The Academy: Book 2 by Chad Leito

seemed oblivious to the tension in the room, and did not hesitate to break the silence. Asa wondered if this was an act she put on, or if she was honestly that confident. If she is honestly that confident, she’s dead. If she’s that good of an actress, she may have a shot.
                  An empty leather seat sat to her right side. To get there, Asa would have to move past half a dozen glaring faces. Worse than that, the person on the other side of the chair looked livid. And strong.
                  That’s got to be the team captain, Asa thought.
                  He was stout and short, with hair that was closer to white than blond. His skin had very little pigment in it, and his jaw moved in a slow, deliberate fashion as he chewed on a piece of gum. His eyes were the shade of blue the ocean becomes once you sail past the continental shelf; there was something unnerving about his eyes.
                  Not wanting to seem weak, Asa proceeded. His footsteps were quiet on the carpet, but still, they could be heard across the room because of the overwhelming silence. He realized that he wasn’t breathing out of fear that it would be too noisy.
                  Asa moved past the first six people without any incident. He passed the back of the tall leather chair that the white-haired male was in. He looked down at the table and saw that at the end of his vein-covered forearms, the supposed captain’s hands were clenched into fists as hard as cement blocks. There was something about the arms that reminded Asa of too-tight springs that were ready to burst.
                  He lifted his fists, and then slammed them down on the table with such a force that Asa was sure he had to be a fourth semester student—his strength gave away the fact that he had to be thoroughly mutated. Everyone watched, transfixed.
                  The white-haired male stood up, knocking his chair over, and Asa took a step back. The top of the male’s head only came up to Asa’s chin, but sometimes presence is more than stature.
                  “Let’s get something straight,” he said. “You don’t get to sit by me, and you damned sure better not give me any trouble.”
                  Internally, Asa felt timid and small. But externally, his eyes were unmoving above his clenched jaw. He knew that looking scared or weak would get him killed. He had known that there would be Winggame confrontations this semester, and he had mentally prepared himself to be tough. He hadn’t thought they would come this early, though. He stared, letting the clock on the wall click off ten seconds. Not a word was said during that time.
                  The white haired youth’s eyes began to shift back and forth in their sockets. His fingers were shaking at the sides of his hips.
                  Asa, however, stood still as a statue.
                  “That’s enough,” said the girl with the bruise on her face. “He can sit where he wants, Stan.”
                  Stan kicked his chair on the floor and moved to another area of the room.
                  Asa pulled back his own chair, and sat down. He wished that his first encounter with the team hadn’t involved aggression, but he didn’t think that he had performed poorly.
                  “My name is Roxanne,” said the girl with the bruise. “I’m your captain, welcome to the Sharks. I’m glad to have you, Asa. Here, catch.”
                  She hurtled a one hundred page paperbound book at Asa and he caught it with one hand in front of his face.
                  “This is now your Bible. Get acquainted with it; shake hands with it, introduce yourself, take it out to dinner and get close with it. It’s got the Academy’s revised rules for Winggame in it, and some plays and strategies in