by Joe Shine
All I have to do is make it through the week. Then I’ll get to drive a car. Holy Jamolie.
The smile came back. For a good minute I stood in the middle of my room with a ridiculous grin on my face, savoring the excitement that was this coming Saturday. The smile was still on my face as I showered. Still on my face while I brushed my teeth. Still on my face when the door to my room slid open and Not-Beth walked in with my nightly dose of fire. Smile gone.
CHAPTER 8
DRIVING MISS CRAZY
I want to say the rest of the week went in a blur, that I was so busy it all flew by, but that would be lying. Getting the crap beat out of you every morning tends to make the days drag. The only thing that kept me going was the promise of getting behind the wheel.
Junie took like a champ to the challenge of keeping me conscious. Every time Cole asked for volunteers for something, Junie’s hand shot up. We all knew that without Junie, I woud have been Cole’s favorite tackling dummy. Oblivious to the real reason Junie was volunteering, Cole must have simply assumed he had gotten a taste for punishment and was all too happy to oblige. But Junie could take it, he was big and strong and tough, and it felt like Cole was holding back a bit on him. Maybe he figured that once Junie was even remotely trained, Junie would have been able to snap him in half. I posed no such threat.
On the morning of driving day, Cole was showing us a new hip throw. It wasn’t painful, but the landing was. He must have tossed Junie around a good thirty times before letting us team up to practice.
Holding his hip and cringing as he limped over to me, Junie joked, “You better be from somewhere good. Or like the daughter of some rich czar or something.”
“Both, and more,” I said sarcastically.
I grabbed his collar and with all my might tried to do the throw. He didn’t even budge. I tried again. Nothing. It was like trying to toss a giant or firmly rooted tree.
“Can’t you just tell me now?” he asked.
“Uh, there are like five more knockout-friendly hours ahead of me. I’ll tell you after I get to drive, okay?”
I tried to flip him again but was met by the same immovable force. Frustrated, I scolded in my bad-dog voice, “Juuunie. Stop.”
He sighed. “You need to put your hip here.” Then he gently grabbed my hips and rotated them to where they needed to be, which happened to be against his thigh. His touch gave me goosebumps, the good kind. I mean, really? Come on, inappropriate feelings. Here? Now?
He let go of my hips and said something.
I was light-headed from his touch, too busy focusing on reprimanding my body, to hear him. I managed, “Huh?”
“Try now,” he repeated.
“Try what?” I asked, flustered.
He smiled, leaned in closer to me. “Anything you want, whenever you want.”
Gulp. He straightened up, still smiling, still resting his hands on my hips. I had to do something. I had to act fast before I did something stupid. My body was threatening to win, my mind had … to … do … something …
Panic must have given me a jolt of super strength because I hurled him over my hip with ease and he landed on the ground with a thud. The momentum of it made me lose my balance, and I fell to the floor beside him. I giggled. I couldn’t help it. My excitement from doing it right had done the trick and I was free from those bad, bad, bad thoughts.
“And what’s so funny?” asked Cole’s nails-on-chalk-board voice.
I dusted myself off—an odd thing to do since there was zero dust here—and stood up. “Nothing.”
“It must have been something,” Cole countered.
I decided to be honest, well mostly. No sense bringing Junie and how he had made me feel into it. “I can’t believe I did it. It feels good.”
“Feels good?” he questioned.
The toss had for sure, not to mention the part-we-shall-not-speak-of, so I nodded. Worst decision of my life.
“Well, then let’s make sure everyone gets to feel good,” he said with a hint of a smile.
The rest of the class was spent letting the other students “feel good” tossing me around like a rag doll. Each one got specific instructions from Cole on how to modify the move in different, painful ways.
“Here’s how you do it for more height.” And then, “Here’s how you do it for more rotation.” And so on and so forth. He made Junie do it in the way that caused the most pain. Junie tried to do it wrong, but Cole made him repeat it until he got it right.
Here’s the thing, though: I learned to relax my body in the air and land relatively pain free, so after a bit I was almost enjoying myself. By the end of the class I was actually having fun. I egged them on to toss me as high as they could. That odd sense of weightlessness had always made me smile; this felt like when I was a kid being tossed around the pool by my dad. Only the pool was a lightly padded floor now.
Cole didn’t seem happy, but I didn’t care. He wasn’t as scary to me anymore. Refusing to go full throttle on Junie told me that he feared what we (or at least Junie) would become. Cole was just a bully, nothing more.
After the tossing, we had our regular couple hours of circuit training in the massive track center. I left limping, bruised, and exhausted, but holy hell, conscious.
Driving, here I come!
MY HEART SANK AS I walked into the class. No cars. None. Just a bunch of big railcar-box-looking things spread across the room. I was too furious to pay attention to the instructor. I only caught snippets like “virtual reality” and “immersive.” It was crap. A video game?!?! A freaking video game?!? The disappointment on my face was mirrored by the others. Everyone was pissed.
Final instructions were to team up and get to it. Today we were to learn the basics of driving while we followed a car through a town. Simple. Easy. Stupid. Oh, and might I add, FAKE! I wish Cole had knocked me out earlier to save me from the disappointment of this garbage. I trudged after Junie toward a dumb box.
It was about thirty feet long, ten feet high and about twenty feet wide too. Junie pressed a button on the outside of the box and a door slid open.
Inside sat a full-size black sedan. It looked like a cop car. Not even a fun car to pretend-drive, like a Porsche or something. Lame.
“Want to go first?” Junie asked me. He sounded as unhappy as I felt.
“This is stupid,” I mumbled and walked around the car to the passenger side and got in.
“I’ll take that as a no,” he said and climbed into the driver’s side.
Now, I hadn’t been at FATE that long, but I had been there long enough to know that this place had some pretty amazing gadgets. Why I’d assumed this would not apply here was stupid on my part. The moment his door went thunk we were no longer in a dimly lit box, but sitting in a car on the side of the road surrounded by a forest.
I gasped. It was so real. If I hadn’t known I was actually in a box I would have believed I’d escaped the training center. I looked over at Junie and shared a holy hell look.
I rolled down the window and felt a breeze that matched the fluttering of the leaves on the trees. Birds chirped. I listened to the trees speak to each other as they swayed back and forth. I took a deep breath. Even the air smelled like forest: clean and leafy and cool. My heart stirred faintly. It was familiar. It all reminded me of home.
“Soooo,” I said in that way that means you want something.
“Yeah,” Junie said.
I gave my finest sad puppy dog performance as I asked, “Can I drive first?”
Junie rolled his eyes. “Okay. You’ll have to climb over me though.” He started to slide toward me so we could perform the awkward dance of switching places when a green car zoomed past us down the road. It was the one we were supposed to follow. We froze, both deciding if we had enough time to do this. We didn’t.
“Never mind, just go,” I said, collapsing back in the passenger seat.
“You sure?” he asked.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” I lied.
Junie slid back over to the steering wheel and put his seat belt on … in a fake car. It was cute. But man, it looked and felt so real! The engine revved, and when Junie accelerated, it felt like we were really moving down a road. The wind rushing through the open windows matched the speed. I closed my eyes for an instant. It ruffled my hair. I made a wing with my hand, like I used to in the car back home. I missed this.
I don’t know if we were following an old woman, or if it was supposed to be this easy since it was our first lesson, but the pursuit was painfully slow. Within moments, we were practically tailgating. So I did what I do best: I rested my cheek against my arm, let the wind blow through my hair, and zoned out.
I was snapped out of it when Junie said, “All right. Pay up. Where are you from?”
I was ready to drag it out, to play coy, but when we bumped over a small dip in the pavement, it hit me. There was a reason this all felt so familiar. I knew this road. I knew it like an old book. There’s a sharp right coming up. Seconds later we rounded the bend and hit that turn. The trees began to thin, revealing a town I knew all too well.
My throat caught. My eyes began to sting. Not here. Not anymore. Katie’s words didn’t work. A tear fell from my lashes. I shook my head.
Junie, thinking he’d done something wrong, backpedaled. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me.” His nervous eyes flashed between the car in front of us and me. “I didn’t mean it.”
I took a deep breath and choked out, “No. It’s … I’m from here.” The dam broke and I began to sob. I never thought I’d see this place again, let alone so soon and like this. I wasn’t ready for it. It was a cruel joke. It had to be. This was no coincidence.
Junie didn’t know what to do so he focused on following the green car, like he was supposed to. At least he didn’t try to calm me down or touch me. But part of me could have used a good hug. I wiped my eyes and smiled as I imagined him trying to give me another high five.
We slowly cruised by the bank that sat on the corner of the main square. The initial rush of emotion had passed. The tears were still flowing, but I was quiet.
“So where are we?” Junie asked me.
I kept looking out the window, afraid to look at him. “Amherst.”
“It’s pretty,” he said.
“It’s home,” I said softly.
“Where’s your house?” he asked.
“To the left,” I answered, barely audible.
The car we were following turned right. Junie turned left.
I flinched and sat upright. “Where are you going?” I demanded, whirling to face him.
“I’m taking you home.” He flashed a small smile before focusing on the road again.
“Junie, don’t. We’ll get in trouble. Turn around.” Part of me wanted him to keep going, of course. But the other part of me was terrified.
“No. I’m taking you home. They can punish me however they want. It’s my call, not yours. Now where am I going?”
It was a bad idea. A horrible idea. But in the end, I couldn’t say it wasn’t what I wanted. If they were going to screw with me like this, I had to see how far they were willing to take it. If they could recreate everything they’d stolen from me with the same accuracy. I reached over and hugged him. Not how I wanted our first non-training physical contact to be, but whatever. He reached over and held my hand, gently squeezing it for support as we drew closer and closer to my house. Each turn that took us closer was an exercise in keeping it together.
When we turned onto my road my stomach did a flip. Would it look the same? Everything else had, but could my own home stand up to that intimate level of scrutiny? Would my mother’s rose bushes have the right shape? Would the tree I fell out of when I was nine have the missing branch?
I wasn’t sure what I was feeling but as Junie pulled up outside my house I couldn’t breathe. They’d gotten it right, everything, down to the tiniest detail I could imagine. I forgot it was all fake. I forgot I was in a box, no longer living my old life. I forgot who was in charge. I wanted to see my mother. Without thinking I opened the door.
Everything went black.
“No!” I yelled. “No. I’m sorry!” I said again as I shut the door. Fake or not, I wanted it back. But the simulation was over. The inside of the box became dimly lit by some ambient light, and the box’s exit door slid open.
Junie and I shambled out of the simulator. My legs were shaky. The moment we stepped into the room I knew something was off. It was silent and there was no one else. Where were our classmates?
Three dark-clad attackers rolled out from behind one of the other driving boxes in front of us. I was behind Junie as they approached.
One of them, with a heavy accent I couldn’t place, snapped, “Should have kept following the green car.”
Junie quickly turned to me. “Ren, go. Run.”
I shook my head, snapping out of the daze they’d put me in. “I’m not leaving you.”
“Please, go.”
Maybe I should have listened to him. They attacked with speed, precision, and intent to harm. Two went after Junie. The one who’d spoken came at me. I was no match, not even close, and was tackled to the ground with ease. I was expecting to get punched, elbowed, or worse, but it didn’t happen. My attacker was suddenly lifted off of me and thrown into a driving box like a rag doll. Junie, eyes flashing with rage, had done it. But that gave his attackers the opportunity they needed. Maybe in a few years it would have been a better fight but it wasn’t right now. One swept his legs as the other kicked him across the chest. He crashed to the ground in a heap.
I got up to help but only made it a few steps before something, I think it was a foot, or a lead pipe, cracked me in the head. For the third time in a week, I lost consciousness. But this time, it almost felt like a blessing.
ONCE AGAIN, I CAME to in the hospital, lying on my back. Three days out of seven I’d ended up in here. At this rate they should just move me down here permanently and give my room to someone who might use it more.
I stared up at the ceiling as I tried to work through how I’d ended up here. It was all very fuzzy after the car chase. Too groggy to think, I rolled over to go back to sleep. When the side of my head brushed the pillow a sudden pain under my ear triggered my memory and it all came back. A flash of Junie being beaten, pleading with me to run.
I shot out of bed and ripped open the curtains to my left. A startled girl nursing a broken arm jumped.
“Sorry,” I said as I closed them. I stumbled around my bed and whipped the other curtains open.
Oh, Junie … He was a mess. Both of his eyes were swollen shut, and he had a four-inch cut stitched-up above his ear. He stirred.
I sat on the edge of his bed and grabbed his hand. He gave a quiet groan through his swollen, cracked lips.
“It’s me, Ren,” I said softly. “I’m here. It’s okay.” I gently stroked his hand with my thumb like my mother had done to me when I was a kid. His hand squeezed mine back.
“You okay?” he forced out. His voice sounded like sandpaper.
“I’m fine,” I reassured him. “Shhh. Rest.”
“How bad is it?” he asked me.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Ren,” he pushed.
“You look like you shoved your head in a beehive,” I said, attempting to lighten the mood.
He managed a pained chuckle. “Ow. Don’t make me laugh. Nothing’s broken though, right?”
I looked him over. “Not that I can tell.”
“Well, at least I got that going for me.”
His breathing was labored, but steady. I thought he’d dozed off but a tear came out of his left eye. “I don’t know if I can do this,” he croaked. His voice was so soft I had to strain to hear it. More tears followed.
“You can’t say that,” I said, more frightened than I wanted to admit. “Not you. If you don’t think you can, then what about me?”
He squeezed his eyes tightly shut. “There’
s more to you than you give yourself credit for.”
“There isn’t, trust me. It’s less if anything.” I was crying now too.
“I’m just big and dumb.”
“No, you’re not. You’re smarter than you think. And you’re braver than all of us.”
“All an act,” he whispered, refusing to open his eyes. “I’m as scared as the rest of you.”
“You tried to save me,” I argued back.
“That’s ’cause it’s you, Ren. I …” He didn’t finish.
“We’re going to get through this together, okay?” I whispered back, trying to keep my voice from shaking. His last unfinished comment had torpedoed me.
His eyes fluttered open. “Only if you promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“The next time I tell you, ‘Please go,’ do it. I don’t care what happens to me. But seeing you get hurt is worse than anything they can do to me.”
I shook my head. “No, I can’t promise that. I can’t let you get hurt protecting me. I won’t do it.”
He took a deep labored breath. More tears. He closed his eyes again.
“I’ll give you that one,” I said, caving. “But you have to give me one too. We can each say it once, and the other has do it.”
“I’ll take what I can get.” He forced a pained grin. “Now, please go.”
“Hey!” I said loudly.
“Shhh, oh, ow,” he painfully laughed out. He opened his left eye a slit and looked at me. “Kidding. Will you stay with me for a while?”
“As long as you want.”
He squeezed my hand again, eyes still closed
AN HOUR LATER NOT-BETH arrived with a tray of shots.
“No,” I said to her seriously.
She pursed her lips. I knew it was not her decision, just her job, but I still had to try to stop her. “It’ll happen one way or another,” she said. Then she flicked her head behind her toward two guards at the far end of the hospital wing.
I gave a defeated nod, so she moved closer.
“Wait.” I walked over to my bed and began to drag it over next to Junie’s. All at once, it rose from the floor. I looked up and saw Not-Beth helping me.
