Tapping open the browser, I pause. This is normal, right? This entire situation is so beyond normal that attempting to find any and all information on a stranger via his “The Class” social media profile doesn’t really sound crazy at all. My fingers press the keys as if they have a mind of their own and then I see “ABEL” on the screen followed by a flashing vertical line signaling that there are more. What is his last name? How can I not remember such a crucial piece of life altering information? I scan my brain for a few minutes but come up empty handed. Releasing the tablet from my clutch, I toss it onto the floor and pull my legs up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them and resting my head against my knees. My entire life has been predictable but now I can’t help but feel like everything is about to change.
The box on my nightstand catches my eye and I walk over to pick it up. Cold to the touch, I grasp it with both hands. It’s heavier than it looks. From a distance the brassy material could be mistaken for wood, light and hollow. It’s not until I actually lift it that I feel how dense it is. If it really is a box, I can’t imagine the compartment inside to be very big at all. I trace the triangular lock on the front, though it feels as if it was once smooth, dents and age have corrupted its shape. With as much force as I can muster, I pull up on the triangle, hoping by some miracle it will cease its stubbornness and bend to my will. No such luck. What are you hiding in there? I bite my lip, feeling like I’ve hit a dead end when suddenly I recall Dad’s voice in my head, “I found it up in the attic.” There is bound to be something else up there, maybe even a key. I set the box back onto my nightstand and make for the attic.
“Cate? Katie, will you come down here, please?” Mom’s voice hits me like a wall and I remember that she mentioned clients were stopping by tonight. Dread overcomes me, partly because I can’t help but feel like I need to get to the attic and rummage through every single box as soon as possible and partly because I cannot bear sitting through dinner, faking a smile and asking strangers if they’ll pass the green beans.
“Sure Mom!” I shout down the staircase. There must be some way to get out of this. “You know, I just remembered, I promised Asher I'd study with him tonight for our Physics exam on Friday… I really want to make my grades a prio—” halfway down the stairs I glance up and the sight in front of me stops me dead in my tracks.
“Cate, I’d like you to meet Mr. and Mrs. Cohen, they’re new to the city and I’m showing them some lovely properties. I thought it would be wonderful for them to join us for dinner and I’m so glad they’ve been able to make it.” My mother flashes her real estate smile, the one that has sold a hundred homes and, by the looks of it, hopes to make that a hundred and one.
“Please Maggie, we’ve been through so much together, you must have shown us 5 houses today! The formalities must come to a close. Please, call me Eliath, and this is my wife, Shoshanna, and our son—”
“Abel,” I interject.
“Yes.” Eliath smiles. “I’m sorry, have you two already met?” Standing in the foyer, four confused adults and two bored 14 year olds exchange looks while HE stares at me.
“Yeah,” Abel chuckles, staring into my eyes so intently I feel my cheeks start to get hot. “Cate’s anti-gravity routine was the highlight of my campus tour today.”
“Anti-gravity routine?” My father’s eyes light up and the brainiac inside of him is unable to stay hidden. “Katie, did you join the student ambassador council?” He glances at the Cohens. “Katie is really focused on her extra-curriculars this year. Abel, do you play any sports?”
I realize that I am still standing halfway up the stairs and venture the rest of the way down. My feet touch the landing and I stand there in utter disbelief as my parents and the Cohens exchange small talk. My father becomes a one-man advertisement for Summit Academy, boasting about how the baseball team took its region last year. Is this really happening?
“Mommmm, are we eating soon?” Max whines. He always has had such phenomenal timing.
“Yes! Right this way everyone.” Mom turns back to me and places her hand against my forearm. “Cate, are you sure you can’t stay, I—”
“Yeah, I can stay,” I blurt out.
“Oh, well, that’s wonderful dear.” Caught off guard by my sudden change in heart she heads off towards the kitchen, caravan in tow.
“I wasn’t sure what sort of food the people from The New England Territory were accustomed to,” Mom says, laughing awkwardly. “So I hope you’ll enjoy our little Quill family favorite of chicken with cheese and broccoli.” Her endearing smile is so innocent that for anyone to pretend as though they felt anything other than love for chicken with cheese and broccoli would just be downright rude.
“Yeah and I hope you like your chicken bathing in a moat of cheese, because that’s how Mom makes it,” Sophie scoffs. In an attempt to find herself, Sophie changes her list of likes and dislikes on a weekly basis. A month ago she was scarfing down the very same dish that now seems to repulse her. Kids.
The truth is, chicken is the only protein we’re rationed. Yes, of course, there are ways of getting foreign foods, a black market is rumored to exist somewhere in the lower sectors. I’ve been tempted to peruse it from time to time but they don’t accept Stater, the global digital currency that the rest of the world uses. Instead, they practice in barter and trade and, honestly, I’ve always been too scared to attempt a transaction.
“Chicken is great,” Shoshanna proclaims, putting Mom at ease. Little does she know, Mom will not be at ease during any part of this dinner, not while she has her saleswomen cap on. “We do actually have chicken in the NET,” she says with a smile. Shoshanna’s teeth are remarkably perfect and for a moment I wish my smile was as warm.
“Of course you do!” Mom throws her arms up in the air and laughs as if to signal that she herself knows how silly she sounded acting as if The New England Territory had not only seceded from the union but is now its own chickenless country.
As he sits down to the table Abel shrugs and adds, “I think broccoli might just be my favorite vegetable.”
“Really?” Max says with a cocked eyebrow. “You know...” he continues. “Saying things like how much you love vegetables that my mom cooks isn’t going to get you on Cate’s good side, or Mom’s for that matter.”
Hearing this, my dad chokes on the food in his mouth. Struggling to clear his airways, he grasps for his water and downs a few gulps, laughing all the while. Sophie, being the considerate young woman she is, jumps up and runs over to him. “You okay, Dad??” she shouts, as if in addition to choking he has somehow also gone deaf. I hear my dad attempt to say he’s fine but between the choking, his laughter and the entire table cracking up at Max’s observation, I doubt Sophie can hear and I’m proven right a second later when she begins to violently hit his back and yell at him to raise his arms. Pushed forward into the table by the mighty hamster-sized teen, my father finally is able to shout, “I’m fine, Soph! Have mercy!”
Eliath hunches over the table laughing uncontrollably and by the time he sits back up straight, cheese from his plate has adorned his forest green sweater. Shoshanna points at his clumsiness and the table shakes from everyone’s hands hitting it because honestly, at this point it’s all we can do to try to make ourselves settle down.
“Nice one, Dad!” Abel laughs.
I kick Max, who’s sitting directly across from me, in the shin so hard that he jumps in his seat. I feel its proper punishment for the eruption that just occurred. “Ow!” he howls, smiling at me as he leans down and rubs his leg.
“Cate, don’t kick your brother; Max, stop making grown men choke and fall into cheese.” I smile, my cheeks turn bright red but it’s probably for the best. This is the Quill family, uncensored, and if Abel is to ever know who I am, he has to see where I come from. As soon as Dad regains composure and Eliath cleans off his sweater, Sophie seats herself back down next to Abel.
“So, Eliath, Shoshanna, have you found any areas of Castle Rock th
at you can see yourself buying in?” Dad is obviously trying to find some control in this conversation and I’m thankful for it.
“I really am falling in love with the town, it’s beautiful, but nothing really jumped at me today until our drive over here. This is a great neighborhood,” Shoshanna says.
“Oh! Well there is a property up the hill a ways overlooking this valley,” Mom says, seeing her chance to take a swing at the market. “I actually think I know the listing’s agent. I can take you over there in the morning, if that sounds alright?”
The idea of Abel living just a couple miles away seems wonderful to me. The home Mom’s talking about used to belong to one of the handful of physicians in town. Since Dr. Crane’s death, the place has stayed vacant. I’ve often thought that it must be simultaneously lonely and stressful being a doctor. Only a limited number of citizens are given clearance for the profession since a great deal of trust must reside in those who have the knowledge to surgically manipulate our health. I wonder if Dr. Crane felt alone up there by himself. The house is surrounded by tall trees and I love running up there in the summer.
Abel leans over to me, and feeling him so close to my neck makes my skin buzz and tingle. “I’m glad your parents invited us over for dinner,” he whispers, as not to disrupt the table’s conversation. “I wanted to talk earlier and hoped I’d get the chance to soon. Didn’t realize it’d be this soon…” He smiles. “But I’m happy it was.” From the temperature my cheeks feel to be, I can imagine they’re the same shade of red as a cola can.
“Yeah, me too, Abel. Really.” I want to say so much more, I want to confess the urge I have to know absolutely everything about him but he leans back over and rejoins the conversation.
I shift my focus back in front of me and am greeted by Max showing off a mouthful of chewed up food in my direction. I smile and roll my eyes and as I do, I notice Shoshanna pull her hair back and there, dangling from a silver necklace, is a triangular pendant. It’s the same deep green metal with interwoven mother of pearl detail as the box that guards my nightstand. It’s so similar that I feel my eyes widen and I can’t help staring. The only difference I can see is that three rings encompass the triangle and within the shape sits three thin, vertical columns. Shoshanna brings her hand up to her collarbone and my view is blocked. I blink several times, lost in thought; maybe it’s a common symbol after all. Thoughts of why I was unable to find it online flood my mind and I sit back in my chair.
“Cate, how do you like Summit Academy?" Shoshanna’s focused eyes meet mine, which must look glazed over and seem a million miles away from the dining room. “Have you had a pretty decent experience? Are the teachers fairly nice?” Even though her voice comes off as polished and smooth, I sense the authenticity of it.
“I love it here…” I smile. “But I haven’t lived anywhere else to know if I’m missing out on anything, and Summit is great. There are a lot of awesome people here and for the most part everyone in the Upper Class Unit knows each other. I think Abel would really like it.” I glance over at him. “I know I’d really like it…” I let the words hang in the air just long enough so that he knows the idea of him around me doesn’t exactly repulse me but continue on quickly enough so my parents don’t think I’m openly flirting at the dining room table with a boy I just met 7 hours ago. “We rarely ever get transfer students, a new face in the halls is something everyone could use.” The last part is true, we do rarely get transfers. In fact, I think Willa was the last one. And when we do get transfers, they’re from the southern colonies and normally carry an air of arrogance that I cannot stand. I’ve personally never met anyone from the NET and I doubt anyone else at Summit has either.
“Have you enjoyed living here Catherine? I mean, do you really like it…are you doing alright? Seventeen is such a tough age.” Shoshanna’s eyebrows pull together and the interrogation-style question catches me off guard slightly. For a moment the shear utterance of the name Catherine makes me think that her line of questions are intended for some older, more elegant version of myself—no one calls me Catherine.
“Well, I don’t exactly know what it’s like to be anything other than seventeen so it’s feeling pretty normal to me,” I laugh. “Nothing I can’t handle so far, not that Castle Rock is an extremely demanding environment.”
That’s a lie and I know it. Castle Rock boasts to be a sleepy mountain town, an escape from the larger cities of more populated Republics and Colonies. The truth is that we’re expected to live within strenuous regulations and there isn’t any room to act out, there isn’t any room to commit crimes, there isn’t any room to make a mistake. Before The Council came into power, the New Utah was in the wake of disaster. I’m told that The Council saved us by implementing the Class System, and that a lot of other regions are considering implementing it as well. I stare at Eliath’s Class 4 currency pin and I wonder if he is already used to wearing it.
For a second I’m afraid my sarcasm will come across as impolite but Shoshanna just smirks and says, “I suppose you’re right.” By the way her words compliment her smile, I am instantly comforted that my remark wasn’t seen as impolite at all. Eliath places his hand on top of Shoshanna’s and caresses it gently. For some reason I cannot imagine my own parents sharing the same public display of affection. They both partake in an identical smile for a moment and I can’t help but feel as though they’re analyzing me. Is it because their son is sitting mere inches from a girl who is obviously interested in him? Am I being that transparent? Do they know something I don’t? I mean, I barely know this guy, how can they know I’m interested in someone that I’m not even sure I’m interested in? Are my bright red cheeks giving something away that my brain hasn’t agreed to yet?
Demanding that my mind cease its personally designed, self-afflicting attack, I break in, “Shoshanna, your necklace is beautiful. Where did you get it?” Shoshanna pulls her hand away from Eliath and briefly touches the triangular pendent.
“I was wondering that as well,” Mom chimes in. “It really is a wonderful piece.”
“Oh thank you!” Shoshanna replies, seeming as if the question brought her back from whatever mental analysis she was running on me. Mission accomplished. “My mother actually gave it to me.”
“Really? That’s so odd. I wonder where she got it from. I only ask because my dad found this weird box in the attic with a similar symbol.” I look down at my plate, Where did this damn thing come from? Looking up I see Shoshanna staring at me.
“I’m not sure where she got it but it’s been in our family for some time. I do know that anything handed to us from the past is important though, even if only for sentimental purposes. You should keep it close.”
“Yeah, I think I will.”
By the time dinner comes to a close, I can’t help but feel like I’ve managed to get to know Abel’s family better than Abel himself. My parents walk Eliath and Shoshanna to their Class 4 car, exchanging pleasantries and making plans to do this again. I follow along, a few paces behind, hoping to take in as much of the Cohens as possible. Feeling a hand grasp mine, my momentum towards the black SUV stops and I turn to find Abel connected to the hand now holding mine. I can’t help but smile.
“Thanks for having us over.” He looks down and kicks his brown boot into the gravel of the driveway.
“I didn’t really have anything to do with the inviting part, but I’m glad it happened.” I stare at him, willing his face back up from the pavement.
“Maybe we can do this again sometime, you know, minus the parents and siblings.”
“I’d really, really like that. Actually, The Council throws this festival every year. It’s sort of a giving back to the city thing. Anyway, it’s this Friday at the fairgrounds and I was planning on going with a couple friends if you’d like to come?” His hand feels so warm against my own that I begin to dread him leaving.
Altruist (The Altruist Series Book 1) Page 3
