Free Wacko Academy by Faith Wilkins

my head, refusing to accept this.  “No, there has to be a way out.  There always is.  I will help you see your brother again.”
    “You and Dustin are so alike.  No wonder he picked you,” she answered with a strange smile.
    I started to object, but was interrupted by the bell.  Cameron stood up and hurried away with a cheerful “Goodbye.” I picked up my books in frustration.  This whole thing was getting really weird.  And lucky me; I was smack in the middle of it all.  As I hurried off to class, my mind whirled with the new information.  I couldn’t wait to give that boy a piece of my mind.
    Soon it was the end of the day and there was only one class left.  Ironically, the class was beginner’s training.  Who was my teacher, you may ask?  That’s right.  Dustin.  I got dressed in my training suit and headed off to room A109.
    He was sitting cross-legged on a mat, with his eyes closed and his hands resting on his knees.  I quietly tiptoed toward him.  I slowly waved my hand in front of his face.  In one rapid movement his hand shot out, taking a hold of my wrist.  His eyes flew open, a triumphant smile spreading across his face.
    “Nice reflexes,” I muttered.
    Dustin just studied my face, not letting go of my wrist.  We stared at each other for a while, neither of us moving.
    “What’s wrong?” he asked, letting me go.
    I rubbed my wrist, taking a seat next to him.  “So, when were you going to tell me about Cameron?” I purposely kept my voice nonchalant and cool.  
    Dustin sat up stock straight.  “Who told you about her?” I couldn’t help but enjoy the panic in his voice.
    “What does it matter?” I snapped, the coolness gone.  “All that matters is that you lied to me.  Again.”
    He shook his head.  “I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t want to freak you out or anything.  I didn’t want you to think that I would just dump you like that, because I wouldn’t.”
    Crossing my arms, I said, “That still doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell me that my name is the same as your mom’s and that I’m supposed to marry you.  And FYI, we’re not even dating!  What part of ‘stay away from me’ did you not get?”
    He gawked at me.  “You’ve been talking to Cameron, haven’t you?”
    I didn’t answer, continuing to glare at him with one eyebrow raised.
    “Like I said,” he finally choked out, “I didn’t want to freak you out.  Thought it was better if I just didn’t tell you.  Sorry.”
    “You should be,” I grumbled.
    Dustin stood up, holding his hand out for me.  “We need to forget about this for right now and start class.”
    I frowned at his hand.  “What if I don’t want to?”
    “Please?” he coaxed.  “In this class, you get to hit me.”
    That did it.  I was suddenly more than happy to participate.  Though I didn’t let him help me up.  I was more than capable of getting up by myself.  
    We stood facing each other in fighting stances.  According to Dustin, it was best that he find out what I already knew before he taught me anything.  So we bowed to each other once and then ran at each other.
    It was kind of like a dance routine.  Punch, punch, kick.  Upper cut, upper cut, round house.  Spin, back kick, jab.  Front kick, backwards spin, cartwheel, smack.  (That was my idea.) Back flip, jump kick, bow.
    Hands on my hips, I called Dustin a show-off.  He smiled slyly and teased that I was just jealous of his awesome skills.  As if.  With that, we went at it again.  This time, I managed to flip Dustin clear over my shoulder.  Don’t ask how I did it, because to this day I’m still not exactly sure.  It just happened.
    “Whoa.  You’re stronger than I thought,” he panted.
    I shrugged like it was no big deal and helped him up.  We had another go.
    By the end of training, sweat was rolling down our faces like crazy.  The room was silent except for our heavy breathing.
    “Nice job,” he praised.  “I thought