Rogue Academic Read online

  “Sorry, but we couldn’t afford the tuition,” I said bluntly, finally stepping into the kitchen to grab something to eat. Where was my Crispix?

  “Apply for a scholarship,” he said quickly. The scrape of his seat alerted me to the fact that he was out of his chair, following me in the kitchen.

  “Now, Lara,” my mother said. “It’s uncouth to talk about money -“

  “I’m just being honest,” I said as I opened up the fridge. I glanced over my shoulder at him, still a relatively safe distance away. But he was teetering the line. “And since we can barely keep our heads above water after what happened in South Haven -“

  “Lara,” my mother said.

  “You were affected by what happened in South Haven?” Robert asked, persistent.

  “Lara,” my mother tried again.

  “My dad died,” I said. I snapped the fridge door closed, taking the milk to the sink. “He was the one with the income. My mother can’t work. So, if I want any kind of education -“

  “Why didn’t you apply for the Med Fund?” Robert asked.

  I turned away from the tinkling cereal as it hit the bowl to contort my face into something resembling disbelief. “The Med Fund?”

  “Lannister Industries created a fund for everyone personally involved in the aftermath of what happened,” Robert said, taking a step towards me. The right side of his body leaned against the counter, which was strange since his fancy suit was pressed into a countertop that hadn’t been washed in months. “It helps everyone. Everyone affected qualifies -“

  “Yeah, well, that’s not what I was told when I applied for it three years ago.” I set the cereal on the counter and opened the milk. I didn’t want to talk about this, especially not with him. And not in front of my mother.

  “That’s impossible,” he said. “I specifically -“

  “Look.” I slammed the milk on the counter, causing droplets to shoot up and litter the surface. “That’s what happened. If you said something or the rules said this, I don’t care. I applied. I was rejected. Apparently, we make too much, which is hilarious, because even as a part-time records specialist at the police department, I’m only allowed to work ten hours a week because of some weird rule they have with benefits. So, sure, eighteen fifty is great, but when I’m only working ten hours a week, that’s not enough to get by.”

  There was silence. As calmly as I could, I placed the milk back into the fridge and replaced the cereal in the small pantry. I wouldn’t look at him as I made my way to the table and plopped down in front of my mom.

  “Let me look into this,” he said, walking over to me. “That’s not supposed to happen.”

  I shrugged. “You can do what you want,” I said, scooping up some cereal on my spoon, “but I’d rather not hear about it.”

  Robert dropped into his seat just as I shoved my spoon into my mouth. Placing his arms on the table, he leaned towards me.

  “Is that why you won’t apply for a scholarship to the academy?” he asked.

  I rolled my eyes. Eating my cereal after school was supposed to be cathartic. I still had to look over my paper and I didn’t need Robert Lannister’s voice in my head the whole time, distracting me.

  “What’s your opinion?” Robert turned to my mom when he realized I wasn’t going to answer him with my mouth filled with food. “Do you agree with this decision?”

  My mother sat back. “My daughter is an adult and she’s faced a lot of hardships in her life,” she said slowly. “She makes her decisions and I support her because I trust her.”

  I locked eyes with my mom and gave her an appreciative smile before wiping away some of the milk that dribbled down my chin.

  “What? Her potential -“

  “With all due respect, Mr. Lannister, what do you know about her potential?” my mother asked. I took another bite of my cereal, hiding my smirk behind my spoon as best as I could. This was her no-nonsense, don’t fuck with me voice. “You said you encountered her a few days ago in the lecture hall because she accompanied her best friend to a meeting. That took what, ten minutes? How could you garner anything about her potential in that time?”

  “I’m going to be straight with you, Hilda,” Robert said, using his hands to gesture even more. “I’m pretty good at reading people. Your daughter talked about the trident like she knew it. And unfortunately for her, she was wrong.”

  I blinked. “Wait, what?”

  “I tested what you had to say, just to see,” he said. “The second I decreased the light, the blast force dropped by fifteen percent. So, you’re wrong.”

  My mother shook her head. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I need her at the academy,” he said, turning to face her. “I need her to learn what ninety-nine percent of my students can’t grasp in their heads.” The intensity of his voice increased as he pressed his index finger into his temple to emphasize his point. “Some of my own employees don’t pick up what she does and it’s a travesty that she’s not living up to her potential.”

  I finished the last bite of my cereal slowly.

  “Please. Apply for the scholarship. I will see to it personally that you get accepted, that you get relief for -“

  “I don’t want your pity.” I stood up abruptly to put my bowl in the sink. “And I don’t want your money.”

  “What do you want?” he asked, coming to stand next to me. “Name it.”

  I jerked my head back. “What? Why? Just because I made a snippy comment about your trident?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  I looked at him then. This had to be some kind of joke. Stuff like this only happened in bad fanfiction. Not real life.

  “I don’t -“

  “You stood up to me,” he said. “You weren’t afraid to say something. And you were wrong. But you still said something, and you understood the science behind it, and I think it’s important that we constantly question everything. I need someone to question me because…because what if I’m wrong? I mean, not that that will ever happen, but…?”

  I gave him a long look. For someone as arrogant and as god-like as Robert Lannister was purported to be, I was surprised by his passion.

  I looked at my mom. She gave me one back basically implying that this was my choice to make.

  I sighed. “When do I need to apply for the scholarship?”

  He clapped his hands together, brilliant smile littering his face. “You know I’m never wrong, right?” he asked.

  I rolled my eyes. “Then why do you want me at that school, anyway?”

  “ Because everyone comes so they can go and fight the gods,” Robert said, suddenly serious. “And that’s cool. That’s fine. That’s what everyone wants to do. But no one ever wants to explore the mind, the science behind everything. Everyone wants the glory.”

  “Don’t you?” I asked, arching a brow. “It’s not like you’re hiding your accolades, your successes.”

  “Consider it, okay? The academy needs minds like yours. And you need the academy. Whether you want to admit it or not. It’s the truth.” He handed me something - his card.

  I took it and he turned back to my mom. “Thank you for the tea, Hilda,” he said. My mother started to stand but Robert held out his hand. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll see myself out.” He put his aviators back on as he looked at me again. “And I’ll see you tomorrow, nine am, lecture hall C.”

  And then, he was gone.

  Chapter Three

  I debated with my mother all night.

  I didn’t want to go.

  Everything in me was screaming not to go. To stay safe.

  But I had to. Maybe…maybe I could make a difference in some small way. It was stupid, but I had to try.

  I didn’t have a uniform and, unfortunately, I didn’t have time to go to the on-campus store to pick one up. In fact, I wasn’t sure how that worked - did I tell them I had a scholarship even though I barely applied late last night - early this morning? - and that Robert Lannister was well-aware o
f it and said it was okay? Or did it sound as ridiculous as the way it sounded in my mind?

  As such, I was forced to take a seat in the lecture hall two minutes till nine in my street clothes. I specifically chose a seat in the corner of the room, in the back, hoping not to draw attention to myself. Hell, maybe the students thought I was auditing the class.

  Charley managed to spot me based on a bunch of incessant texts I sent her early this morning. Luckily, we were in the same class and I could go to her if I had any questions. Since it was November, the semester was halfway through. I had no idea how the hell I was even going to keep up.

  “I can’t believe you actually came,” she whispered as she reached into her bag in order to pull out a notebook. “But honestly, I’m glad you’re here.”

  “How was that thing with that dickhole doctor?” I asked. I had my own notebook, already opened and dated. My phone sat on the corner just in case I opted to record the lesson instead. I had a feeling Robert Lannister was prone to talking more than he had to.

  “He refused to entertain my presence and sent me home,” she said with a wrinkle to her nose. “Not that I care. I mean, I do. If Robert wants it, he kind of gets what he wants and I don’t want to get in trouble because of him. I mean, can you believe he insulted my flowers? Rude! You know how obsessed my mom is about them.”

  “Uh, hello!” Robert caught our attention, stopping his own lecture in order to wiggle his fingers in our direction even though we were up high and he was down low. “You ladies have something you want to share with the class?”

  I wished I could melt into my chair. I wished I could fly away like a bird. Everyone turned to look at us. Whatever chance I had at trying to escape scrutiny was gone, thanks to Robert Lannister opening his big, fat mouth.

  “No? Okay, then. Let’s listen in, huh? Today, we’re going to be talking about why the tragedy of South Haven occurred.”

  “Come on,” a girl in the front said. “We know why it occurred. The gods felt like we weren’t doing an adequate job of worshiping them and wanted to punish us for it..”

  “Oh, is that it? Was that the only reason, Bubblegum? No, wrong.” Robert began to stride the length of the class, foregoing any notes he might have had on his podium. “The gods came to earth to exert their power over us.”

  “But…don’t they do that already?” someone asked. “I mean, we have to go to worship, we have to make sacrifices -“

  “You don’t have to do shit,” Robert said. “That’s what I want to impart on you all, you don’t have to do shit.” He swallowed, eyes slowly trailing over his class. “Now, there are only forty of you here, forty of you in my Monday-Wednesday class, which means we have less than a hundred students here. I can throw money at anything in hopes something happens. But I can’t make you think for yourselves. Most of you want to fight on a team, bring down the gods themselves, make the Court of Darkness your bitch, whatever. But we can’t do anything worthwhile until we question why we want to do it and why they want us to do what they want. To know them is to beat them.”

  I couldn’t even record him, couldn’t even scribble his notes. He was captivating, paralyzing everything about me save for the gentle flare of my nostrils as I took in breath. There was passion in his tone, in his dark eyes, something I wasn’t expecting. Maybe it wasn’t fair, but I didn’t take Robert Lannister seriously in the grand scheme of the Godslayers. Sure, he provided the money, the foundation, that this could happen in the first place, but other than that? He was a man who hid around, inventing technology that more often didn’t work. He wasn’t on the frontlines. What was he risking?

  “But…but what about the Sympathizers?” another voice asked, this more tentative than the last two. “Don’t you think that by getting to know your enemy is tantamount to sympathizing with their plight?”

  “Unless you sympathize with a bunch of faceless gods running around in their courts, demanding worship and sacrifice from us and intimidating us, forcing some of us into slavery if we don’t bend the knee as something sympathetic, then no, I’m not concerned,” he said. He spread his arms and took in his students. “I’m going to be honest with you, kids. Fighting ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. There’s a lot more to success than slaying gods, things that are actually much more attainable than almost certain death in battle. Or do you forget we lost one to the gods in the most savage act of brutality I have ever witnessed, even on HBO. Anyone remember Vic?”

  Vic?

  I knew of him.

  The world knew of Vic.

  He was on the first team dispatched to ground level. The one the Prince of Darkness captured and then strung up, wrists and ankles each bound to a different horse. And then, with a snap of his cold fingers…

  I shuddered. I couldn’t think about it.

  I watched it happen. Every single channel on television, even the non-news channels, had access to a live feed. And I was glued to the television, hoping for some glimpse of my father, something that would let me know he was okay.

  I never got that.

  Never saw him.

  But what I did see…

  They tried to revive him. Apparently, it was Dickbag that made the attempt. And failed at it.

  My stomach tumbled and pulled, like trying to knot a rope and failing.

  “He was supposed to be our savior, wasn’t he?” Robert’s voice had dropped, and yet, even from up where I sat, I could hear him clearly. “He was the fastest, the strongest, our best shot at breaking free. At least from beating the Shadowgods from their invasion. But he’s mortal. We all are.”

  “So, what are you saying?” someone else asked. “We should just give up?”

  “Of course not,” he said. “I say we work smarter, not harder.”

  “Easy for you to say.” A scoff. “You get to hide away in your lab, tinkering with your tech. You aren’t there on the front lines.”

  Everyone quieted even more. I leaned forward, trying to see who spoke. A familiar shade of blond hair - the guy I nearly bumped into yesterday. He was the one who spoke.

  Robert’s eyes narrowed. One hand slid into his pocket, the other reached up and grabbed a pen resting behind his ear. He began to click at the top, the sound echoing off the walls.

  “Dalton Rogers,” he said.

  The guy nodded. He didn’t shrink under Robert’s heavy stare the way those that surrounded him wilted like unwatered flowers.

  “Funny, coming from the dean’s son,” Robert continued. “Throw stones all you want, kid. Your house is glass too.”

  “I would fight,” Dalton said.

  “Do you know shit about fighting, or is all of your experience sitting alone in your basement, playing Call of Duty?” he asked. “Funny, we’re not that different, are we?”

  “Your tech failed Vic,” Dalton said. “You and your hubris launched it too soon. And he died because of it.”

  Robert slapped his hand on the podium. “We didn’t have a choice,” he said through clenched teeth.

  I jerked back, surprised by this sudden emotional response. Robert always seemed calm and in control. Until now.

  “You were supposed to protect him,” Dalton continued. “He trusted you. They all did. They all -“

  “It’s not his fault.” The words were out of my mouth before they could stop them. Once again, everyone’s eyes were on me. Everyone was looking at me. Even Charley shifted next to me, clearly unsure where this was going. Hell, I didn’t even know.

  “Who are you?” Dalton asked, furrowing his brow. He had to keep moving his head left and right to get a good look at me because of other students obstructing his view.

  “I…” I swallowed. “Look, everyone at this place depends on his tech. No one could have predicted the invasion, the attack. No one. I don’t think it’s fair that he’s blamed for the death of someone. That isn’t fair. He’s trying to help -“

  “He could fight,” Dalton said.

  “He’s not a fighter,” I said. “Not all
of us are. Not all of us are you. And I get…I get the hubris thing. But to put all this pressure on him when everyone knows he designs his own tech, he tests it out himself, he has no team of researchers, doesn’t seem fair to then assign him as cause of death. Maybe the tech Vic had was in its early stages. Maybe it wasn’t ready. But it might have been worse if they didn’t try everything they could to fight back.”

  “Are you expecting to go to bed with him?” Dalton asked, his nose wrinkled.

  “Get out of my classroom,” Robert said, voice sharp. He was clearly offended by Dalton’s remark.

  I swallowed, trying not to react to it. I could be imagining things, but I swear I saw regret flashing in Dalton’s eyes as he packed up his stuff. Maybe he regretted it. Maybe he didn’t.

  But it was still a shitty thing to say.

  “The reason South Haven was such a tragedy wasn’t because of tech that wasn’t ready or even lack of manpower or access to the right weapons,” I continued, staring at Dalton as he swooped up his backpack. He caught my eyes, pausing on the stairs. I was glad Robert didn’t stop me, didn’t insist he leave immediately. I had been holding this in for so long, I was finally glad I had the opportunity to say it here, of all places. “It was because every team focused on themselves. No one worked as a unit. There was no unifying team. It was a fucking joke. And that’s why Vic died. Because the Shadowgods took advantage of our pride and punished us for it.”

  Silence hung in the air. Charley reached out and placed her hand on my knee, giving me a silent squeeze. This wasn’t the first time she heard my thoughts on South Haven, and, like always, she was the first to lend her support.

  “Class dismissed,” Robert said, breaking the spell. “Ms. Turner, my office at eleven.”

  I stilled. He didn’t seem happy. And judging by his tone, he wasn’t willing to hear arguments. Which meant I had an hour before Robert kicked me out of the academy, rescinding everything he offered a few days ago.

  I had no idea what I was going to tell my mother.