ACADEMY GIRL - Book 2: The Applicant

by Cardaniel

Chapter 1


Amy finished blowdrying her hair and stepped out of her bathroom, feeling refreshed from her post-workout shower. As usual, she examined her nude body critically in the full-length mirror. She compared herself with the hi-res digital pic she'd taken of herself, awkwardly holding the camera out to the side aimed at that same mirror, a month earlier when her exercise equipment had first been delivered.

It does look like my tummy's getting firmer, she told herself, looking back and forth between herself and the picture. Abdominal muscles starting to show. She turned slightly to look at her backside. No sag left in buttocks. Glutes getting firmer. She turned back. Maybe my breasts are a little higher. Hard to tell.

My body doesn't have to be perfect now, she reminded herself. Or even next week at the Academy interview. Three years to get it into perfect shape. Dean Porter will just want to see potential. And commitment. I'll convince him I've got commitment out the wazoo.

She sighed and lay back on her bed, taking a rare moment to relax. She was surprised she wasn't more nervous about the interview. She smiled to herself. Nerves are for people who don't believe in themselves.

She tilted her head back to look at Miranda's head, on the flat shelf topping the headboard of Amy's bed, and rolled over on the bed to see her right side up. Amy gently brushed away a strand of hair that had fallen across Miranda's right eye. "You knew I could do it before I did," she whispered to Miranda. "I won't let you down."

Amy jumped slightly, startled at the knock on her door. She glared at it. "Who?"

Andrew's voice betrayed a slight annoyance. "Who do you think?"

She sighed, shaking her head. Could have been Dad, could have been James. Andrew always thinks he'd the world's only person. "Minute."

She decided Andrew wasn't worth the time it would take to throw on a pair of shorts and a top. She reached into her bathroom for the towel she'd used after her shower and wrapped it around herself, using one hand to hold it closed in front of her breasts. Out of the corner of her eye she automatically examined her bare shoulders in the mirror. They seem bigger, she thought. Maybe broader. I should have measured some things earlier so I could tell.

She unlocked the door and opened it, giving Andrew a sour look. "What do you want?"

Andrew's eyes went wide, his throat showing a visible gulp. He seemed to be flicking his eyes over whatever bare skin was available to be seen. Oh, come on, Andrew, she thought. You've seen lots of girls with nothing on at all. And have I acted like I'm at all interested? "Well?"

"I -- I..."

Amy blinked. Andrew was acting oddly enough lately, but it wasn't at all like him to stammer.

Andrew seemed to gather himself. "I was thinking you ought to get one of those genetic tests. Most people do at your age, you know."

Amy frowned. She knew about the tests, which screened for any known genetic diseases that might be passed along to one's offspring. What she didn't know was why on earth Andrew would care if she had one. She squinted at him, trying to read his expression. "Andrew, of all people who might need one of those tests, I'm at the bottom of the list. You know I'm going to the Hanging Academy. I'm not going to have kids, and I'll be dead in three years." She kept her voice low. She hadn't told her father about the Academy yet. That would be delicate. It was within his rights to forbid her to go. The Academy wouldn't admit any girl against her parents' opposition.

He shook his head. "You don't know you're going there... Amy." It still sounded strange to Amy when he used her actual name, in place of whatever demeaning epithet he'd been about to use. "You haven't even interviewed yet."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, thanks for all the moral support and encouragement. I thought you wanted me to go there!" The only reason she'd told Andrew was that she assumed it would be his fondest wish. She'd be out of his way, a slave, unable to keep any money, or any possessions at all other than a few personal items she could keep in her room at the Academy. All of Dad's money would go to Andrew. Amy had even pointed that out to Andrew, as if he couldn't figure it out himself, promising she wouldn't try to get something out of Dad beforehand and give it away to a worthy charity. Amy had hopes that she might, for whatever it was worth, get some help out of Andrew. So far, his biggest help had been not passing along her plans to Dad.

"I -- Well, I do, yeah. But you have to think about what happens if you don't make it. You'll feel like shit, and you won't want to do anything. You might as well do the test now, especially since it takes a couple of months to get the results. If you don't get in the Academy, then you can get some good news afterwards to cheer you up. You know there's probably nothing wrong with you genetically, and the tests will show that. You can get married, have kids. Life goes on, right?" Andrew seemed to become aware he was babbling. "I'm just thinking about what's best for you."

Amy choked back laughter. "I'll alert the news media to that. Anyway, if I wanted to, I could get married and have babies without the tests. You know they aren't required."

Andrew seemed to hesitate, not quite sure how to go on. Amy was sure Andrew was working hard to avoid giving away his real motives -- successfully, so far, as Amy had no clue where this was all coming from. "Maybe, but lots of guys want to see the results of the tests before they commit. You know, they've got so many women to choose from. They like to feel safe."

Amy tried to find a way in behind the facade by digging deeper. "Andrew, why could you possibly want me to get married?" She didn't bother to mention the obvious: if she did marry, half of dad's money would not only pass out of Andrew's hands, it would, in a sense, leave the family altogether as Amy started a new one with an outsider. That part of the fortune would remain with Amy's husband, forever out of Andrew's control, after Amy was eaten.

Andrew shook his head and repeated, "Look, I'm just thinking about what's best for you."

Amy sighed, seeing she wasn't about to get a straight answer. "Well, I appreciate that. Thanks."

Andrew looked at his watch, and looked relieved at seeing a natural way out of the conversation. "Hey, I've got a date. Anyway, you've got all this free time, now that school's over. Why not just pop into the clinic tomorrow?"

"Okay, okay, fine. If it'll get you off my back, I'll go tomorrow. Now get out of here and let me get some clothes on."

Andrew gave her something of his old smirk, looking at her towel. "You look dressed enough already."

Amy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right." She stepped back to close the door in his face.



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