2.10 There was an incident last year.
I slowly slipped out of that world as I fell asleep, hesitating in the fantasy before it for just a moment. Somehow, I was still sitting at the desk. My butt was numb and I was bored. There was only so much reading, cycling and watching videos that I could do. I wasn’t even really there but I could feel how bored I was the moment I returned to it.
It was making me restless. I wanted to stand up, stop pedalling and pull my door open. I wasn’t even sure if I could do that. It felt like the door would most likely be locked, just based on how much effort they were putting into stopping me from knowing anything about where I was going. Part of me wanted to stand up and check.
I eyed the door handle. There was no lock visible, not on my side at least, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. There could easily be one hidden or just on the outside. I didn’t even remember what the outside of the door looked like. There could have been a lock there. Or the bus was so high-tech, it was probably hidden. It was probably controlled by a single button that Ms Brice could push from the front of the bus.
A knock came from the door as I eyed it and I jumped, guilt racing through me. There was a moment, a small moment where I was sure that they somehow knew what I was thinking, that they were coming to tell me off for it.
I pushed myself out of my chair quickly, my heart pounding in my ears, even though I knew that it was silly. I glanced at my screen, making sure that something appropriate was still on it, but thankfully it still showed a map of the world with flashing dots all over it. That made sense, I realised. I had been learning about the history of international undercover operatives before I started fantasising about ripping the door open and running to freedom.
That was it. I felt like I was in prison. It felt like I had been locked up and the worst thing was, I had come willingly. I had been cautious at first, of course, but then I had seen the school and realised that there was no point in fighting because my mom wanted me to go and they were from the government so they’d be able to force me. I’d wanted to go with Ms Brice and Mr Parner. I hadn’t even really hesitated.
“Come in,” I called, my voice a little shaky.
I sounded guilty. I had nothing to be guilty about, not really, but I sounded it.
“Good evening, Grace,” Ms Brice said as the door opened. “How are you doing?”
“I’m good, thank you,” I said, trying to sound as normal as possible. “How are you?”
“I’m alright, thank you. I have your dinner right here.”
She held out the silver tray towards me and I took it, a hint of desperation washing through me.
I needed the conversation to continue. I couldn’t be trapped inside without anyone to talk to. I needed more.
“How is everything going out there?” I asked quickly, trying to remember what she’d mentioned earlier. “How is the syllabus editing going?”
Ms Brice’s smile widened and I knew that I’d asked a good question.
“It’s going okay,” she said but her tone was a little weary. “Every year we run into the same problems, regardless of the tutors. There’s always one or two who are arguing for something that is not at all appropriate. I mean, this year we have two. Hannah wants your cohort to work with live ammunition within the induction period and Charlie is arguing against some of the safety precautions that we’re insisting on. It’s as if he doesn’t know where the rules came from and why.”
She sighed heavily and shook her head.
“Which rules is he arguing against?” I asked, desperate to know more.
Ms Brice’s shrewd eyes watched me carefully as she decided how much information to tell me. I wanted it all but I knew that she wouldn’t be willing to give it to me.
“He thinks that some of the rules we’ve put in place are unnecessary. He doesn’t believe that this cohort needs to be prevented from being near some of the various plants that we have in our greenhouse until you understand the risk and thinks that it might make you all… soft,” she said the word with contempt but I knew that it wasn’t directed at me but at Charlie.
“Why can’t we go near some of the plants?”
She considered it for a moment.
“They’re dangerous. A lot of plants that are native to Britain and fairly easy to cultivate contain dangerous neurotoxins. They don’t all need to be ingested to poison people either, which is what I have been trying to explain to him. I mean, he’s the botanist so he knows but he just doesn’t care. There was an incident last year which I won’t bore you with the details of but he should know better now,” she sighed.
My mind raced as I tried to work out what she wasn’t saying. I mean, I knew very little about plants and next to nothing about neurotoxins which, judging by the name alone, sounded bad. The incident must have been a bad one for new rules to be introduced and for our cohort not to be allowed near the plants now, right?
Could someone have died? I mean, neurotoxins sounded scary but could they be deadly? I wasn’t sure. Surely if someone had died, the tutor would be more understanding and more willing to prevent us from going near the plants that could kill us… right?
I really didn’t know.
“But, enough of that. There’s one more thing that I wanted to tell you before leaving you to enjoy your food,” she said.
“Oh?” I asked, suddenly realising that I was still holding the tray and forcing myself to put it onto my desk.
It smelt good but I was too engrossed in what Ms Brice was about to say to me.
“We’ve had to take a slight unexpected detour, nothing’s wrong but it means that we will be arriving at the academy a little later than expected,” she said. “I really am sorry. I know that it’s been a long journey already but you’ll be able to get into your dorms, go shower and get some fresh air in the courtyard as soon as you get there. I’ve pushed back the beginning of the induction to give you all a bit of a chance to relax and not just be on this bus so you’ll have a full day once we get there to do whatever you want.”
I nodded, considering her words. I wanted to ask more questions, to find out what happened, but the allure of a shower and being outside is too strong.
“When will we get there?” I asked too quickly before realising that I had more questions. “And is everything okay? Why do we have to take a detour?”
There was another pause and I could tell that Ms Brice was working out how much to tell me again. I waited impatiently for her to finish thinking and actually say something.
“We should be there by the morning, most likely around ten or eleven but that depends on the detour and how long it takes us. Unfortunately, there are some unexpected roadworks that have shut down one of the roads so we had to have the GSOD find us another safe route which took a while and it’s not an optimal journey,” Ms Brice said with a roll of her eyes which instinctively made my lips pull upwards into a smile.
“What’s the GSOD?” I asked, the name sounding strange.
I’d never heard of it before and I couldn’t work out what it could possibly mean.
“Ah, that is part of the academy. It’s the more technical side of things. They organise the logistics of missions, transport, keeping an eye on operatives whilst they’re in the field and that kind of thing,” she explained. “It stands for the Global Security Operations Department. I know, it’s not the most inventive of names.”
I nodded, my mind still racing. Now that she’d explained it, it sounded slightly familiar. I was pretty sure that there was actually a module on the iPad about it. I’d need to study it once she left because I immediately wanted to know more about what they do and how.
It sounded fascinating. I wanted to know more about missions and how they kept an eye on people whilst they were in the field.
“That sounds interesting,” I said genuinely.
“It is,” Ms Brice said, sounding happy. “I spent a good few years in the GSOD. Every officer gets trained in there and learns how to do everything but later you will all get the opportunity to decide where you’d like to be based. I spent a good few years in the field before focusing on the technical side of things.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, it’s a very interesting place to work. No two days are the same. It involves a lot of research and creative problem which can make things pretty fun,” she said before seeming to remember something. “We’ve been informed that there is an outdoor space a little while away where we can stop, if necessary. Are you feeling restless because we do have time for you to get some fresh air?”
“Yes!” I said, a little bit too quickly before adding, “Please.”
Ms Brice smiled before nodding.
“Fantastic. Have your dinner and feel free to continue studying because we won’t be there for a little while but I will come and fetch you once we are,” she said before stepping back a little, further into the corridor. “Feel free to call me if you need anything before then.”
“Thanks,” I said, letting the door shut.
I’m not sure if it was just because I was listening out for it that time but I did hear the gentle thud of the door locking. It almost didn’t matter to me though because I knew that soon, I would be able to go outside and in the morning, I would be there. At the academy.
Where I would learn to be a spy.
Excitement burnt through me before dying quickly. I knew that I was going to be so busy, so distracted by everything there that I probably wouldn’t have the time or inclination to go back to the other world where I was popular and where there was something kind of weird thing happening with Aaron that I couldn’t work out but I wanted to. It felt like there was so much that I didn’t know, in this world and the other, but I wanted to know.
I needed to start where I could, by finding out more about the GSOD and then I could go back to the other dream, the world with Amy’s diner and Aaron, and I could find out more there. That was the best option.
I sunk into my seat slowly, closing the lesson that I had open and scanning the screen for the lesson about the GSOD. I found it before long and needed to repress the groan of irritation that built in my throat. It was locked. Apparently, I needed to read the information before it. There were two classes that I needed to complete before I could get to the one about the GSOD. The first one seemed to be about technological advances within the security and intelligence industry and the second focused on career paths within the department.
I had to fight the desire to let my head slump forwards against the iPad as frustration built within me. Don’t get me wrong, I did want to know about both of those things. I was fascinated by the concept of a future within the academy and even the technological advances sounded kind of interesting but I just wanted to know about the GSOD.
Everything had been interesting so far, it had, but this was the first time it was about something less… information dense. I mean, it was something more relevant. I’d be actually going into the GSOD or visiting, I wasn’t really sure, the rest were more like abstract concepts or information that I’d need to know but would never actually use. Like algebra.
That time, I was unable to suppress the sigh that slipped from my lips. It was soft, luckily. It probably wouldn’t even get picked up by the cameras and microphones that I had a feeling were hidden in the room. I didn’t like to think about it too much or too seriously though because I knew that, if I did, I’d get creeped out. I mean, I had spent the last two days or however long locked inside the room. I’d slept there, eaten there, gone to the toilet there. I hated to think that someone had been watching me the entire time. That made me queasy.
I forced myself to take a deep breath, the scent of the food in front of me tickling my senses, and focused on the iPad again. It was fine. I’d already been here for two days and I’d already made my way through what felt like countless modules. I could manage a couple more. I didn’t even really need to be there, I could go into the other world or stay in reality. That was fine, I could manage that.
Even just thinking that made me uncomfortable. I didn't want to stay in reality, I didn't want to spend my day doing nothing. I was going to go for a swim and then go out for dinner with my mom. What was I meant to do, just be alone with my thoughts?
That made my stomach clench and pulled me back to reality where I was still lying face down on my bed. I knew that I needed to get up and do something. I needed to go for a swim and not just spend the whole day in bed, like I wanted to.
My body still hurt and that made me feel pathetic. I wasn’t even sure why it hurt, I hadn’t done anything but it felt like I’d run for far too long or fallen badly or something. I had no clue what it was but I was in pain. Something started to pull at me though. A suspicion or worry. I knew that it was irrelevant or stupid or something but…
I couldn’t help but think that it had something to do with my fantasies. My daydreams. I mean, I had felt fine until I had been pulled out of it by my mom. I had been fine in the car, I hadn’t been in pain or anything like that so I just couldn’t think of anything else that it could be. But what if it was something else?
What if I was ill? Could I have had a stroke or something? I mean, that happened to Phoebe’s uncle and she’d said that he couldn’t really stand and was really dizzy and stuff so what if it had happened to me? I knew that I was young which made it unlikely but not impossible.
That terrified me. I sat up suddenly, throwing myself off the bed. I was still in a bit of pain but it wasn’t bad. It was more like the echo of pain rather than the searing pain that I’d felt before. It was still worrying but I could stand up straight. I didn’t have any dizziness and, when I moved about, the pain lessened. So maybe it wasn’t that. Maybe I’d just been really tensing my body before or something. That happened sometimes when I was really anxious and I didn’t always notice until it hurt my muscles. It could have been that.
I was still worried though. I knew that I should probably talk to a doctor or someone about it but I just couldn’t. I’d have to explain to them about the daydreaming and fantasising and everything which would be horrifying enough but then they might also ask stuff about my home life and Mom and I didn’t want to deal with that. Even just considering it made my cheeks burn.
Plus, I’d need to ask my mom to book the appointment because I didn’t know where any doctors were around my grandparent’s place and she’d ask questions. She’d want to know why I needed to speak to a doctor and maybe even insist on sitting in the appointment with me, just to make sure that I didn’t speak poorly of her. It wouldn’t be the first time.
I knew that I wouldn’t be able to bring myself to talk about anything with my mom there though. She’d react so badly and then I’d have to put up with her mocking and snide comments pretty much endlessly from then on. She’d constantly tease me about the daydreaming and issues it causes, or worse. She would get annoyed at me for it. I could almost already hear her asking me what was so bad about my life that I felt the need to dive into other worlds and fantasies to get away.
I wouldn’t have an answer for that because it was her. Not just her, of course. I mean, there were other things that made me want to be anywhere else like how lonely I was and how endlessly trapped inside my own head I felt, but it was mostly her. She wouldn’t react well to that, I already knew.
But then what? I just had to keep dealing with it forever? Maybe not forever but for now. What if there was a way around it, a way that I could deal with it? I mean, it only really seemed to happen when I was in a fantasy. Not quite that but when I was pulled out of it unexpectedly. That had to be relevant, it had to be linked.
Was there any way around that? What if I was more careful? If I kept more of an eye on the real world when I was around people? Or I could just not let myself get pulled back to it so quickly. I mean, I could exist in most situations on autopilot, just letting myself act without really thinking about it. Could I just do that more and then slowly come out of it? That made more sense, right?
I know it sounds stupid. The obvious solution, the most obvious, was to just stop. Give up on fantasising and never even try to go to another world or daydream or whatever it was, but that concept was unbearable. I couldn’t be trapped in reality forever. I’d go mad or run away or hurt myself or something. I needed the escape. I needed to be able to not be here.
I nodded, realising that I was pacing and coming to a stop. I’d just be smarter about it. Plan when to escape into the fantasies and make sure that I came out of them slowly so that I didn’t get as hurt as I did before. That made sense. I could manage that. A small smile grew on my face as I nodded to myself. It sounded like a good plan.
That time, when I moved, there was almost no pain. I was able to bend down and grab a swimsuit, a bikini now that my grandparents were gone, out of my suitcase without even wincing. My body ached as I shrugged out of my clothes but it wasn’t a sharp pain. It was manageable, barely even noticeable. I could cope with that.
The pain got better as I started getting changed and, by the time I was dressed in just my bikini, I couldn’t feel it at all.
I hesitated as I opened the door to my room, my towel wrapped loosely around my shoulders to protect me from the surprisingly cold air, and listened out for my mom. I couldn’t hear anything though. The corridor outside was silent and there was no noise coming from her room. She must still be in the kitchen where she had gone when we got back. I’d need to walk through it to get to the pool.
Lifting my chin high and holding my towel carefully, I stepped out into the hall. The carpet was scratchy under my bare feet but I didn’t mind. It felt kind of nice. Somehow, it was helping distract me enough to stop me from even wanting to go to the fantasy where I could feel myself eating dinner, a surprisingly good vegetable lasagne, and pedalling as I read more. I’d wait until I got to the pool, that made the most sense. Then, I wouldn’t need to risk being pulled out of the fantasy if my mom wanted to talk to me as I passed.
She probably wouldn’t, she generally just ignored me.
I reached the bottom of the stairs and started along the corridor towards the kitchen, the floor chill against my feet. It made goosebumps break out on my skin but they were forgotten when my phone buzzed. I lifted it, a smile pulling at my lips as I read the message from Phoebe.
Successfully managed to order lunch without the waiter looking baffled or speaking to me in English. That feels like a win, right? she’d written.
Oh yeah, that’s great! You’re going to be fluent by the time you get back, I typed quickly.
The dots immediately appeared at the bottom of the screen, telling me that she was already replying.
I wouldn’t go that far but I reckon that I’ll be able to pass… maybe half the tests we get next year. How is it there?
That’s pretty good. Maybe if your parents send you there over half term and Christmas, you’ll be able to pass them all? I typed before adding, Not too bad. Bout to go swimming.
Please don’t suggest that to my mom. She would in an instant. I’m jealous! Have fun! Phoebe wrote.
I would never. Thanks!
“Did you not eat any of that candy?” my mom demanded and I froze before turning towards her.
I had been too distracted by texting Phoebe that I had barely noticed that I’d entered the kitchen.
“Um, no,” I said after a pause where I had to think about it.
I’d spent too much time in the other world but I was pretty sure I hadn’t.
My mom’s critical gaze took me in and I realised that towel I had wrapped around my shoulders had come over. I pulled it tighter around me, feeling uncomfortable.
“You’ve lost weight.”
It was a statement, not a question or anything, but I knew that she was waiting for me to thank her for noticing. She made too many comments about her body and other people’s and I knew that she saw losing weight as a compliment but I didn’t. Not really. I mean, I was torn. I did a little but also I didn’t mind my body. I was awkwardly shaped, that was for sure, but I didn’t hate it like she clearly did. I didn’t feel the need to lose weight.
I felt the urge to tell her that, the words rising up in my throat but I stuffed them down, choosing instead to thank her.
“Thank you,” I said, my words flat and not even sounding genuine to my own ears.
Her lips ticked up into a smile and she glanced away, looking at her book again. I stood there awkwardly for a moment before turning away. I was almost out of the room when she spoke again.
“Be careful not to lose too much more weight. You’re already too boney and you’ll end up looking like a boy.”
I didn’t bother replying to that.