The Maplethorn Initiative (Book 1, The Maplethorn Series)

Hello & Goodbye

"Hold up," Cam said as he and Liam Burke were returning from another long day of sitting on a cold, concrete floor. "I want to see if I have any mail."

"Maybe you got a letter from Pre-tend?" Liam razzed.

Cam dug the mailbox key out of his pocket and inserted it into the small metal door. He was so happy to see the envelope with Prita's squiggly handwriting that Liam's insult sailed right over his head.

Liam added a follow-up comment that was punctuated by the slamming of the stairwell door, but it also failed to register. Whatever Liam may have said, Cam was sure it didn't deserve more than a muffled "yeah" in response.

All incoming mail was opened and searched for contraband, then resealed with a single staple. It was another of the many small humiliations Cam was learning to live with. He popped the staple with one finger and began reading.

Dear Cameron,

I got your latest letter on Tuesday. Thanks for writing to me! I like reading about your new friends. Question, though—everybody sounds way Caucasian. Aren't there any cadets of color at that school? Because if not, I have another project for my mom!

You asked how things are going back here. Mr. Fisher's still a dork. Mr. Leeds, HUGE dork. Pretty much all of my teachers this semester—dork, dork, dork.

Sometimes I wish I could go to private school, but my mom thought going to public school would make me and my brothers more American. Did I ever tell you that? I know, random!

How are your parents doing? I wanted to stop by and talk to your mom but didn't know if it would be weird. I really miss hanging out at your house. Your mom is such a mom, you know? Sometimes I think my mom and dad care more about their jobs than their kids. I love them and all, but it almost feels like my brothers are my real parents. My life is weird.

Let's see, what else? I miss you! Duh. You know that. Or at least you better! I think about you all the time. I was at the mall last weekend and saw a pair of those tragic blue basketball shorts you used to wear 24/7. All of a sudden, it hit me that you can't wear those anymore. You can't go to the mall or eat a slice of pizza, or even do something normal like walk down the street, and I just started bawling. Ugh. It was so girly! Just me in the store hugging a pair of shorts and crying my eyes out.

I also never said "ugh" till I met you.

Before I forget, you asked me to look up Lucas Sheffield and see if I could figure out what happened to him. There's a website where you can search for anyone who's in prison, but he's not on it. The only thing I found online was a story about a Lucas Sheffield who was hit by a drunk driver. All it said was he was fifteen, and his family was from Pennsylvania. Your Lucas wasn't run over by a car, was he?

Okay, Mr. Leeds gave everyone a ton of homework, so I should go do that. I also need to quit telling you about my stupid crying fits before you figure out how girly I am.

And don't forget, every day in rich white-boy prison is another day closer to home! Write back soon.

The letter was signed, "Love, Prita." Cam stopped breathing when he read those two words. "She has to mean it like 'sincerely' or 'take care,'" he thought. "Right?"

When the need for oxygen caught up with him, Cam blew out the breath he'd been holding and refolded the letter. He carefully tucked it back into the envelope and put the envelope inside of a book so it wouldn't wrinkle.

Racing to his room—which was currently empty—Cam dropped onto his bunk, removed Prita's letter from the backpack, and laid it on the blanket beside him. Digging out a notebook and pen, he began his reply.

Hey Prita,

I just got your letter. Yeah, not a lot of diversity at Maplethorn. At least not among the cadets. And thanks for checking out Lucas Sheffield. Keegan (my roommate) thinks Sheffield got sent to juvie, but maybe not? He didn't say anything about a car accident, though.

Keegan and I are starting to be pretty good friends. He's laid back and super smart. Not smart in a geeky way, but more like a, "Soon, my army of killer robots will take over the world!" kind of way. He's cool, though. I'm mostly sure I'll be spared when he unleashes the robots.

Someone told me Keegan was one of those hackers big companies hire to test their security. Supposedly, he found too many bugs in their software, and they threw him in here to keep him quiet. Sounds kind of farfetched to me, but I guess it's possible? That's one of the unwritten rules of this place. No one asks anyone why they're here, but everyone has a theory about everyone else.

And I miss you too! Double duh. I just miss my whole life. I still reach for my phone to text you or to look something up. I miss being able to send you all of my random thoughts as I have them. But we're not allowed to text. The only phones they have here are those old-timey payphones like you see in the movies, and I can only use them to call my parents. Maybe we can plan something where you're at the house next time I call? The computers we use are also straight out of last century. They let you type and save what you typed, but that's it. How is that supposed to prepare anyone for college? Nothing about this place makes any sense.

But you shouldn't cry for me, and not just because you think it's girly! I got myself into this, and I'll get myself through it. I think the hardest part was telling you when I got in trouble. I just knew you were going to hate me. Only you didn't. It's weird, but if Leeds hadn't called the cops, I don't think you and I would have become as close as we did. So, in a way, I'm glad this happened, but in a way, I'm not. You know? I'm probably not making sense. My thoughts are all so scattered since I got here.

Okay, I think that's it for now. Tell your mom, "hi" from me.

Cam's pen hung over the letter as he tried to decide how to sign it. He wanted to write, "Love, Cam," but he was still second-guessing what Prita meant in her letter. Eventually, he just wrote "Cam" and tore the page out of his notebook—taking care to pick off any nibs of paper that hung on from the other side of the perforation. Soon, everything was folded, sealed, stamped, and ready for the dropbox.

Chow was still an hour away, and Keegan wasn't back yet. Cam thought about going down to the dayroom to watch television, but his bed was much too inviting. He wasn't quite tired enough for a nap, so instead, he tore another sheet out of his notebook and folded it into a paper airplane.

Cam drew his arm back, licked his lips, and aimed for Keegan's desk. The airplane nosedived after about three feet. He folded a second configuration that shot toward the ceiling before fluttering to the floor, and then a third that flew in a circle. The room was littered with half a dozen styles of paper airplanes when the door burst open.

"Attention!" a cadet with a red armband shouted, sending Cam scrambling from the bed.

Floor Captain Carver followed the CP into the room with a second CP in tow. "At ease," Carver said reluctantly.

The floor captain was carrying a roll of what appeared to be trash bags. He tore off two of the bags, handing one to each CP. The first CP went to Keegan's closet and began stuffing uniforms into the bag. The second went to Keegan's desk and did the same with everything he found there.

Despite Carver's "at ease," Cam was still rigid. He was desperate to know what was happening but learned not to ask questions when red armbands were involved.

Once the Reds finished, they marched out of the still-open door carrying Keegan's few belongings—even taking his blanket and bed linens.

Carver locked eyes with Cam as he pulled the door closed. Cam could tell the floor captain wasn't happy about the situation, but he also wasn't about to share any details. "Carry on."

Cam scanned the half-empty room, completely stunned by what just happened. It was like Keegan never existed. Unsure of what to do next, he rushed out to find Liam Burke.