Need

  Bryan. I’ve thought about him a lot. His parents came to see me and I told them everything, including how he saved my life. He made a mistake when he got involved with NEED, but to me he’ll always be a hero. Unlike Nate’s brother, Jack.

  “How is Jack?”

  “Screwed. He lied about how he got the phone and the slide board, so my folks aren’t buying the excuses he came up with about helping NEED kidnap me. They’ve taken away his new phone, are selling his car, and he’s no longer allowed to have a computer in his room. Not like that’ll stop him from being idiotic online, but it looks like that’s the route a lot of parents are going around here. Almost no one from school is on social media right now. It feels like everyone dropped off the face of the earth or something.”

  Or something.

  “With the Internet embargo and school still being out, I’ve had a lot of time to think. I’m sorry. I know I said it the other night, but I was more sorry then that you found me out than about what I’d done. This whole thing with being a donor—”

  “It’s okay,” I say, trying to mean it. “It has to be your choice.”

  “I saw your dad outside. You must be thrilled to have him back. But I guess I just want you to know that if DJ has another relapse and he needs someone to save him . . . Well, you saved my life. I’d like the chance to return the favor for someone who really deserves it. I don’t know if my parents will agree, but they’re suddenly listening to me, so maybe.”

  But probably not. Nate wants to do the right thing, but he’s still scared and he’s using his parents as an excuse. However, I realize that I meant what I said. It has to be his choice. He doesn’t know about my mother’s affair, or the potential donor from DJ’s dad’s side, and I’m not going to tell him. And I realize that while I forgive Nate, I no longer trust him. That will take more time.

  “Have you brought flowers to Sydney?” I ask so we don’t have to talk about my father or DJ anymore. “After all, he’s technically the one who saved your life.”

  “I tried yesterday. Well, not flowers, because people will talk, but I went by his house with a cake my mother insisted on baking.” He smiles. Nate’s mom is legendary for her lack of cooking skills. She burns pans on a consistent basis.

  “Did he like the cake?” I ask with a grin.

  “He wasn’t there. He left town.”

  “What? Why? Is he okay?” I remember the way he watched the barn before it exploded and the way he calmly took charge of calling 911.

  “I guess he’s fine.” Nate sits down on the edge of the bed. “Sydney’s parents said they woke up yesterday morning and found a note on the table. It said something about him taking a computer job out of town and how the events of the past few days had shown him that you have to seize an opportunity when it presents itself.”

  A computer job?

  “But he’s not out of high school yet.”

  “I guess that doesn’t matter if you have skill,” Nate says. “And Sydney has a lot of skill. Probably as much as the person who put NEED together in the first place.”

  I frown and remember the way Sydney said that he wasn’t a hero. Even though he was. Sydney said he was supposed to deliver Nate to NEED but decided to find out what NEED intended to do with him before completing the job. When he heard Dr. Jain talking to me about NEED and how it was responsible for so many deaths, he realized he couldn’t do it. I accepted that then, but suddenly none of that makes sense, and I feel ill as I think of something that does.

  “Wait a minute.” I flip open the lid on my laptop and type in my password.

  “What’s wrong?” Nate asks, coming over to the front of the bed so he can see what I’m doing.

  “Dr. Jain was in charge of NEED,” I say as I type. “But could she really have done it alone?”

  “Well, she must have had people who helped her develop the program.”

  “Yeah, but they’re in Washington, D.C., or somewhere out east.” Officer Shepens has searched for anyone in hotels near here who knew her and interviewed her neighbors to see if she had visitors. So far he’s come up empty. And with the government denying any responsibility, I doubt he’ll be able to share any information even if he finds it. “Wouldn’t she have needed help here to do some of the basic tech stuff like approving email addresses and verifying NEED fulfillment request completions? There were so many so fast. And what about all the things that had to be delivered to people’s houses. Could she really have done it all herself?”

  Dr. Jain said I was the only personality type who made choices that she couldn’t predict. For days, I’ve felt lucky that Dr. Jain misjudged Sydney, too. That she thought he could sacrifice Nate and kill me when he wasn’t able to do either. But what if she wasn’t wrong? I never questioned why she would have given Sydney the address to the location where she ran NEED. After all, someone had to deliver Nate. But in accordance with her “rules,” she didn’t insert herself into the data. She wouldn’t have killed Sydney herself to protect her secret. But there was no secret to protect if he already knew it. If he had been recruited to be part of the team. If he had already proven himself loyal. Until he saw an opportunity and seized it.

  “What are you doing?” Nate asks.

  “Checking on NEED.” I’ve looked every day and have gotten the same error message, but I want to see if anything has changed. I assumed Dr. Jain nuked the website the same way she blew up the barn. But what if she didn’t do either?

  I click on the link and an error message appears.

  THE SITE YOU ARE SEARCHING FOR IS NO LONGER AVAILABLE.

  I stare at the message for a long time, hoping that Dr. Jain deleted the site. That I’m wrong. That NEED really is gone for good. But even as I explain my suspicions to Nate and he assures me that NEED won’t come back, I can’t help but wonder.

  What if it does?

  CONGRATULATIONS. YOU HAVE BEEN INVITED TO NEED—THE NEWEST, INVITATION-ONLY SOCIAL MEDIA SITE FOR NORWAY HIGH SCHOOL STUDENTS. JOIN YOUR FRIENDS IN DISCOVERING HOW MUCH BETTER LIFE CAN BE WHEN YOU ARE PRESENTED WITH AN ANONYMOUS WAY TO EXPRESS YOUR THOUGHTS AND ARE GIVEN THE TOOLS TO GET THE THINGS YOU NEED.

  WHAT DO YOU NEED?

  Acknowledgments

  NOTHING THAT I DO would be possible without the support of my family. Topping the list are my husband, Andy, and my son, Max, who put up with me every day, and my awesome mother (and champion assistant), who reminds me that I need to sleep at some point. Thank you to the rest of my family and friends, who always cheer me on and make me believe that all things are possible. I love you so much.

  To my agent, Stacia Decker—you are never allowed to quit this job or move to Tibet in order to search out the meaning of life. If you do, I’m going to come find you. Your belief in me means more than I can ever adequately express. I am so lucky to have you in my corner. I’m also very lucky to have the entire team at Donald Maass Literary on my side. To Amy, Jennifer, Jen, Katie, Cameron, Charlie, and Don—thank you so much for your support.

  To the wonderful team at Houghton Mifflin Harcourt for Young Readers—you are the best! Everything I write is made so much better by the amazing and tireless Margaret Raymo. I am beyond fortunate to work with such an incredible editor. I also would like to extend a huge hug of gratitude to my publisher, Betsy Groban, who makes me and every other author at HMH feel so special. To Rachel Wasdyke, public relations executive extraordinaire—you rock! Also, I would be remiss if I didn’t give shout-outs to Candace Finn, Linda Magram, Lisa DiSarro, Taylor Foley, Emily Cervone, Meredith Wilson, Joan Lee, Carol Chu, and so many others who work tirelessly to champion my books. Much love to you all.

  I also owe a special thank-you to Pete Bohan, who is not only an amazing marketing guy, but a great friend. Also, many thanks to the amazing Becky Anderson and her team at Anderson’s Bookshop, Robert McDonald and the entire team at the Book Stall, and every bookseller and librarian who has championed my stories. This journey would be impossible without you.

  Last, bu
t most important: To each and every reader, thank you from the bottom of my heart. Each time you pick up a book, you make dreams come true.

  Chapter 1

  GRADUATION DAY.

  I can hardly stand still as my mother straightens my celebratory red tunic and tucks a strand of light brown hair behind my ear. Finally she turns me and I look in the reflector on our living area wall. Red. I’m wearing red. No more pink. I am an adult. Seeing evidence of that tickles my stomach.

  “Are you ready, Cia?” my mother asks. She too is wearing red, although her dress is made of a gossamer fabric that drapes to the floor in soft swirls. Next to her, my sleeveless dress and leather boots look childish, but that’s okay. I have time to grow into my adult status. I’m young for it at sixteen. The youngest by far in my class.

  I take one last look in the reflector and hope that today is not the end of my education, but I have no control over that. Only a dream that my name will be called for The Testing. Swallowing hard, I nod. “Let’s go.”

  Graduation is held in the colony square among the stalls filled with baked goods and fresh milk because the school isn’t large enough to hold all the people who will attend. The entire colony attends graduation, which only makes sense since everyone in the colony is related to at least one of the students crossing over to adulthood or celebrating their promotion to the next grade. This year is the largest graduating class the Five Lakes Colony has had. Eight boys, six girls. A clear sign the colony is thriving.

  My father and four brothers, all dressed in ceremonial adult purple, are waiting for us outside our dwelling. My oldest brother, Zeen, shoots me a smile and ruffles my hair. “Are you ready to be done with school and get out into the real world with the rest of us slobs?”

  My mother frowns.

  I laugh.

  Zeen and my other brothers are definitely not slobs. In fact, girls practically throw themselves at them. But while my brothers aren’t immune to flirting, none of them seems interested in settling down. They’re more interested in creating the next hybrid tomato plant than starting a family. Zeen most of all. He’s tall, blond, and smart. Very, very smart. And yet he never got chosen for The Testing. The thought takes away the shine from the day. Perhaps that’s the first rule I will learn as an adult—that you can’t always get what you want. Zeen must have wanted to continue on to the University—to follow in Dad’s footsteps. He must know what I’m feeling. For a moment, I wish I could talk to him. Ask him how he got through the disappointment that most likely is awaiting me. Our colony will be lucky to have one student chosen for The Testing—if any at all. It has been ten years since the last student from Five Lakes was chosen. I’m good at school, but there are those who are better. Much better. What chance do I have?

  With a forced smile, I say, “You bet. I can’t stay in school if I plan on running the colony by the time all of you are married.”

  Hart and Win blush. They are two years older than me and the idea of marriage and dating makes them run for cover. The two of them are happy working side by side in the nursery, growing the flowers and trees Dad has created to withstand the corrupted earth at the outskirts of the colony.

  “No one will be doing much of anything if we don’t get moving.” Mother’s voice is sharp as she heads off down the path. My brothers and father quickly follow. Zeen’s and Hamin’s lack of marriage prospects is a sore spot for our mother.

  Because of Dad’s job, our house is farther from the center of the colony than most. My brothers and father have made the ground around our small house bloom green with plants and trees, but a hundred feet past our front door the earth is cracked and brittle. Though some grass and a few scraggly trees do grow. Dad tells me the earth to our west is far worse, which is why our leaders decided to place the Five Lakes Colony here.

  Usually, I ride my bicycle to town. A couple of citizens own cars, but fuel and solar cells big enough to run them are too precious for everyday use. Today, I trail behind my family as we walk the almost five miles to the colony’s community square.

  Square is really the wrong word, but we use it anyway. It’s shaped more like a turtle with an oval center and some appendages to the sides. There is a beautiful fountain in the middle that sprays clear, sparkling water into the air. The fountain is a luxury since clean water is not always easy to come by. But we are allowed the waste and the beauty in order to honor the man who discovered how to remove the contamination from the lakes and ponds after Stage Seven. What is left of the oceans is harder to clean.

  The ground becomes greener and birds sing the closer we get to the center of the colony. Mom doesn’t talk much on the way. Zeen teases her that she doesn’t want me to grow up, but I don’t think that’s the case.

  Or maybe it is.

  Mom and I get along fine, but the past couple of years she has seemed distant. Less willing to help me with my homework. More interested in getting the boys married and talking about where I will apprentice when I finish school. Any discussion of me being selected for The Testing is not welcome. So, I talk to her less and less and to my father more and more. He doesn’t change the subject when I speak about going further in my education, although he doesn’t actively encourage me. He doesn’t want to see me disappointed, I guess.

  The sun is hot and sweat drips down my back as we trek up the final hill. The sounds of music and laughter from just out of sight have me quickening my step. Just before we reach the top, Dad puts his arm around me and asks me to wait while the others go on ahead.

  The excitement over the hill pulls at me, but I stay put and ask, “Is something wrong?” His eyes are filled with shadows even though his smile is bright.

  “Nothing is wrong,” he says. “I just wanted a moment with my little girl before things get too crazy. Everything changes the minute we go over that hill.”

  “I know.”

  “Are you nervous?”

  “Kind of.” Excitement, fear, and other emotions swirl inside me, making it hard to tell what I’m really feeling. “It’s weird not knowing what I’m going to do when I get up tomorrow.” Most of my classmates have made choices about their future. They know where they will apprentice or if they will move to another colony to find work. Some even know who they are going to marry. I know none of these things, although my father has made it clear I can work with him and my brothers if I choose. The option seems bleak at best since my thumb is anything but green. The last time I helped my father I almost destroyed the sunflower seedling he’d spent months creating. Mechanical things I fix. Plants I kill.

  “You’re going to get up and face whatever comes. I’ll be proud of you no matter what today brings.”

  “Even if I don’t get accepted for The Testing?”

  “Especially if you don’t get accepted for The Testing.” He smiles and gently pokes me in the belly. When I was little, that never failed to send me into fits of laughter. Today it still makes me grin. It’s nice to know some things never change, even though I doubt my father’s teasing words.

  Dad went to the University. That’s where he learned to genetically alter plants and trees to survive in the blighted soil. He doesn’t talk about it much, or the colony he grew up in, probably because he doesn’t want us to feel pressured by his success. But I do.

  “You think I won’t get accepted.”

  My father frowns. “I think you’re smarter than you give yourself credit for. You never know who the search committee might pick or why. Five of us from my grade were selected and tested. The other four always did better in class, but I was the only one who made it to the University. The Testing isn’t always fair, and it isn’t always right.”

  “But you’re not sorry you went. Look at the amazing things you do every day because of it.” The trees next to us are filled with blooms promising apples in the months to come. Bushes of wild blackberries grow next to daisies and other flowers I never learned the names of but know Dad was a part of creating. When I was small, these things didn’t exist. At le
ast not the healthy versions dotting the hills today. Even now I can remember the empty ache of going to bed hungry. Food had been scarce as Dad worked with farmers to make things grow. And they had. In Five Lakes Colony, we are careful not to waste, but hunger is no longer our primary concern. My father is the reason why.

  “I can’t be sorry about something I had no choice in.” His eyes go far away as the birds chirp around us. Finally, he smiles, although his eyes never clear of whatever memories are capturing his attention. “Besides, I wouldn’t have moved here and met your mother if I hadn’t gone to the University. Then where would I be?”

  “Probably living at home with your parents and making your mother worry that you’ll never get serious about your future.”

  The clouds disappear from their depths and his eyes twinkle as he ruffles my hair. “Sounds like a fate worse than death.” Which is what my mother makes it sound like every time she tells Zeen that life is passing him by. “Come on. Your mother is going to sound the alarm if we don’t get moving. I just want you to remember one thing. I believe in you. No matter what.”

  Arm in arm we start up and over the hill to join the festivities. I smile, but deep in my heart I worry that Dad has always expected me to fall short of his achievements. That I will disappoint—no matter what.

  Because the colony is spread out over many miles, this is the one guaranteed occasion every year when the entire population of Five Lakes gathers together. Once in a while we all congregate when there is a message from our country’s leaders that needs to be delivered to everyone, but those occasions are rare. At just over nine hundred citizens, our colony is one of the smallest and farthest from Tosu City, where the United Commonwealth government is based. We don’t rank much attention, which is fine by most of us. We do well on our own. Outsiders aren’t shunned, but they aren’t exactly embraced with open arms. They have to convince us they belong.