by Claire Vale
19
WE ARE NOT pardoned for the rest of the day. We are given lunch, though, despite not completely filling the trolley in the morning shift. I tell Olly everything that happened before the medical transport arrived to collect June and after that, he doesn’t say another word all afternoon. He avoids looking me in the eye. Good! I don’t want to be some kind of battering ram between him and June.
The day eventually ends and I want nothing more than to shower the stains away and curl into bed. So I do. I don’t have to explain my quick goodnight to Gabe, he understands. He gives me a tight hug and whispers against my cheek, “I’ll ask Jessie to wrap some food up for you in case you’re hungry later.”
“I love you,” I whisper back against his jaw.
We’re ghosts, wisps of breath passing by each other in the fading light of sunset. But I know we’ll be good. If anyone can make me solid again, it’s Gabe.
That night, I allow myself to think of my dad, to think of home—something I’ve managed to avoid until now. I’m not the only one. I can’t read everyone else’s minds, but no one talks about it.
For me, it’s a natural progression of how I’ve lived my life, not dwelling on the details of the Tithe. Hard to ignore the details now, but I’ve still managed to pretend this isn’t going to end, that ten of us aren’t going home. That’s why I try not to think of Dad, because then I’m forced into one or another perspective of how to miss him. Am I counting down the days until I see him again? Or have we already said our last goodbyes.
But tonight I need the comfort, so I slip into a dreamlike state where he welcomes me home with tears of joy brimming in his eyes. The sappy reunion doesn’t last long, not even in my head. Crisis over, he’ll revert to his usual self, distracted and lost, and that’s exactly how I want it, my life reset to some version of normal.
The next two days pass in a bit of a blur, with some minor hiccups. There are no scheduled events except for FT, which I throw myself into. I jog the full distance to the marker and back, even attempt whatever half hour of exercises Kane inflicts after. It’s cathartic.
Jessie confronts me, hurt that I kept June’s secret from her. We prick at each for one entire morning.
I promised her I wouldn’t say a word, not to anyone.
I’m not anyone!
No, you’re supposed to be one of my closest friends.
Supposed to be? What the hell does that mean?
Nothing. Actually, it means you could try and understand without jumping down my throat.
You try to understand. What if I’d been chained to June when she collapsed?
You weren’t.
But what if I had been?
But you weren’t.
You could have told me.
How would you feel if you told me something in confidence and I went straight to Gabe and blurted it out?
You never told Gabe?
Of course not.
That seems to placate her and by lunch, she’s forgotten why we were fighting.
I haven’t. I don’t feel bad about not telling my friends, but I still feel uneasy about what my silence has done. I still don’t know what I should have done differently. There are no easy answers. That’s what I’m trying to accept.
As I suspected, the guard left a bruised welt on the back of my thighs with his baton. Gabe’s must be worse, so much worse, but he won’t show me. He says it’s nothing and I don’t push. We don’t talk much about the whole hard labor experience. We don’t talk much about anything. He’s gone quiet on me, as if his mind is someplace else, but the rest of him stays closer than ever.
Last night…last night we made out beneath the stars and it was perfect. Not by our deep, blue pool, we didn’t go farther than a fledgling oak just inside the fence. And we didn’t go all the way—that sounds stupid, immature, now that we actually have gone all the way. We didn’t have sex, but we lay in each other’s arms and kissed and gazed into each other’s eyes and I know we’re okay, we just need a little time to process everything that has happened.
Just before suppertime the following evening, Mac knocks on my door with good news. June has been transferred to the clinic in town. They’re keeping her there for now, monitoring her progress, but so far there’s no indication of inflammation or pneumonia in her lungs—and they don’t expect any. She’s going to be fine.
The lethargy lifts from my mood.
Olly joins our table for supper that night. He’s avoided all contact with me since the mines, even eye contact, but now he sends me small smiles and talks about June’s negative prognosis in between bites.
Jessie and Harry are picking off each other’s plate, the rift between them as over as our hard labor ordeal.
But not everyone has recovered, not fully, not yet.
Daniel is a shadow of himself—or so it seems to me. But I’ve always only known the public Daniel, the mischief-stirrer, the fun-maker, the I-don’t-give-a-shit guy who gets me laughing and rolling my eyes and trying nasty brews I know I’m going to regret. That’s all been stripped away and I don’t recognize the serious boy beneath.
Maybe it’s just called growing up, the transition into adulthood that Alderman Keelan spoke about, because it’s not all bad. He stopped chasing Georga (Gabe informed me, I hadn’t been aware of any chase) and lodged his pairing with Lacey. It’s a good match, social-wise, and she’s pretty, and more importantly, she doesn’t put on airs like her friend Grace.
And then there’s Gabe. Tonight’s news has shifted his mood, too, not as far into the light as mine, but I guess I was more invested in June’s outcome than him. Once we’ve eaten, he pulls me by the hand into the rec room for a game of table tennis.
Standing across the shallow net from him, I grin and swat the paddle against my palm. “What do I get if I win?”
“That’s never going to happen.” He cocks a brow at me. “What do I get?”
I throw my arms wide open. “My undying devotion.”
“Pah, already got that.”
“You wish.”
He comes around the table, loops his arms around my waist to bring me close. My face turns up to him, my pulse humming as our lips brush in a tender, barely-there kiss.
He strains away to look at me. “What was that again, about your undying devotion?”
I smile into his blue, blue eyes. “You wish?”
“Hmm…” His mouth comes down on mine again, slanting this way and that, his lips firm, his taste minty from the ice-cream dessert, his bristled jaw lightly scratching my smooth skin, raising all kinds of sensations that travel through my body and curl into my toes.
My hands slip beneath his tee, flatten over the lean muscle of his back.
He strains away again to look at me, to tease me. “Want to change your answer?”
I bite my inner cheek. “Hmm, I’m thinking about it.”
He tilts his head, a chunk of hair falling across one eyebrow. A smile reshapes his strong jaw.
The game has changed. No more kisses until I give in.
He thinks he’s punishing me, but I’m feasting on this moment.
I love how deep the blue in his eyes is, how I can look and look forever.
I love the dark blond bristles that shade his jaw and define the hollows of his cheeks.
I love his firm, full lips, the taste and feel of his mouth on mine.
I love the hard, slightly rough skin on his back beneath my fingertips.
I love how warm he always feels, as if his core temperature is a few degrees higher than mine.
I love—
“Kissing corner’s over there,” Jessie cuts into my lavish feast with a laugh.
“You have the worst timing.” Gabe turns me around in his arms so we can both glare at her.
“Yeah, yeah, pure evil.” She waves Harry over as she speaks. “Doubles? Or, like I said…” She points to some bean bags across the room and we look, tempted.
One of them is already occupied. Daniel and Lacey. N
ot kissing. Lacey is sitting in the bean bag, Daniel on the floor beside her with his back to the room. They’re talking, engaged in what appears to be a serious conversation. Getting to know each other, now that they’re paired to be married. It’s the sensible thing to do and it’s so back-to-front, upside-down, and so un-Daniel.
“You and me,” Gabe says to Harry as he joins us. “We’ll take on the girls.”
“Cool.”
I jab an elbow at Gabe’s stomach. “Thanks for the confidence in me, partner.”
He brushes a kiss along my neck. “This way, I get to look at you.”
“Ooh, you are so good.”
“I have to be. I have big plans for later.”
“Big plans?” I smile like a Cheshire cat, glad he can’t see it.
“You and me,” he says softly, his breath tingling my earlobe. “All night long.”
His voice becomes even quieter, a whisper against my skin. “I want to lie in your arms all through the night, Senna. I want to wake up next to you.”
I turn around in his arms, practically melting to the bone. “I want that, too, Gabe. Soon.”
He smiles into my eyes, so warm, so serious, I actually believe him. “Tonight.”
“How?”
“I told you, I have a plan.”
“Oh, really?”
“Oh, really.”
Well.
And that’s all I can think about for the next few hours. Not surprisingly, Gabe and Harry win three games straight. Chris strolls over to umpire and we switch things up a bit with him and a couple of others, and the evening feels like a breath of fresh air, a change of season, a reason to trust Gabe’s bold plan and throw caution to the wind.
An hour after curfew, midnight, I climb quietly from the top bunk. I don’t straighten the covers. If Rose or Georga wake, they’ll hopefully think I’ve just slipped to the bathroom. I considered telling one of them, but they’re both wildcards.
Gabe is waiting for me outside the dorm. He discovered a while back that the front doors aren’t locked at night—apparently they’re more adventurous in the boy’s dorm than us girls ever thought to be.
We sneak along the shadows of the building, then dash across the open space. Gabe assured me no guards patrol this area, but my heart still pounds madly until we’re inside his dorm, safely inside one of the unused rooms.
The curtain is drawn open, letting in the moonlight. The bedrooms here are similar to ours, sparsely furnished with a pair of bunkbeds, but I see Gabe’s plan extended beyond just getting us here. He’s pulled two mattresses onto the floor, tossed all the pillows on them.
“It’s not perfect,” he says hesitantly.
I smile at him. “It’s perfect.”
He kicks off his shoes and sprawls out over the mattress, arms crossed behind his head. He’s still fully dressed from earlier. I’m wearing the threadbare sweats and camisole I always sleep in. Not exactly sexy, but the way he looks at me, the way his jaw softens and his eyes grow heavy, I feel like I’ve just stepped out of one those New York lingerie stores from a movie.
My stomach hollows into a nest of butterflies. This isn’t my first time, this is Gabe, but I’m nerves and thrills all over again.
He extends a hand to me. “Come here.”
I go to him, crawl into his side.
He rolls me over and folds himself around me, spooning me with his body. His cheek rests on my head, his fingers caressing my arm, his thumb stroking slow circles. “I didn’t bring you here for anything else, just this.”
I close my eyes, giving in to the rare pleasure of just the two of us. I’m cocooned in Gabe, his scent, his heat, his touch, his breaths brushing my temple. My heart swells, and with that comes an ache, a longing for more of him.
Shifting onto my back so I can look up into his eyes, I cup my hands around his neck, fingers curling into his hair.
His thumb traces my lower lip, his gaze sinking into me, absorbing me. “You are so beautiful.”
I’m not beautiful, but in this moment, he makes me believe.
I pull his mouth toward me, lower, lower.
“Senna…” He resists, the slightest tension against my pull, as if he’s not yet ready to stop looking.
Lower…as I slip one leg between his to tangle us. “Gabe…”
The kiss starts off slow, feathered strokes that send tingles down my spine.
His breaths deepen, a ragged, “This isn’t what…” brushed onto my lips and then swallowed as his tongue teases the seam of my mouth open, and it’s like a fire lit and fanned.
He slides over me, hard muscle and hot skin. Our hands go everywhere, touching, devouring, rubbing off each other’s clothes. His kisses cover every inch of my skin until my breaths become soft, desperate moans.
His breaths are mine. The hunger and want bathing me shows in his hooded eyes, in the tension in his jaw. Our bodies are one. There is no place where he begins and where I end.
After, Gabe rolls onto his back, brings me with him to keep us tangled. I drift off to sleep with his heart beating at my cheek.
20
I THOUGHT FALLING asleep in Gabe’s arms was the best feeling in the world. Turns out, waking up beside him is my new favorite. He’s stretched out on his side, hand tucked beneath his cheek, his gaze washing over me as I gain consciousness.
Unfurling into a toe-curling stretch, I smile at him. “How long have you been awake?”
“Not long.” His eyes crease into his smile, and we lie like that for long minutes, the intimacy of last night wrapped around us.
Nothing in my entire life has ever felt as right as this.
I’m exactly where I belong.
His smile slowly fades. Slowly, so slowly, a shadow crosses over his eyes. It’s a dark, pervasive shadow, reaching into me with long fingers. It feels like loss, like he’s watching me slip away and is powerless to stop me.
I think I know what he’s doing.
There’s no other explanation.
He’s playing the what if game we played when we were kids, only it’s nothing like when we were kids. What if this is all we ever get? What if there isn’t a lifetime of tomorrows for us? What if you or me or both of us are Tithed?
I roll over to face him. “Don’t do that.”
He reaches across, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw. “There’s something we need to talk—”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I override, my tone a net of silk and steel cast over his doubts. “Neither are you.”
He bites down on his lip, looking into my eyes, searching for something. I’m not sure he finds it, because he doesn’t sound particularly convinced when he pulls me into his arms, murmurs, “Everything’s going to be okay.”
We lie like that until the last possible moment, until we can no longer ignore the dawn bleeding into the room.
“It’s better if I go alone,” I decide, extracting myself from his delicious warmth. “I’ll slip out the window and go around the back of the building.”
“No way.” Gabe gets to his feet. “I’m seeing you to your room.”
I start to shake my head. “If I get caught—”
“—we get caught together.”
As much as I appreciate the sentiment, I’m not being brave, I’m being sensible. “If anyone sees me, I’ll just say I couldn’t sleep and came out for fresh air, Gabe. If we’re caught together, it looks suspicious.”
There’s no arguing that, but Gabe insists on peeking out the window to make sure my path is clear.
I’m not caught. Rose and Georga are still fast asleep when I crawl back into my bed to wait for the wake-up siren.
There’s no FT scheduled on the whiteboard this morning. Instead, we’re to assemble in the auditorium at eight, straight after breakfast. Alderman Harken enters to stand behind the lectern, no indication that the usual entourage will join him.
My foot tap-taps nervously from the back row. We’re half done, six days left to go. It would be really nice to
get through them without another Alder surprise.
“This is just a quick announcement,” Alderman Harken begins, spreading his hands on the lectern, leaning slightly forward. “As most of you will be aware, your friend, June Callister, suffered a severe asthma attack while serving hard labor at the mines.”
He pauses, his expression grave, his gaze sweeping the room. “She was successfully stabilized in the infirmary here, but has now been transferred to the town clinic. Her health is strong and the doctors are not expecting further complications.”
Even though I’ve heard this all from Mac, the confirmation is welcome. Relief breezes through me all over again.
“After careful consideration,” Alderman Harken continues, “we have withdrawn Ms. Callister from this year’s Tithe.”
My brows shoot up. Does that mean she’s exempted? My next thought is terrible. I hate myself a little for it, but there it is. It isn’t fair. June lied about her asthma in the medical interview, she put her life at risk and she put all that angst and grief on me, and she gets rewarded with a golden pass.
The room breaks into a hum of murmurs and mutterings.
Alderman Harken puts a hand up for silence. “Which does mean, Ms. Callister will participate in next year’s Tithe.”
Oh, okay…another thought occurs to me. Now I really hate myself.
Olly and June will be Tithed in different years. If she were exempt, if she were a widow or a broken pair left over from a previous Tithe, he could still pair with her. But he can’t pair with someone who hasn’t yet gone through their own Tithe. And if he doesn’t pair now, he won’t be there for her next year either.
My eyes pick over the heads lower down, to the left. I don’t see him. I lean forward to peer around Jessie. Olly isn’t in the back row across from us either.
Jessie meets my eye, but Alderman Harken is speaking again. I give a quick shake of my head and lean back.
“There is another concern we need to address today,” he says. “Ms. Callister deliberately withheld vital information about her health, information we would normally take into account when determining suitable sentences and punishments for breaking Alder law. She is a fortunate young lady; the outcome of her asthmatic episode could have been far more serious, and could have been entirely avoided.”