It wouldn’t be hard to beat my past experience with French fries. If I managed to steal some from somebody’s take-out bag, they were usually long cold. That is, if I got any at all after my siblings had their fill.
“What are you thinking about, Luna? You seem to be having some very serious reflections about French fries.”
I pursed my lips, annoyed. “I wasn’t thinking about the fries,” I admonished.
Zander’s grin widened, and he held up his hands. “Hey, I’m not gonna judge,” he said winking. “French fries are serious business.”
I opened my mouth to retort, but before I could, he said, “Looks like your wait is over, we’re here.”
I looked up to find we were standing outside the entrance to a quaint little café. A brightly colored striped awning stretched the length of the roof’s overhang, and the words Bob’s Diner were painted in bold red across the front window glass. I’d passed this place on my way to school, but never really paid much attention. Eating out anywhere seemed such an extravagant luxury it never occurred to me to give it a second look.
“After you, my lady,” Zander said eyes sparkling mischievously as he took hold of the big brass doorknob and opened the oversized door for me.
“Thanks.” I swept past him and nearly tripped over the small step, but regained my equilibrium just in time. I groaned inwardly. I seriously rotted at all this social stuff. The interior was packed with people, most of them clustered around the old oak bar. A few customers sat at wooden tables, laughing and chatting as they ate their meals. A sign on the bar listed the daily specials. The perfectly handwritten menu promised everything from fresh chicken fried steak, to something called the lunch box burger with shoestring fries and coleslaw. To the left of that, a slightly smaller identically designed sign offered free home-brewed coffee.
Zander led me away from the noisy crowd toward a softly lit back corner booth. Almost as soon as we sat down, a waitress wearing a poodle skirt from a bygone era came to take our drink requests. I ordered a lemonade; Zander asked for a coke. After she left, I took a better look at my surroundings. The black and white tiled floor was spotlessly clean, and the gold-framed fifties photographs cast a polished gleam against the walls. The waiters, with their white t-shirts, jeans and slicked back hairstyles matched the ladies in the style of that time. Despite the chatter of the restaurant, I sensed an underlying calm, an order I couldn’t pinpoint. Even here, in the midst of people enjoying themselves, unstated rules permeated the atmosphere. I shivered.
“Hey, are you cold?” Zander asked. “Do you want my jacket?”
“No. I’m fine, thanks,” I said hastily turning my attention to the menu. “So, what’s good here?”
“I usually get a burger and fries. They have the best burgers in town.”
I looked up; he was staring at me in the same intense way as before. Almost as if he wanted me to say something.
I chose to ignore it.
I shut my menu. “Great, I’ll have that.”
Relief flooded through me as the waitress returned with our drinks—solving the problem of having to answer any awkward questions in public.
“Here’s your beverages,” she said placing the cold misty cups in front of us. “Are you both ready to order?”
“Yes, that would be great,” Zander replied. We’ll both have the deluxe cheeseburger and a side of fries.”
The waitress pulled out her small tablet and tapped a few times, no doubt inputting our order, then gave Zander a robotic smile. Her body language revealed she’d done this a lot and she hated it. “Got it. Be back with your order in just a few minutes.”
He thanked her and waited until she disappeared before he leaned in close across the booth. “So, you never told me where you’re from.”
My mouth went dry, and I took a sip of lemonade, biding my time. Geez, this guy never gave up. Maybe I’d better give him an answer, so he’d finally put it to bed. “I’m from here. Same as you. I’m surprised I haven’t seen you around before.”
Lies. Lies. Lies.
Necessary lies. But there was something about him that tugged at my heartstrings. I didn’t want to deceive him.
Zander’s eyes clouded over with concern. “Well, I guess it was lucky you happened to come by the library then.”
I breathed an audible sigh of relief. “Yes, it was,” I said lamely.
“Hey, I never told you how wonderful you look tonight.”
My face flamed red. I didn’t want to admit it but I’d gone to great pains with my appearance this evening. Even trying out the curling iron wand thing left in my room. I’d taken ages trying to decide what to wear, and in the end picked out a knitted knee-length cobalt blue dress, and some calf high black boots. It wasn’t exactly my style, but it was in my closet so I thought I’d try it.
“Sorry, I’ve embarrassed you again,” Zander said. “I seem to be good at that. Let’s change the subject. Tell me some things you like to do for fun.”
My mind scrambled. This seriously had to be the most uncomfortable conversation I’d ever experienced. This was certainly not how I envisioned the evening going.
I tapped my fingers on the table trying to come up with a halfway decent answer.
One. Two. Three…
Had I done anything just for fun? I didn’t think so. Everything fun seemed frivolous when every day had been a fight for survival. Even this strange dinner date with Zander appeared unimportant after all I’d endured in W1 Nova. “Why don’t you tell me what you do for fun?” I said, reflecting the question back to him. I was desperate to get the spotlight off me.
He smiled. “Fair enough. Let’s see. Hmmm… Well, I love growing plants; I only have a small garden now, but hope to have a bigger one in the future. But some designs are off-limits, so I have to make sure I adhere to the guidelines. I also tinker a lot. I like to figure out how things work.”
I leaned in, eager to ask him why the parks and gardens all looked the same but stopped when the waitress returned with two burgers and a large steaming hot basket of fries.
It occurred to me her interruption had probably saved my behind. I’d almost given myself away. Hadn’t I told Zander I was a local, like him? That meant I would already know why the parks and gardens were so symmetrical.
Real smooth Luna. Real smooth.
Better for me to stick to the shadows and keep under the radar. Conversation apparently was not my strong suit. Any more faux pas and somebody would start snooping into my background. Hadn’t Zander warned me they were always watching? But that was strange too, why would he warn me? I bit my lip, analyzing the situation. The lack of control unnerved me; at least on W1 Nova, my life had been somewhat my own. That is, until my charming mother sold me out for a superior existence. I immediately dismissed the image of that awful day and refocused my attention on the task at hand.
I smiled at Zander before setting to work on my food. It looked delicious. One thing was certain—my taste buds had never been happier. My mouth watered in anticipation for the crisp fries and juicy burger about to invade my senses. I took a bite of the enormous sandwich. “Oh my God,” I exclaimed. “This burger is to die for.”
Zander laughed. “I presume you like the food here then.”
“Like it? I love it,” I gushed. “We have to come back here.” Oops. Stuck my foot in it again. It sounded as if I wanted him to take me on a second date. I could kick myself. Why had I said that? But fortunately, Zander had started to tuck into his own meal and hadn’t noticed my comment. Another lucky save.
We continued on eating in silence, with me living just this side of heaven. Never had I tasted anything this good. After we’d devoured every last crumb, our conversation turned to surface topics, like birthdays, and complaints about teachers and school.
Eventually, Zander suggested we take a walk through town. We left the restaurant and headed down Main Street, passing the library, post office, and grocery store, finally reaching the outskirts of the borough.
We stopped at a picture-perfect pond, the village lights reflecting their silvery mooned image on the water’s surface. We were quiet for a time, drinking in the tranquil peace of the evening.
Zander reached over and took my hand in his. I gazed up at him, and an unfamiliar feeling of pure happiness flooded through me—but I caught myself—the last thing I needed was to become involved with Zander. I quickly steeled my features.
No one could be trusted in this place.
No one.
Zander looked at me, and for a moment, I thought for sure he was going to kiss me. Instead, he took me in his arms and hugged me. I wanted to pull away. How dare he assume I desired a hug from him? After all, I hardly knew the guy. Who did he think he was? I was just about to stomp down on his foot when he whispered something barely audible into my ear.
“I have memories that don’t belong to this place too, Luna.”
Chapter 16
I yanked myself out of his grasp and glared at him. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Luna, keep your voice down,” he said in a low tone.
I whipped my head around to see who else might be listening. But all I was able to make out were the shadows of the lampposts on the sidewalk, and the sound of the wind rustling the leaves in the trees. We were alone.
I stepped toward him and shoved my finger into his chest in warning. “Look Zander, I don’t really know you, but I’m not stupid. Did you think one dinner would have me spilling my guts? For what? Just so you can run back to your cronies, or whoever set this up, and blab all the info you learned about me?”
My voice rose to a high crescendo, and I saw Zander take a nervous glance around, his brows furrowed with worry before his eyes locked with mine.
“I’m not spying on you; you have to believe me.” His tone was so low I barely made out the words.
“I want to go home,” I said, turning on my heels and starting off at a brisk pace. At the corner of my periphery, I saw Zander throw his hands in the air, exasperated, before jogging after me.
“Luna, wait. Please.”
I spun once more to face him. “Forget it, Zander. Sorry to be such a disappointment to you, but I’m not as gullible as you assume.”
The concern etched on Zander’s face was evident, but no way would he play me for a fool.
It had been a stupid ploy all along, so I would let my guard down. Like that would ever happen. I pursed my lips in fury. What the hell kind of game was he playing? Saying nothing more, I hoofed it down the street towards home. The more distance between Zander and me the better.
I had been such an idiot. I might have been arrested. And how had he learned about my memories? He wouldn’t know unless he was in cahoots with someone. Or perhaps he was possessed by some kind of psychic ability. How the hell was I supposed to know? My mind raced, trying to come to grips with Zander’s unseen knowledge.
“Luna!”
“Stay away from me, Zander. I mean it,” I yelled, refusing to slow down. I swung around the corner at full speed, nearly colliding with the hedge. Fortunately, he didn’t follow me. Still, I refused to stop running until I reached my front porch. I ran my fingers through my tangled hair, attempting to compose myself. I wanted to appear presentable before I entered the house. The last thing I needed was for Mom and Dad to ask questions. I waited until my breath returned to normal then turned the handle to open the door. Time to face the music.
I found them seated around the coffee table in the living room, immersed in a game of checkers. Dad looked up when he heard me enter.
“You’re back! How was your date?” He grinned giving me a quick wink.
I stood there like a statue, struggling to find the right words to say.
“Well go on then,” Mom encouraged. “Don’t leave us in suspense.”
“We ended up at Bob’s diner, the food was great,” I said lamely.
“And?” she prodded.
I shrugged. “And nothing. We ate, and then he walked me home. He seemed nice and all, but he’s not my type.”
“Aw, that’s too bad,” Dad said, sounding not the least bit sad.
I pretended to yawn. “Well, I’m off to bed, I’m tired. Goodnight.” I turned to leave before I got interrogated any further.
“Goodnight,” Mom said.
“Sweet dreams, Luna Bell,” Dad murmured distractedly, his attention already refocused on his next move on the checkerboard.
Once safely in my room, I squeezed my eyes shut and attempted to make sense of this horrible nightmare. Too tired to think, I gave up and got ready for bed. As I put on my pajamas, I spotted my phone amongst the stolen ones still on the dresser. I wasn’t used to carrying it around and forgot to bring it with me today.
I made a mental note to return the other phones in the morning. The last thing I needed was to be caught with someone else’s cell. I picked them up to put in my backpack when I noticed a red light flashing from inside my phone.
Curious, I examined it more closely, peering at the bottom of the unit to get a better glimpse of the interior. There was definitely some type of mini gadget in there. Palms sweating, I grabbed a long hairpin from the dresser and wedged it into the phone. It produced a brief clicking sound and broke apart, revealing the inner workings. I studied it carefully. Sure enough, barely visible amongst the other parts was a tiny black box flashing a small red light. Instantly, I understood this had to be a tracker. My stomach clenched. Zander had warned me they were always watching. Yes, he may have been lying. But it made sense. Perhaps this was one way they could keep such a “controlled” environment.
I frowned, confused. Why would Zander warn me about them if he just wanted to trap me? It didn’t add up.
Not wanting anyone to realize what I’d discovered, I left the tracker in place and closed it up. I looked at the other phones and noted they all emitted the same red light as mine.
The devices here in P8 seemed primitive for the time. They had the limited capabilities of an old-fashioned flip phone; you could text and call people, but that’s where the technology ended. On W1 Nova, I’d seen the rich with high-tech gadgets that did everything from playing music to ordering food—a luxury afforded only those with the highest social standing.
My mind switched back to the problem at hand. Did the government know I went out with Zander tonight?
But I failed to bring my phone. Did that mean they concluded I’d never left my room? And what if Zander had carried his with him?
I sighed, shoving the cell phones into my bag before throwing myself down on the bed.
For the first time, I admitted to myself I was in over my head.
If I trusted the wrong person, I could end up dead.
I realized that if I wanted to escape alive, I was going to need some help.
But who could I trust? And where did I go from here?
I didn’t have the answers.
Chapter 17
I’d just finished first period English and was about to head to my next class when a cold hand clamped down on my arm.
“Please come with me,” a voice said in an ominous tone.
I looked up to find my teacher, Miss Preston, staring at me, her lips turned down in sour disapproval. I sat frozen to the spot for a minute, not daring to move. What had I done?
“Miss Redwood, is there a problem?” she asked when I didn’t budge.
I jerked my arm free and rubbed it. “Where are we going?” I demanded, not willing to go anywhere without an explanation.
Miss Preston stiffened and straightened up as if to exert more authority. Her coiffed brown bob didn’t budge an inch, solid as a football helmet, as she tilted her head sideways to analyze me. Her old-fashioned black suit, with its white, button-down shirt had been done up to her neck, suggesting she was an uptight character. However, if you looked past her bluff, the strain on her narrow face was clear and shouldn’t have shown up on someone so young. She was actually rather pretty with her ebony skin and big tawny eyes. Pity she
ruined it with the scornful expression that played across her features the majority of the time.
“Are you always this difficult, Luna?” she asked, shaking me from my thoughts.
I refused to answer, and she nodded her head curtly. “Just as I suspected. But at this juncture, that is neither here nor there.” She pointed to the door. “After you, Miss Redwood. The principal would like to see you in his office.”
“But I didn’t do anything.”
“I am not your judge. It’s between you and Mr. Rhodes. Now come. We don’t want to keep him waiting.”
Not knowing what else to do, I stood and followed the prim, straight-laced teacher down the hall. The smell of pine cleaning products and macaroni and cheese cooking in the cafeteria melded together in a disgusting concoction. My stomach lurched, and I began to count to calm myself, certain if I didn’t relax, the principal would hear my heart pounding through my chest for sure.
By the time we reached the principal’s office, I had discovered there were exactly a hundred steps between here and Miss Preston’s classroom, but it hadn’t improved my anxiety one iota.
Miss Preston knocked on the big wood door housing a gold plaque that read, Principal. “Mr. Rhodes?” she called. “I have Miss Redwood here to see you.”
“Ah yes. Please come in,” a male voice responded.
I’d never actually met the principal; however, I’d seen him at a few school events and assemblies. He didn’t fit the perfect mold of P8. I was still trying to figure him out. He seemed a tad flawed for this pristine universe.
I followed Miss Preston into a small office. A cheap plywood desk consumed most of the area, and apart from a rickety little bookshelf tucked in the corner, the sterile room held not much else. I burrowed a little deeper into my sweatshirt, trying to ward off the chill.
“Please, Luna, sit,” the portly man said gesturing to the folding chair in front of his desk. His mustache twitched furiously, like it had taken on a life of its own, and made him appear nervous. But that couldn’t be right. Must be just a weird tic.
Cage of Glass (Cage of Glass Trilogy Book 1) Page 10
