“Yes?” My voice is squeaky. I cough. “Yes.”
“I just wanted you to know I . . .” He stops, taking my arms and pulling me closer, molding his hard body into mine. “I like you, freida. I really like you.”
For a brief moment I feel happiness surging inside me. As we kiss, I whisper his words over and over to myself. I like you, I like you, I like you. Does he like me enough to choose me? Does he like me enough to take me away from all this and make me a Judge’s companion?
This is happening too fast. Why is he saying all these things? It’s too soon.
Why does he like you? There must be something wrong with him if he likes you.
But it isn’t you he likes, is it? It isn’t the real you. If he knew the real you, he would leave. Just like isabel did.
“You okay?” he asks, the words falling from his mouth into mine.
“Of course,” I reply, and I smile, knitting this mask into my skin.
Chapter 23
June
Four weeks until the Ceremony
“Are you in love with him?”
This is my fifth VideoChat with megan in the last forty-five minutes. My elbows are chafing from propping myself up on my bed to talk to her.
“Because if you are in love with him,” she says, “you can tell me. We can fix this. I won’t tell any of the others.”
“I’m not in love with him.” I roll on my side and position the ePad into the crook of my elbow. “Ugh, did you see what miranda was wearing today?”
“Slut-tastic, I know. Now don’t change the subject.”
“I’m not changing the subject.”
“You’re in love with Darwin.”
“I told you, I’m not.”
“If the chastities find out that you’re in love with him, you are going to be in big trouble.”
“The other girls are having sex before marriage and . . .” Her full mouth curves into a gleeful smile and I add hastily, “megan, I’m not in love with him. I was just saying that the Heavenly Seventy girls are obviously having sex with the . . .”
“There are no rules about sex, just guidelines.”
Guidelines I’m still struggling to make sense of. If you want to be a companion, you won’t have sex before marriage. No one wants a girl that puts out before marriage, except that they sometimes do want a girl that puts out before marriage, but only if she’s going to be a concubine. It all depends on what type of girl you are. And we can’t even be sure what type of girl that is until we are told by the men at the Ceremony. Are they making up the “guidelines” as they go along?
“If you’re not in love with him, why are you being so secretive about your Heavenly Seventy sessions?”
“I’m not being secretive.”
“Yes, you are. You’re being just like isabel used to be. Do you want to end up like her?”
Maybe it’s the lack of sleep, maybe it’s the craving for SleepSound or maybe it’s just the reference to isabel, but I don’t think I can take another minute of her.
“I’m exhausted, megan. I’m going to get some sleep.”
“But it’s only 8:30. And I—”
“I’m exhausted,” I interrupt, and her cheeks suck in with annoyance.
“Yes. Better get some sleep. We wouldn’t want a repeat of that unfortunate fainting incident,” she replies nastily. “So embarrassing.”
She ends the chat session, the ePad emitting a low beep. Information is currency in the School, and I’m withholding. I set my chat status to unavailable and place the ePad on the ground beside my bed.
I should call her back. I’ll regret that tomorrow.
I fold the pillow over my head, wondering what would happen if I held it over my mouth, pressed the life out of myself. I could sleep forever. Time passes and passes and I can feel anxiety rising in me like a fever. I shouldn’t have been antagonistic with megan. To lose one best friend is unfortunate; to lose two would be reckless. Who would I sit with at lunch? The thought seems so ridiculous that I burst into laughter, giggles falling into my lap as I stay coiled in a ball, gripping my knees with my arms, trying to keep myself in one piece.
I can’t.
I reach into my bedside locker. Nothing. I threw it all away to please him.
I need something. Anything.
Darwin hates drugs.
He’ll never know.
I climb out, looking left and right, creeping down the corridor. The doors are open as always, but no one sees me, their faces lit by the glow from their ePads, compulsively updating their MyFace statuses to prove they’re alive.
“What do you want?” christy guiltily brushes the crumbs of a half-eaten chocco bar off her sheets. She sits up, pulling her satin kimono tighter around her soft belly.
“SleepSound,” I say. “You owe me, remember?”
Back in my own room, I swallow the tablet. Oh, how I missed you, I missed you. The meds work faster than I remember, shimmering through my system. I lick my lips, feeling every muscle in my body sag into the soft, soft blanket. The twitching thoughts slow down, drifting across my mind like shadows.
I can see Darwin and me, Husband and companion, taking our rightful place in the Euro-Zone society. He in his future role as Judge, me by his side, dispensing smiles like favors to my former sisters. They will have to accept me then.
But I’m not safe yet.
Chapter 24
The morning dawning from the light-lamps is niggling at my eyelids. I rub my eyes, the inside of my head feeling as if it has been coated in glue, and use the hair band digging into my wrist to tie my knotted hair back. Yesterday’s jeans feel as if they have melted through the top layer of my skin, and I tug at them to loosen their grip on my clammy body. I can hear the low buzzing of activity, all the other eves getting ready for the day ahead. I don’t want to get out of bed. I’ve slept for more than ten hours and I’m still exhausted.
In the changing room I tell the PSP to style me however it wants today. I don’t have the energy to put an outfit together myself. The computer screen turns semi-reflective again and I can see the makeup smeared all over my face, smudges of mascara and eyeliner ringing my bloodshot eyes. I skim my cheeks with my fingertips, feeling a crepe of dried sweat laced across them.
I peel off the sticky clothes, shove them into the chute and step into the changing room. The laser burns across my body, tousling my hair into soft waves, painting my lips a punchy neon pink. It’s very pretty, a nice contrast to the outfit that has been selected for me: tight pleather sleeveless waistcoat over black skinny jeans, with buckled shoes so pointy I could use them as a weapon.
“Come on!” freja urges me, eye-wateringly skinny in a violet one-shouldered dress.
“Sorry.” I dash into line, marching to the dining hall for breakfast, mechanically going through the routine. Line. BeBetter buffet. chastity-anne.
“I’ll take my SleepSound today.”
She raises an eyebrow. “I thought you said you didn’t need it anymore.”
I shrug, waiting in silence until she hands over the test tube.
“Hey, girls.” I throw my studded bucket bag at my feet and slide my tray onto the table. Pretending to get something out of my bag, I slip the SleepSound out of the test tube and into my locket, instantly feeling calmer.
“What are you wearing?” cara asks, her voice surprised.
“Not my usual style, I know,” I say, straightening up and lifting the lid to examine today’s lo-carb option. “The PSP chose it.”
“But we were supposed to be matching!” cara says. I look up to see that she, megan, the twins, gisele and daria are dressed in prom dresses with sweetheart necklines, all cinched at the waist and stopping just above the knee.
“Wow. You look like companions,” I say, pulling at the studded black bracelets littering my wrists.
“Well, if the Crimson Crew can be so obvious . . .” jessie gestures at them, two tables away from us, all wearing red-and-black laced corsets tucked into blac
k skinny jeans identical to the pair I have on.
“I tried to tell you about it last night, but you said you were too tired to talk. I didn’t want to bother you.” megan sips her protein shake carefully as not to get any stains on her dress, tangles of pink roses on cream silk. “Anyway, girls, the rest of us look so pretty. Such a good idea!”
Our table looks as if a rainbow vomited on it. cara is in emerald green, gisele in primrose yellow and daria in royal blue. jessie’s dress is lilac polka dots on white silk and liz has white dots on lilac silk. And I’m the black cloud in the middle, threatening rain. megan looks at each of them in turn, bathing them with her undivided attention, before she skims over me, unseeing.
She’s cold with me all day, although it’s nothing so obvious that anyone other than me would notice. If I mentioned it to cara or one of the others, they would tell me not to be silly, that I’m “too sensitive.” But I know. I overcompensate, my voice too loud, too shrill, too much. The others wince as I laugh manically at one of megan’s jokes during dinner.
“It wasn’t that funny,” she says, her body ever so slightly turned away from me, her eyes meeting everyone else’s but mine.
It’s the same all week. There are bursts of laughter that quiet down when I come near. A volley of message alerts beeping, like a round of gunfire, but my eFone remains silent.
“What’s so funny?” I ask as the twins convulse with laughter. We’re waiting for chastity-bernadette to arrive at class. jessie is sitting on liz’s lap, the two sharing a set of earbuds and watching something on liz’s eFone.
“Nothing,” they chorus, liz angling the fone away from me so I can’t see.
“It’s nothing,” cara reassures me. “Just a foto of candy Carmichael after her implants burst. You’re being too sensitive.”
I lie awake every night analyzing what happened that day, wondering if I am being too sensitive.
I asked megan earlier what time it was and she didn’t answer; maybe she didn’t hear. She did say thanks when I admired her sweater . . . but then she threw it in the garbage at lunchtime saying it was “a bit tacky.” She was the only one who didn’t laugh at my chastity-bernadette impression . . . she didn’t even look up from her desk. She walked past without saying hi in the corridor . . . but she said afterward that she didn’t see me. How could she not have seen me? . . . Maybe she didn’t see me . . . But how could she not have seen me?
Around and around I go, until I’m forced to pull my locket open to find a little relief. I try to make sure it is always full now, charming the chastities into giving me an extra half at night, bargaining with christy to give me her SleepSound. I break off a bit of a pill. Just a quarter. Just to help me sleep. To take the edge off.
“I love your dress, jessie,” I say at breakfast the next morning.
“Thanks!” She smiles, pulling the drawstring on her cerise T-shirt dress tighter. “Pink is my favorite color.”
“I thought blue was,” megan cuts in quickly. “Remember last night?”
“Yes!” jessie says, turning away from me. “She looked amazing when she wore that blue shift.”
“No, I preferred the mauve wrap dress she wore for lunch with her friends,” gisele argues, the conversation turning to the newest episode of What kate Did Next that aired the night before.
“Did you all watch it together?” I say in a higher-pitched voice than I intended.
“Yeah.” jessie shrugs. “megan called a conference VideoChat.”
“You never watch What kate Did Next,” liz points out as I bite my lip. “You always say it’s stupid.”
I would have liked to have been asked though. I stir my now cold porridge halfheartedly, listening to yet another conversation where I’m unable to join in.
megan is at her dazzling best, never letting her charm drop for one moment.
“Your eyebrows are the best,” she coos at cara.
“Those sequined shorts are the best,” she tells freja, begging her to borrow them later, “although they probably won’t even fit me. You are so skinny. Jealous!”
“I like your makeup,” she says, sitting on the edge of liu’s desk and peering closely at her face. “But then I really love pale skin, don’t you? It’s the best.”
The next morning everyone has returned to wearing pale makeup, the trend of fake tan and bronzer finished as quickly as it began. And although I keep reminding myself that Darwin prefers my skin tone and that it only matters what men find attractive, I know all I want is for megan to say she thinks I’m pretty. Just once. She is always laughing, always talking, always the center of attention, burning so bright that I feel myself shriveling when she is near.
“megan’s in a good mood,” Isaac says during our Interaction, his beady eyes staring at the flash of skin in her cowl-backed jersey dress. She’s a few seats away from us and I watch as she reaches out a hand to pick at a fleck of dust on Darwin’s shoulder, brushing it away proprietarily.
“Yes,” I say, attempting to smile.
Maybe if I’d worn a different dress, I think that night when sleep eludes me once again. If I had worn something a bit tighter . . . I told the PSP. Why doesn’t it listen to me? Why doesn’t anyone ever listen to me? . . . And I told chastity-hope to get me more of that skin-lightening cream for Beauty Therapy. I don’t care if it will blister . . . If isabel hadn’t . . . I don’t care anyway . . . What was Darwin laughing about? He kept asking if I was “all right,” saying that I seemed in a weird mood . . . Can he tell that I’m taking SleepSound again? I only took it last night because I couldn’t sleep. I’m not going to take any more tonight. I don’t need it . . . I’m not taking more tonight. I’m sure megan looked straight at me when she told liu her pale skin was amazing. I’m not taking it tonight. Am I being overly sensitive? Am I? Am I? Am I?
I creep through the sleeping corridors and shake christy awake. She points at her bedside locker sleepily. I grab the precious meds, replacing them with my kcal blockers. I’m not hungry these days anyway.
“freida!”
I open one eye reluctantly. freja is standing at the cubicle entrance, staring at me. “It’s breakfast time. Why are you still in bed?”
Cursing, I wave at her to go ahead without me. Ten minutes later I’m dressed in a tangerine minidress with a racer back and hurrying to the Nutrition Center as fast as my tan wedge sandals will allow.
Line. Buffet. A futile debate with chastity-anne about the possibility of prescribing me more SleepSound.
I turn and there’s a sea of faces. Where are the girls? Our table is empty. I walk around searching for them, feeling as if everyone in the Nutrition Center is watching me.
“There you are.” I find them at last. “Why aren’t you at our usual table?”
“Felt like a change,” megan says without looking at me, siphoning some of cara’s SlimShake into an empty glass. “Thanks, doll!” She smacks an air-kiss by her cheek.
She, cara, gisele, daria, freja, and the twins are all crammed around the smaller table, bumping elbows with each other as they eat.
“There’s no room left.” I look back at our usual table, still empty. “Maybe we could—”
“Girls!” megan screams over me. “I totally forgot to tell you that I’m in the final six for that competition I entered. Do you remember? The one where I might win a VideoChat styling session with kate?”
“kate herself?” daria says, clutching at megan’s hand in excitement. “No way!”
I shift from one foot to the other, my tray weighing me down, but none of them looks at me so I trudge back to the empty table to eat breakfast alone.
That evening I take two SleepSound tablets as soon as the lights are dimmed for nighttime, but I awake with a start at 3:00 a.m. In the mirrors, the shadows around my eyes look like bruises. There is nothing on TV, nothing new to look at on MyFace, so I just lie there for hours, thinking, thinking, thinking, waiting for the dark to thaw into the morning.
In class the next day, a
nd the day after that, there is no seat left for me in our usual row, no space at our table in the Nutrition Center. I have to sit between cintia and liu, watching christy as she devours her pancakes, her belly folding into rolls beneath her too-tight vest top. I push my tray away, biting my lip so hard I can taste the metallic tang of my blood.
That night I mouth along to the Messages, sleep hiding from me once more.
I have far to go because I need to get better and better.
It’s only three weeks till the Ceremony, I keep telling myself, but then I count the days, the hours, the minutes, and I can’t breathe. I can’t do it. I can’t survive three full weeks of her anger. There isn’t enough medication in the entire Euro-Zone that could block this out.
I loop my arm through megan’s as we walk to our final class of the day. She picks up the pace, pulling away from me.
“Your perfume is too intense,” she says. “It’s giving me a headache.”
“I’m not wearing perfume.”
“That’s your natural smell?” She swallows a smirk. “Sorry.”
I don’t flinch. I’m ready now. I’ll give her whatever she wants.
“I can’t believe you think I’m in love with Darwin.”
She slows at the mention of his name. “Well, you give the impression that you are.” She makes eye contact with me for the first time in days, and I feel dizzy with relief. “But you could tell me, you know. You can trust me.”
“I know I can. You’re my best friend, right?”
Maybe if we both keep saying it, one of us will start to believe it eventually.
“But it’s not love. Darwin and I, well, we talk about stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?”
We take our seats in the classroom, megan sitting to face me, green eyes hungry for information. Just give her what she wants.
“Everything,” I tell her eagerly. “He tells me about life in the Zone. Did you know that people go outside? The Engineers. They have to make sure that the satellites and all that are working. They have to wear protective suits and can only stay out there for short bursts of time. I don’t know; it’s kind of confusing.”