Page 19 of The Academy
“She’s not in her room,” Simone says. “But it looks like she just stepped out for a minute. I thought maybe she was there.”
“She’s not, I would have noticed her,” Rhode says. He pauses. “Do you want me to tell Audre?”
“Please don’t,” Simone says. “I’m sure she’ll turn up. She probably went to the Paddock.”
“The Paddock is closed,” Rhode says. “I’ll go upstairs and check the Grille.”
“Good idea,” Simone says. “Text me if she’s there, please. I’ll do a little walk around.”
Rhode hangs up, and Simone experiences some relief, at least, in sharing the news, even if it was with someone as clueless as she is.Charley is probably at the Grille; the food there is good, they serve smashburgers and thin, crispy fries and also a killer lemongrass chicken banh mi and sweet potato tots that Simone is in danger of becoming addicted to. Of course Charley went to the Grille. However, a second later, there’s a text from Rhode:Not in Grille. Not in theater or arcade. Not in the Teddy at all.
Simone steps outside. The moon shines over the four spires of the chapel.The chapel?Simone thinks. Is Charleyreligious? The only thing she seems to worship is books.
Then, Simone gets it—the library! Charley probably went to the Sink. Maybe she came across something in her reading that she wanted to explore further (but,Simone thinks,isn’t that what the internet is for?). Still, Simone will check the Sink. She’ll probably find Charley wandering the stacks or maybe doing the unthinkable and trying out the Senior Sofa. The Senior Sofa, located on the landing that overlooks the first floor of the library, is for sixth-form students only; not even faculty can sit on it, or even stand on the Persian rug under it. The sofa is wide and deep, Tiffin green velvet with gold cord trim. As Audre Robinson explained, the Senior Sofa is a hallowed Tiffin tradition. “It’s hideous and not even particularly comfortable,” she said. “But because it’s off-limits until the kids reach sixth-form, it’s the most coveted seating in the entire school.”
As Simone hurries along, far more fleet now that she’s in her sneakers, she hears a mechanical whir and sees a John Deere Gator appear out of the darkness. The school custodian, Mr. James, is driving. Simone flags him down, mostly so he won’t run her over. He’s cruising at quite a clip.
“Hi?” she says. “I’m Simone Bergeron, the history teacher?” She has never spoken to Mr. James, and she’s afraid he’ll mistake her for a student.
“Yup,” he says with a curt nod. “I know who you are.”
He knows who she is? Should she be flattered or alarmed?
“We seem to be missing a student,” she says. “A girl, tall, thin, wears glasses. Have you seen her walking around?”
“Everyone’s at the dance,” Mr. James says.
“Everyone except this one student,” Simone says. She takes in Mr. James’s appearance. He’s somewhere in his early sixties, white, a bit overweight, with a military buzz cut and striking blue eyes. He has a gruffness about him, an indifference and authority that make him attractive. Simone’s not sure why she’s surprised. Everyone at Tiffin is good-looking; it’s like some kind of requirement.
Can Simone charm him? “You’re the head of security, right?”
Mr. James stares at her. “I haven’t seen her, sweetheart.”
Calling Simone “sweetheart” is inappropriate. Would he call a male teacher “sweetheart”?
But Simone doesn’t have time to be offended. “I’m going to check the Sink.”
Mr. James laughs. “The Sink is all locked up. She’s not there.”
Fuuuuck!Simone thinks. “Okay, then she really is lost.”
Mr. James runs a shovel-sized hand over his square head. “She’ll turn up,” he says. He winks at Simone—again, so inappropriate—and zips off down the path.
Simone turns to watch him go. It isliterallythat dude’s job to help and… he just doesn’t care. Simone is appalled by his lack of concern. Or should she be heartened?She’ll turn up.
Simone has no choice now but to return to the dance and tell Audre that Charley is missing. She’ll report the interaction with Mr. James as well, though who is she kidding: Men like Mr. James are never held accountable. He’s worked here 114 years and knows all the school’s dirty little secrets.
As Simone pivots to head back to the Teddy, something catchesher eye. There’s a set of cement stairs that leads down into what must be the basement of Classic South, and Simone can see that the basement door is ajar. She stands at the top of the stairs and peers down—definitely ajar. She feels like Nancy fucking Drew, although the very last thing she wants to do right now is play girl detective and descend into the scary basement. She should go get Audre.
But instead, Simone turns on her phone’s flashlight and stomps down the stairs, fueled by annoyance at Mr. James and by her desire to find Charley. (She is Charley’s dorm parent. Even though she was tasked with chaperoning the dance and can’t be two places at once, she somehow knows Charley’s disappearance will be perceived as her fault.)
She yanks the door open and steps into the basement. It’s cavernous and dark, filled with furniture, extra beds and desks. The furnace hums; she sees the hot water tanks and other inner workings of a large residential hall that she can’t identify.
“Charley?” she says. She wanders to the far corner of the basement where there’s a door.A door that leads where?she wonders. This is Edgar Allan Poe shit. She tries the knob, and although it sticks a bit, she’s able to pull it open—and she’s faced with another set of stairs that leads farther underground.
She hears voices. Or is she imagining things?
“Charley?” she says. “Charley, are you down there?”
