Rebel

by Lu, Marie

  “Come … with you?” she murmurs.

  I hadn’t thought any of that through at all. But when I speak again, I find myself taking her by her hands and pulling her closer. “Come with me,” I repeat, my voice more eager this time. It’s so obvious now. “You’ve always said you never felt like you belonged in the Undercity—like there was an adventure out there, waiting for you to make it happen. Come to Los Angeles, to the Republic. Please. You could change everything there for the better. You could do everything you’ve ever wanted to do. And I could be there with you, we could…”

  I trail off, too shy to ask her to be with me. But I can see the spark lighting in Pressa’s eyes, that addictive sense of life in her that I’d always admired. Her lips curve up. This is the adventure that had been waiting for her.

  “Okay,” she says quietly, as if to herself, and then breaks into a wide grin. “Okay!”

  Then she throws her uninjured arm around me without warning, hand still clutching the framed flowers, and I find myself hugging her in return, and we’re both laughing at the awkward angle of her one-armed embrace. She feels so good in my arms that I can’t imagine ever letting go.

  On an impulse, I kiss her.

  She leans into me and kisses me back, fully and firmly. It’s the most perfect kiss in the world. I hug her tight. Somewhere around us, I hear whistles, then the workers on the ladder teasing us gently before bursting into friendly laughter. I don’t move away. I just keep my arms around Pressa, holding her tight, feeling sure of our future for the first time, feeling happier than I’ve been in a long time.

  The world shifts, tilts, sometimes collapses. But sometimes, it bends toward you, and everything feels right.

  * * *

  By the time I return home that night, our apartment’s already filled with packing boxes. Daniel is walking around in a restless state, double-checking our things and making sure everything is put away.

  When he sees me, he straightens and tries to hide his anxiety. “Are you ready to go back tomorrow?” he asks me instead.

  I walk over to our couch and plop down on it one last time. “Ready enough,” I reply as he comes over to join me.

  Immediately, he smiles.

  “What?” I say.

  “Something really good happened to you,” he says, studying my face. “It’s Pressa, yeah?”

  I laugh a little. How good it feels to have a brother who can read my emotions again, who knows me. I nod. “Pressa’s going to come to the Republic too. She’s figuring out all the logistics for herself now.”

  Daniel grins at that and nudges my shoulder. “Good,” he says. “I always thought she was meant for more than the Undercity. Glad you’ll have each other.”

  My eyes settle on a small, square box in one of his pockets. “What’s that?” I ask.

  He hesitates, and his smile wavers. He leans his head against the back of the couch and closes his eyes. “It’s nothing. I don’t know.”

  Now it’s my turn to read his mind. It’s that look he gets only when he thinks about June. I wonder if he has an entire life laid out in front of him, if he sees glimmers of her at his side, of him holding her hand. I wonder if he’s afraid of that vision of a life, how easily it could shift depending on the directions that the present will shift him. On how the next few weeks will go.

  “Daniel,” I say gently, so that he turns back to me. “She’s nuts about you. And you’ve been obsessed with her since as far back as I can remember. It’s obvious to everyone.”

  He looks down at his hands. They fidget nervously, the fingers weaving together and then pulling apart. Even now, he can’t seem to bring himself to shake off his past, the feeling that maybe he was never meant to be with someone as high-ranking as June.

  I wonder if we’ll ever fully escape our history. But every step forward takes us to a better place.

  “If you need help with anything related to June,” I add, “you know you have a brother that you can count on.” I shrug a little. “Just in case you had something specific in mind.”

  He looks at me, then smiles a little. There’s hope in his gaze—but even better than that, there’s trust. We may always struggle with our pasts, but we can rest assured that we’ll always have someone else who can pull us forward. In this moment, at least, the fear of going to bed and confronting my nightmares again seems distant.

  “Glad you said it,” he finally answers. “I think I will need your help.”

  DANIEL

  There was a time when my wanted poster was scattered on the JumboTrons all over Los Angeles. It’s still strange to be in the Republic without seeing those ads, to know that I’m not walking down the streets as a criminal anymore. Hell, it’s strange to walk down these streets and know that I’m not going to sleep huddled against an alley wall, that I’m not constantly searching for my next meal.

  Eden and I have been back in the Republic for a little over two weeks. Behind us and across the oceans, Antarctica has begun the first experimental phase of revising its Level system. Although the President doesn’t want to admit it, they’ve incorporated a lot of the changes that Eden had originally put in. Ways for people in the Undercity to redeem themselves, Level exemptions for things like medicine and food and shelter. More freedom and less punishment for what you can say and express.

  They’re small steps, of course, just like the Republic’s progress. All around the world, everyone’s just gradually trying to move forward.

  The streets are still slick tonight from a gentle rain earlier in the afternoon, and the air smells crisp and clean, the breeze cooling my cheeks. I take my time strolling toward the complex where June lives, counting out steps of my own. My fingers brush against a small box tucked in one of my pockets. I haven’t opened it since I packed it away. I’m too afraid to.

  I reach the main entrance of her complex and exchange a familiar nod with the security guard. June and I have had several dates since I arrived. We’ve caught up over quiet dinners in the corners of restaurants and drinks in the dim recesses of her living room, our faces turned out toward the lights of the city. I’ve talked to her every day. She’s told me about how Anden is securing funding for the Republic’s rebuilding. I’ve told her about how quickly Eden has adapted to his internship and life back in the Republic.

  I go over everything I want to say again in my head. Maybe she’ll tell me that I’m rushing things too much. The thought sends a shiver of uncertainty through me as I head up the elevator to her floor. June is a practical person, after all. How long has it been since we were reunited, anyway? Only several months, with a lot of chaos in between.

  * * *

  I reach her door. There, I press her doorbell and then linger for a moment, trying to stop my fidgeting.

  I’m still debating with myself when the door swings open to reveal June.

  The sight of her cuts through the train of nervous questions engulfing my thoughts. Her hair is down to her shoulders tonight, dark and wavy, and she has pinned one side with a delicate floral pin. She’s wearing a pale dress that shimmers slightly in the light. Seeing her in full military gear is always breathtaking, but it’s when she’s like this—off duty, her guard down and smile on, her eyes relaxed—that I find myself barely able to handle how stunning she is. She looks so gorgeous in this moment that I just end up staring at her in disbelief.

  She laughs at me, then takes a step toward me and kisses me once. “Good evening,” she says, raising an eyebrow at me. “Nice to see you too.”

  Does she suspect anything? I smile at her, trying to stay casual, then offer her my arm. “Just so you know,” I say as we start heading back down the hall, “I wasn’t completely overwhelmed at how beautiful you look. That would be stupid.”

  “Right.” She tilts her head at me. “Then why were you staring off into space?”

  “You had a spider in your hair.”

  She laughs again, and I realize that I’ll never get enough of the sound. “Thanks for not telling me,�
� she says.

  We banter as we head out of her complex and into the freshly washed night. I guide her around the puddles still on the sidewalk and watch as the light dances against her hair. Our conversations come more easily now, and somehow, I almost feel like we’ve gone back in time to when we’d first met.

  “You said you found a new café that opened near the train station?” she asks curiously as I lead her down the street. “How come I’ve never heard of this place?”

  I smile a little. “Eden told me about it. I think they just opened their doors today, and haven’t really publicized it. He said it looks perfect for a quiet night.”

  June just frowns and concentrates harder on figuring it out. “I usually know about all the openings in this area. Their permits need to go through a strict check, and if they were able to get it approved, I would have heard and sent someone to inspect it.”

  I sigh at her and laugh. Keeping a secret from June is just as hard as it’s always been. “Just trust me,” I say before she digs too much deeper.

  The train station I take her toward is the same one that I saw her walk by several months ago, for the first time in ten years. I’m quiet as we head through the space. It’s serene right now, the newly paved area empty as no more trains are running here for the night. Patches of grass decorate the gates around the station. The area is dimly lit, only a few streetlights dotting the night.

  The memory of that meeting plays sharply in my mind. Eden walking beside me after his first internship interview, his spirits high as he tells me what he wants to do for the Republic, my hands in my pockets, a smile on my face as I listen to him. The sight of June walking toward me from the opposite side of this walkway. The way I had stopped as she passed me by, how everything about her—her eyes, her walk, the sense of her there—had seized me like a hook. I think of how I’d caught up to her, how we’d introduced ourselves to each other again after so much time apart.

  Hi, I’m Daniel.

  Hi, I’m June.

  Now I’ve taken her back here. I look at her as we walk, a lump forming in my throat. Is she thinking about that moment, too? She’s quiet, and her eyes seem far away.

  Eden should be in position, ready to do his part of my surprise. I glance toward the ledge of the train station’s second floor. He should be up there somewhere. My heart pounds in anticipation.

  It’s now or never.

  Suddenly, as we go, strings of tiny lights illuminate overhead. There are thousands of them strung in arcs along the trees and poles, guiding our way.

  June looks up at them in surprise. A soft gasp escapes her.

  I tighten my hand around hers and pull her forward. As we walk, more strings of lights turn on to guide our path, one round after another, their golden, twinkling glow reflected against the wet sidewalk until it looks like we’re walking through a fairyland.

  June looks at me, the lights gleaming in her eyes. A curious, puzzled smile is on her face. “Is this your doing?” she asks me, nodding up in wonder at the lights.

  I smile and lean down toward her. “Just follow me,” I whisper.

  The lights continue to illuminate for us, one row after another, guiding us toward the end of the walkway, where a small park surrounded by shaded trees sits around the corner. As we reach it, I feel a tremble go through June. Her steps falter for a moment.

  The walkway leading all around the square space is lit with candles. Thousands of tiny fairy lights glow in the trees overhead. Delicate glass orbs hang from the branches, filled with intricate bouquets of dried flowers, and baskets of roses blanket the grass all around us in a breathtaking pattern, their scent sweetening the air.

  I lead her to the center of the space, then turn to face her, my eyes meeting her dark ones. A faint breeze whispers through the leaves. I’m trembling now too, unsure if I’m going to be able to do this.

  “Each memory I have of you, I keep in a treasured place in my heart,” I say. “This place holds one of my favorites. You remember it too, yeah? Where we saw each other again, for the first time in a decade?”

  June’s eyes are wide now, full of love and fear and expectation. “Of course,” she whispers.

  I turn my eyes down for a moment, too shy to hold the gaze between us. My smile edges one side of my mouth up. “I’ve thought about that meeting every day for the past few months. That in this big world, somehow, I found my way back to this city, to this place, and somehow, after everything, the world still chose to put us back in each other’s lives.”

  I turn my eyes back up to hers. “The Republic is a place that holds some of our darkest memories, for both you and me. You’ve been through so much, and so have I. We went through it together, and somehow we emerged from it to be here again, at each other’s sides.”

  She smiles at me. There is a sheen of tears in her eyes now, and within them are a million stars. “Is that why you brought us here?” she murmurs.

  I step closer to her and look down at our intertwined hands. “June,” I whisper hoarsely, “I’m in love with you. I’ve always been, since the first moment I knew you. There’s nothing that feels more right to me than to be by your side. And I realized that I could never get that feeling if I stayed in Antarctica. So I came back to find you.”

  She leans toward me, searching my gaze. “Thank you for coming back,” she whispers.

  I glance up at the twinkling lights. “I wanted to bring you here because I think this place holds my favorite memory of us. Of the fact that we’re still here.” Then I reach into my pocket and pull out a small, polished box. I’d spent so long preparing for this moment, overthinking every second of it—but now, I can only keep going. “I … wanted to bring you here because I’d like to stay here, at your side, no matter what happens. I thought this place might be a good beginning for the next chapter of our lives.” I hesitate, bashful now. “That is, if you’d like to be here with me too.”

  Her hands tremble against mine as I kneel down before her and open the box to show her a ring.

  It’s a clean, silver band studded with tiny, evenly spaced sparkles of diamonds, designed with an intricate twisting pattern reminiscent of the paper clip ring I gave her years ago, and of the one she’d given me. I’d worked with a craftsman on it years ago, had kept it in my possessions in the hopes that one day I’d be able to gift it. It looks like ten lost years aching to be made up for by a lifetime together.

  “A long time ago, I gave you a ring that held my entire heart,” I tell her. “But it represents a past. I want to give you something that is a future. A possibility.”

  June looks at me with eyes full of hope and fear. “And what is that future?” she asks.

  I gather all my courage.

  And I ask her the question I’ve been thinking about for so long, the one that my life has been leading up to since the moment I first met her, when we were still so young, unsure what the next day would bring, clinging to each other in desperation, finding ourselves together, the question that has drawn me back here to her, heart bared, vulnerable, afraid and hopeful.

  “Will you marry me?” I say to her.

  And for an instant, I think I’m dreaming. I’m going to wake up and this is all going to disappear. Or maybe we aren’t meant to be—she will turn away, or she will shake her head, and this particular future will never come to pass.

  But then June’s tears finally spill down her face, and her smile is the brightest light I have ever seen, and she is wrapping her arms around my neck, crying and laughing and shaking, and I am so overwhelmed with joy that for a moment all I can do is embrace her. I take the new ring and slide it onto the finger where she’d once worn a twist of paper clips that represented our history.

  A past. A future. Something that can be ours.

  I realize I’m crying too, because the final puzzle piece of my heart has fallen into place.

  June’s answer drifts up into the night air and echoes across the cityscape, one of millions of things happening in each of our l
ives, the small steps you take that are invisible to everyone else in the world. The steps that, nevertheless, matter the most.

  Yes.

  Always.

  Forever.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  The idea for Rebel first came to me while I was still writing Champion, but it arrived in fragments—a gamified society, an augmented reality, and a pair of brothers healing in the aftermath of a war. I had to write an entirely separate duology (Warcross) before I understood what I wanted for this final story set in Legend’s timeline, and for a while, I didn’t think I’d ever get to it. During all those years, the reason I kept revisiting this idea was because of readers who wanted to know what happened after the end to the original trilogy. So thank you firstly to my wonderful audience. You all always inspire me.

  To Jen Besser, who has been my editor, champion, and friend from the very beginning. I can’t tell you how happy I am that I got to work on all four of the Legend novels with you. You are one in a million.

  To the entire team at Macmillan Children’s who have welcomed me and my stories with so much warmth and enthusiasm. I’m incredibly honored to be working with you all.

  Kristin, I don’t know where I’d be without you. You’re the best agent a writer could hope for, and I’m excited for all the stories we’ll continue to work on together.

  Legend couldn’t have found its legs without the support of so many school librarians and teachers. I am endlessly grateful to you all for bringing my books into your classrooms and libraries, and hearing stories from you about students reading the series is such an honor. Thank you.

  To my wonderful friends, for letting me lean on you as I talked this one out. Tahereh, Leigh, Amie, Dianne, Sabaa, and Renée: I’m so lucky to have you in my life.

  Finally, to Primo, my forever confidante and best friend. Love you, always.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR