***
The dorm roars to life the next morning, and the room buzzes with high-pitched banter as the girls wake up. Logan still hasn’t replied to my messages. A heavy weight presses down on me, and I want to slip under the covers and stay there for eternity.
However, Jenna has other ideas. “Hey, sleepyhead.” She lands on the corner of my bed. Peeling the comforter back, she inspects me quizzically. “What’s up with you?”
My natural reaction is to say nothing, tell her I’m fine, plant a fake happy smile on my face, and swing my dejected body out of bed. I’m an accomplished autopilot pleasant girl, and I could do that today if I had to. But the need to vent overrides everything, and I spill my guts without further encouragement.
“Okay, so, I’m with you on the whole bizarre thing, because that is fricking weird,” she says, after I’ve finished telling her about Logan and Neve’s mammoth face-off last night and his lack of contact since. “What do you think the deal is with them?”
I chew on my cheek. “I’ve thought of nothing else all night long, and the only logical conclusion I can reach is that they know each other, and there’s some kind of history between them.” It pains me to articulate that, but honestly, it’s the only thing that makes sense. For him to get up and leave like that, and cut me off as he apparently has—despite the things he’s told me to date—doesn’t make any sense unless she meant, or means, something to him. And it’s not that much of a stretch. While they’re from different states, they’re both bullions, and the same age, and who knows how they could have met?
“I hate to say it,” Jenna says, puckering her lips, “but I think you’re right. I mean, they didn’t even speak, right?” She looks to me for affirmation and I nod. “They must know each other well if they can convey their meaning through silent looks alone.”
Something sour twists in my heart, and I curse myself for foolishly believing Logan when he said he didn’t have much experience with girls. Deep down, I knew there was no way that statement was true, yet I persisted in indulging the stupid fantasy. I was right all along. No one like him would ever be interested in someone like me despite the relaxation of the laws. It was more than naïve to allow myself to wallow in the dream: It was destructive on a massive scale.
I figure I have two choices. I can sit around crying my eyes out all day, or I can pick myself up, dust myself off, and focus on the things that actually matter, like the impending journey to Thalassic City. If anything, it’ll be a welcome distraction. If I’d only stuck to my guns from the start, I wouldn’t be in this quagmire right now.
Boys mess with your mind, at the extent of everything else.
From now on, nothing, or no one, is going to distract me from my goals.
***
It’s well into the afternoon, and Logan still hasn’t responded to any of my messages. It’s pretty much all the confirmation I need. Sighing, I attempt to deflect the “woe is me” look from my face.
I’m crouched over the screen, trying to narrow down my options, but I can’t decide between Psychology and Drama. We get to choose three additional modules on top of core subjects, and I’m already dead-set on taking Politics and Government and Business. To be honest, the idea of studying drama raises goose bumps the size of golf balls to the surface of my skin, but it’s exactly what I need to help overcome my aversion to words.
Though the issue isn’t with the actual words—it’s learning to untape my mouth after a lifetime of sealing it shut. And I’m not shy per se; it’s more that I am skilled in the art of silence and evasion. Learning to open up—to release my innermost thoughts and feelings—is the true challenge.
Occupying other characters and performing on a stage in front of an audience should rectify my issues with the spoken word. But I’ve always had a fascination for human nature and the inner workings of the human mind in particular, and I’d love the opportunity to scientifically explore human behavior.
“Reached any decisions yet, Sadie?” Vin asks, materializing alongside me.
“Sort of.”
His attention snaps to the screen. “What’s the dilemma?”
“Drama or Psychology. I can’t make up my mind.”
“I might be able to help with that.” He tows a chair over and sits down. His fingers fly over the keypad. “Here, look.”
The page loads and my eyes scan the screen. THALASSIC CITY DRAMA CLUB – LIVE AUDITIONS.
“Life in Thalassic City is about more than work.” He slouches in the chair. “If you want to fully embrace the experience, then you should have a hobby or two. If you choose the Psychology module, you could then join the Drama Club and indulge your interest that way.”
“You’re like my own personal miracle worker,” I blurt out.
He grins. “Not likely, but I’m glad to help.” He pushes back the chair and stands.
“Vin?” I look up at him. “Why is the government doing all this?”
He sits back down, sliding his chair over to mine. “What do you mean?”
His intense brown eyes study mine. I start counting on my fingers. “They’ve relaxed the laws so we can mix with the other classes, and they’re allowing us to choose how we spend our time in Thalassic City. We’re permitted to have hobbies, and they’re opening up government jobs to some of us.” I lower my voice deliberately. “What I don’t understand is why? I know that they need to find other means of accommodation because the cities are overcrowded and we’re running out of space and resources. But I don’t understand why they’re being so amenable about it all. Maybe I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, but something doesn’t add up about the way they’re conducting this experiment.”
“Can you keep a secret?” He presses his mouth close to my ear. “I’ve wondered the same thing. Whether there’s another motive besides their stated desire to ensure the project is a success.”
“What do you think it is?”
“I’m not sure, but no doubt, all will be revealed in due course.”
He flips his wrist, and I notice the silver coin for the first time. My eyes widen in surprise. I’d assumed all the Adaptation Officers would be bullions. Thinking about it now, it makes absolute sense they are coins considering the middle class provides middle management services to the upper class as well as the usual policing, security, administration, and retail services. I thought the importance of “The Experimento” would dictate closer upper-class supervision, but I guess I was wrong.
Vin notices my observation, and I acknowledge my rudeness. “Sorry,” I stammer, cheeks flaming. “I didn’t mean to stare. I’d assumed you were a bullion.”
“I’m not sure if I should be flattered, or insulted,” he jokes.
I fidget with the collar on my shirt, feeling uncomfortable.
“I’m only teasing. Don’t stress.” He lightly pats my arm. “There actually aren’t that many bullions on the project,” he admits candidly.
“How come?”
An unnamed expression graces his face for a fleeting second. “Another puzzle,” he says cryptically. Standing, he shoves his hands into his pockets. “I know you’ve a lot to think about. I’ll leave you to it. It was nice talking with you.”
His words filter through my brain as I watch him move around the room. The longer I’m here, the more I realize I’m not the only one who has apparent difficulty saying what I mean and meaning what I say.
***
Opting for take-out dinner is a spur of the moment decision; however, I feel I’m left with no choice as soon as I spot Dante and Jenna draped around each other at one of the tables in the kitchen. The way he’s pawing at her makes me want to puke. I don’t know how any of the others can bear to eat in the vicinity of such a disgusting spectacle.
I’m gobsmacked that Jenna has let him back into her life, and I’m at a loss to understand it. The last couple of days she was adamant she wanted nothing more to do with him. Shaking my head in exasperation, I throw a final glance their way. Seriously,
there are closets and beds for that type of conduct.
I do an immediate about-face the minute I reach the library, and I catch a glimpse of Neve’s blonde head hunched over a book. I back out of the room before she notices me.
So, now I’m sitting cross-legged on my bed in the empty dorm, with my take-out dinner on my lap, looking like the world’s biggest loser. My head is cluttered with too much angst, frustration, and helplessness. Logan occupies prime space in my head. I know I’m pathetic, but is it too much to seek an explanation? So I can at least understand what went wrong? Draw closure?
Before I overthink it, I slide the take-out box to the side and whip out my D-pad.
SO: Can you at least explain what I did wrong? I’ll leave you alone then, if that’s what you want.
I’ve finished shoveling the last of my dinner into my mouth when my D-pad pings with his reply. My heart is stuck in my throat as I click on the message icon.
LC: You did nothing wrong. It was me. You were right. I was messing with you, and it seemed like a good time to give up the game. I’d prefer if you didn’t contact me again.
Something splinters irreparably inside me. The tears I’ve been holding at bay let loose like a river bursting its banks. I sob big, fat, ugly tears, and I hate that I’m so weak, that I’ve been reduced to this pitiful version of me.
I reread his message over and over until the words are a hazy mess through my blurry eyes. How can he sound so cold and matter-of-fact after all the romantic endearments that came out of his mouth? Because he was messing with you, and he didn’t mean a word of it. My inner voice is cruel but to the point.
A shrill, piercing noise splinters the air, and I’m adequately distracted. I pop my head into the corridor. Vin is pacing up and down. “Stay put until I understand what’s happening.” The alarm blares and a flashing red light streaks along the corridor.
I duck back into the empty dorm. After a few minutes, the buzzer ceases and my ears give silent thanks. Vin sticks his head around the door confirming it was a false alarm.
With nothing better to do, I rest my head on my pillow and fall asleep.
I wake at ten minutes to midnight in a cruel twist of fate. Unfortunately, my body and mind are still painfully attuned to Logan.
Unable to fall back asleep, my feet gravitate toward the library of their own accord. I try to ignore the sliver of hope I feel: Hope that he might show up at our usual time and I’ll discover the events of the last twenty-four hours were merely a bad dream. My fingers curl around the door tentatively, and my tongue feels fuzzy in my mouth. Stepping into the room, all hope evaporates as I stare out the window at the empty space across from me.
My heart feels like a block of ice as I walk to the row of books. Perhaps I should choose something frivolous or humorous to try to cheer myself up, but I’m drawn to dark, destructive romances, like a moth to a flame. Selecting Gone with the Wind, I settle down on the cushioned seat and start to read.
Angst drips off the pages and writhes in my chest, but I enjoy the rudimentary torture.
A muted thud on the window startles the hell out of me, and I jump in fright. My heart is thundering and liquid fear races through my veins. Bolstering my courage, I face the glass.
Stark soulless eyes stare blankly at me as a pasty, wrinkled, weightless body floats in the water outside. Bobbing against the glass, Odie’s lifeless form strikes a knife of terror straight through me.
I’m vaguely aware of a cacophony of screams echoing all around me.
It takes several moments to realize the screams are coming from me.
CHAPTER 10
Firm hands squeeze my shoulders, and I’m distantly aware of words being spoken in my ear. A blistering pain rips across my cheek, and I surface from my comatose-like state. I massage the spot where the slap hit my skin.
Vin’s concerned face hovers over mine. “I’m sorry I had to do that, Sadie, but you’re in shock and I needed to bring you back to us. Did you see Odie fall?”
“No. I was reading and I heard a bang against the window, and when I looked out, I saw him. Oh, God.” I clamp a hand over my mouth, battling to keep control of my fragile emotions. “He’s really dead, isn’t he?”
“I’m afraid so,” Vin replies gently.
I bury my head in my hands and try to get a grip, conscious of the rising murmurs behind me. If I’m having a total meltdown, I’d rather not do it in front of an audience. I’ve never seen a dead person before, and I’m more freaked out than I’d care to admit. For as long as I live, I don’t think I’ll forget the vacant look in Odie’s eyes.
“Can you take her to the kitchen and stay with her until I finish up?” Vin says over my head.
Someone wraps a multi-colored plaid blanket around me, and I’m drawn into an embrace. Strands of long, blonde hair stick to the moist skin on my face, and I draw back as if stung. Neve looks upset. My first thought is thank God because I was seriously beginning to think she was incapable of demonstrating any normal human emotion.
She starts to lead me out of the room. At the last second, I spin around, as if coerced. My eyes fasten on Logan’s through the window. There’s no mistaking the obvious concern in his eyes. Stupid hope grows wings inside me. But in a split second, it evaporates as I watch him speedily walk away.
Numb to all sensation, I allow Neve to steer me to the kitchen, and I take a seat at one of the vacant tables while she prepares drinks.
Mummifying myself in the blanket is of no use: Nothing can stop the forceful shivering whipping through my body. Cold icy chills replace the warm blood in my veins.
“Jeez, Sadie, your hands are like icicles.” Neve rubs my hands between her own as she takes a seat.
“How do you know Logan?” The words fly out of my mouth with urgency.
Neve’s hands stall and her spine stiffens.
“Don’t even consider denying it. I can tell you two know each other—it’s the only explanation that makes sense—and you are going to fill me in.”
“You’re making a big deal out of nothing.” She pulls away from me, clasping her hands in her lap.
“I think I’ll be the judge of that.” My hands curl around the mug of sweet tea, and the heat starts to thaw out my frozen joints.
Neve refuses to look at me and my frustration is mounting.
“I thought we were friends?”
Her head whips around. “We are.”
“Friends are honest with each other.” I incline my head toward her, beseeching her with my eyes. While I understand I might not like what she has to say, it’s better than being completely in the dark.
“Look.” She releases a defeated sigh. “I know him, and he’s not a good guy for you. Trust me on that.”
My eyes and lips narrow in unison. “What does that mean? That he’s not a good guy for me?” My face is on fire, rage infusing my cells.
“Cool your jets,” she says flippantly.
The strength of my emotion startles me. “Don’t you dare patronize me!” I jump up and the blanket tumbles to the tiled floor. While one side of me is shocked at my behavior, another part gleefully encourages me to continue.
“You’re blowing this out of proportion!” she roars and I flinch.
I wonder if she has a split personality because her ability to switch from casual indifference to hotheaded anger happens faster than I could snap my fingers. A tiny internal voice urges caution, and I rein in my anger. Plopping back down on the chair, I bend over and scoop up the blanket, nestling into its protective cocoon. “Tell me what’s going on. Please.”
She clearly spots something in my eyes because she takes pity on me at last. “You remember I told you that my family had powerful connections and we had to use those to our advantage?”
I nod, not liking where I sense this might be going.
She folds her arms across her chest. “Logan’s family is even more powerful, and you don’t want to get tangled up in that. Besides, he isn’t a free agent and he shoul
d’ve told you that.”
“What?” I’m sure my face looks as crestfallen as I sound.
“He’s already in a relationship, Sadie, and he shouldn’t have started anything with you because his future is pretty much already mapped out. There’s no room for you in any of that.”
I shouldn’t be surprised, really, I shouldn’t. But her verification that everything he said to me was a lie slaps me in the face like a wet fish, and a half-laugh half-cry chokes out of my mouth. I slouch in my chair. I so want this day to be over.
“If it’s any consolation, I think he actually did like you.”
“It’s not.” An awful thought rises to the forefront of my mind. “Oh my God, it’s you, isn’t it? He’s in a relationship with you!”
Neve takes one look at my face and busts out laughing. She laughs so hard tears roll down her cheeks. I glare at her. I know I should leave, but I’m not budging until she responds to my statement.
Once composed, she maneuvers her chair closer to mine and tries to take my hand.
“You have some serious mental issues, and I honestly can’t figure you out,” I say.
The corner of her mouth twitches.
“Neve.” I inject as much venom into that one word as I can. My jaw clenches painfully.
“Fine, fine.” She waves her hands dismissively in the air. “No, it’s not me. That’s utterly preposterous.” She looks at me as if I’m crazy.
I’m tempted to probe further, to find out if she knows who the mystery girl is, but what’s the point in torturing myself? She’s told me what I needed to hear.
Now all I need to work out is how to eject that rat-bastard from my mind.
***
I emerge from the dorm sometime after noon the next day, after another night of fretful sleep. I can’t erase the image of Odie from my mind, and I drag myself through the day, barely coherent. A dull pounding has taken up residence in my skull, and despite popping the couple of tablets Vin gave me, the hammering doesn’t let up in the slightest.
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