Only Ever Yours

  “It’s none of my business.”

  “I just wanted to taste them. But I couldn’t, not when everyone else was being good. I’m still seven pounds over target weight.”

  I don’t want to do this with her, confiding and telling secrets.

  “It’s none of my business,” I repeat. “But remember what happened to isabel. Ipecac syrup isn’t foolproof.”

  “Oh yeah, isabel.” Her green eyes are wild with sudden fury. “How can I forget isabel?” She dashes her hand against her nose, leaving smudges of jam on her peaches-and-cream complexion.

  “How did she get so lucky? If I put on the amount of weight that she did, you think I’d be ‘fixed up?’ They would send me Underground. Why is she so special?” She comes nearer and nearer to me with each word. The smell of sugar and butter on her breath makes me want to gag.

  “Leave isabel out of this,” I say. “If you’re so worried about your weight, just have some self-control. We all have to. Why should you be any different?”

  “Why are you still defending her, freida?” she asks, her voice tired. “It’s not like she cares that much about you.”

  “I’m going now.”

  She grabs at my top, pulling it down so the lace of my bra is visible. “You won’t tell anyone about this, will you?” she says as I push her off me. “Especially megan. Please don’t tell megan.”

  “I won’t.” I need to get away from her. “I promise.”

  “Thank you.” She covers her messy face with her hands. “I owe you, freida.”

  “How kind of you to grace us with your presence, #630,” chastity-ruth says as I attempt to slip into my seat unseen.

  “I had to go back to the Homemaker room.”

  “Is #727 nearly finished?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. She hasn’t been requested for the next segment anyway.”

  “Obviously.” jessie snickers. “Who would want to be stuck in a cupboard with that fat bitch?” She nudges megan, who, strangely, doesn’t react.

  “And why exactly did you return to the Homemaker room?”

  “I forgot my bag.”

  “Your ability to pay attention to your personal belongings is as dismal as your baking skills.” She sighs. “But you are required here. Mr. Darwin has selected you for today’s session of Heavenly Seventy.” My mouth gapes open in shock. “I know. I was astonished as well. He’s in cupboard #1. Please do not waste any more of his time.”

  I get to my feet, sensing envious eyes burrowing into my skin like lice. I feel as if I’m walking in slow motion, my heart beating so forcefully in my ears I’m deafened. megan. I see her face in an ugly twist. I blink, but when I look at her again she’s waving me on encouragingly. “It’s okay,” she mouths at me. “Go for it.”

  I take a deep breath and open the door to the cupboard. None of this feels real.

  “Hey, freida.”

  “Hey,” I reply, shutting the door firmly behind me. The steel bolt fastens independently, locking us in.

  At last, I’ve made it into one of the cupboards. It’s tall and narrow, made of mirrors from the ceiling to the floor. He’s leaning against the back wall, his baseball cap pulled low again, dozens of Darwins multiplying in the glass around him.

  “All these mirrors. Does every room in the School have to look like a disco ball?” He taps the wall beside him lightly.

  “Is it not like that in the main Zone?” I ask, trying to cover up my nerves, even though I know the answer from watching TV. Why has he asked me? Does he think I’m easy, like the Heavenly Seventy girls? Is he expecting me to have sex with him?

  “No, there’s definitely a mirror shortage in the Zone compared to here,” he says, cracking his knuckles. Is it possible he’s nervous too?

  I can’t believe you wanted to choose me.

  “Of course I wanted to choose you,” he says, pushing himself away from the wall. Did I say that out loud? “Why wouldn’t I have chosen you?”

  “Because of what happened . . . you know . . . in the kitchen . . . what I said about the tablets we have to take.”

  “You girls take tablets for everything. It’s unhealthy,” he says disapprovingly. “I know that’s not your fault,” he says when my face falls, picturing the precious granules squirreled away in the hollow of my necklace. “I know the chastities make you take them.”

  “I heard you had the flu,” I say to change the subject.

  “Did you miss me?” He nudges my shoulder, making me feel a little light-headed as I breathe him in, smelling citrus and mint. I don’t know what to do with my face, or my hands. Where should I stand?

  “Are you worried I’m contagious?” he continues. He takes my hand in his, dwarfing it. Please don’t let my palms be clammy. I’m breathing too fast. Can he hear that I’m breathing too fast?

  “What happened to your eye?”

  “Nothing,” he says, his face darkening.

  “It looks painful.” I peer at it, the swirling shadows drawing me in before I realize how close our faces are. I’m breathing too loudly now, too fast and too loudly. But he doesn’t seem to notice. He leans in, so slowly, oh so slowly, and I want to press pause, remember this feeling for the rest of my life. He closes his eyes so I close mine too and finally it happens, his mouth gentle on mine. He places his hands around my neck, his fingertips grazing my hair. My arms feel awkward so I copy what they do on TV and wrap them around his waist, feeling how lean he is, how prominent his hip bones have become.

  “You’ve lost weight,” I murmur. He laughs, his mouth still pressed against mine. Then he draws back a little, resting his forehead on mine.

  “You’ve gained some,” he says, running his hands down over my waist and hips.

  I pull away, sucking in my stomach. “I’m at target,” I say, his words like a blow to my solar plexus, the word fat fat fat screaming in my head.

  “It’s a good thing. You looked too thin before. You’re so beautiful, freida.”

  He cradles my head in his hands, looking at every inch of my face as if he thinks I’m the prettiest girl in the world. And although I’ve always known that I’ve been designed perfectly, for the first time in my life I almost believe it.

  “Are you going to tell me what happened to your eye?” I say, giddiness bubbling up inside me. I touch my fingertips to the bruise, drawing my hand away as he recoils.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

  “Don’t worry.” He grabs hold of my hands, folding them inside his. “It’s fine.”

  “What happened?”

  “It was my own fault.”

  “Like cassie Carmichael.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “It was my own fault,” he says again, his voice mechanical. We kiss again and again and again, until all I can think of is him.

  The bell blasts, reverberating in the tiny cupboard. How can it be over already? I don’t want it to be over.

  “Let’s do this again.” He reaches over to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear and my stomach swoops. “If you want to, that is.”

  Astonishment silences me. Does he really think I have a choice in the matter? He still has my hand in his, but as the door releases he lets go and we break apart. The other Inheritants cheer at Darwin, Sigmund mock-tackling him, putting him in a headlock.

  “Did you get some? Did you?” he yells, ruffling Darwin’s hair roughly with a clenched fist.

  “The train is waiting to take you back to the main Zone.” chastity-ruth clearly disapproves of this horseplay, but we all know she won’t reprimand them again.

  Darwin straightens up, shoving Sigmund off him, and smoothes down his mussed-up curls. All the men leave, still chatting loudly about their Heavenly Seventy session. Darwin is the last to go, turning just before he’s out of sight to give me a tiny wink. My smile nearly splits my face in two.

  “What’s so funny, #630?”

  “Nothing, chastity-ruth.”

  “The
n I’d advise you to wipe that unsightly grin off your face. It doesn’t improve your appearance.”

  I refuse to let her words hurt me, hugging Darwin’s proclamations of my beauty to my heart like a new-design’s blankie. “You’re far too excitable.” She looks at me in annoyance. “Organized Recreation will take care of that. Please wait here for chastity-anne to arrive.”

  With a swish of her robes she leaves and silence covers the room like a shroud.

  “megan, thanks for—” I begin before liz cuts across me, her eyes flashing angrily.

  “You knew he was megan’s. We all knew it.”

  She and jessie turn away from me, matching black vests over zebra-printed bubble skirts, blond ringlets spilling down their backs. I can’t see megan.

  “But megan said it was okay,” I say feebly, touching the heavy oak of the chastity’s desk to steady myself. “And he chose me. What was I supposed to do?”

  “I saw you flirting with him in the Homemaker room,” gisele says, tucking her gray silk blouse into cut-off shorts.

  “You were practically sitting on top of him during the last Interaction,” a voice calls out. More voices join in, all attacking me. On instinct I turn to isabel, conditioned after all these years to look to her for protection. She is sitting very still, as if she’s fallen asleep sitting up. Who is this stranger? It’s as if someone cut off her face and molded it over a mannequin’s head.

  “megan said it was okay,” I protest. “And even if she didn’t, what was I supposed to do?”

  “She’s right.” megan’s voice rises from the center of the group. “What could she do?”

  “It’s fine.” She’s standing in front of me, a charitable smile playing on her lips. “You can have him,” she says, as if he’s somehow spoiled by the association with me. I bite my tongue, hoping I look grateful.

  “So . . . what happened?” One of the girls breaks, and everyone immediately follows her lead.

  “Did you kiss?”

  “Is he a good kisser? I bet he’s a good kisser.”

  “What happened to his face? Did you ask him?”

  My best friends form a circle around me, throwing questions at me. The Heavenly Seventy girls are standing behind them, the less popular girls making themselves as small as possible in case we notice them and tell them to get lost before they hear any of the gossip. And isabel, her hair tied in a messy top knot, exposing her back in a low-cut navy halter top, is the only one who doesn’t care. I watch her leave, counting every jutting vertebra in her spine.

  “What do you think it will be like?”

  “What?”

  “The first kiss.”

  “I’ll let you know as soon as it happens!” isabel laughed. “I’ll VideoChat you in the middle of it, if you want.”

  And her eyes were shining bright, as if the future was a treasure that she couldn’t wait to hold in her hands.

  “Nothing,” I say. “Nothing happened.”

  “She can’t say with all of you here.” megan looks contemptuously at the outer two circles looping around us. Most of the girls shrug, splinter into smaller groups and start chatting among themselves, but I can see some of them, like cintia and liu and naomi, look stricken. Please let us stay, their faces seem to say, as if they can absorb our popularity simply by being near us.

  “Hello? Give us some privacy!” the twins bark and the stragglers trickle away glumly.

  “So, what happened?” daria asks once they’re gone, as cara, megan, the twins and gisele thrust forward to shield me from eavesdroppers.

  “Nothing.”

  “Come on. You can tell us.”

  “Honestly, nothing happened.”

  They all look unconvinced and I feel as if I’ve failed some vital girl test.

  “Did you ask him about his eye?” cara struggles to keep the conversation going.

  “Not really. He just said that it was his own fault.” I trail off, relieved as chastity-anne arrives and impatiently calls us to line up at her desk.

  “Right.” megan’s voice is bored and she links arms with cara, the two of them approaching chastity-anne’s desk together to get their meds, giggling as they step into the glass elevators on either side of the desk.

  “Here are your meds,” chastity-anne says to me. “Where is isabel, by the way? She should be here.”

  “I don’t know,” I reply. “I don’t know where she is.”

  The plastic test tube is pushed into my hand, my foto burned onto the front of it.

  You’re beautiful, freida.

  The door of my box closes behind me and I roll the tube between my fingers. Today I don’t want to forget.

  Bang bang bang bang.

  chastity-anne’s face peering through the clear glass, her open palm pounding against it. She mimes swallowing the drugs.

  I don’t want to. But I mouth, “Sorry,” at her.

  But I don’t want to.

  But I do as I’m told.

  Chapter 19

  “Sorry, sorry!” chastity-mary skips into the room the next day, her cherubic face dimpling. “I’ve been running late all morning.” She throws her hands up in defeat and promptly trips over her robes. She grabs the edge of the desktop, chuckling as she rearranges her cloak.

  “Where’s chastity-ruth?” cara asks in surprise. chastity-mary is usually assigned to teach the younger eves.

  “Oh dear, you know how busy she is,” chastity-mary says. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me today!”

  “No need to apologize, chastity-mary. We don’t need instruction in this particular area anyway,” angelina says smugly. She has backcombed her hair at the roots and ringed her feline eyes with black kohl. With her leopard-print leotard and pleather shorts, she looks dangerously sexy. The Heavenly Seventy girls have formed a little cluster, all nine of them lining the back of the room. There is a flash of color as they cross and uncross their legs, matching red stilettos on their feet.

  “Speak for yourself. Nice girls wait. Right, freida?” megan is still fishing for information about what happened with me and Darwin.

  “For sure,” I say, plastering a bright smile on my face. She returns to her mirror, and without breaking eye contact with her reflection she applies another layer of lipstick, blowing a kiss at herself.

  “I’m sorry you feel it’s unnecessary, angelina.” chastity-mary beams at us as she sits behind the broad wooden desk. “But it’s part of your program.”

  “What about the future chastities?” liz sniffs openly at agyness. “They’re never going to need to know this stuff.”

  “liz!” chastity-mary gives a high-pitched giggle. “I don’t believe that the thirds have been selected yet.” There is nervous shuffling of feet at this reminder of how precarious our situation is. “Therefore all eves must complete the full program.”

  “Anyway, it’s the chastities who will have to teach sex-ed to future eves in the School, so we have to know what it’s all about,” agyness says, stretching the ends of a faded tartan cardigan over her fingers.

  “That’s correct.”

  “What a chastity’s pet,” liz mutters under her breath, but agyness keeps smiling, seemingly content with the prospect of remaining at the School. megan once told me that happiness is getting exactly what you want, but she thinks it’s only what she wants that counts. She can’t understand that maybe agyness wants to be a chastity, that maybe the Heavenly Seventy girls want to become concubines. The eves I feel sorry for are the cintias, the christys, the lius. You can almost smell their desperation to become companions, effort oozing out of every pore. But they’re not good enough. They’re the backup plan; the ones destined to become second-tier concubines. And that is not what anyone wants.

  And me? What do I want?

  I want security. I want to know exactly what the future holds. And isabel? What is it that she wants?

  I don’t know anymore. Maybe I never did.

  “Shall we begin?” chastity-mary says, tapping the main mi
rror-board and it converts to a large screen. The triquetra appears, pulling apart until there are three separate triangles in a row. The white triangle spins forward first, taking over the entire screen.

  “Welcome to sexual education for companions.”

  The companion is wearing a primrose-yellow prom dress with a sweetheart neckline and a calf-length skirt. Her dark blond hair is cut into a neat bob, just grazing her shoulders. She’s sitting on an antique rocking chair, her legs crossed gracefully at the ankles, white T-bar shoes on her feet.

  “Here is a short introduction of what will be expected of you in your role as a companion.” She covers her mouth with one hand as she coughs, her nails painted a pale pink. “The demands of belonging to this third are many, but the rewards are just wonderful. Naturally I am sure that all of you want to become companions, to enjoy the wonders of supporting your husband and raising healthy sons, but alas only the privileged few will be chosen.”

  A bedroom appears on the screen. It is starkly decorated, the walls a vanilla shade, a large four-poster bed the only furniture. A girl is sitting on the bed. She is younger than the other companion—about seventeen, I would guess. Her hair is loose, falling to her waist in Titian waves. She looks nervous, fidgeting with the broderie anglaise trim of her white nightgown. The door to the room opens and a man enters, his face pixelated to ensure his privacy. He is very tall, stooping to fit through the door, and thin, his navy three-piece suit loose on his body. He doesn’t say anything to the girl, just sits at the edge of the mattress, taking off his clothes and methodically folding them in a pile at the base of the bed. The girl pulls back the bedspread and lies down, covering herself again until all you can see is her ginger hair spilling over the ivory bedding. He lies next to her.

  “The role of the companion is simple,” the first companion’s voice says blandly. “She must follow her husband’s lead at all times. You must always be willing. The more often you lie with your husband, the greater the possibility of conceiving a son to carry on the proud legacy of the Zone.”

  The man’s head is burrowed into the pillow, the companion resting her chin on his shoulder, her hands clutching at the sheets below her. Her eyes are closed, her teeth gritted.