The Perfect Outcast

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The Perfect Outcast Page 1

by Melissa O. Hansen




  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Immortal

  Immortal Works LLC

  1505 Glenrose Drive

  Salt Lake City, Utah 84104

  Tel: (385) 202-0116

  © 2020 Melissa Hansen

  https://www.melissaohansen.com/

  Cover Art by Ashley Literski

  http://strangedevotion.wixsite.com/strangedesigns

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For more information email [email protected] or visit http://www.immortal-works.com/contact/.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN 978-1-953491-98-5 (Paperback)

  ASIN B08FGGSC39 (Kindle Edition)

  For Derek, who believed first

  Alina took her seat in biology class and clicked on her panel, hiding behind the screen. When she’d looked in the mirror that morning, she had despaired to see the trail of bumps on her face had erupted into flaming red peaks. She begged Jade to let her stay home, but it was no use—her absence would only get her in trouble. For almost an hour, Alina worked with her makeup to conceal the blemishes. Despite Jade’s assurances no one would notice, Alina felt them protruding like mountains—so enormous she could see them from the corner of her eyes.

  Over the past three years, the other girls in Pria matured in ways Alina did not. Their bodies slimmed and lengthened, their figures blossomed, and cheekbones sharpened under thick eyelashes. They were each beautiful, but unique, and flaunted any feature that stood out. Now, at seventeen, Alina stood out in ways she didn’t like. Instead of growing slender, her skin puckered around her waist and thighs. Her caramel-colored hair looked limp and wiry even after she brushed it, and her teeth were crooked compared to the clean smiles around her. In the rare event she did smile, she kept her lips closed.

  Three girls entered the classroom and as Alina glanced up, she met eyes with Flora, who gave her a haughty sneer. Gwen and Zelma batted their eyelashes at two passing boys and after flirting outrageously for a minute, huddled near Alina to complain about them.

  “I can’t wait to be done with young boys,” Gwen sighed. She opened a compact mirror and held it close to her face, puckering her lips.

  “I am done with them,” Flora replied. “You won’t believe who came to see me last night.” She paused, waiting for their response.

  “Who?” both girls said at once, a hint of jealousy in their voices.

  Flora leaned in. “Rufus. Do you know him? He’s so hot, and he’s, like, two hundred years old! Pearle was ticked off when he came. I think she was jealous. You should’ve seen her—trying to flirt with him when he came to see me! Can you believe it? My caretaker trying to steal a guy from me? But he totally ignored her. We were alone in the front room and he told me—”

  Flora dropped her voice, but Alina heard every word and cringed behind her panel. She understood why Jade never dated. The way older men flirted with young girls made her shudder, despite Flora’s exaggerations.

  Miss Rhonda stood up and addressed the class, and Alina shut off her panel, knowing it would draw attention from her teacher. Miss Rhonda’s glossy curls bounced as she shimmied between their desks in tight jeans and stiletto heels. She seemed proud of her large teeth because she smiled at every turn, except when her eye fell on Alina. Then she visibly twitched.

  Alina was used to this reaction; in all her years of school only one teacher, Miss Vivian, had positively acknowledged her. Miss Vivian praised Alina in front of the class and didn’t scold her when she daydreamed. She was almost like a friend.

  Once, after a boy called Alina ugly, Miss Vivian slipped her a note telling her she understood what it felt like to be different. Alina found that strange since Miss Vivian was beautiful like everyone else, but the words comforted her anyway. She still had the note in a jewelry box on her dresser.

  But now Miss Vivian was gone.

  Tears sprang to Alina’s eyes and she blinked them back. She hadn’t cried over her former teacher in years.

  “Alina, will you please join the class?” Miss Rhonda barked. “Everyone is on page ten except for you.”

  Alina reddened as she switched on her panel and found the biology tab, then swiped to page ten. Miss Rhonda glared for another moment, then turned back to the class.

  “Today we’ll discuss the process of creating life in the Gordian laboratories. Take a look at the magnificent illustration before you,” she raved.

  Page ten displayed a diagram of a child’s growth, from a small drop of ageless serum, to a perfect Prian baby.

  “Now, as you remember from our lesson last week on reproduction,” Miss Rhonda began, while a few snickers broke out across the class, “the mortal world of Carthem is a place where babies grow inside women. For nine months the baby develops, and this is very unpleasant—what’s so funny?” Miss Rhonda glared with a hand on her hip.

  A boy, with tears of laughter in his eyes, raised his hand. “We can’t see how a baby could grow inside somebody. Wouldn’t the woman get really big?”

  “Of course,” snapped Miss Rhonda. “Why do you think pregnancy was so uncomfortable? Not that any of you understand what that means. No one in Pria has ever been uncomfortable. So, try to imagine. But pregnancy wasn’t the worst part! Think of a baby being forced out the woman’s body! The pain was excruciating, and many women and babies died in the process.” Alina glanced around the room. The students looked both fascinated and disgusted.

  “Babies died?” Zelma asked, puzzled. “Did they keep growing, you know, into dead adults?”

  Miss Rhonda shook her head. “No. Death means they no longer exist.”

  “But what happens to the bodies?”

  Miss Rhonda seemed surprised at the question, as if she’d never thought of it before. “Well they—” she broke off, frowning. “The dead bodies are—”

  She stood still for a moment, eyebrows knitted, then flashed a smile. “Moving right along,” she dodged, ignoring their confused faces. “Father Sampson, as we know, wanted his world to be free of pain, and this he achieved. Immortality makes conception between men and women impossible but also unnecessary, as he forms life from his ageless serum. As a result, we enjoy the pleasures of intimacy without the inconvenience of pregnancy and childbirth.” The class burst into giggles again.

  Miss Rhonda rolled her eyes and went on. “Now, Father Sampson is aware endless life can get dull without variety, so he enjoys being creative with the lives he forms.”

  Zelma snorted and whispered, “Especially his women. He molds them twenty years in advance.” The girls around her stifled their laughter.

  Miss R
honda’s eyes snapped to Zelma. “What did you say?”

  A long, frigid pause followed, and Alina held her breath. Zelma dropped her eyes.

  Miss Rhonda flounced over to Zelma and hovered above her. “Did I hear you say something disrespectful about Father Sampson?” Miss Rhonda’s lips turned white, her willowy figure taut and forbidding.

  The cold silence lingered. “Um, no,” Zelma panted, her voice barely audible.

  Miss Rhonda circled the desk, her face hard as stone. “Perhaps you’d like to stand and repeat your little joke so the proper punishment can be administered.”

  Zelma flushed and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Forgive me.”

  Miss Rhonda’s bangles tinkled as she rested her hands on Zelma’s desk. “Mocking Father Sampson is unforgivable,” she hissed. “Say something like that again, and I’ll make certain he hears of it. Maybe that will teach you to watch your words.”

  Zelma nodded, her pretty cheeks a bright shade of pink. Miss Rhonda glowered a moment longer, then turned to the class and continued as if no interruption had occurred.

  “Look around our room, for example,” she said, waving her hand over the class. “You’ll notice none of us is alike. Skin, hair, and eye color differ. We have tall and short, black and white, blond and brown. Father Sampson is creative with hair color, so occasionally you’ll see a redhead. However, he doesn’t use the same creativity in people as he does in animals. He likes his people to resemble the humans of Carthem, but perfected and beautified.”

  Flora’s hand shot up in the air. She spoke before Miss Rhonda could call on her.

  “Why doesn’t Father Sampson experiment more with people? I have lots of friends who want a different hair color, like blue or pink. I’ve heard caretakers can give requests for their wards. What if I request one with purple hair?”

  The class giggled, but Flora didn’t flinch, showing absolute sincerity. Alina’s face grew warm. She didn’t know caretakers could request how their wards looked.

  “First of all,” Miss Rhonda stressed, “it’s unlikely any of you will raise a child. There are thousands of applicants each year, and only a handful are approved. But as a matter of fact, Father Sampson has experimented with people and that’s why he now chooses not to. This happens to be what our lesson is on today. Swipe to page sixteen.”

  Panels clicked throughout the room, and Alina grabbed hers with wet palms. She didn’t like the direction of this lesson.

  “Around the time each of you were being formed,” Miss Rhonda explained, “Father Sampson was under enormous pressure to produce more variety in babies. So, he decided to experiment. Unfortunately, his first batch went drastically wrong. He repaired the damage as best he could, but one case was severely affected.”

  Miss Rhonda glanced at Alina before continuing. “He was unable to alter the serum cells without disfiguring the child, who continues to grow abnormally to this day. He learned a hard lesson and now wishes the case to be known—a reminder of what can go wrong when we desire too much.”

  Miss Rhonda didn’t need to say more. She fixed a sharp glare on Alina, and every eye in the classroom followed. Alina went crimson and felt the dreaded lump form in her throat.

  This information didn’t surprise her. She suspected something had gone amiss during her commencement. But she’d always hoped to be wrong.

  Now everyone in Pria would know. She’d be labeled as Father Sampson’s biggest—and only—error. The heavy disappointment threatened to choke her.

  Alina stared at her panel and blinked her eyes. No tears. Not one. If one slips out, the rest will follow.

  After biology was history. Could she endure another class? She couldn’t risk stopping at the bathroom—the tears would surely come. If only she could sneak through the back door of the school and run to Jade’s work, into the comfort of her arms.

  No, not to Jade. Not about this.

  Alina stared blankly at the screen until class ended, then kept her eyes on the ground and fidgeted with her necklace as she walked to history class. She’d walked those hallways enough to know what occupied them: a kaleidoscope of bright fabrics, red lipstick, and designer jeans hugging slim legs and backsides. Musical laughter rang through her ears and voices spoke over each other, trying to be heard. The chatter abated when Alina walked by. Even the smacking of couples kissing ceased as they watched her under plumes of lashes. A few noses wrinkled as if ugliness smelled bad. As if, drenched in their zesty perfumes, they even knew what a bad smell was.

  She ducked into the classroom and found her seat, hiding her face as she clicked on her panel. History was her least favorite subject, and as she struggled to focus, she made the mistake of glancing around the room.

  She met eyes with Eris, the red-haired beauty Alina once asked to play with, and who hadn’t stopped tormenting her since. At only eight years old, Eris discovered the exhilarating—if temporary—buoyancy that came from sinking another.

  The encounter happened on the annual Day of Genesis, back when Alina found the celebration enchanting. She awoke excited to wear her new blue dress and shiny white shoes. Jade curled Alina’s hair and laced the ringlets with ribbons, and Alina felt almost pretty—like the other girls.

  They were walking to the outer gardens when she first saw Eris, clasping hands with her friends and running to the park. Alina twisted her waist until her dress swayed, her feet aching to run with them. They had flowers in their hair instead of ribbons, but her dress looked like their dresses. If she could catch them, she might blend in.

  “May I play with the girls at the park?” she asked Jade.

  Jade hesitated; her jet-black eyebrows pinned together over her dark eyes. She started to shake her head, then noticed Alina’s face and sighed. “All right. I will be at our usual spot, near the fountain, when you want to find me.”

  Alina grinned and took off skipping, but as she approached the girls a knot formed in her stomach. She feared them almost as much as she longed to giggle and run with them.

  She chewed on her lip, hoping they would see her and invite her in. Eris was the prettiest, with her long, flowing red hair, but her friend with the ebony skin had the prettiest dress. Alina waited on the edge of the park until one of them noticed her.

  “Hey!” the girl called out. “Do you want to play?”

  Alina beamed and started towards them. The others stopped to watch.

  “Hi,” she said as she joined them. The girls stared for a moment, frowning. They glanced at each other.

  “I’m Alina,” she said, to fill up the silence.

  “We know who you are,” said the girl who called her. “I thought you were someone else.”

  Alina swallowed. “Can I play?”

  Eris narrowed her eyes. “Isn’t Jade your caretaker?”

  “Yes,” said Alina, with more confidence.

  Eris put her hands on her hips. “My caretaker told me Jade used to be the most popular lady in Pria until she got you. Now she’s boring and doesn’t have any friends. I know why. Who would be happy with someone who looked like you?” She smiled as the girls around her burst into giggles.

  Alina shifted her feet. A tight lump formed in her throat, and she knew what that meant. She clenched her hands, digging her fingernails into her palms. She would not cry.

  “Jade is happy with me,” she gulped. “She says—”

  “Sorry,” Eris cut in. “Only pretty girls are allowed to play with us.” She whirled around, clasped hands with the others and they skipped away, giggling.

  Alina put her face in her hands. She could hide in the trees and cry, then go back to Jade and maybe she wouldn’t notice. Alina didn’t want anyone to know what happened. But when she looked behind her, Jade was kneeling with outstretched arms.

  She had seen the whole thing.

  Alina clung to Jade’s arms as they surrounded her, releasing her tears into the soft velvet of her dress. Jade didn’t care for those fancy dresses anyway.

  A
lina adjusted her seat and tried to focus on her history lesson. She shouldn’t have reflected on that memory, with tears already at the surface and Eris’s teal-blue eyes staring at her from across the room. Alina slouched as Eris walked toward her.

  She loomed above Alina for a moment, peering over her shoulder. Alina rubbed her forehead to hide her face, but Eris had seen enough. She scrunched up her nose in disgust.

  “Ugh, Alina, what’s that all over your face?”

  Her voice cut through the room, and the class flocked over. She moved out of the way to provide an unobstructed view. Alina’s peers often examined her with curiosity and repugnance, as if she were a specimen in science class. No one looked her in the eye.

  After they’d inspected and recoiled enough, Eris stepped in the circle to reclaim the attention. “Really, Alina, you should find out what went wrong when you were formed. Maybe one of your friends can help—oh wait, you don’t have any friends. Well then, why don’t you talk to Jade about it? Oh wait!” she exclaimed to the giggling crowd. “She doesn’t talk to you. In fact, I believe she hasn’t said much at all since you came along. Looking at you every day, I can see why.”

  Alina shot to her feet and balled her fists, her face flushed with anger. Her mind searched for a retort, but after a tense moment, she snatched her panel, shoved it in her bag and ran to the door. Eris’s laughter rang out behind her.

  Before she slipped out the door, Alina lifted her hot face and caught a boy’s eye from the corner of the room. Zaiden. The only one who hadn’t left his seat.

 

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