by Rebecca Rode
And he was. Sort of. But eating dinner alone at a long table with a dozen chairs took away from the gratitude a little bit.
The guards still stood there, blocking his escape. By the smitten look on Erne’s face, he wouldn’t notice if Malachi circled the couple in a series of pirouettes. Bailey, though . . . she kept scanning the grounds while she talked. She’d notice him walking by for sure.
The north lawn then. He’d be gone long before an observer could give chase.
He stood and crept along the garden border, careful not to squash any of the flowers. Not because Mom would care or even notice, but because he actually liked the gardener.
He could just make out the exit now, a distant gate with the mechanized arm resting in a downward position. When he reached the section of lit lawn, he shoved his hands into his pockets and strode out like he did this every day, half-expecting to see two red-faced guards rush around the corner of the house toward him. There was no sound but the quiet rustling of his shoes in the grass.
The gate was locked when he arrived, but he slid around it. Built around the same time as the house, about ninety years ago, the gate opened when vehicles approached with the correct sensor. One tight slide around the arm, and he was out.
Now was the time for running.
He reached the arcade fourteen minutes later, chest heaving and his breaths coming in quick gasps. Maybe he should have accepted his parents’ offer of a personal trainer after all. Walking inside all heaving and sweaty would defeat his purpose here, so he paced in front of the squat building for a few minutes to cool down. At least, that’s what he told himself he was doing. Surely his reluctance had nothing to do with who was inside.
Lovesick idiot, he chided himself. He didn’t even know the girl’s name. Tech advancement groups were advocating for public record transparency these days, which would have allowed him to simply scan her with his brain implant and learn who she was. So far Mom resisted the idea. Something about creepy European tech and privacy laws or whatever. All he knew was that it would have come in handy when he saw the new girl at school. A quick scan sounded much easier than asking for her name.
Yet here he was, apparently willing to slip out of the house after curfew and anger his parents just to find out more about the girl with the wide, easy smile and clever eyes. He should have just asked her name in the first place. If it weren’t for the four obviously interested guys surrounding her this afternoon, maybe he could have. They wouldn’t be with her now. The only reason he knew she was here was an overheard conversation with her friend as they left school.
Definitely not lovesick. Just curious.
It didn’t make his stomach feel any better.
He finally gathered the nerve to push the doors open and step inside. Loud music blared from oversized, old-fashioned speakers. Even the music was old. Somehow his grandparents’ music had gone from eye-rolling to hot over the past year. Now anything pre-NORA was in huge demand—the older houses, the clothing, even the technology. Most of it didn’t work, but just owning a piece of it meant status. Malachi’s own room held several hidden antiques. Not even the housecleaner knew about them, and he preferred it that way.
He glanced down at his pre-NORA shirt. It hung longer on one side than the other, indicative of time and repeated machine washings. Whoever owned it first had passed away long ago. Probably their kids, too. He was willing to bet its original owner wouldn’t have stood here frozen like an idiot, eyes sweeping the room as rainbow lights swung around, blinding him every four seconds.
He didn’t recognize a single face. Not the new girl, not anyone.
Malachi pulled his baseball cap lower over his face—another relic from bygone years—and sauntered past the group of teens cheering at a machine with several broken lights. Where the arcade owners had found so many working machines was beyond him. Maybe they’d already been here when his parents arrived twenty-four years ago and claimed what remained of the city as their new home. New NORA. New everything. Ironic that their kids turned to the past for entertainment tonight.
He rounded the first row of gaming machines and scanned the line of absorbed players. None looked like the girl from earlier. Was he so early, or had she simply changed her mind? It was late on a school night. Maybe her parents were the protective type.
“Excuse me,” a voice said from behind him.
He turned to find the girl watching him with an amused smirk.
She nodded to the unused machine he was currently blocking. “You gonna use that one, or are you just here to stare at people?”
She looked even more stunning up close. A smattering of blonde freckles covered her nose and cheeks like tiny wildflowers in a field of grass. Her eyes—a pale blue—held just as much mirth as he remembered, if not more. Like she knew a secret that nobody else did. She’d pulled her natural curls into a pile on top of her head, revealing a gently sloping neck that brought his eyes back to hers again.
He cleared his throat to cover an unsuccessful attempt to pull his gaze away. “I, uh, was looking for someone.”
“Okay. So can you look for them without blocking Number Nemesis?” Her tone was playful. People didn’t use that tone with him often. Could it be that this girl didn’t know who he was?
That was ridiculous. Everyone knew who the Hawking heir was. But she was new . . .
“Sorry.” He moved aside but remained, watching her step up and tap a sensor against the machine’s front. It lit up the screen in fifty swirling colors that converged to form the words “Number Nemesis: Accept the Challenge.” She swept a wayward lock of hair over her shoulder and released a long, slow breath. Then the game began.
It was some kind of logic puzzle, he realized. Digits swept down at increasing speeds, threatening to sink into the screen’s floor. The cursor moved at her command, catching them in seemingly random order and rearranging themselves as she placed them at the side with a practiced hand, building some kind of tower. This was far from the first time she’d played.
The numbers descended thick and fast now, like a torrent of rain. Her fingers moved faster than should have been possible. She knew exactly where everything belonged.
It was then that he noticed the crowd gathering behind them. Several guys and a couple of girls watched over his shoulder, whispering to each other. He heard the words “break the record” a few times. As the bonus round of the level began and the girl’s fingers reached an entirely new speed, a cheer rose from the audience.
Exhilaration flooded through him. He’d never felt so normal before, so average. Nobody seemed to notice the face hidden beneath the brim of his cap.
The game ended in a flash of light and a shrill buzzer sounded. The girl pumped her hands to the ceiling in victory as the words “New Record” appeared on the screen in bold letters. The audience’s cheering rose once again, this time painfully as a girl shrieked in Malachi’s ear. The girl turned to accept her praise with a sheepish grin. All the while, that mischievous twinkle in her eye remained.
“Nobody has ever defeated the game before,” a guy said, sliding past me to place himself at her side. “I didn’t think it was possible, and you did it in like ten minutes. What’s your name?”
She shrugged. The action shook that curly lock of hair loose again, letting it hang down the side of her face. “Moriah. It wasn’t actually that hard.”
“Humble and smart. I’m Dusten. How about we take a walk and you tell me how you did it?”
She wouldn’t tell. Malachi had been in her presence for ten minutes and he already knew that much. Indeed, her smirk reappeared and she swiped her sensor against the machine’s face a second time, likely to collect the points she’d just earned. In the old days, points earned prizes from a glass case near the front. They were useless now. What she wanted the points for, he couldn’t guess.
“Actually,” Moriah said, putting her arm through Malachi’s before he knew what had happened, “I already promised this guy a walk. What did you say your
name was again?”
He was so stunned to find her touching him that it took a second to respond. “I’m . . . Xander.”
“Xander. That’s right. It’s getting hot in here. Should we go now?”
“Sure.”
She practically dragged him past the crowd toward the door. When they reached the crisp outside air, she released his arm and placed herself against the brick of the building, lifting her head to the sky as if in relief.
Malachi could still feel the heat of her arm on his, and it sent his heart rocketing. If a single touch from her captured him like this, what would a kiss feel like?
Fates. He shook his head and reminded himself that he was not lovesick. “Mind telling me what that was about?”
She brushed his question aside with a flick of her slender wrist. “That was the arcade owner’s son. Don’t worry about it.”
“You don’t want anyone else to know the secret. Why? It’s just a game.”
Her grin returned. It sent his heart pounding again. “Numbers Nemesis wasn’t originally an arcade game. It was a test of wits used to filter students at an academy a century ago. Only those who passed it were allowed admittance into the highest levels of education.”
“So you wanted to see how smart you were.”
She stepped away from the wall, cocking her head to peer up at him. Her hair was a mess in the back now, but she didn’t seem to care. “I know how smart I am. Sometimes it helps to remind others of that fact.”
“Ah. You’re one of those.” He didn’t mean for disappointment to leak into my tone, but it did. He knew plenty of show-offs at his parents’ political events—people pretending to know more than they really did.
“Those people who do what, climb ladders? I have some serious goals, and I’m not above using creative ways to reach them. There was a Neuromen Labs official in there. I needed her to pay attention and she did.”
Oh. That made sense. “You’re a scientist.”
“Proud of it. Most of my ideas involve chemistry, but some of them intersect with neurotechnology. By your baseball cap, I’m guessing you aren’t interested in either.”
She was right, but irritation flared inside him. “Hold on. Don’t insult my antique hat. It’s got to be worth thousands of credits.”
“Hundreds, maybe. It has the wrong team name on the front. Now if you had a New York or Los Angeles team, people would care.”
The Old American city names flew right past him. How did she know so much about the culture of an older civilization? “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m sure the . . . ” He paused and pulled his cap off, reading the front again. “ . . . Bird team was good too.”
She giggled at that. “Bird team. I like it. Lucky for you, most people won’t know the difference.”
“Because you’re just smart and you know everything.”
Her grin grew so wide, he caught sight of a row perfectly white teeth. “Well, maybe not everything.”
She didn’t know who he was, for starters. He was glad he hadn’t revealed his identity to the crowd, but the thought of pretending to be someone he wasn’t with this girl made him a little sad. Even if she grew to like him, it wouldn’t be him. It would be some kid with a baseball cap named Xander.
He dismissed the thought. If she knew he was the son of Treena and Vance Hawking, they wouldn’t be having this conversation.
She lifted her head to the sky again and her breath caught. “I almost forgot. Do you see the moon?”
He followed her gaze. “The same one we always see? Yes.”
“It isn’t the same. Because of its phases, it looks different every night. And it’s even different from fifty years ago. My dad says it looked brownish when he was a kid. We’re lucky that the whiteness is coming back.” She brushed my arm, bringing her hand up to motion to the sky. “But this is no ordinary phase. This is a supermoon.”
“You’re going to tell me all about it, aren’t you.”
“Nope. I’ll assume you stayed awake in astronomy class. I just wanted to point it out because most people don’t notice. They can spend all night walking under the moon’s light without looking up once to acknowledge its source.”
Malachi frowned. He hadn’t looked up once on the way here, but surely that didn’t make him an ignorant person.
A gust of cold wind nearly sent his hat flying. As he secured it, she wrapped her arms around her shoulders, looking uncomfortable. He wished he had a jacket to offer her.
“Look, if you don’t feel safe with the owner’s son inside, I can order you a transport. Or walk you home, whatever.” He cursed inwardly at the mistake. Most teens couldn’t afford transports.
“No need. I live pretty close. Thanks for rescuing me from Dusten though. It was chivalrous and brave and all those manly things guys like to consider themselves.”
“Most guys, maybe. I’m smart enough to acknowledge my lack of courage and still be secure about it.”
“Really.” She turned to look at him again, her eyes searching his face. He stiffened, hoping his face still lie in shadow.
Then she bent over, her face close to his. He could almost feel her breath on his cheek.
“Can we stop pretending now?” she whispered.
“Pretending?”
“That you’re some random guy named Xander. I know who you are.”
His heart simultaneously sank and soared. She knew, yet she still wanted to talk to him like he was normal. “Oh.”
“If you stop pretending, I will too. My name isn’t Moriah. I just said that to throw Dusten off.”
Malachi frantically gathered his composure, hoping he didn’t look too thrown. “We should both come clean then. It’s the responsible thing for liars to do.”
“Very responsible. You start.”
“I’m Malachi. You already know that.”
She shook her head. “Not good enough. I told you about my life’s dream. Least you can do is tell me something about yourself.”
“Malachi Hawking. My parents are Vance and Treena Hawking.” I’m going to run the country someday. He held that last part close. It was something everyone understood, but he’d never actually said aloud. He wasn’t sure he could, even to this girl.
“Better. I’m Andreah Leane from New Salem. I’ve lived here exactly four days, eight hours, and three minutes, and I don’t like pets.”
“I love pets.” He’d owned a dog until last year’s unfortunate transport accident.
“You would, wouldn’t you?” She grinned again. “Nice to meet you, Malachi.”
“Wait,” he said, imagining another awkward meeting tomorrow at school. For some reason, he sensed that talking to her in a crowded hallway would be nothing like their easy conversation here under the large, white moon. “Park Hill is near here. I walk there sometimes around sunset. I like watching the sky go dark and the stars appear. Maybe you could lecture me about the science behind it tomorrow.”
Her smile faded and she rubbed her arms, looking cold again. “Um, I’m not sure.”
“Just think about it.”
She nodded quickly, then turned and strode away. A lamplight illuminated her huddled figure and then she disappeared into the shadows.
“Have fun?”
Malachi jumped, finding the outline of Dad in the dark. He clapped the lights on, flooding the kitchen with brightness. Dad sat in a chair, drumming his fingers, a half-eaten plate of drumsticks in front of him. Strangely, he didn’t look upset.
Malachi steeled himself for a lecture. “Yes.”
“You’d better have, after the fright you gave Bailey. She was ready to call the enforcers when she saw a ‘strange man sneaking away.’ You’re lucky she called me instead of stunning you down right there on the lawn.”
So the guards had seen him after all. Malachi shrugged. “I thought they were too busy gawking at each other to notice. You going to tell Mom?”
“I covered for you. Said you went to meet some friends. She wasn’t happy that you went
alone.”
If it were up to Mom, Malachi would have guards following him everywhere. As if anyone wanted to hurt a teenager. “I was fine.”
“I never doubted that. Didn’t know you were such a gamer. When did this start?”
This afternoon, when I saw Andreah. “I don’t know. I’m not sure it’s my thing, exactly. Just trying it out.”
“I’m curious why you chose to try it out so late rather than going over after school. That’s why we give you free time—so you can explore your hobbies.”
Malachi gritted his teeth. He didn’t just have free time; his parents gave it to him. Just like every other aspect of his life. “I didn’t think anyone would notice. You usually don’t.”
Vance leaned back in his chair, pushed the plate away, and sighed. “I guess I deserved that. Your mom and I have been a little distracted, haven’t we?”
“A little.” A lot.
“Work has been unusually intense lately with the skirmishes at the border. I’m not sure those will ever go away. Then there’s the commerce department and their unreasonable demands. I’m not sure how your mom is holding up these days. She’s too exhausted to talk about it when she gets home each night.” He blinked, as if remembering Malachi was there. “But none of that matters, does it? Our family has been too distant lately. Work is no excuse. It just means we’ll have to try harder.”
Malachi nodded. He hadn’t expected the lecture to go quite like this.
Dad patted the table across from him, motioning for Malachi to sit. “I want to hear about this girl.”
Instead, Malachi flinched. “What girl?”
“You look a little smitten. I doubt it was a video game that drew you to that arcade. Have a seat. It’s been a while since we talked.”
Malachi groaned, but he complied, plopping into the chair with as much drama as he could muster. “It’s late.”
“Not too late to talk with my son. I covered for you. Now you get to explain why she was so important.”
“I don’t know her that well.”
A slow grin crossed Dad’s face. “But you want to change that, don’t you?”
