CHAPTER THREE
I haven’t seen or spoken to Drew since a week ago on the train, and I’m beginning to forget his face. I know it’s only been a few days, but I’ve been thinking about him so much lately that his features have started to distort, and I get the feeling that no person could be as good-looking as the image I have of him. His green eyes and the way they shine in almost darkness, his muscled arms, and the leather band that he wears around one of his wrists are about the only things I know for certain. The rest is kind of warped in my head.
I’m worried about going back to school. I’m nervous about seeing Drew again and anxious about having to talk about the accident, about Jax. Everyone’s probably still talking about Ebb, too. I did well to avoid everyone over the summer so I wouldn’t have to talk about it.
As the day arrives and I get to the train station to go to school, I can already feel everyone’s eyes burning into me.
Once at school, the stares only get worse. Is it because of Jax or because of Ebbodine?
“I heard she went explosive in public and is in a padded cell at the Institute,” I hear one girl say as I walk past. A group of them are huddled by the lockers, laughing about the whole thing. My scowl lets them know they’d better quiet down before I go over there and punch one of them in the throat. One of them spots me, and they all shut up. It’s a shame. I kind of feel like punching someone, not that I ever would though. It’s important not to draw attention to yourself, I remind myself, trying to calm down.
It’s all feeling so surreal. Is Jax really dead, or was it just a bad dream? Is Ebbodine really missing, or is it another nightmare?
I knew this was going to happen, and I’ve been okay at holding it together so far, but I’m using all of my strength to not lose it right now.
I’m pulling books out of my locker when I feel a presence behind me.
“Hey,” Drew says.
My heart skips a beat, and as I turn to face him, he leans in. For a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me right here in the hallway, but just like on the train a week ago, he doesn’t. He leans down and picks up my backpack, grabs my hand, and leads me down the hallway. My heart starts slowing to a steady pace.
“I’m half-expecting her to walk through those doors any minute,” I say quietly.
“It’s the same for me. I still think Jax will be here any minute, and I saw what happened to him.”
“Has anyone asked you about that yet?” We were expecting to be harassed about what happened, but no one has even mentioned him to me. To be fair, I haven’t spoken to anyone so that might have something to do with it.
“Nope. Apart from the shrine someone set up outside for him, no one’s mentioned him. Apparently Ebbodine disappearing is more gossip-worthy than Jax’s death. Maybe they think it’s wrong to speak ill of the dead, or something. All I’m hearing about is how Ebbodine’s run off to live with some guy… among other theories.”
It’s really annoying how these events keep everyone entertained. I seriously want to ditch school for the day, but I’m worried Dad will find out, and I just can’t deal with him again right now.
“Want to get out of here?” Drew asks with hopeful eyes. Maybe he doesn’t want to be here any more than I do.
I can’t resist the offer to escape. Exiting the school is rather thrilling. It’s certainly not the first time I’ve ditched, but being with Drew makes it more exciting somehow.
“Where to?” I ask.
He gives me a devilish smile that makes me weak in the knees. “Follow me.”
We make our way to the train station and board a city train.
“Really? The city?” I ask as we take our seats.
“There’s this really cool café I’ve been wanting to try. Apparently the food tastes like real food and not lab-grown.”
I can’t help but giggle. “You do remember I live on a farm, right? I eat real food every day.”
“Exactly. You’ll be the best judge to see if it’s real or not.”
“Lab food is real. It’s just …”
“Bland.”
“That’s one way of putting it.”
It takes almost an hour and a half to get to the city, but it’s as busy as I remember with a continuous wave of people amongst an ocean of cars. We make our way down the sidewalk, which seems to be full of a million people intent on going the opposite way we are.
I’m starting to wonder how I ever lived here without going mad. I guess you can do anything when you’re numb. We’d just buried my mother, figuratively speaking since the coffin was empty, but it was at a time when we had to accept Mum was gone. Dad no longer wanted to live in the house she went missing from, and we were behind on rent payments since we no longer had Mum’s income. Aunt Kenna offered to let us stay with her until Dad could save some money and work out what he wanted to do. I think it was the only time in our lives that we moved because we wanted to, not because we felt unsafe.
I’ve lost count of the number of shoulder bumps I’ve encountered since I got off the train. Up ahead there’s a protest of some sort, with people marching in a circle carrying big signs. They’re yelling something, but I’m too far away to make any of it out. Someone approaches us from our left, swift and sudden. Her eyes are as wild as her curly red hair.
“Do you believe every human should have equal rights?” she yells at me.
“I’m sorry, what?” I ask. Drew steps in front of me, putting his arm across me as if to protect me from this crazy lady.
“Everyone deserves rights! Free the Defective!” she screams as she runs off.
I’m stunned and taken off guard. We stand still for a moment, and I try to understand what just happened, but I’m lost for an explanation. Free the Defective? She can say that in public, just like that?
“That was …”
“Weird,” Drew says for me.
He turns to me as a smile finds my face.
“Do you realise you do that a lot?” I ask.
“What?”
“Finish my sentences.”
“I do?” he asks, his eyes darting from left to right as if he’s nervous all of a sudden. “Sorry. I didn’t even realise I was doing it. I’ll stop.”
I shrug. “I never said I didn’t like it.”
We stare at each other for a moment before he takes my hand. “So, lunch?” He drags me off in the direction of the café.
Looking up at the menu above the counter, I have no idea what I want. I don’t have a lot of money, so I’m trying to find something I can afford. The money we earn from the farm is barely enough to cover bills, so there’s not really any extra for me and Shilah to splurge.
“Do you want coffee?” he asks. “My shout.”
“Uh … thanks. But I don’t drink coffee.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Really? You seem like the type.”
“What? High-strung?”
He laughs. “Well you’re not exactly the most relaxed person, are you?”
“How can you tell?”
“It’s pretty obvious.”
“Oh.”
“I don’t mean that in a bad way.” He shrugs. “It’s just who you are.”
Drew convinces me to try a cup of coffee and orders some “gourmet” sandwiches. When they come out, they don’t look gourmet at all. In fact, they look like fake meat, on fake bread, with fake lettuce, and taste like cardboard.
“So maybe not like real food after all,” Drew says, putting his half-eaten sandwich back on his plate.
One of the first things the government accomplished after the pandemic was perfect laboratory-grown food, completely manufactured by machines. They knew food sustainability was one of the most important issues we’d face after the country lost the majority of its population. There was an abundance of viable farmland, but not enough manpower to work it. Not to mention, the lab-grown foods consist of nutritionally perfected meals, unlike natural foods. Most organic food is rich in one or two vitamins but lacking in others.
“Coffee’s good,” I say, taking another sip.
“I knew you’d like it.”
We head back to the train station before it gets too late. Drew offers to walk me home when we get close to his station, but I don’t want Dad to see him. I may be able to get away with ditching school because of Jax and Ebb, but to ditch school and be seen with a boy? I’d probably be grounded until I was thirty-five.
“I’ll see you at school tomorrow,” he says. He pauses before getting out of his seat, as if he’s going to say something else, but he doesn’t. The train pulls into his station and he leaves, making me wish I’d said yes to an escort home.
The Institute Page 6
