Cage of Glass (Cage of Glass Trilogy Book 1)

by Genevieve Crownson

  But here in P8, I was in a different class altogether. These new memories had shown me that the retina scan didn’t exist here. At birth, you stayed with your biological parents. And everybody attended school; in fact, the law stated it was a requirement until you were eighteen. To my delight, they encouraged even more learning after that. The motto of this place was “everyone helping everyone.” Despite the joy of the thought of advancing my studies, a gloomy cloud descended over me.

  This all seemed too good to be true. The government back in W1 specifically stated that my faction couldn’t afford proper clothes, goods, and housing. Why would they change my circumstance so drastically? Did poverty not exist here?

  My mind whirled with all these unanswered questions until I reached the school—a red brick building, warm and inviting with blooming flower bushes and more perfectly symmetrical trees. I found the symmetry comforting and off-putting all at the same time. There was something unnatural about it. But a part of me loved the tamed identical shapes as well.

  Kids milled about the lawns before the bell rang indicating the start of classes, all dressed in similar clothes to mine, khaki pants, and white shirts. This had to be the required uniform. I must have had that memory implanted and not realized it to be able to get that detail right. Thank goodness for that. If I’d come in the wrong outfit, they would have singled me out for sure. These people looked happy. Everyone smiled and greeted each other kindly. I sensed no hatred here.

  I steeled myself and forced my legs to move forward toward the double doors. Once inside, my feet seem to know where to go, even though I didn’t. I found myself in front of a locker and instinctively recognized it as mine.

  I grabbed my needed materials and headed to class, the blueprint of the school already in my mind like I’d been here millions of times before. I sat down and realized I was in AP Calculus.

  I looked up to see the teacher, a small man with a quirky mustache and a distinct cupid’s bow facing the class. He too, wore the customary white and khaki, his shirtsleeves rolled up to the elbows, and a pencil nestled behind his ear. He held up his hand to silence everyone without saying a word, and to my astonishment, within seconds you could hear a pin drop.

  “Please get out your e-tablets from your desks, I’ve loaded your examination there. When done, electronically forward your test to me and leave your devices in their designated areas. Good luck, students. You’ve worked hard for this.” He smiled and I got the feeling that he really did care about us doing well. He paused just a moment to gaze warmly at us from behind his dark-framed spectacles before returning to his desk.

  Unfortunately, no amount of kindness would get me out of this mess.

  I gulped hard, desperately peering around. Nobody looked up. Their tablets were already out, intensely concentrating on the test. I glanced at the clock and groaned inwardly. It was only nine a.m. How would I survive this day? There was no way I’d pull this off. Would they see through me when I didn’t know any of the material? Then what would they do to me?

  I pushed those dark thoughts aside and pulled out the tablet hidden in my desk. The screen came to life under my fingertips and I saw the first page of the test staring back at me. My skin grew clammy and my breath quickened in a momentary panic until I realized something.

  I understood these equations. More than that, they looked easy. I wracked my brain, trying to recall any new memories that would explain why I comprehended this so easily, but no answers came to mind.

  My stomach contracted into a tight ball, and I fidgeted in my seat, unsure what was happening to me. The lines between my world and this one were frighteningly different. I had to get to the bottom of this.

  But my first priority was to stay under the radar and that meant taking this test. I straightened my tablet, lining it up with the desk exactly; then set to work.

  After only a few minutes, an anonymous text message showed up at the top of the screen. “ARE YOU OKAY? YOU’RE ACTING WEIRD.”

  I jerked up. Sure the teacher had found me out and realized I was a fraud. But he sat at his desk, just where he’d been before, typing away on his laptop, not even looking at me. Cautiously, heart pounding, I scanned the room. Everyone had their head down except for one boy near the middle of the classroom. His piercing blue eyes locked on mine and he raised his eyebrows in question.

  At that moment, I recognized exactly who he was. This handsome boy with the perfect golden skin lay in the forefront of my mind. His voice was familiar to my ears before he spoke, the fragrance of his cologne burned into my senses before getting near enough to touch him. I knew him almost as well as I knew myself. Yet, I was hearing his name for the first time.

  “Orion,” I whispered. The thought wasn’t mine. But the name filled me with a deep desire I had never experienced before.

  Orion could be my downfall.

  Chapter 8

  Orion Duncan was my boyfriend. And I had no idea what to do with that information.

  I’d avoided him all day, dodging him at every opportunity. But when the last bell rang, he’d caught up with me, grabbing my hand to walk me home. I groaned inwardly, knowing my face had turned beet red. I wasn’t used to this kind of attention. His cool smooth hand grasped my sweaty palm, and I wondered if he noticed how clammy it was. Even if he did, he would probably be too polite to say anything. At least, that is what I hoped. But honestly, who could blame me for my nerves? It wasn’t every day you gained a boyfriend you knew virtually nothing about. Sure, some snapshots of us flashed across my mind, but it wasn’t real. Not really. The memories weren’t mine.

  A couple of kids came out of the school and ran over to join Orion and I, laughing and joking around. From what I could gather, the four of us were fast friends.

  I’d never had friends before, and I wondered how I should act. But it appeared my brain had turned into scrambled eggs at Orion’s touch. Not because I personally had an attraction to him but because the memories told me I should. Apparently, I loved this boy, even though I didn’t trust him. Talk about confusing. When I’d first seen him I realized immediately that my feelings were implanted. To survive in this little picture paradise I would need to find a means to separate fact from fiction.

  As we made our way down the perfectly symmetrical tree-lined streets toward home, I snuck a closer look at this Orion boy. He was tall, at least six feet, with the shiniest blonde hair I’d ever seen. His letter jacket failed to hide strong, rippling arm muscles.

  “Earth to Luna. Are you sure you’re okay?” Orion asked in a deep baritone voice.

  I wanted to scream. Of course I’m not okay! I have a pretend boyfriend when I’ve never even had a real one! Hell, none of this is real!

  But instead I simply smiled, the corners of my mouth teasing up at the edges. “I’m fine, Orion. Stop worrying. I’m just nervous about this morning’s Calculus test. I didn’t get much sleep last night thinking about it.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you worry about school? You’re a genius. I don’t remember you ever studying a day in your life. What’s really going on? You’re acting weird.”

  “Leave her alone, Orion,” the tall, willowy blonde, I instinctively knew as Mara, said.

  I turned to face her and realized I’d seen her somewhere—but where? I stared at her openly, not caring what she thought. Even dressed in our boring regulation school outfit she looked pretty. Her flaxen hair hung past her shoulders in long spirals, and her coral colored lipstick accentuated soft, pouty lips. Definitely model material.

  That’s when it hit me. Of course. Who else had looked like a model?

  I came to a screeching halt.

  I’d met this girl before. Back home, at the gateway to P8. She had smiled at me, just as she was smiling at me now. A few things had changed. She appeared less harrowed, and her cheeks had filled out, no doubt the result of a few good meals, or they had “rejuvenated” her as they’d promised us in our departure debriefing.

  Without thinki
ng, I reached up and placed my hand on her arm, wondering if she was purely a figment of my imagination.

  But she was definitely real.

  I wanted to ask her a million questions. Did she remember anything about her life on W1? Or did she just wake up in this place like me? All of these thoughts were tumbling through my mind when her voice brought me back to my senses.

  “Are you all right?” Mara asked. “You’re kind of pale.”

  I jerked away instantly, realizing I was making a fool of myself.

  Mara’s boyfriend, which my memories told me was Jonah, squinted at me through the late afternoon sun. “Dude. You seriously look like you’re about to choke. What gives?”

  He was a bit shorter than Orion, but still very attractive with dark curly hair, and skin the color of chocolate. He made a good match for Mara, they seemed to fit perfectly together like two jigsaw puzzle pieces. Too bad their whole relationship was a lie.

  “Um…nothing, just a little light-headed is all,” I whispered hoarsely licking my dry lips. “I better get home. I probably just need some rest.”

  “You are home, silly,” Mara said pointing to my house. Had we really come that far? I hadn’t realized, I’d been so caught up with everything. Besides, all the houses looked identical to me.

  “Oh yeah.” I gave her a wan smile and laughed a little to ease the tension—but it didn’t work.

  “Hey, why don’t you guys go on, I’ll walk Luna to her door,” Orion said placing an arm around my shoulders.

  My heart fluttered wildly in panic. The last thing I wanted was alone time with Orion. I fought the urge to shrug him off.

  But before I could protest he guided me to my front stoop and turned me to face him. He traced a finger gently down my cheek. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  I nodded silently, not daring to speak. Who knew what would come out of my mouth to incriminate me if I did?

  He hesitated, then rubbed my arms, as if trying to comfort me. But honestly it only made things worse. He leaned close, and at first I worried he would kiss me, but relief washed through me when he bypassed my lips and spoke softly in my ear instead. “Well, call me if you need anything okay?”

  “I will,” I whispered, lying. Did I even have a phone? I must. I noticed everyone at school today with them, but never assumed I’d have one of my own. I’d never had such a fancy device on W1. That was for the rich.

  Orion adjusted his stance, his lips now hovering over mine. I realized he was going in for a kiss after all. I did not want my first kiss to be with a virtual stranger. Plus, his hot breath smelled like popcorn. Ugh, no thanks. I turned my head so his lips only grazed my cheek. A part of me warred with my decision, the foreign memories tugging at my mind telling me I wanted this—him. I pushed them down.

  “I might be coming down with something,” I muttered, quickly coming up with an excuse. “You better go, see you tomorrow.” I hurriedly whisked inside, leaving him staring after me, mouth agape.

  I quickly shut the door behind me and leaned back against its sturdy frame, closing my eyes. Whew. That was close. I inhaled deeply. The next step was facing my parents. If I was lucky, only one of them would be around. Patricia, a.k.a. Mom was a nurse so there was a good chance she’d be at the hospital. But Martin’s schedule as a professor was more flexible. As if on cue, I heard him call my name.

  “Is that you, Luna?” Dad yelled from the living room.

  It felt odd to be calling these people Mom and Dad, yet it seemed to flow naturally from my lips, even though I’d only met them hours before. My mind spun wildly. What was happening to me?

  “Luna?” Dad called again, shaking me from my stupor.

  “Yes. Coming!” I replied. Realizing I had to face the music sometime I forced my wobbly legs to move out of the entryway and down the hall to greet my “dad”. He sat in his recliner, television blaring, watching the news.

  “How was your day, Luna Bell?” Dad asked, his kind eyes full of interest.

  “Fine. I’m pretty sure I did really well on my math test,” I mumbled, stumbling over my words, taken aback someone cared enough about me to give me a nickname. I shook my head, reminding myself again that none of this was real.

  But what if I wanted it to be? Would that be so bad? A sliver of guilt raced down my spine as I thought of Mrs. Peters and my siblings back in W1. I allowed myself a moment to think of Trinity’s smile when I brought her home a treat, and Dara’s small cottage and the many hours we’d spent together giving each other the hope to go on. But now they were just a memory. And there wasn’t much I could do for them from here.

  Dad’s voice shattered the musings from my past and brought me back to our conversation.

  Dad beamed proudly. “That’s my girl.”

  “What are you watching?” I asked, even though it was obvious. I needed to gather as much information as possible on this strange new world.

  “Just catching up on the broadcast. There’s been a recent bill put forth for more federal funding for schools of learning and agriculture. I really love how the President is supporting these initiatives to help as many people as he can. With everyone’s support, we’ll have virtually no one who goes without. It’s a brilliant proposition.”

  I perched on the edge of the couch next to Dad’s recliner and watched a clip of a tall, thickset man of about sixty standing behind a podium. His snow white hair lay flattened neatly against his head and deep lines etched his face, revealing a lifetime of service. The caption at the bottom of the screen read President Falkov gives a speech to the masses in the capital.

  Every member of the audience appeared captivated. I frowned, puzzled. How could the government here be so different compared to the one I came from? Back home, the motto was survival of the fittest—a horrible race to survive. Here, they offered you a helping hand, education, healthcare. Opportunities abounded. The governments were so contradictory. Roy Ball Red said he had authority over everyone, and that we were his conquests. Why had he lied? Clearly, President Falkov and Roy Ball Red had opposing ideals.

  “Dad?”

  He turned to glance at me, “Yes, Luna?”

  As if that was all the permission I needed to ask the many questions whirling around my head I blurted, “Who founded the government? How did President Falkov come to power? Has he been in residence long?”

  Dad laughed. “Aren’t you learning about this at school? I’m sure they broadcast his inauguration in all the classrooms in the country. I remember you coming home and talking about it. Has that boy Orion made you forget all your studies?”

  I bit my lip in frustration. “No, of course not,” I replied, momentarily annoyed. As if a guy would ever be more important than what‘s happening to the people. I took another deep breath to steady myself.

  Hold your tongue, Luna. I admonished myself. This is a different world. Relax, or they will find out immediately you are a fraud.

  I forced myself to smile and even gave a slight giggle. “Well, maybe a little,” I lied sheepishly. Hating every word.

  My father seemed satisfied with that answer. I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Luna, it would be a more beneficial learning experience if you went to the library to have your questions answered. You won’t remember if I just tell you. There’s a lot to be learned from books. Besides, I’m sure your research will be much more informative than what I can offer you.” He rose from his recliner and stretched. “Well Luna Bell, time for me to get a little more work done before I knock off for the day. My students have a pop quiz in their future.” He chuckled, a bit pleased with his idea. Then, without waiting for a reply he patted my head and left, heading for his office.

  I sat there for a minute, considering. My fake Dad may be onto something. Perhaps the library would give me some clues about this new world. Mind made up, I climbed the stairs to my room to study. Already hatching a plan for tomorrow.

  After I’d finished my homework, which to my relief was really easy; I went do
wnstairs to make dinner.

  But when I got to the kitchen I saw the nice woman, my mother of P8, rubbing herbs and butter down a small plump chicken. My stomach growled. Would it ever be satisfied? After years of deprivation and malnourishment, I doubted it. Though here, I did appear less skinny, as if they had somehow camouflaged my protruding bones.

  “Luna!” Mom said looking up. “I wasn’t expecting to see you down here so early. You should be doing your homework.”

  “I planned to make dinner,” I said confused. “I assumed you were working.” I consistently made supper back on W1, or at least tried to conjure something to fill my siblings’ bellies. God knows Rheya would never do it.

  Mom laughed, its comforting sound soothing my frayed nerves.

  “I’ll prepare dinner, sweetie; you know you don’t have to worry about that. I prefer to be home in time to cook and be with you and your dad. Besides, you have enough going on with school and everything else.” Mom crossed to the sink and washed her hands, then dried them on the towel hanging on the stove. She picked up the tray of chicken and put it in the oven before turning back to me, still staring at her in disbelief.

  She came over and gave me a hug. “There, Luna. You know I love when you help. Just not during homework time. Now, go study and make your mom proud.”

  Her eyes shone with pride and I swallowed the big lump forming in my throat. What a different world I lived in. I actually felt special and wanted by two parents. I had no idea what to do with the feelings it stirred within me. But I didn’t want it to ever end.

  Still, hours later, I tossed and turned in my bed. The government’s contradictory message—and hell, my contradictory existence—plagued my mind.