One Of The Boys

The chilling November air, the same air that this small town in Virginia was best known for, bit at the tip of Dakota Maxwell’s nose as she hurried down the dense concrete steps of her former school building. The heavy, dark boots that were required for every Midland Preparatory School student caused her to stumble several times. After the two months that she resided in this school, she still wasn’t used to them. She paused only briefly to slip them off, the anger still bubbling in her stomach and now bubbling towards her cheeks.

Shoes in hands, she made it towards her aunt’s stereotypical soccer mom van. Slipping the door open, she fell into the seat, aiming the warm air vents towards her and defrosting her small hands. Breathe in, breathe out. She reminded herself as she closed her eyes. This was all a misunderstanding blown way out of proportion. She believed she could fix it, because in her mind, she could fix anything.

Her aunt’s distant voice snapped Dakota out of her daze. Peering out the cracked window, she watched her aunt’s small form descend the stairs, her posture still apologetic, facing the principal. Groaning, as the pair got closer, Dakota sunk farther into her seat, wanting to disappear from view. Eventually the pair parted, as her aunt slipped into the drivers seat. The two sat in an empty, hanging silence for the former part of the ride before they stopped at a red light. Dakota knew what was coming and quickly began before her aunt could have the chance.

“Listen, I know what you’re going to say, but I told you and Principal Ford the truth. It wasn’t me this time, I promise you.” Dakota began to explain before her aunt cut her off with a tut of the tongue and another of her famous responses.

“I know you may be telling the truth, but look at the evidence, Dakota. This hasn’t been the first time you’ve done something involving activity of this nature.” Aunt Lillian pointed out. Dakota brought her knees up to her chest in the chair as she stared out the window at the passing cars.

“I didn’t do it though. I promise you, I told you I stopped that.” Dakota mumbled back, fighting back the emotions bubbling inside of her. Sure, Dakota could understand why her aunt could assume such a thing though. She’s what most teachers consider to be a “problem child.” She would be the one girl that stole and broke the other students’ crayons in grade school, skip class in middle school, and possibly vandalize property in high school. Though, she would never be stupid enough to leave behind evidence. If she ever was caught, which was hardly ever in comparison to the actually times she did things, it would be because of another meddling student. Though, in this case, there wasn’t anything to be caught doing, considering the fact she didn’t actually do it.

The “it” that they keep referring to is the fact that some one spray painted heavy black paint onto the windows of the principal’s new Camaro. Personally, Dakota thought it was funny, though she would never replicate it. That was just too risky and Dakota was smarter than that. Then again, she wasn’t smart enough to get out of the punishment for this falsely accused act. She couldn’t blame the fault for falling onto her considering her past, but either way, it wasn’t fair.

Her train of thought was once again broken as her aunt pulled into their old Victorian style home, before turning towards Dakota. “Cody, do you not understand the consequences of this? This is the third school in nine months. I’m not sure what you are wanting me to do here.” Aunt Lillian stated, her voice almost pleading. A pang of guilt hit Dakota in the gut before she buried it away.

“We can just move on to the next school.” Dakota stated, knowing that wasn’t possible. This was her last chance, her last option, and her last hope. Dakota avoided eye contact and noiselessly intertwined her fingers, making various shapes of all sorts.

“I’m not sure how to tell you this, Dakota, but I’m done. You haven’t gotten your act together and we’ve run out of school. Until you get yourself together and find your next class, I can’t help you, at least not anymore.” Her aunt said, sliding out of the seat and scurrying up to the house. Dakota’s stomachs froze; she couldn’t be serious, could she?

Dakota quickly hurried out of the car, leaving her heavy shoes behind. She followed her aunt inside the swinging screen door. “Aunt Lillian, you have to be kidding me. You can’t just not send me to school. I need too, and you know that I need too!” Dakota continued, her voice rising towards hysteria and tears budding at the corners of her eyes. “This isn’t fair! I have too!”

Her aunt looked at her with sad eyes, before turning to go into her room, shutting the muted door behind her. Cold ran through Dakota’s veins as she stumbled up the stairs, down the hall, and into her room. Collapsing on the bed, she felt strangely numb. She welcomed the emptiness as she hoped and prayed for a solution. She was determined not to turn out like her mother and she had to find a school. Attempting another hopeless chance of luck, she dragged herself to her computer with any ounce of hope she had left and immediately began pounding in the search engine.

Pages on pages, she found her old schools, the only one within an hour radius of her small town. Then, an unfamiliar name caught her eye. Blue Ridge All Boys Academy.

Her stomach sank at the name ‘all boys’ before her brain kicked into gear. Racking itself, she thought of a plan. She had to get into this school and she had to fool everyone. She had to prove to everyone that she was not like her mother, but most importantly to herself. She had to go to Blue Ridge.

Numbly, Dakota got up and slid the black suitcase into her room, unpacking her previous clothes from Midland and began repacking her next set of clothes. No, not her clothes. Cody’s clothes. From now on, she would be Cody Maxwell, a boy with a secret.