by Jenna Moreci
to her chagrin. Finally, she turned her attention back to her tedious exam, though everything in her life had lately started to feel that way: monotonous and repetitive, the same shit moment after moment, just as it had been only a fewmonthsprior.
Theexamperiodfinallyended— ThankGod,Evethought—andsheeagerly
raced down the lecture hall stairs. Clarke was staring at her, his expression intenseasifhehadsomethingtosay,butEvewasn’tfeelingespeciallysocial.
“Evelyn,”hecalled.
Shecontinuedonherway,ignoringhim.
“EVE,”herepeated,thistimelouder.
Stillshedisregardedhim,hopingthatsheappeareddistractedormaybeeven
theslightestbitdeaf.
“I’MSORRY,”heshouted.
That stopped her. Eve turned to face the professor, her mouth twisted with confusion.“Forwhat?”
Hewasquietforamoment,waitingforhisremainingstudentstoleavethe
classroom. “I was out of line,” he began. “When I spoke to you last week. It wasn’tmyplacetosaythosethingstoyou.”
Eveapproachedtheprofessor’spodiumandflashedasardonicsmirk.“With
allduerespectsir,you’rebeingstupid.Asitis,Ishould’velistenedtoyouin thefirstplace.”
Hesighed.“Yeah,”hemuttered,“meandmywonderfuladvice.”
Evefurrowedherbrow.“Professor?”
“Howareyouholdingup?”hecontinued.“Youhaven’tseemedthesame
since,”hehesitatedandlookedaway,“theincident.”
“I’malive.ThepeopleIcareaboutarealivetoo.We’reallbetteroffnow.”
Clarkechuckledtohimself.“Betteroff,huh?”
“Excuseme?”
“Thelastcoupleofmonthshavebeengoodforyou,Eve.Forawhilethere,
youactuallyexudedasortof”—hestopped,lookingfortherightword—“a
sortof vitality.Youwereadifferentwomanthantheonewhowalkedintomy classonthefirstdayofthesemester.”Heloweredhishandstohissides.“Now,
it’sasifthatenergyhasbeen…depleted.”
Eveforcedashrug.“Finalsweekisn’texactlymyfavoritetimeoftheyear.”
“Thereareafewotherswho’vebeenalittleoff,too.”Heeyedhercuriously.
“Mr.Valentine’sinmynextclass.Heseemsespeciallydejectedthesedays.”
Eveclenchedherjaw.“ProfessorClarke,whatexactlyareyoutryingto
say?”
“ImeantwhatIsaidtoyouthatday:thatyouneededtobeprepared.Butyou
alsohavetobeabletolivewithyourself—withthedecisionsyoumake.”
Shebitherbottomlipwithannoyance.“Look,wegotcockyandcareless.
Wethoughtwewereunbeatable.Andbecauseofthat,everythingwenttohell.”
“Anddidyoulearnanything?”
“DidIwhat?”
“Fromtheexperience—fromthefailure.Didyou learnanything?”
“Ilearnedwhentobackdown,”Eveshotback.“YouaskedmeifIwas
preparedforacollapse.Well,wecollapsed—wecollapsed hard—andIwasn’t preparedforit.”
Clarkeshookhishead,hiseyesuncharacteristicallysad.“Youknow,
sometimesevenleadershipprofessorsgetthewholeleadershipthingwrong.”
Eveofferedhimasympathetic,thoughclearlycontrivedsmile.
“Andsometimestheygetitright.”
EveleftClarkestandingbyhispodium,notbotheringtotakeasecondlook
at him. She barreled into the hallway, nodding for Numbers One and Two to
follow her, and just as she turned the corner to her next class, she smacked directlyintoanotherstudent,whowasfumblingwithanunwieldymountainof
paperwork.Thestudentstumbledback,hispapersscatteringtotheground,and
Eveturnedtoherpatrolmenandgrimaced.
“See?Now,howareyousupposedtoprotectmefromanalienifyoucan’t
evenprotectmefromastackofpapers?”sheteased.
Sheturnedbacktothemessofpapersandthesmall,shaggy-hairedstudent
whoscrambledtocollatethem.
“Armaan?”
Heglancedupather,tryingtoshakehisebonylocksfromhiseyes.“Sorry,
Eve,”hemurmured.“Didn’tseeyou…forobviousreasons.”
Evecroucheddownandhelpedherfriendsortthroughhispile.They
workedtogetherinsilence.Evequicklyshuffledthepagesintoamessystack,
whileArmaanworkedmuchmoreslowly,hisattentionsplitbetweenthetaskat
handandhisfriendbyhisside.
“Iheardyouquitthe…”heglancednervouslyatthepatrolmen,“youknow.”
“Yeah.”
“Doyouwantto—”
“Talkaboutit?Notevenalittlebit.”
Hefrowned.“Well,I’msorryithappened.”
Thestackwasfinallyarranged,andEveploppedthecumbersomeheapinto
Armaan’sarms,nearlythrowinghimoffbalanceonceagain.Heregainedhis footingandbreathedasighofrelief.
“Whatareyoudoinghere?”Eveasked.
“RunningerrandsforDr.Dzarnoski,whatelse?”Hisvoicewascaustic.“The
man’sawayonvacation,andI’mstuckmakingdeliveriesanddoinghis
busyworkwhenIshouldbeinthemedicalwardlearning,Idon’tknow,
something.”
Evewatchedhimforamoment.Hisusualpluckysparkwasgone,replaced
by a sense of resentment. She turned back to her patrolmen— Leave, she mouthed,andtheyobedientlybackedaway—andthenshereturnedherattention
tothewould-bemedicalstudent.
“Youokay?”
“Ijustdon’tknowhowtoescapethis:thisendlesscycleofinvisibility.Idon’t knowhowtogetpeopletotakemeseriously.”Heleanedhisheadagainst
thewallandsighed.“MaybeI’mjustkiddingmyself.”
Evefoldedherarmsinareprimandingfashion.“Armaan,therearealotof
peopleinthisworldwhoaredestinedtobeboring—tospendeachboringday
surroundedbyotherboringpeopleatboringjobsfortherestoftheirboring
lives.Andthey’llneverdomuchofanythingforanyone—orevenfor
themselves.Andthentherearepeoplewhoaredestinedforgreatness:people
like you. You’re smart and ambitious, and people will try to shut you out or makeyoufeel worthless,anddo youknowwhy? Becausethey’re boring, but you…you’respecial.”Hereyebrowsnarrowed,herexpressiononeofkind
criticism.“Youwereborntodobigthings.Sostopbeingsogoddamn scared andgo dothosebigthings.Jesus Christ,whatareyouwaitingfor? Permission?
Youdon’tneedit.”
Armaanchuckled.“Soundslikeyou’retalkingaboutyourself,Eve.”
Eve’sfaceflushed,andsheinstantlyfeltembarrassed.
“Ihavetogettoclass,”shemuttered.
With her cheeks still red, she rushed past the little assistant and down the hallwayonceagain.Herpatrolmenscurriedbehindher,strugglingtokeep
pace,andjustastheyfinallyreachedherside,allthreeofthemsuddenlyhalted.
Evegroaned.Anotherobstaclewasinherpath,onesheshouldhaveseen
coming.
“Sawyourroom,”Haydensnorted.“You’remessy.”
BesideherstoodHeather,herfacebrightwiththemostdelighted,self-
congratulatorygrinEvehadeverseenonthegirl.
“Eve,you’relookingespeciallygrimtoday,”shecooed,eyeingherupand
d
own.“It’salmostasifyou’vebeendefeated.”
“Goodone,Heather,”Evemumbled,sarcastically.“You’resoastute.”
Heatherpointedatthetwopatrolmen.“Aretheseyournewfriends?Itlooks
asthoughyou’veabandonedyouroldones.”Shetiltedherheadpatronizingly.
“Orhave theyabandoned you?Thatseemsabitmoreinkeepingwithyourlife story.”
Evefeltherbloodbegintoboil,flowingthroughherlikeburningmagma.
Shedidn’tneedthis—nottoday,notever,andcertainlynotfromHeather.She turned to the patrolmen at her side—they could see in her eyes the pique that hadbeenignitedandquicklybackedaway—andwithconviction,Eveturned
backtoHeather.
“Look,asmuchasI’veenjoyedthesehallwayrun-ins,I’mlettingyouknow
theyendhere.”
Heather’slipspursed.“Andwhatexactlydoes thatmean?”
“I’mtellingyouto stayawayfromme,”Evehissed.“Youcanspread
whatever rumors you want about my life—I honestly don’t care—but if you evercomeuptomewithanotheroneofyourbullshitattemptsatintimidation,I swear to God I will make you wish you never found my goddamn picture in thatgoddamnfacedatabase.Doyouhearme?”
HeatherstaredbackatEvewiththesamecomplacentexpressionshealways
wore,thoughthistimetherewassomethingmoretoit—somethinghard,
almostchallenging.Afterabriefhesitation,shesmiled.
“Well,thatwasanawfullyimpassionedspeech.Soundslikeyou’vebeen
meaningtogetthatoffyourchestforsometimenow.”
“Get whatoffherchest?”anothervoicechimedin.
Eveturned,surprisedanddismayedtoseeMadisonapproaching.She
sashayedherwayintothemiddleofthecircle,herarmsfoldedandeyes
squinted.
“Madison!”Heatherchirped,offeringtheheiressahug.“Ihaven’tseenyou
inages.Alliswellwithyournewlovemuffin,Isuspect?”
“Couldn’tbebetter.”SheglancedatEve.“Somepeoplearecallingusthe ultimateBillingtonpowercouple.”
Heather let out an insincere giggle that quickly faded into silence, and an uncomfortablehushfelloverthegirls.Haydengazedatthefloorwhile
HeatherandMadisonattemptedtobecordial,andmeanwhileEvemadeno
efforttoconcealherlackofinterestinthewholething.
“Well,isn’tthislikeoldtimes,”Heatherproclaimedatlast.“Thefourofus,
chit-chattingaway.”
“Yeah,”Evemumbled,“thisisn’tawkwardatall.”
“Iwasjustcuriouswhatyouguysweretalkingabout,”Madisonpausedand
shotascowlinEve’sdirection,“with her.”
“Nothingimportant,”Heatheranswered.“JusthumoringEve’sidlethreats.”
“Shethinksshecanscareus.”HaydenglaredatEve.“She’swrong.”
“Whatisthis?”
Thefourgirlsjumpedalmostinunison;behindthemstoodProfessor
Richards,hishandsonhishipsandhisfacecrinkledintoadespicablesneer.
“Areyoupeople loitering?” Hemutteredahandfulofslursunderhisbreath.
“Thisisn’tastreetcorner.Gettoclass.”
Thegirlsscatteredthroughthehallway,eachoneheadedinadifferent
direction.AsEvebeganhertrektoclass,herpatrolmenonherheels,sheheard
Richardscallhername.
“Kingston!”heshouted.HewascrouchedwhereEveandtheothershadbeen standing, fiddling with a trinket he had found on the floor. He glanced up at Eveandthrusthishandinfrontofher.
“Youdropthis?”
Inhishandsatasmallkey.
“That’snotmine—”
Evestoppedherself—herbodybecamenumb,heroncefieryveinsnowice
cold.Shestaredatthekey,atitssilvershaft,itsintricateridges,andtheglittery crystals glued to its grip. She had seen it before: it was Madison’s key to her dormroom.
“Somethingwrong,Kingston?”Richardssnarled.“Lookslikeyoujustsaw
yourlifeflashbeforeyoureyes.”
Evedidn’trespond.Sheslowlypluckedthekeyfromherprofessor’spalm,
examiningitcloselyandskeptically.Itssuddenappearancewasodd— tooodd
—butshedidn’thavetimetodwellonthematter.Richardssnappedhisfingers,
drawingherattentionbacktohimlikeamastertrainingadisobedientdog.
“Finalreviewstartsinfiveminutes,”hegrumbled.“Don’tmakemecastigate
youfortardiness.”
Eve watched as the professor plodded off to his classroom, and just as he slammedthedoorbehindhim,herheartdropped—SanchoandPercywere
standinginfrontofthelecturehall,undoubtedlywaitingforher,astherewas
no other reason for them to be there. She thought of what they might say, of whatshemightsaytothem,andthensheimaginedwhatwouldhappen
afterward,oncesheenteredRichards’classroom—thehatefulwordsofher professorandtheresentfulglaresofherclassmates.Shewasinnomood.
Anideasprangtohermind.Sheshovedthebedazzledkeyintoherpocket
andturnedtoNumberOneandNumberTwo.
“Youknowwhat?ScrewBusinessMath.Who’shungry?”
Thetwopatrolmenlookedatoneanother.
“You’reditchingclass?”NumberOneasked.
“That’swhatImeantby screwBusinessMath.”
NumberTwohesitated.“Butwon’titaffectyourgrade?”
Evelaughed.“Trustme,I’mgettingan‘A,’whetherIlikeitornot.”
The three of them ate their lunch in silence, though Eve expected as much: NumbersOneandTwowerefarfromtalkative,astheirdutiesrequiredthemto
beobservantand,apparently,tight-lipped.Forasecond,NumberTwooffered
Eve a slight smile; it was a look of compassion, though something about it madeherfeelmorealonethanever.Sherememberedherlifebefore
Billington and how she used to covet her solitude, but suddenly the isolation feltdifferentthanithadbefore.
Itfeltlonely.
StrategicCommunicationwouldbestartingsoon,andthoughEve
considered ditching this class as well, her nagging conscience compelled her to attend. Leaving her patrolmen in the hallway, she took her usual spot near the back corner of the room, slouching in her chair as if hoping it would somehowdiminishherpresence.
Suddenly,thedoorswungopen,andJJbargedthrough.Herappearancein
the class was a rarity in itself, and she immediately locked eyes with her formercomrade,sendingEve’sstomachcoilingintoaknot.Neithergirlsaida
word,andJJstormedpasther,takingaseatonlythreedesksawayfromEve,
farenoughtopreventtheirtalkingbutcloseenoughtoleavethembothwitha
palpablesenseoftension.
Thisclasshadnofinalexam.Instead,Guptarequiredeachstudenttodeliver
apersuasivespeech,ataskthatmanyfoundconsiderablymorepainfulthana
simpletest.Eve’sspeechwaspunctuatedwithawkwardstares,assheknew
would be the case, but she felt relief in having finished with her dignity somewhatintact.However,thecomfortwasfleeting;shegrumbledtoherself
asthelastpresenter,theoneclassmateshehadhopedwouldsimplydisappear
intoobscurity,approachedthepodium.TravisBravermanturnedtotheclass
andflashedhistypicaloverconfidentgrin.
&nb
sp; “Myfellowscholars,”hebegan,“ProfessorGupta,”henoddedatthe
instructor,“overthepastfewweeks,wehaveheardmanyspeechesdescribing
thegoodinourcountry:thecharitable,thejustcauses,theheroesofthisfine
nation.Andofcourse,we’veheardthebad:theliars,thecheats,thecriminals
dueforswiftcorrectiveaction.However,we’veyettohearabouttheugly.”His
facedroppedintoanexpressionofartificialconcern.“ThatiswhatI’mhereto
discusswithyourightnow:theharshuglinessofoursociety.”
Astreamofwordswasprojectedacrossthebackwall,andEvefeltherheart
dropinherchest.
Chimera:ACaseStudyinHumanity’sGreatestBiologicalFailure
“Now,inordertohelpyoufullycomprehendthisstudy,Idecidedtocreatea
fictional character to help illustrate my points,” Travis continued, pacing the floor.“She’sayoung,college-agedwoman,who,whileseemingly
conventionalinappearance,leadsalifeofdebauchery,impropriety,and
savageryduetoherill-fatedbirthasachimera.”
Acaricatureappearedalongsidethetext—itwasalong,lankygirlwitha
wild mess of wavy hair. The drawing was primitive, but even with the crude animation, Eve immediately recognized the cartoon’s likeness, as did the rest ofherclassmates.Travissmiled.
“Thenameofthiscompletely fictionalcharacterisEmmaLynnKingpin.”
AlleyesturnedinEve’sdirection.JJwasgapingather,hermouthcurled
withdisgust,butEveinsteadglancedoverhershoulderatGupta,whosatinthe
last row of the classroom. He anxiously met her gaze and sank lower in his chair.
“Scrote,”Evegrousedunderherbreath.
“EmmaLynnKingpinistheperfectexampleofwhythechimerapopulation
needs to be controlled—of course, hypothetically speaking, as she is, as I’ve noted,afabricatedcharacter.”TravisglimpsedinEve’sdirectionandshother
a quick wink. “And while it’s not technically her fault that she was born into this species, it doesn’t change the fact that her sheer existence has caused an outpouringofconflictandeveninterferencefromaworldbeyondthis
universe.”Hepluckedacontrollerfromhispocketandpointeditathis