The Geneva Project - Truth

by Christina Benjamin

  I led Sparrow back over to the others and we filled them in on what happened. They were just as upset as we were. We were hastily discussing what options we may have to get Sparrow her solo back when Miss Sprigg rushed backstage, clearing her throat to try to get our attention.

  “Gather ‘round please! I said, gather ‘round!” she squeaked, stomping her foot to gain our focus.

  “Everyone please line up with your year, we’re getting ready to begin any moment now.”

  Nova rolled his eyes at Miss Sprigg’s dramatics, trying to lighten our tense mood; but the way he squeezed my hand as he departed our little circle told me he was just as concerned as I was. I sighed and relented to follow the others to line up with our year. I saw Jemma trot over to our year, smiling from ear to vicious ear as she took Sparrow’s spot along side Remi. My face burned and I gritted my teeth so hard with hatred for her that I was sure they would break. I was so angry with myself that despite all these special powers that I had, there was nothing I could do to her. There was no way to get Sparrow her part back and give Jemma what she deserved. Not if I wanted to protect Niv. The only thing I had going for me was that it seemed that Jemma thought Niv belonged to Sparrow. At least she didn’t know he was mine. I couldn’t even fathom how she would plot to use him against me. Yet she still had me cornered, even if she didn’t know it. At this very moment, I was beginning to understand the dangers of tethering my soul to Niv. Still, I knew I didn’t really have a choice. Now I just had to do what was necessary to keep him protected. Well, both of us protected.

  “Curtains!” came Miss Sprigg’s high, nasally voice, and a foreboding hush fell over us. Leaving me shivering with a rush of goose bumps. She gave a little nod and then quietly said the same thing she said every year, but this time it held a different meaning for me.

  “Let it begin!”

  Chapter 46

  I stood quietly next to the other Johns and Janes in my year, feeling isolated and alone since I was separated from my friends. It almost felt like just another Gala, standing alone in the dark, terrified of what was ahead. But this time it wasn’t the singing or stage fright that had me in a cold sweat. I was so busy concentrating on keeping Niv and my shoulder bag invisible that I didn’t have any time to be nervous about those trivial things. It was Journey’s idea to use the vanishing trick to keep Niv hidden. It seemed like the safest route because we all felt a bit uncomfortable leaving Niv unattended in my bag backstage. There were so many people around and we still didn’t know how Jemma found him in the first place. Keeping him with us was the only way to know for sure that he was safe. The only problem was that I had to do it. Remi was the best at it, but he had a solo to do, so I was the only other option. Normally I shouldn’t have so much trouble with it, but for some reason it was taking much more concentration than usual. Maybe it was because I was distracted by Jemma’s giggling. Each time she laughed it sounded like she was ringing little bells of victory in my ears. I took deep breaths to calm myself and was thankful that it was almost our turn.

  Before I knew it, Miss Sprigg was scurrying around us, straightening our sashes, reminding us to stand up straight and smile. Then she ushered us forward. Normally I dreaded this moment, but it signaled that this awful event was almost over, so I welcomed the bright lights and loud applause as we marched onto the stage. The air was much cooler out here, and the sweat I had worked up felt like tiny beads of ice sliding cruelly down my spine. I shivered in the soft breeze that still carried the faint aromas that enchanted me upon our arrival. Below me was a sea of white and gold. From the height of the stage I couldn’t make out the faces of the citizens, only their glowing linens and jewels, brightly illuminated by the warm glow of thousands of candles and paper lanterns bobbing and flickering lazily in the soft wind.

  Moments after we took the stage the drumbeats started, then the strings and horns joined in and the sound swelled, drowning out any other thoughts I had. As soon as the music reached its peak, it was our queue to begin. I somehow managed to find my notes and muddle through the song. I can’t say I even knew what I was singing, but I assumed I was doing alright since the Janes to my left and right weren’t giving me any telling glares. I was thankful for all the practice sessions Sparrow put me through because my voice was able to operate on autopilot, while my mind concentrated on Niv. I was glad to be bunched up in the middle of the pack. It made me hard to see and eased my anxiety about anyone seeing Niv even if my focus slipped up. I felt his warm little body resting contently on my hip. It was comforting to have him so close. He always had a way of soothing me. I meditated on the steady thumping of his heartbeat and although it sounded more distant than it should, I found a way to relax a little more by melting into its beating rhythm.

  I was pulled back to where we were when I saw movement ahead of me. Jemma and Remi were emerging to the front of the stage to begin their solos. Jemma’s perfect black mane swayed effortlessly as she sauntered forward with the regal quality of royalty. I tried to avert my eyes and anger from her to only watch Remi. I focused on how proud I was that my best friend was getting his moment to shine. The smooth tone of his voice was beautiful. I never truly appreciated it until this very moment. His rich, warm tenor of melody hit my heart and seemed to make everything brighter. I felt lighter, like I could float along with his notes to anywhere they would take me. I leaned forward on the tips of my toes, straining for a glimpse of his face, but I could only see his profile. I wanted to share in this joyous moment with him, run to his side and hug him and tell him how wonderful he sounded. But my blissful moment was quickly shattered by the clear, sharp soprano that Jemma expertly delivered. I watched her take a step forward, trying to edge Remi out of view, but he surprisingly held his ground by taking a step of his own. Not to be outdone, Jemma took another step, but I watched in horror as Remi anticipated it and swiftly tucked his now invisible foot in her path, which sent her pitching forward. Her note flew high and off key as she fought to gain her balance—arms flapping—before her voice was finally silenced with a thud as she hit the hard floor of the stage, leaving only Remi’s voice to ring in the New Year as the Gala fireworks erupted and paper lanterns took flight, waking the sleepy night sky.

  Chapter 47

  Everything was exploding—the sky, my mind, Jemma’s fury. Luckily, not too many people seemed to notice Jemma’s fall since it perfectly coincided with the beginning of the fireworks. Even now, everyone’s faces were drawn skyward, watching the spellbinding eruptions of color and light. I could feel the aftershock of each explosion boom through my chest and I was struggling to tell whether the terror I was feeling on the inside was purely from my fear of the fireworks or that of Jemma’s wrath.

  Remi hadn’t even taken time to bow. He was back in the pack and we were struggling to get to each other as our year was corralled off stage. I tried to stay put while the other orphans funneled around me, but I kept getting swept up in the crowd. It didn’t help that I had to try to keep an invisible marmouse sheltered as well. I caught sight of Sparrow linking arms with Remi and I breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn’t alone and let myself get ushered backstage. It took a minute for my eyes to adjust to the dimly lit staging area again, and when I finally got my bearings in the swirling crowd of orphans I spotted Nova and ran straight into his arms. I couldn’t help myself. I was fighting so hard to keep everything together that when I felt him wrap his warm arms around me I melted, completely dissolving into the true mess I felt like inside.

  “Nova? What are we going to do?” I breathed into his chest. “Did you see what…”

  “I saw,” was all he said and then he pushed me back away from him and looked me in the eyes. “Are you sure you still want to do this?”

  All the fury and determination I felt when we fled the lockers returned, surging through my veins, fueled even stronger by Jemma’s wickedness tonight. It had to end tonight. No more excuses.

  “Yes.”

  Nova nodded at me as the others ar
rived. We all gave each other tense glances, but then Sparrow fell into a fit of giggles.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I hissed, starring at her wide-eyed. But then Remi dissolved into laughter as well and we all couldn’t help ourselves.

  “You’re mental, you know that?” I said, rolling my eyes at Remi as I tried to stifle my own laughter while giving him a playful shove.

  “I don’t even know what came over me. It just happened. But I wish you could have seen her face! I don’t know what part was better, the shock and fear as she fell, or the pure embarrassment when she got up?” Remi snorted.

  “Her voice was pretty great, too!” Journey added, grinning widely.

  “Alright, I agree it was funny, but we need to stay out of her way for now because she’s going to want revenge for getting embarrassed like that and we have more important things to worry about,” Nova added, bringing us all sharply back to reality.

  We recomposed ourselves and lined up for our final act of the night, the Troian Center Promenade. All the orphans had to line up by year and parade slowly across the stage showing the number boldly tattooed upon their shoulder, hoping some compassionate citizen would take pity on them and offer to adopt them. After an adequate time on stage we all bow and head back to the Troian Center, fading into the night, merely an afterthought to the citizens until the next year’s Gala deems us necessary again.

  I always hate this part of the evening. It feels so degrading to walk across the stage one by one, showing every angle, with the hope that someone will find you interesting. It made me feel so vulnerable and exposed. Like I said, I don’t hold out any hope that I’ll be fortunate enough to be adopted. In my experience the citizens only want babies or very, very young children that they can raise as their own. But by now, I’m sure their opinion of us is that we’re all a bunch of lost causes. Nothing more than lowly, dirty locals, living in squalor and doing the manual labor that they would never dream of participating in. It is interesting to see how some of the other orphans hold out hope still. They seem to have different strategies to get noticed. Most of the Johns will walk straight and tall and flaunt their muscular build, while others, mostly the Janes, will try to play on the sympathy of the citizens by looking meek and fragile, almost frightened. It’s hard for me to hold back my aggravation when I see this behavior from the same not-so-fragile Janes who help Jemma torment me daily. Jemma, for as much as I despise her, at least handles herself with dignity on the stage. She walks tall and proud and smiles brightly to the crowd, giving a little curtsy before she walks off.

  When it comes to my turn, I just try to get it over as quickly as possible, scurrying across the stage, spinning in my circle in the middle with a pause for a half-bow, before retreating to the darkness and safety of the curtains on the far side of the stage. I sigh, finally feeling relaxed knowing I made it through the evening, with Niv safely hidden and all of my friends still intact; so far. I’m sure Jemma would have more to say to us at the feast when we returned to the Center, but for now I was trying not to think about it. I breathed in the contentment I felt for surviving the night thus far, and took my final look at the sparkling city before we would depart on our journey back to the Troian Center.

  Chapter 48

  The way we exit Lux is never as grand as how we enter. We leave through a back door in the stage and file silently uphill along a white walled passageway until we reach the gate, where we unceremoniously filter out into the dark, cold night. The finality of the slamming gates rung freshly in our ears, reminding us that we are not part of this beautiful city we just visited. We will fade away from the citizens as unnoticed as the dissipating smoke from the fireworks.

  The walk home seems to go by quickly. Everyone is at ease with the performances behind them and they eagerly chatter to each other about the awaiting feast at the Troian Center. Orphans take wild guesses at what kind of treats will be served this year, making wagers and comparing favorites. The Johns tease about what types of creepy-crawlies might be covered in chocolate, making the Jane’s squeal and squirm. A debate about chocolate-covered civer ants versus chocolate-covered beetles has broken out and seems to be getting heated. Someone else is shouting that candied jellyfish beat both. Despite the happy mood of the group and the fact that I’m walking with Sparrow, Journey and Remi, I don’t feel much like celebrating. I’m not even looking forward to the deep-fried custard cakes that I dream of all year long. All I could think about was Niv and Jemma. My mind was still buzzing, unable to figure out how she found him in the first place, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that she had more in store for us tonight after the stunt that Remi pulled on the stage. I was keeping a keen eye on her bobbing raven head in the distance. As long as I could keep her in my sights I felt a little less panicked.

  Journey and Remi were still reliving Jemma’s fall even as we entered the courtyard. They were hooting and ribbing each other. Remi’s actions seemingly moved him up a notch in Journey’s opinion, and the two of them were in cahoots more than I’d ever seen. Sparrow was rolling her eyes, but every so often she’d let her composure slip and a giggle would escape her pursed lips. I was grateful when I felt Nova nearby. I headed in the direction from which I felt his presence, wanting to talk to him as soon as possible.

  “Quite a night, huh?” he said, eyebrows raised.

  “I don’t even know where to begin,” I said smiling back at him.

  Even with all the craziness that we just encountered and knowing there was surely much more in store for us tonight, Nova’s smile had a way of soothing me. For half a moment, I felt like everything was going to be alright.

  “You okay, Tippy?” he asked giving my shoulder a squeeze.

  “Yeah, I’m just a little shook up from everything that happened at the Gala I guess. I just want to get tonight over with. And I don’t want any more hiccups.”

  Nova studied my face, narrowing his piercing-green eyes a bit. This always made my skin burn hot, feeling his eyes studying me this intensely.

  “Tippy, what aren’t you telling me?” He asked. “What else happened?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, genuinely sure I wasn’t intentionally hiding anything from him at the moment.

  “I don’t know, I just feel like something’s off? Something’s got you spooked. What’d you see, a ghost or something?” he joked, giving me a little nudge with his shoulder.

  Just then my eyes lit up! The ghost! After all the commotion backstage, finding Niv, and Jemma tripping, I had totally forgotten about the figure I saw in the mirror.

  “Yes,” I gasped, feeling the icy gooseflesh race up my spine and spread out over my cheeks.

  “Jeez, I was joking with you, Tippy. What’s the matter?”

  “I think I really did see a ghost. I meant to tell you earlier so you could check it out, too, but I got so distracted. I found this mirror and when I looked at the reflection in it, it wasn’t mine. I… I think it was Nesia,” I whispered.

  “Okay, I think you might need to sit down or something.”

  “No, I’m not crazy. Nova, I know what I saw and it wasn’t me. The girl looking back at me wasn’t even a girl, she was a woman, and she was beautiful. She had perfect red lips and ice blue eyes that almost glowed, and her blond hair was even brighter than mine, and perfectly braided, and…”

  I stopped talking when Nova took my chin lightly in his hand, softly brushing his thumb over my parted lips. I held my breath, not knowing what was coming next. But he released me and showed me the red smudge on his thumb. I stared at it perplexed, as he lightly touched the crown of my head, releasing my wild blonde hair, cascading down my back.

  “Tippy,” he said quietly, “you were finally seeing yourself tonight. You saw what I see, what we all see. You are so beautiful,” he said reaching for my face again, inching his closer to mine, until I could feel his breath, warm against my skin.

  “No,” I whispered, “it wasn’t me…” but then I couldn’t finish, I was lost in Nova,
totally absorbed in his closeness, wishing his words were true, as they clouded the sharpness of the memory of what I thought I saw in the mirror. I wanted to give in, I wanted him to be right, because I longed to be that beautiful girl in the reflection, but I still had a feeling that my eyes had deceived me. I felt my breath catch as his lips drew closer to mine, and I closed my eyes. But before we could connect, the sharp gong rang out through the courtyard, startling us and signaling the beginning of our feast.

  Shrieks of excitement erupted, filling the courtyard and infusing the air with so much jubilation and hopefulness that it was hard to recognize the Center as the same orphanage we resided in daily. Nova smiled down at me and shrugged, suggesting we should head in as well. We followed the crowd into the brightly lit dining hall. This was the one time that we weren’t restricted to our normal order. It was such a chaotic scene that I had to laugh. Everywhere I looked there were orphans piling their plates with as much as they could carry, stuffing things in their mouths with sighs of delight, letting oozy syrups drip down their arms as they licked their fingers for every last drop of decadence. The scene was dizzying. The normally dim dining hall flickered to life with hundreds of candelabras atop our tables, which were covered in bright papers and tropical leaves. The whole scene was topped off by the strings of boldly colored lanterns draped with streamers hanging above our heads. This was by far the best day of the year at the Troian Center. It almost made the rest of the year seem bearable.

  I sighed when I spotted the rest of my friends, already enjoying the splendor of treats before them at our table. They were cheering each other sloppily with mugs of mulled cider. It made me feel hesitant to ruin this moment by making them come with me to get the book of secrets. Maybe it would be better to do it on my own and let them enjoy their meal.