by Dylan Steel
That wasn’t a good sign.
Pushing her way past the others, Sage stumbled into the hall after him. She looked both ways, trying to see which way he could’ve gone, but the halls were already filling with others getting out of their Interests too. Her shoulders tensed. She’d lost him.
Biting her lip, she set off in one direction, looking for him while trying to calm herself down. Maybe she was making a bigger deal out of this than she should. She’d been careful. The odds were good that he hadn’t seen anything. And techs were usually a little awkward, which would explain his strange behavior. Yeah. That was all it was.
No way was she going to find him in this crowd, though. Resigned, she stopped in the middle of the hall and turned back, heading in the direction of the Common Lounge. She didn’t know the guy’s name or even what level he was in, so she’d just have to wait until their next session together to find out if he’d seen anything. And that would give her a chance to figure out how to bring it up without admitting what she’d done.
Hopefully, if he had seen something, he wouldn’t know exactly what it was. And if he did, maybe he wouldn’t tell anyone. After all, he hadn’t exactly run straight to Mr. Messer.
Sage took a deep breath, forcing herself to relax. She was worried about him saying something, but he’d already passed up the first, most obvious opportunity he’d had to snitch.
She was probably blowing the whole thing out of proportion. There was nothing to worry about.
17. GOODNIGHT
“Finally!”
Nic held Sage’s hand tight as he pulled her through the door, letting it swing closed behind them. He didn’t let go until they’d sprinted halfway across the roof.
“Nic, slow down!” Sage gasped for breath as she stumbled along behind him, slipping on gravel. “We’re here—we made it.”
When he turned around, his gold eyes sparkled with mischief. “I know. I just don’t want to waste any time.”
“You’re—”
He cut her off with a kiss, crushing his lips against hers as he drew her body to his.
“—crazy,” she breathed when he finally released her.
The corners of his mouth turned up in a grin as he pushed back a lock of her hair. “Probably. But it’s worth it.”
“So why did we have to sprint up a million flights of stairs?”
“I like seeing your face turn all red. It’s adorable. And you’re getting harder to embarrass, so…”
Sage’s lips parted in surprise. She was positive her face managed to turn an even deeper shade of red—which should have been impossible after running up the staircase.
“Nic,” she said simply, the slightest protest in her tone.
“Ok, maybe that wasn’t the whole reason.”
She raised an eyebrow in question.
“We never really get time alone, and I thought it’d be nice.”
“You couldn’t have waited two more weeks until graduation?” she teased. “We’ll have plenty of time alone then.”
“Two and a half,” he corrected her. “And no. That’s way too long.”
“So we had to run?”
“Like I said, I didn’t want to waste any time.” He grinned, his eyes settling on hers with an intensity that made her draw in a sharp breath. Flecks of gold and green mixed together until neither one of them seemed distinct anymore.
Sage blinked, drawing back. “I don’t think running buys us any time.”
“Maybe not technically. But it gives us more time up here. And I didn’t want to risk running into any instructors,” he admitted. “We’re not exactly supposed to be here, and I don’t have any Fourteens playing lookout tonight.”
“You’re not making anyone finish one last trial tonight? Shocking,” she said sarcastically.
“Not for this at least.” He winked. “They’re well-meaning, but I didn’t want any interruptions.”
“You could have told them that. I’m sure they wouldn’t—”
He pressed his lips to hers again suddenly, stopping her again.
She pulled back, swatting him playfully. “For someone who doesn’t want interruptions, you’re a pretty bad offender.”
“The worst,” he murmured, rubbing his thumb over the edge of her ear. He frowned. “Why aren’t you wearing your cuff?”
“Oh! I forgot.” Sage fished around in her pocket. Her fingers brushed the necklace as well, but she ignored it, only pulling out the small piece of jewelry he’d given her. “I took it off for Bokja.” She fastened it to her ear and smiled. “Better?”
“Much.” He snaked his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. “I want to make sure everyone knows you’re mine.”
Sage stiffened a little. “Nic…”
“I know, I know.” He cupped her cheek in his hand. “But graduation’s almost here, and there’s no reason to think we won’t be paired. We will be.”
“I know you think we make sense, but there’s still a chance they’ll change their minds.”
“They won’t.”
“You don’t know that,” Sage said, her frustration building.
“Ok. You’re right,” he said soothingly. He traced a finger along her cuff. “But we can be together even if we’re not paired. Don’t you want that?”
“I…” She bit her lip, looking away. If she had to be assigned to somebody—and she did—Nic was a good choice. She knew that. But she still wanted to be the one to make that choice. Her. Not Eprah.
“Sage?” His voice cracked, betraying his concern.
She glanced up to meet his eyes and instantly wished she hadn’t. Her heart sank. Pain was etched across his face as he waited for her to answer him.
“I’m not saying I don’t want that,” she said hurriedly, trying to reassure him. “You know how I feel about you. I just wish…”
“What?” His eyebrows bunched together with worry.
“I wish I could know we’d choose each other even if Eprah hadn’t.”
“You don’t know?” He ran his thumb over her cheek, his voice strained as he spoke. “I know. This is my choice. You’re my choice. That’s why the pairing doesn’t matter. Even if something crazy happens and we’re not assigned to each other, I know I still want to be with you.”
Sage licked her lips and tried to look away, but Nic held her chin gently in place.
“You’re not sure you’d want to be with me if Eprah hadn’t paired us?”
“I… There’s still so much we don’t know about each other.” she stammered, guilt eating away at her.
“What more do you want to know? You already know my biggest secret. I’m Kunbriat. So are you,” he said softly, brushing his fingers over her hip where the brand was hidden.
Pleasant tingles shot up her side at his touch, but she swallowed, forcing herself to stay focused.
“That’s your biggest secret?” she asked. As soon as the words left her lips, she scolded herself mentally. Of course it was. Being Kunbriat was a huge secret, and most people hadn’t lived the double life she had.
“To everyone else. But obviously not to you.” He paused, frowning thoughtfully. “I don’t want us to have any secrets from each other, Sage. Ask me anything.”
A hundred thoughts tumbled through her mind at once, but her mouth couldn’t form a question right away. She stared back at him blankly, then finally managed to say, “You tell me. What don’t I know?”
Nic was quiet for a moment, staring at the ground. “I never told you about my parents, did I?”
Sage looked at him in surprise. “Your parents?”
“Yeah. Crazy, right?” He waved his hands in an exaggerated circle and laughed. “I actually knew them.”
“Oh. Wow,” she said, blinking in confusion. “But you were in the Transitional Class.”
He gave her a funny look. “Exactly. Like you.”
She frowned, tilting her head in an unspoken question.
“Sage, pretty much everyone in the Transitional Class knew a
t least one of their parents. That’s usually why we wound up there. You knew that, right?”
Her brows furrowed. “But…”
“My parents weren’t Lawless, if that’s what you’re worried about. They were too smart for that.”
Well, that stung. He continued, not even realizing he’d just insulted her. “Most kids that wind up in a Transitional Class had tutors that didn’t prepare them well enough—or couldn’t, if the kid just had trouble. Sure, every once in awhile, there’s a Rogue or Lawless kid that winds up in there, but mostly, it’s tutored kids, like me.”
“Oh. Right.” Sage nodded, shoving aside the slight. “I guess I never really thought about that.”
“I mean, don’t get me wrong—it’s not like my parents were benefactors or anything. But between the two of them, they could afford a tutor for me when I was young. They had pretty decent jobs, and they’d been paired together when they graduated too.” He slid her a brief, meaningful look. Her cheeks flushed.
“And I was kind of a weird kid.” He grinned sheepishly. “I really liked my tutor, and my parents were pretty great.” He trailed off, a faraway look in his eyes. “I honestly never expected to wind up at the Institution.”
“So how did you?” Sage held her breath. She had a bad feeling about his answer.
“Like I said, between the two of them, they could afford a tutor for me.” A muscle jumped in his jaw. “But when my mom didn’t come home one day, paying for a tutor wasn’t an option anymore.”
“Oh, Nic…” Sage set a hand on his arm.
“We got a notice from Beautification the next day. They said they had to wait to contact us until after she’d been processed.” He cleared his throat. “My dad never told me what she did, why she—” He hesitated. “I’m not sure if he even knew. But I joined the Transitional Class a week later.”
Silence stretched between them for what felt like hours.
“I’m sorry about your mom,” Sage finally said quietly.
“Don’t be. Whatever she did, she had to have known the consequences.” Nic blinked, looking away. Sage didn’t miss the fact that his eyes had filled with tears, though none of them spilled.
“Even so,” she said, choosing her words carefully, “it’s still hard to lose a parent.”
Nic shrugged, dragging a hand down his face. “Yeah, I guess.” He let out a strangled laugh. “No one’s ever told me that before.”
Sage bit her lip. It wasn’t the first time she’d been told her empathetic reaction to the news of a dead parent was unusual.
“Have you seen your dad since then?”
“Technically. I’ve seen him a couple times at the Grand Hall. Founders’ Day and Bokja, ya know? He still sits in the same spot.”
“You’ve seen him. But… you haven’t talked?”
He shook his head. “There’s nothing to say. We were never really that close. I spent most of my time with my tutor, and after I’d started at the Institution, I got sort of used to not seeing him.”
“Oh.” Sage’s brow furrowed. She couldn’t imagine not talking to her parents again if she saw them walking around Eprah.
“I don’t miss him if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“I guess it was,” she admitted, still not fully understanding why that was so strange. Her childhood must have been very different than his.
“I’m fine now. Really.” Nic paused, frowning. “I guess I never asked you why you were there. In the Transitional Class, I mean. Did you lose your tutor partway through the year too?”
Here we go.
Sage’s heart began racing as she considered how much to share. This wasn’t just some flighty schoolgirl worry about whether or not her crush would still like her—this was a matter of life and death. If this changed how Nic felt about her, she wouldn’t be able to slip up in the slightest while they were paired. She’d have to be on her guard more than ever—even more than she was now.
On the other hand, if she told him about part of her past and he didn’t look at her in disgust, maybe their relationship could actually work. Maybe it could even work long term. Her stomach fluttered hopefully at the thought.
“Sage?”
She met his gaze, taking a deep breath. She’d made her decision.
“Not exactly.”
“Not exactly?” Nic laughed. “How does that work?”
“I mean,” she swallowed, “I never had a tutor.”
“Then, how did you—” he stopped as soon as he noticed the terrified look on her face. He pulled her closer, enveloping her in his arms. “Oh, hey, Sage, it’s ok. Whatever it is, it’s ok.”
Maybe she could tell him. Maybe he’d understand.
“It’s not,” she choked, fighting back tears with her face pressed against his chest.
“Hey,” he murmured, stroking her hair as he whispered in her ear. “I love you, Sage Indarra. Nothing’s going to change that.”
At those words, she melted completely under his touch. He loved her. Nothing’s going to change that.
“Oh, Nic, I—”
He stopped her. “It’s ok. You don’t have to say anything right now.”
“That’s exactly it. I’m scared if I tell you—if I let myself care too much…” She stopped abruptly, her lip quivering.
“What? I’m not going anywhere, Sage.” He squeezed her harder. “Don’t think about the pairing. It doesn’t matter. I’m right here.”
Sucking in a shaky breath, she forced herself to continue. “Bad things happen to people I care about. My parents died, and…” Lita and Mr. Walsh were imprisoned, not to mention the fact that the whole student body got stuck under house arrest while I was locked up in one of Sophia Bennick’s rooms. She shook her head as she fought back tears, not quite wanting to list aloud the people who’d been hurt in some way because of her.
“You think something bad’s going to happen to me too? If that’s what you’re worried about, don’t. Your parents are hardly a pattern,” Nic said gently. “And it wasn’t your fault they died any more than it was my fault my mom died. They knew the rules, same as everyone.”
“Exactly,” she said, trembling. “They knew the rules, and they chose not to follow them.” She hesitated, then forced herself to lift her chin and meet his eyes. As much as she dreaded it, she needed to see his reaction. “Nic, they were Lawless. I-I didn’t even know what that meant until I showed up here. I wound up in the Transitional Class because my parents were killed.”
He didn’t say anything right away, just gaped at her in shock. “You…”
“I’d never even heard of Eprah before they died,” she added quickly.
He shook his head slowly. “Incredible,” he breathed.
That was definitely not on the list of reactions she’d expected.
“What?”
“You,” he said, staring at her in awe. “I had no idea. You’ve come so far—you’re on track to be such a productive citizen.”
She let out a breath. “I’m trying.”
“And to think—they must have given you such a messed up idea of Eprah. It’s amazing.” He pulled her closer. “You’re amazing.”
An uneasy feeling settled over her. She couldn’t shake it. He was being so understanding, but not for the reasons she’d hoped.
“I—”
“You don’t need to explain.” He held her tighter. “I understand why you kept it a secret, but you shouldn’t be ashamed of it. If anything, you’re more amazing than I thought before. It must’ve been hard for you to realize how wrong they were, but you did. And you’ve really thrown yourself into becoming the best citizen you can be. It’s…” he trailed off, searching her eyes eagerly. She tried not to squirm under his gaze.
Her heart sank. This wasn’t going quite like she’d wanted it to. The Lawless had betrayed her trust, but that didn’t mean they were worse than Eprah. But that’s exactly what Nic thought.
“I’m so glad you’re my pair,” he finally said, nuzzling the top
of her head.
“I know,” she said softly, hoping he wouldn’t notice her discomfort. She felt like all her dreams had just been shattered around her. It had been foolish to think that he might not take Eprah’s side—he’d been completely molded by this world. She swallowed, reminding herself that Nic was still a good guy—still probably her best option.
Of course he didn’t realize that he’d hurt her—she’d played her role well over the years. To him—to nearly everyone else—she was the model citizen.
“As for whether or not you’re some sort of bad luck charm,” Nic continued, “you shouldn’t worry about it. If your parents really were Lawless, they were lucky to have lived as long as they did. Besides,” his voice hardened a little, “we really shouldn’t mourn those who betray Eprah.”
Sage clenched her jaw. This was exactly why she couldn’t completely open up to Nic, even though she wanted to. He represented everything Eprah ever hoped for its citizens—obedient, blindly loyal—and in his mind, he was exactly like her.
“I know you’re right,” she forced herself to say. “But it didn’t feel like it when I was seven, and I didn’t know about Eprah then.” She chose her words carefully. Just because they weren’t being watched on the roof didn’t mean she could say whatever she wanted. Nic’s loyalty to Eprah was strong, and she wasn’t ready to test the full extent of it quite yet. “It’s hard for me to remember them any differently than how I knew them then—even if I know better now.”
“That’s understandable.” His fingers trailed down her shoulder. She shivered. He murmured in her ear, “But you have me now, and I’ll always be here to remind you. Make sure you don’t forget who they really were. And who you are now.”
“Yeah.” She wasn’t about to correct him, but he didn’t have a clue who she was now.
“Well,” he said softly, grinning, “are there any more secrets you’d like to share with me?”
“No.” She smiled faintly, letting herself slip back into the same lies she always told. “That just about covers it.”
After that reaction, she definitely wasn’t going to tell him that she’d once been a member of the Lawless. Or that she didn’t think Eprah was as great as everyone wanted them to believe.
