by JB Dutton
* * * * *
Muffled junior prom music pounded through the door of the bathroom next to the school gym. I washed my hands, careful not to splash my beautiful Coral Rose Leifsdottir dress. The beading around the neckline reminded me of the translucent web of Dark Matter that Noon had made me see from the roof of the Warrington last winter. In the store, I hadn’t noticed. It was only after I had put it on at home that I made the connection.
The last six months had crawled by, now that I was back in the “real world” of schooldays and homework. Cruz and I were now more than an item. We were very, very close. My grandparents had agreed for Dora to become my legal guardian so that I could stay at Chelsea Prep. What else was I going to do? Grow up on a retirement community in Florida? Stay with friends in Lancaster and know I’d probably never get out of there again? Cruz’s elder sister had moved out, so I stayed in her room and helped out with the toddlers at Dora’s daycare to pay my way, but luckily Mom’s life insurance meant that I didn’t have to get an actual job.
I shook the water from my hands and dried them with a paper towel, only subconsciously aware that the music had stopped and a male voice was speaking through a microphone. I raised my head and looked at myself in the mirror. I seemed almost like another person, so grown up, on the verge of adulthood.
My hair fell in waves onto my bare shoulders. The girl at the 8th Avenue salon had done a good job. I peered closer at my face. I had always found myself lucky to have such pleasant, open features. But now, today, something occurred to me... something else. I inclined my head slightly from side to side, then looked at myself straight-on once again. Now that I thought about it, it was obvious. I held the palm of my right hand up so that it covered the right side of my face. Then I switched to the left.
Why had I never thought to check before? My face really was perfectly symmetrical. The Temple of Truth’s breeding program had worked, and I was its outcome.
Then I looked closer. Crap – a zit. I was blessed with incredibly clear skin. Why get one tonight of all nights? I dug around in my makeup bag and took out the concealer. As I twisted the stick and moved my face closer to the mirror I could see that it wasn’t a zit. It was a small beauty mark. I’d never had a single mole on my whole body. But this was definitely one, on my right cheek. And my left cheek was flawless – which meant that I wasn’t symmetrical after all! So why did Aranara and the other Rebel Embodied want to transport me to the Dark Universe? How would it help? What would it prove to these Natan?
I put the concealer away and looked down at the sink, trying to figure it out. I shook my head. Had it just appeared? There was still something key that I didn’t understand.
Polite clapping from the students in the gym. It must have been a speech by the principal. They were probably all wishing he’d wrap it up and get off the stage so that the dancing could start again. Cruz was waiting for me out there. I opened the bathroom door and walked down the hallway to the gym.
As I entered, I heard the principal say, “So, without further ado, please give a warm welcome to my replacement, Mr. Salas.”
He stood aside and a tall, handsome Latino man in his forties approached the microphone. I made my way through the crowd of students, looking for Cruz. Valerie Tancredi puffed out her chest and sighed to Brianna Schiff, “Dude, he is so hot...”
Oh good, there was Cruz, off to one side. Avoiding the limelight as usual, tall blue drink still in hand. He caught my eye and smiled.
“Thank you,” said Mr. Salas, then turned to the audience. “How should I address you? Students? Boys and girls? Young men and women? You see – being a principle is a tough job and I think we should all give Mr. Carroll a big hand to say thank you for the last five years of service to Chelsea Prep.”
As the students clapped I reached Cruz and he handed me a fresh Shirley Temple. He was so thoughtful! I gave him a peck on the cheek. My eyes widened and I kept my face close to his. His skin was darker than mine, but just as unblemished... except for – now I was seeing it for the very first time – except for one small mole on the cheek I had kissed.
“What are you staring at?” he asked me, laughing.
“Nothing,” I lied as the applause died down.
Onstage, Mr. Salas had finished clapping. But he kept his hands clasped together. “This is a party, so I won’t kill the mood any longer,” he joked, looking around the room. Then he seemed to focus his speech directly at Cruz and me. “I’m looking forward to seeing you guys in September.”
I felt a wave of light-headedness. Like I wasn’t quite in control of my own mind. Mr. Salas still had his hands clasped in front of him, arms slightly outstretched. He smiled a perfectly symmetrical smile.
“Enjoy the summer.”
The End
…of the Embodied trilogy, book 1
Kari will return in Starley’s Rust
DEDICATION
To Sacha and Lily
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you to Alex for an amazing cover, Tammy for wonderful editing, Kayla and Alex for valuable input and my parents for letting me do what I want.
Connect with JB Dutton
Hi. Yes, it’s me. I also write fiction for adults as John B. Dutton
If you would like to find out more about how I write and what I think about the writing process, read my blog, Sitting at your desk isn’t work.
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Other books by the author
Book 2 of the Embodied trilogy
Starley’s Rust (2015)
Book 3 of the Embodied trilogy
Diamond Splinters (2016)
Short story collection (as John B. Dutton)
Life is Good (2012)
Novel (as John B. Dutton)
The New Sense (2013)
Full-length sci-fi story (as John B. Dutton)
The Information Monster (2015)
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