Are you threatening to upset my sweet poopsie-woopsie?” I snarl.

I push his head back under the water, and I feel a small hand on my shoulder. “I’m not worth it,” says Aubrey. Then she bends down. Her lips brush my ear, and her voice is so soft I can barely make out her words. “Lucas thinks you’re here for a reason. Please don’t let me get in the way.”

It doesn’t make any sense. Aubrey can’t possibly know why I’m here. But I pull Ivan’s dripping head out of the toilet. He’s been under long enough to have filled both lungs with fluid. A few more seconds and he would have drowned.

“I don’t want your corpse killing the mood,” I tell him. “Get out and keep your mouth shut—or next time I’ll finish the job.”

He’s still coughing up toilet water as he crawls out of the room.

Aubrey’s bottom lip is swollen, and there’s blood smeared across the left side of her face. He must have hit her pretty hard. She’s standing in her underwear, holding the shredded remains of her shirt together. I open my mouth to say what I came to say, but she puts a finger to her lips. She’s trying to tell me the room might be bugged. But if she thought someone was listening, why didn’t she scream?

Thank you, she mouths silently. “Don’t hurt me,” she begs out loud. She wants the eavesdroppers to think that she’s scared of me. Which means she’s managed to keep her wits about her. So why the hell didn’t she scream?

I grab her arm and drag her toward me. “Remember the girl I told you about?” I whisper in her ear. “Go to Pitt Street. Ask for Joey—spelled J-o-i. She’ll help you. Promise you’ll do it, Aubrey. Promise me you won’t jump.” I feel Aubrey nod. “And when you get there, don’t tell Joi where I am. Just tell her I still love her. Will you do that?” I feel her nod again. “Good. Don’t worry about Ivan. I’ve got your back till you’re gone.”

When I let her go, she clutches my arm and pulls me toward her. I feel a soft kiss on my cheek. She’s crying now. I want to believe they’re tears of relief. Aubrey points to the door. She’s right. I should go.

“I’m not interested in damaged goods,” I say loud enough for any bugs in the room. “Fix yourself up. I’ll be back for you later.”

As I leave Aubrey’s room, I hear voices rising from the bottom of the atrium, so I take a cautious peek over the balcony. Three academy employees in white lab coats are finally carting Felix’s remains away. They disappear into one of the elevators, leaving a trail of bloody footprints across the courtyard. Before today, I would have argued that only cowards take their own lives. But while the rest of us were striving to win Mandel’s game, Felix simply refused to play. I wrote him off as a walking stereotype. I never realized he was the bravest kid here.

Which makes me wonder how much I’ve gotten all wrong. The only thing I know for sure is that Lucas was right. This has suddenly gotten a little too real.

• • •

I’m a few minutes early for the Fundamentals of Business. So, it appears, is everyone else. Frances—Number 53—is sitting at a desk in the center of the room. She’s weeping. Tears and snot are pouring down her face, as if everything inside her were being squeezed out. A few students are snickering. But they’re not laughing at her. Julian is standing right behind Frances, mocking her suffering. His performance is perfect—he’s even mastered the snot. When Ms. Brown enters the room, Julian breaks into a wide, sunny smile. Two or three people clap as he wipes his face with a tissue. Ms. Brown clears her throat, and I expect her to say something about Felix.

“Who can give me a legal definition of fraud?” she asks.

I can’t let anyone see how shaken I am, so I force myself to raise my hand.

• • •

Gwendolyn walks with me to the Art of Persuasion. I can tell by the way she greets me that Ivan hasn’t told her what happened in Aubrey’s room. It’s beginning to dawn on me how tricky this whole situation has gotten. If Ivan rats me out, I could be totally screwed. Without Gwendolyn’s help I might end up stuck in this hellhole for years. So I’ve got to stop acting recklessly. And I’ve got to go back to working out every day. The only thing that’s going to keep Ivan’s mouth shut is the belief that I’m capable of killing him.

I feel eyes on the back of my head as soon as we take our seats. I shouldn’t look, but I do. Lucas is two rows behind me. He holds my stare for a beat too long. Aubrey must have told him about my good deed of the day. Gwendolyn turns to see what’s grabbed my attention, and she gives Lucas a smile and a wave. He cracks open his computer and ignores her.

“Poor kid,” Gwendolyn murmurs.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Didn’t you see? Lucas is in the bottom five.”

I’m not worried about Lucas. He’ll never jump.

• • •

The word suicide greets me when I enter Human Psychology. Our instructor, Mr. Davis, has just finished writing it on the blackboard at the front of the room. It’s fifth period, and the subject hasn’t been broached since breakfast. Here at the Mandel Academy, most people seem to move on with their lives with remarkable speed. But the seven other students in my class all flinch when they walk through the door. It’s like they’ve been greeted with a slap in the face. I noticed a few weeks back that the course was filled with bottom-ranking Androids. My fellow Wolves don’t need to learn these lessons.

I’ve been number one in Human Psychology since the first day of the semester. It’s easy to play along. Every time I’m asked a question in class, I imagine that human beings are just arrogant monkeys. We may think we’re superior because some of us love our children or believe in God. But every single belief we hold, food we crave, or mate we choose can be traced right back to the fight for survival. According to Mr. Davis, our lives have only one purpose: to pass our genes to the next generation and ensure the survival of our species.

Sometimes it’s fun to connect all the dots. Why do gentlemen prefer blondes? Well, before Clairol came along, blond hair was a sign of youth. And youth means fertility. And fertility means lots of offspring. And the more offspring, the better our species’ chance of survival. Ding, ding, ding! We’re all just monkeys!

But I’m not in the mood for games today. Mr. Davis has chosen the one subject I refuse to find funny.

“Why do some human beings commit suicide?” he asks. “Who can tell me?”

I know exactly what answer he wants to hear, but for once I’m not going to give it to him. There’s a longer-than-usual pause. We’ve taken a detour from the syllabus, and the Androids are unprepared.

“Depression?” someone ventures.

“Close,” the instructor says. “Flick?”

“The need for escape.”

Mr. Davis looks like a zookeeper who’s just been mauled by his favorite chimp. “No,” he snaps. “The sole cause of suicide is mental illness. It may come in a variety of forms—depression, substance abuse, or schizophrenia, to name just a few—but there’s always an illness behind the act. Not all flaws are evident from birth. Some remain hidden for years. Fortunately, evolution provided sickly brains with a self-destruct mechanism. Suicide is just another way that nature eliminates the weak from the gene pool.”

“Tell that to a samurai,” I growl. I promised myself I wouldn’t be reckless—but I won’t sit here and hold my tongue. I’m not going to let him convince these kids that Felix was defective.

“Excuse me?”

“In medieval Japan, the samurai saw suicide as a way to die with honor. A warrior would commit seppuku rather than fall into enemy hands.”

Mr. Davis nods as if I’ve made an excellent point. “If there was no hope of winning, then the enemy was superior. The act of seppuku may appear honorable, but the end result was the same. The weak died and the strong prevailed.”

I’m losing my touch. I should have seen that one coming. Even the samurai were chimps.

• • •

I nearly killed one of the lesser Wolves in Hand-to-Hand Combat. He shouldn’t have congratulated me on taking second place the day we started training with knives. It took the rest of the class to pull the two of us apart. I didn’t plan it in advance, but as it turns out, nearly slitting a fellow Wolf’s throat was a brilliant move. Gwendolyn seems convinced that I’m still angry about the rankings. I haven’t been thinking about them at all.

We’re in the Wolves’ Den, which is my new name for the tower lounge. Most of the pack went downstairs to dinner a few minutes ago. I have no interest in eating. Gwendolyn is here too. But I’m not in the mood for chitchat, so I lie down and pretend to nap.

“Flick,” Gwendolyn says. “I know you’re not asleep. And I know you think that you should be Dux.”

I open my eyes. She’s kneeling by my side. “And you’re telling me I’m wrong?” I ask. “I’m first in all of my classes. You’re second in two of yours. I thought there was a chance that some dark horse might beat me. But either way, the title should have changed hands.”

“Academics are only part of the equation, Flick. I tried to warn you. Mr. Mandel doesn’t believe that you’re ready to be Dux. He can’t counsel you in person right now, but he wants you to think about the reward you were promised. If you’re going to graduate, you’ll have to focus on that. Nothing else should matter while you’re here.”

My big reward. The proof of my father’s crime. It’s funny—I forgot all about it today. I’ve been running around trying to rescue Aubrey, who won’t even scream to help herself. Trying to defend a kid who’s already dead. Holding on to the memory of a girl I’ll never see again. Wondering how a person could love someone and still choose to leave them behind.

“Why you?” I ask Gwendolyn. “Why does Mandel think you deserve to be Dux?”

“Mr. Mandel knows that this school is all I have. Everything I care about is here.”

“Seriously? You don’t care about anyone out there? What about your mother? Don’t you miss her?”

Gwendolyn snorts. “When I was little, my mother spent more time at the bar down the street than she ever spent at home. She didn’t want to be with me, so what’s the point in missing her?”

She’s right. There’s no point at all.

I reach down and grab Gwendolyn by the waist. I lift her, and she’s as light as a doll. I lay her down on the divan and kiss her. I’m preparing to do much more than that when I hear someone else enter the room. I’m moving too fast to come to a sudden stop. When I do, I find Ivan leering at us.

“You’ve been watching?” Gwendolyn snarls, and Ivan knows he’s just stepped in it.

It’s an excellent opportunity to make a point. “Why don’t you head down to your room, Gwendolyn. I’ll meet up with you in a minute. I just need to have a quick chat with my old buddy Ivan.”

“Don’t get blood on the furniture,” she says, sounding perfectly serious. “If you have to kill him, do it out on the landing.”

When Ivan and I are alone, I spread myself across the divan.

“So do you see how things work around here?” I ask. “Do you see why you’ll want to stay on my good side?”

“Yes,” he says. And he does. I can tell.

“Then forget this morning ever happened. And get the hell out of this lounge. You’re not welcome back until I personally give you permission.”

“But I’m supposed to meet Caleb . . .”

“Screw Caleb,” I tell him. “This conversation is over.”

Ivan leaves, but I’m not in any rush to get back to Gwendolyn. I stay on the divan and close my eyes. Anything, anything. You have to do anything. Mandel was right when he said I’d lost focus. I came to the academy for the proof he promised. But he’s made it pretty clear that he’ll never let me graduate unless I want it enough to let Joi go.

After I found out about Felix, I spent the day wishing Joi was here. If she had been, I know I would have told her what happened to me and my family. The whole story—even the parts I try never to think about. And I might have felt a little bit better. But I don’t need to feel better. I need to grow the hell up.

Joi made me weak when I was around her. I’m not a Lost Boy, and I’m too old for a Wendy. But I want to remember her once before I let go. All I get is a faint whiff of jasmine before my dream’s interrupted. And then the last person I’ll love is gone for good.

• • •

“It’s not the way the system works!” Caleb’s voice grows louder as he scales the stairs to the tower. I can’t see him from where I’m lying. But more importantly, he can’t see me.

“You already lost your Beauty Pageant bet. What do you care who gets to go next?” Austin asks in his BBQ-and-Budweiser drawl.

“I just don’t understand why she’d stoop to spare a Ghost!”

“Aw, come on. You know why. She’s still trying to get into Flick’s pants, and he’s got a weird soft spot for that Aubrey girl.”

“More proof he’s a loser,” Caleb grumbles. “This whole situation is completely revolting. Someone should speak to Mr. Mandel.”

“Give it a week or so. You don’t know what Gwendolyn has in mind,” Austin argues. “Besides, if Flick ain’t had a piece yet, he must not like girls at all. Way I figure, things’ll probably be back to normal real soon.”

They’re in the lounge. They’ll see me any second now, so I better act fast.

“You’re right, Austin,” I declare as I stand up and unbuckle my belt. “I don’t like girls. I only have eyes for you. What are you now? Number 6? So drop your pants, bubba. You’ve been outranked. And considering the conversation I just overheard, you might not want to turn down number 2.”

It’s probably my imagination, but I think I detect a whimper.

“Flick, I, I . . .” For a future politician, Austin isn’t too good at thinking on his feet.

“Were you really just questioning Gwendolyn’s decisions?” I ask Caleb. “And threatening to take your complaints to Mandel? Do you think you know better than Gwendolyn does?”

“No, of course not!” Caleb insists. “It’s just . . .”

“Just what? As far as I can tell, the system you’re so fond of works like this: you do what the Dux tells you to do, and you keep your mouth shut. Am I right?”

“Yes,” Caleb admits.

“Then don’t forget it again.” I head for the door.

“Where are you going?” Austin asks nervously.

“Gotta answer a booty call,” I tell him. “Let’s hope Gwendolyn doesn’t get all chatty when we’re finished.”

I don’t think I’ll rat them out right away. I have no idea what the consequences might be if Gwendolyn knew what I just heard. But Austin and Caleb do, and I really enjoy seeing them sweat.

I head downstairs to the ninth-floor balcony and start searching for an excuse to go somewhere other than Gwendolyn’s room. I lean over the railing. At the bottom of the atrium, the last traces of Felix have finally been scrubbed away. Lucas is standing one floor below me, surveying the very same scene. I should give him the good news about Aubrey, so I hop on the elevator and beg it to be as quiet as possible.

“Bad day for both of us,” Lucas remarks once I’m standing beside him.

“And a worse one for Felix.”

“I’m not so sure about that. At least he’s free.” Lucas looks over at me. “You’ll get used to it. A couple of Ghosts kill themselves every semester.”

“Every semester? Why so many?”

“I don’t know. But I guess I’ll find out.”

“I heard you’re in the bottom five.” Might as well get the subject out of the way. “I’m sorry. If you need any help on the outside . . .”

“I won’t. And you don’t need to pity me, Flick. I’d rather be number fifty-two than number two,” he says. “Gwendolyn’s going to own you now.”

I lower my voice to a whisper. “She’s not as bad as you think. I just heard that Gwendolyn talked Mandel into sparing Aubrey.”

Lucas’s eyes narrow. “Sparing her?”

“From being expelled.”

“Well, I know Ivan will be thrilled to hear that Aubrey’s staying.”

“I’ll be watching out for her while she’s here,” I tell him.

“Oh yeah? And what if the Wolves decide to go after you? You never considered that, did you? I bet you think you’re safe now that you’re the queen’s favorite boy.” Lucas pauses for a dramatic sigh. “Oh well, I suppose while you’re watching Aubrey’s back, I’ll just have to watch yours.”

I feel a flash of annoyance. “What makes you think I need your help? You’re number fifty-two. Maybe you should focus on saving your own ass, Lucas. Why waste your time on me?”

“Good question. Well, we can’t call it altruism, can we? I remember learning in Human Psychology that there’s no such thing. So let’s just say that I’m acting in my own self-interest. I’m trying to save my species.”

“What the hell does that mean?” I demand, just as one of the elevators stops on our floor.

“Looks like you’ve got a visitor,” Lucas says. “Give her my love.” I can see Gwendolyn’s pale hair through the gates. She’s come to collect me. By the time I turn to say goodbye, Lucas is already back in his room.