by Dylan Steel
“I know,” she said softly.
“And I thought you liked me too.” A hint of pain sparked behind his golden eyes.
“I do,” she admitted.
“So what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s—”
“Don’t do that.” He shook his head, a muscle jumping along his jaw. “Be honest with me. I don’t have to be a genius to know you have been avoiding me.”
Sage sighed, dropping her gaze. She studied the backs of her hands. “Maybe a little.”
“Why?”
She could hear the strain in his voice. Her eyes flicked upward, catching the wounded look on his face before he caught himself, plastering a neutral expression over it.
Her heart squeezed in her chest. “It’s not—you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“What, then?”
“It’s just—it’s hard,” she admitted. “I know how you feel about me, and I do care about you too. But everything could still change at graduation, and if we get too close… I—I don’t want it to hurt.”
“I told you. That won’t happen,” Nic said firmly. He set his hand over hers and gave it a small squeeze. “We’re a good match. Exactly the kind of pair Eprah wants.”
“I know.” She dropped her eyes and pulled her hand from his, dragging her finger along the edge of the tray. “But… I was with Cosmo when I got the news.”
“Oh.” Nic’s voice was flat, emotionless.
She was amazed at the effect one word could have on her. The way it sounded made her feel like someone seized everything inside her and twisted it all around, wrenching it painfully until she could no longer breathe.
Sage buried her head in her hands. “This is all just so messed up.”
His hand settled on her back, the warmth of it proving more comforting than she would’ve expected. “What is?” he asked gently.
She looked up again, gesturing. “This. Everything.” Her eyes shone with unspilled tears. “This is exactly what I was afraid of.”
Nic’s mouth parted slightly, confusion etched on his face.
“If we’re going to be paired, we need to be honest with each other.”
“I agree.” Nic nodded, looking at her expectantly.
Sage blew out a shaky breath, forcing herself to continue. “I’m not saying I loved him, but I did care about Cosmo too, and now I know we’re not going to be together…” Sage bit the inside of her cheek. “I know I didn’t know him that well, but… If it can hurt this much now—with someone I barely knew, then… Nic, I do know you. I’m just not sure I can handle it if we aren’t paired at graduation.” She blinked back tears, hoping he understood and that he wasn’t mad.
Nic didn’t say anything at first. He just sat beside her, silence stretching between them for an imperceptibly long time before he broke it.
“Remember when I told you I wanted to be with you no matter what?”
She nodded.
“That hasn’t changed. And I want you to want that too—and not just because we’re supposed to be paired.” He hesitated. “And I don’t want you to avoid us just because you’re worried we might not be paired at graduation.”
“But I—”
He shook his head. “I can’t force you to fall in love with me, Sage, but I want you to trust me. I want you to know you can trust me. And I want you to know I’ll be there for you even if—by some crazy chance—we aren’t paired at the end of all this.”
He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a familiar, small object. The cuff.
Her eyes widened. He’d tried to give it to her once before, and she’d objected then too. “Oh, Nic, I’m not—”
“No,” he said quickly. “I just wanted to you to know that I still had it. It’s yours. Whenever you’re ready, which I know isn’t right now.” He put it back in his pocket. “I’m sorry if I came on too strong before. I don’t want to scare you. I just—I want to be with you, and I’m really glad Eprah thinks it’s a good idea too.”
Sage released the breath she’d been holding and nodded. “I care about you too, Nic. And I think—eventually—I might like to have it. I think I just need more time,” she said, really hoping that was true. Nic was a good friend and a great guy, and she couldn’t deny the fact that her stomach filled with butterflies every time she was near him. She definitely had feelings for him, but those feelings were tempered with a heavy dose of fear and not a small measure of anger at Eprah for forcing her into something against her will—even if it was something she might like.
“We have time.” The corner of his mouth turned up as he brushed her hair back from her face. “We can take it slow.”
“I think I’d like that.” She smiled, slipping her hand into his. “A lot.”
3. INSTRUCTORS
“Agh!”
Sage’s elbow was bent so that her knuckles hovered just in front of her brow. Heat surged through her forearm, still stinging from the impact she’d just absorbed.
“Good follow-through,” she said encouragingly as she rubbed her arm, a little surprised. “Looks like you’ve been practicing.”
Alira beamed up at her proudly. “I have. I’ve been trying to do what she told me.” She pointed over Sage’s shoulder.
Sage fought back a grimace. She didn’t need to turn around to know who Alira was talking about. “Well, whatever she said, it’s good advice. You’re catching on quick.” She forced a smile. “Keep it up, and you’ll be a real contender in the tournament next year.”
“Really?” Alira’s eyes were wide with excitement.
“Really.” Sage’s grin was no longer forced. It may have taken awhile for Alira to come around to the idea of Bokja, but she seemed to be warming up to it a little more every day. Her eagerness for learning to fight was starting to remind Sage a little bit of herself when she was younger.
“You don’t think… Is there any way I could be in the tournament this year?” Alira looked up at her hopefully.
Sage stiffened. Her smile faded quickly. Maybe Alira’s newfound enthusiasm wasn’t such a great thing.
“Level Eights don’t usually participate in the tournament,” she said brusquely.
Alira’s brows scrunched together in confusion. “But Carnabel said you two were in the tournament when you were Level Eights.”
Sage glanced over her shoulder and caught a glimpse of Carnabel working with another student. She pursed her lips and looked back at Alira. “We shouldn’t have been,” she said. “It was part of a punishment, not an honor.”
“Oh.” Alira frowned. “That wasn’t how she made it sound.”
Sage fought back the urge to snort and shrugged instead. Of course, Carnabel would make their punishment sound like the greatest thing in all of Eprah. If given the chance, she’d probably do it all over again.
“What’d you do?” Alira asked.
Sage squinted at her thoughtfully as she decided exactly how she wanted to answer. “We—”
To her relief, Ms. Bax’s whistle rang out just then, interrupting the explanation she hadn’t wanted to offer in the first place.
“Nice effort, everyone! Time to clean up and then head to dinner.”
Sage shrugged again and nodded toward the changing rooms. “You heard her.”
“Ugh. Ok.” Alira sighed dramatically and turned to leave—but not before sticking out her lower lip in a silent pout.
Stifling a laugh, Sage shook her head and moved toward the edge of the practice mats. One of the less glamorous, unadvertised duties of being a student Bokja instructor was doubling as the room’s cleaning crew after the last class of the day had finished.
She grabbed a mop and dunked it in sanitizing solution before dragging it to the opposite corner of the room. It was a large space, and it took awhile to clean the whole thing. Fortunately, she and the other instructors could get started as soon as the Eights hit the changing rooms. And they didn’t have to redo anything as long as they left a clear path for the kids’ exit—something they’
d learned the hard way after mopping up wet footprints the first week.
As the last of the Eights disappeared behind the changing room doors, Sage plunked the end of the mop down and got to work alongside the others. The student Bokja instructors’ assignments rotated through different days and classes, so sometimes she got to work with her better friends like Drue, sometimes even Nic. She didn’t always have to avoid Carnabel, especially not when Nic was around to run interference for her.
Today, however, she was in full-blown avoidance mode. She’d managed to avoid even making eye contact during class, and she just had to get through twenty minutes of cleaning before she was in the clear.
She should’ve known better.
A sudden sharp, stabbing pain ripped through her kidney.
“Ow!” She dropped the mop and arched backward, grabbing at the painful section of her back.
“Everything ok, Indarra?”
Sage gritted her teeth and spun around, still clutching her back. Carnabel stood facing her, gripping a mop low on its handle, leaving plenty of room at the tip. Perfect for a quick jab in the back. Her head was tilted as she looked at Sage in amusement.
“You look like something’s wrong.” Carnabel’s lips curled back in a sneer.
Anger bubbled under Sage’s skin. She knew she should ignore her and get back to work. Then, she could just leave and get away from the psycho standing next to her. That would be the reasonable thing to do.
But she really wanted to wipe that stupid smirk of Carnabel’s face. It wasn’t like it would be the first time they’d fought—but they were both Kunbriat now, bonded to each other’s best interests. They were basically required to get along. Not to mention that the threat of being shunned constantly hung over both their heads if they got caught in another fight. She had everything to lose by engaging in her dumb vendetta and absolutely nothing to gain.
Anger won.
“Are you serious right now?” Sage snapped. “You stabbed me with that thing.” She gestured toward the mop. “What is your problem?”
A look of surprise flitted across Carnabel’s face, replaced quickly by satisfaction. She crossed her arms. “My problem is you, Indarra. Always has been.”
“Why?” Sage blurted out the question without thinking.
“Like it matters.” Carnabel scoffed. “I mean, look at you.”
“No, really, what have I ever done to you? How have I so greatly wronged you that you want to make my life so miserable?” Her hands clenched into fists at her side as her face grew redder. “I think you at least owe me an explanation.”
“You want an explanation? How ‘bout this: You stole the only guy I like.” Carnabel shook her head with a look of disgust. “You ruined my life.”
Sage let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s not like I planned to ruin your life. And it’s not like I had any say in it.”
“Of course not. It just happened. None of it’s your fault,” Carnabel said condescendingly. Her eyes narrowed. “Except that you and I both know that they’re always paying attention, and apparently, they liked the way you two look together.”
“That’s not my—”
“I hate that you two are paired,” Carnabel snapped.
Sage’s lips parted in surprise. If it had been anyone else, she’d have felt sorry for her. “Look, Carnabel, I didn’t pick my pair any more than you did. I can’t change it.” She stood a little taller. “And even if I could, I wouldn’t.”
Carnabel’s locked onto hers. A wildness lay behind her eyes, a fervor that chilled Sage to the core. “You may not be willing to do anything about it, but I am.”
She turned to leave, but Sage panicked and grabbed her arm. “You know you can’t do anything about it,” she whispered. “We’re both Kunbriat.”
Carnabel wrenched her arm free. “I may not be able to harm you directly, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do anything about your pair,” she said through clenched teeth. “And believe me, I will.”
Sage searched her face, looking for some sign that this was all a big bluff, just Carnabel blowing off some jealous steam.
If Carnabel was bluffing, she was doing a good job. Her expression remained flatly defiant, hard as ice.
“Ladies?” Ms. Bax’s voice echoed across the room, interrupting them. “Is there a problem here?”
“No,” they answered in unison, not looking up.
“Good. Then please get back to work.”
The two girls ignored the undercurrent of a warning in her tone and continued staring at each other a moment longer. Sage’s eye twitched as she maintained her stony facade. She didn’t want to be the first to look away.
Carnabel leaned a little closer. “One way or another, I’m going to make sure he doesn’t wind up with you,” she hissed under her breath. Flashing her a final threatening look, she tightened her grip on the mop and strode several paces away, going back to work.
Sage swallowed hard. There was nothing Carnabel could do. Students had no real say in any of their assignments, and pairings rarely changed between now and graduation.
Besides, Nic had been so certain that they’d be paired. He’d already been right about it once. And he wanted it. Despite whatever illusions she was suffering from, Carnabel couldn’t change his mind. She couldn’t change the way he felt about her.
Gritting her teeth, Sage picked the mop back up and dragged it along the ground, letting her tension fade into the background. Carnabel was psychotic. That was all there was to it.
Sage and Nic would be paired, and there was absolutely nothing any of them could do to change that.
4. THE TRIP
Strumming her fingers along the edge of her databook, Sage reread the assignment for the third time. She still wasn’t thrilled to have been partnered with Everett for all of her Cabinet Studies assignments, but her distraction tonight stemmed more from her recent conversation with Carnabel.
It had been a couple weeks since she’d promised to split Sage and Nic up by graduation, and there hadn’t been so much as another whisper about it, but the whole situation had her a little on edge. As she’d learned over the years, Carnabel wasn’t one to make empty threats.
Everett cleared his throat, interrupting her fifth read-through of the assignment.
Right. They were supposed to be working on this together. Another presentation, a lot like their last one, covering more details of their rights and privileges and acceptable reasons for stripping Chances. By the end of the year, she would basically be a walking databook of information about the System of Worth.
Everyone everywhere should be so jealous.
Sage rolled her eyes at herself. Focus.
He shot her a sideways glance. “So, uh… is the new databook ok?”
She frowned, looking down. “This? It’s not exactly new anymore.”
“I know, it’s just—you’ve been staring at it for the last five minutes like it told you it was planning to ruin your life.” He lifted an eyebrow.
Nope, that’d been Carnabel.
“No, just thinking about—” She stopped herself. It was probably best not to share the details of Carnabel’s threats with Everett. “—our pairings. Got distracted.” She set the databook down on the couch beside her and stretched.
“Oh. Those.” He pursed his lips sympathetically and then nodded toward the databook, quickly changing the subject. “Sorry again. For wrecking your last one.”
“I know. You can really stop saying that. It’s fine.” Sage shrugged, biting back the worst of her sarcasm. “It’s not like it’s any different from my old one.”
“Right.” He paused. “So are you ready to divide up research topics, or…?” he trailed off, waiting for her answer.
“Uh, sure.” Sage picked her databook back up and skimmed over the assignment. “You wanna take the second half?”
“Sure.” Everett glanced back down at the list of questions and snorted. “Huh, I’ve always wondered what would happen to someone if they tried to fo
rcibly remove their bracelet.”
“What?”
“Right here.” He pointed to his screen, tilting it in her direction.
“Oh.”
“You really didn’t read this, did you?”
Sage gave him a sheepish look.
He laughed and shook his head. “Pretty sure it’s—”
Another Sixteen girl appeared behind them suddenly, interrupting. “Everett,” she purred.
“Oh, hi, Savannah,” Everett said.
The slightly plump blonde was staring expectantly at Everett, as if waiting for more than a simple greeting.
Sage’s glance shot back and forth between the two of them. She didn’t know who Savannah was, but she noticed his smile was forced.
Savannah didn’t. She walked around the couch, plopping herself in his lap without asking for permission.
“I missed you.” She pouted, wrapping her hands around his neck. “I thought we were going to spend some time together tonight.”
“I told you. I can’t tonight. I’m working on an assignment.”
“But you’re always doing that,” she whined.
“That’s because the instructors keep assigning things.” Everett sighed and peeled her hands off his neck. “Savannah, this is Sage.” He nodded toward Sage. “She’s counting on me to pull my weight with this assignment. It wouldn’t be fair to put pair time first.”
“Oh, Ever-y, you’re always working on classes.” She stuck out her lower lip. “You never have time for me.”
Sage’s eyebrow shot up. She suppressed a grin. This wasn’t funny. It shouldn’t be. Everett was stuck with Savannah as his pair, and while she wasn’t the biggest fan of the guy, she certainly wouldn’t wish a miserable pairing on anyone.
“My fault,” Sage said, coming to his rescue. “I told Everett we had to stick to a strict schedule for this class.” She shrugged apologetically. “There’s just so much to do, we don’t really have time for, uh, pair time.”
Thank you, he mouthed from under Savannah’s arm.
Savannah glared at Sage, then turned back to Everett. “Fine. But you have to at least come say goodnight before bed.”
