Genesis Girl

by Jennifer Bardsley

  Then it’s just me alone with Seth.

  “I’m sorry,” I say.

  “For what?” Seth holds my hand in both of his.

  “For being so crazy. For not telling you the truth.”

  “Which time?” A hint of a grin floats across Seth’s face. He leans down and brushes his lips against mine in a chaste kiss.

  I reach for Seth’s collar and pull him in for something better. Our lips part, and our tongues touch. I’m transported to sunshine, orange trees, and happiness.

  “Real or fake?” he whispers when we finally come up for air.

  “Real,” I answer. “Definitely real.”

  The windows are wide open, and all the lights are on. There are about a million doctors and nurses in my hospital room, and almost everyone is filming me. That’s why Beau’s not here too; he’s still camera shy.

  “Are you ready?” Cal asks me.

  “Yes, Cal. Of course, Cal,” I say. Then I laugh at my own joke. I don’t mind that nobody else thinks it’s funny.

  My arm is lying on pillows, ready and waiting for the surgeon to cut off my cuff with a laser. I was the one who wanted the witnesses.

  “Hands up, people,” I say to the crowd. “I want the whole world to see this.”

  “But don’t send it to The Lighthouse,” Seth adds. “Veritas Rex gets first dibs.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” says Cal. He holds up a new chip-watch.

  “What’s that about?” I ask, but they don’t have time to answer.

  The surgeon is ready. He makes measured cuts through the metal. The whole room erupts in cheers when the cuff splits open.

  My tears start when my cuff falls off. They roll down my cheeks, washing away the shame. It’s like a window has opened in my heart, releasing all the pressure. I feel joy again. Joy and pride for being free.

  Joy and pride for being myself.

  My wrist is blank and shriveled. The skin smells funny until the nurse washes it clean with soap. “Do you want this?” She holds up the remnants of my cuff.

  “Yes,” I say, and I think again about Ms. Lydia. I wonder what has happened to her cuff. I wait until everyone is gone but Seth and Cal, so I can ask. But they don’t know.

  Seth has stopped filming and is now furiously typing into the air, uploading his latest post. “Can’t let The Lighthouse beat me to the punch.” he says.

  “I think it’s safe to say The Lighthouse won’t be posting until later.” Cal coughs.

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “Dad’s the newest viral blogger in the family.”

  “It was you?” My eyes open like saucers.

  Cal nods his head. “Lydia was right about me. I was using our private conversations to find out information about the Vestals. Some of it I posted on The Lighthouse and —”

  “Some of it he shared with me, for Veritas Rex.”

  “You were working together?” I can’t believe it. I thought Ms. Lydia and I drove Seth and Cal apart.

  “We figured it was the only way,” says Cal. “That’s why I started things with Lydia. To get more information.”

  “We didn’t think you would ever leave the Vestals of your own accord, unless you knew the truth about them,” says Seth.

  Cal takes a deep breath. “But never, Blanca, never would we have ever done any of this if we thought you would get hurt. And Lydia … I’m so sorry about Lydia.”

  I feel a sharp stab to the heart at the mention of my aunt’s name.

  Cal fights to keep it together, and Seth slaps him on the back a few times. Then Cal pulls his son in for a hug.

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Seth tells his father. “You couldn’t have known she would die.”

  “I made a mess of things.” Cal breaks down and sobs into Seth’s shoulder. “I shouldn’t have tried to control people so much — Blanca or you.”

  “I made mistakes too.” Seth’s voice breaks.

  “If you want to keep your own apartment, that’s fine with me.” Cal steps back from the hug and stares Seth in the eyes. “You’re all grown up, and I accept that.”

  Seth wipes tears off his cheek with the back of his hand. “And you’re right about college. Not earning my degree is something I regret.”

  But my mind is still stuck on my aunt. “Ms. Lydia was using you too,” I say, interrupting their reunion.

  Cal and Seth both nod. “We know,” says Cal. “But we didn’t understand why until now.”

  “It was me. Ms. Lydia was my aunt. She wanted to get close to me. That was why—” But I stop, midsentence. Color drains from Cal’s face and Seth looks awful too. “What’s the matter?” My hand reaches for my shriveled wrist where my cuff used to be.

  Cal is too choked up to explain.

  “Lydia wasn’t your aunt,” Seth finally manages to say. “She was your mother.”

  “What? No, that’s not right. Ms. Lydia was my aunt. Her sister was my mom. I don’t know how it happened, but Barbelo harvested Ms. Lydia’s sister somehow. Barbelo was my father.” I shudder, saying the truth.

  “No, sweetheart,” Cal says, gently. “They’ve done tests. They’ve conducted autopsies. Lydia and Barbelo were both your parents. Lydia was your mother.”

  “No,” I cry. “Just no.” And then I cannot say anything more at all.

  Seth is right about the truth. It hurts, and it digs into you, but once it’s finally out there, it ends up making things better. The truth is worth fighting for. It’s worth sharing with the whole world. So when Seth finally digs up the whole truth a few weeks later, I let him post all of it on Veritas Rex.

  Then I write my own response on The Lighthouse. Cal has given me his password and handed the site over to me. “You can still be a light in a dark world,” he said. “One beacon of light at a time.”

  So this was my first post:

  My name is Blanca McNeal. I grew up an orphan at Tabula Rasa, a school currently under federal investigation. I too was one of the victims of Headmaster Russell’s sadistic tyranny. I too was sterilized at fourteen.

  Unlike so many students whose parents were under the false impression that their children would have a better life, my parents knew better. My birth parents were Barbelo Nemo and his assistant, Lydia.

  My mother, Lydia, was one of the first Tabula Rasa students. When she turned eighteen, my father, Barbelo Nemo, purchased (“harvested”) her innocence. Fourteen years later, Lydia became pregnant, which is also when Barbelo began sterilizing Tabula Rasa students.

  Rather than abort me, Lydia fled. As soon as I was born, she brought me to Headmaster Russell as a new student, so that she could resume her place with my father.

  But as punishment for my mother’s perceived transgressions, Barbelo had already taken Lydia’s sister, Lilith, as an additional companion. For many years, Lilith continued to make commercial appearances. But seven years ago, she vanished. The circumstances of Lilith’s disappearance are only now being investigated.

  To my former Vestal Brethren, I say this: I have chosen to free myself from all the lies that were holding me back. You can too. You have everything you need to achieve happiness.

  Epilogue

  My casts have been off for a few weeks now, and the doctors have finally given me the okay to ride my bike. So Seth and I are heading out to ride along the coast, all the way to the boardwalk. Cal thinks this is a horrible idea, and he’s been trying to talk me out of it all morning.

  “Do you know what they call motorcycles?” he asks me at breakfast. “Organ donors! Why not let Alan take you guys for a drive —”

  “Sorry,” I interrupt. “But I’ve been planning this day for a long time. You’re still going to meet us out for dinner tonight to get that hamburger though, right?”

  “Of course, sweetheart.” Cal throws his napkin on the table. “But I wish you would—”

  “Stay safe,” I say, finishing for him. “I know. But I’ve got good
instincts, remember? I can think for myself.”

  “I realize that. But—”

  “But what?”

  Cal’s fighting back tears. I know it. He doesn’t have my training, so it’s a lot harder for him to stay composed. “I don’t want you to get hurt again,” he says huskily.

  “I won’t.” I reach over to hug him. The tweed of his coat scratches my cheek.

  “And I wish that I could keep you here safe, but I know that I can’t, and I know that—”

  “You can’t keep me locked in my room forever?” I ask, smiling up at him.

  “Yes,” Cal says. “Something like that.” His tanned face reflects warmth.

  “I better get going. I need to grab my jacket.” I’m still wearing all white; it’s a hard habit to break. Fatima and I went shopping the other day, and she bought a bunch of maternity clothes in color, but I couldn’t join in. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and freak out that my cuff is gone. But then I call Seth, and he calms me down again.

  “One more thing,” Cal says, right before I get up to go. “I’ve got a present for you.” He takes a little box out of the pocket of his jacket and hands it to me. It’s black velvet with a red bow.

  “Nobody’s ever given me a present before.” My hand shakes as I reach for the gift.

  “I’m sure this is the first of many.”

  I take off the bow and open up the box. It’s my own chip-watch, entirely in white leather.

  “It’s vintage,” Cal says. “But it still works.”

  I slip the watch on my wrist, not knowing what to say. I was supposed to give Cal his watch back, not the other way around. But Cal’s watch never came back from Nevada.

  “Cal,” I say. “About your chip-watch. I’m sorry, but—”

  “It’s okay.” Cal smiles. “The most important thing to come home from that villa was you.”

  “No,” I say, though I can’t help smiling a little bit. “It’s not only about your watch being lost. Cal, I invaded your privacy. I read all your messages.”

  “And did you have a good reason?”

  “They kept me going,” I say simply.

  “Then you don’t have anything to apologize for.”

  “But your wife,” I say. “Sophia. I even saw her last message to you. ‘But, sweetheart, remember. Remember always—’”

  “‘—that I love you. You are loved.’” Cal says, finishing Sophia’s words for me.

  “It almost felt like —”

  “Like what?”

  “Like she was talking to me too.” I sound ridiculous.

  Cal’s whole face smiles when I say this. “Maybe she was talking to you,” he says. “Maybe she was talking to all of us.”

  “Save any coffee for me?” asks Seth, coming into the breakfast room. His jeans and T-shirt are a clean contrast to his canvas of inked skin. Seth kisses me on the cheek and sits down next to me, grabbing a croissant from the table. “Are you still meeting us for dinner, Dad?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it.” Cal offers his son a cup of coffee.

  “Great.” Seth reaches for the mug and then pauses when he notices my new chip-watch. “Holy Barbelo, what’s that?”

  “It’s a present,” I say. “From your dad.”

  Seth picks up my wrist gently in his hand. “What, no finger-chips?”

  “And infest myself with technology?” I say. “No thank you!”

  “Maybe next year,” Seth says, grinning. Then he unclasps the watch for a closer look. He turns it over to inspect the back. “Nice, Dad. You did good.”

  I bend over to see what Seth is looking at. That’s when I see the engraving.

  Cal had the McNeal family sun etched on the back of my timepiece!

  I look up at Cal, but I can’t find any words. I just stare at him while Seth slides the watch back on my arm.

  Cal clears his throat. “You two better be going. Daylight is calling.”

  “Exactly,” Seth agrees, taking a sip of coffee. “What do you say, Blanca? How about we go have some fun in public?”

  I look down at my chip-watch and then up at my new family. “Let’s go,” I say. “This day is going to make the best post ever.”

  THE END

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  This book would not be in your hands without two pioneering women behind it. My agent, Liza Fleissig, of the Liza Royce Agency, is my friend and champion. Georgia McBride, of Georgia McBride Media Group, makes dreams come true. There is no possible way I could express enough gratitude to these fine ladies.

  Jaime Arnold, my excellent publicist, you really are a rockstar in the YA world. Thank you for answering so many questions and entertaining my wild ideas.

  I would also like to thank my small army of beta readers, Alana Albertson, Carol Brudnicki, Karyn Brudnicki, Muffie Humphrey, Vanessa Moody, Jennifer Parmenter, Sarah Weston, and Sharman Badgett-Young. You made Genesis Girl better.

  My LRA siblings, Joshua David Bellin, Darlene Beck-Jacobson, and Sarah J. Schmitt have answered many frantic emails, and provided expert advice on writing. Ginger Harris-Dontzin from LRA, thank you for your work on my behalf.

  Jeanne Ryan, not only did you come to my son’s school years ago to volunteer your time as an author, you’ve been my Washington State fairy godmother, swooping in to help when I needed it most. I can’t wait to watch Nerve on the big screen.

  An unseen hand in Genesis Girl is the pioneering work of Dale Carnegie. I based some of the Vestal tactics on ideas first explored in his famous book from 1936 called How to Win Friends and Influence People. I also used my experience as a Psychology major at Stanford University where I was taught by the most brilliant researchers in the field.

  Thank you to all of my social media friends and followers. I’d like to give a special shout-out to my Delta Gamma sister Claire McCormack Hazlett, who has had my back every step of the way on my blog, TeachingMyBabytoRead.com, and on my Facebook page, The YA Gal. An extra wave goes to my pals from The Sweet Sixteens.

  Sixteen to Read sisters, Michelle Andreani, Ashley Herring Blake, Jennie K. Brown, Jennifer DiGiovanni, Laurie Elizabeth Flynn, J. Keller Ford, Catherine Lo, Sarah Glenn Marsh, Sonya Mukherjee, Marisa Reichardt, Meghan Rogers, Shannon M. Parker, Erin L. Schneider, Janet B. Taylor, and Darcy Woods, this journey has been richer because of your friendship.

  I live in Edmonds, Washington, and am proud to call Puget Sound my home. Every week I write a column called “I Brake for Moms” for The Everett Daily Herald. To my Herald readers, it is a privilege spending Sunday mornings with you. To the wonderful people at The Herald including Jon Bauer, Sally Birks, Andrea Brown, Gale Fiege, Jessi Loerch, Melanie Munk, Doug Parry, and Aaron Swaney, thank you for developing me as a writer. I owe a special debt of gratitude to executive editor Neal Pattison for taking a chance on an unknown stay-at-home mom.

  To my parents, Bruce and Carol Williams, thank you for giving me such a beautiful childhood full of warmth and happy memories. Thank you to my sister, Diane, for making it joyous. My in-laws, Marc and Lynn Bardsley, are the best second set of parents I could ever wish for.

  To my husband, Doug, thank you for putting up with the thousands of hours I spent crafting Blanca’s world. Bryce and Brenna, I love you with all my heart. When you are old enough to join social media, you can be certain that your mom will be watching your every move. Have fun and be safe.

  JENNIFER BARDSLEY

  Jennifer Bardsley writes the parenting column “I Brake for Moms” for The Everett Daily Herald. You can find Jennifer on her website: http://JenniferBardsley.net or on her Facebook page: The YA Gal. An alumna of Stanford University, Jennifer lives in Edmonds, Washington, with her husband and two children.

  PREVIEW:

  DAMAGED GOODS

  Jennifer Bardsley

  Chapter One

  All I smell is leather. Seth’s arms are around my back, his hands tangled in my long brown hair. My lips devour his, hungry
for contact. Beyond us a seagull cries and soars above the waves of Santa Cruz beach.

  If I kiss Seth hard enough, my scars fade way into oblivion. Barbelo Nemo and his mind control tricks. My childhood spent in seclusion at Tabula Rasa, hidden from the Internet. I slide my fingers underneath Seth’s jacket against the stickiness of his shirt. I begin to undo a button.

  “Whoa, Blanca.” Seth pulls my hands away. “We’re not the only people in the parking lot.”

  I scan to the left and right of the rest stop. Strangers are everywhere. “Since when did you care about what other people think?”

  “Since I started dating a Vestal.”

  I pull back and look out at the cliffs. “I’m not a Vestal anymore. You know that.” I feel the antique chip-watch on my wrist. Seth’s dad, Cal, gave it to me as a present after my platinum cuff was removed. Once a Vestal is de-cuffed, they are expelled from the Brethren.

  “So those tourists snapping our picture don’t bother you?” Seth motions to a small crowd a few cars over.

  I look to where he points, and the flash of thumb-cameras blinds me. Vestals must never have their pictures taken by random people. That privilege belongs to the companies that purchase them and market a Vestal’s privacy one advertisement at a time. I reach my arms out by instinct, to protect my face from the public. “I’m fine with it,” I lie, pulling my hands down. “But we better leave now or we’ll be late to the restaurant.”

  “My dad can wait a few minutes.” Seth scoops me in his arms.

  “Blanca!” one of the spectators calls. “And Veritas Rex! Is that really you?”

  Seth holds up his hand and wiggles his finger-chips. “The one and only!” Then he dips me back for a kiss.

  I stiffen like cardboard. “Stop it,” I mumble, trying not to squirm. All I can think about is the cameras, my face flashed worldwide and weirdoes slobbering over my private moment with Seth. “We’ve got to go or we’ll be late.”