Rena nodded. Her mom had a secret, too.
“Would you like to make your call in private?” Risa asked.
She could do this in front of Blaze, but didn’t want Nevan to see her cry. She stood with Risa. “Yes, please.”
They walked down the hall and through the kitchen to a small alcove barely large enough to hold the washer and dryer. The scent of laundry powder lingered in the air.
“There’s no door, but it’s the best I have to offer,” Risa said.
Rena thanked her before she walked away. Nevan’s family had a family room, kitchen, three bedrooms, and their own laundry machines. His parents had to have nice jobs. Her dad managed the part of the factory that made panels for the biospheres, but it obviously didn’t pay as well as agricultural work.
She took a deep breath. The scent of detergent tickled her throat and she coughed a little to clear it. Time to stop procrastinating. Her fingers shook worse with each number she dialed. She hung up twice because she kept hitting the eight instead of the seven. The phone creaked under her tight grip.
Anata answered on the fourth ring.
Rena skipped the pleasantries. “It’s Rena. I need to talk to my dad.”
“Jamarius,” Anata said, her voiced sounded muffled as if she were covering the phone. “It’s her. I know. She wants to talk to you. Where are you?”
“Are you talking to me or someone else?” Rena asked.
“You. Your dad was one foot out the door.”
She rolled her eyes hard enough to hurt. “Is he coming to the phone?”
“I’m here, Rena. Are you safe?” She couldn’t tell whether he was concerned or irritated.
“I’m at a…friend’s house.”
“Okay, but are you safe?”
Definitely irritated.
She thought about how to tell her father that she’d found refuge without getting busted by the Synbots. She knew they could be monitoring the conversation. “Yes. My friend was waiting. Even teased me a little about getting lost on the way. They were happy to see me.”
“Good.” With one word, she heard his relief.
“Dad, I—”
“We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Be careful, Rena.”
Rena swallowed hard as she hung up. She preferred yelling to the quiet guilt. Her dad’s message served a double purpose: a warning to watch what she said on the phone and a reminder to stay off radar. She knew her dad would find out about her latest fine, but it wasn’t the kind of thing reported to the Overlord. She made a mental note to be more like Blaze and avoid further interactions with the Syns until she figured out how to control her powers better.
After taking a minute to compose herself, she went back to the room and handed the phone to Blaze then plopped down on the foot of the mattress.
“How’d it go?” Nevan’s voice sounded soothing. When he sat forward, his dreads shifted over his broad shoulders and framed his face.
Rena knew she was in trouble with her dad, but sitting in the same room with Nevan, hearing his concern, made everything surreal. “Not as bad as I thought it would.”
“That’s a good thing.”
“I told you it would be okay,” Risa said. “I’ll get some fresh sheets for the bed. You don’t mind, do you Nevan?”
“It’s fine with me.”
Sinking onto the orange mattress, Rena tilted her head to the side, glancing between Risa and her son. What did he have to do with anything? This was his sister’s room. It couldn’t be his room, too. Could it? Either pink or orange or both touched every surface. It had to be a little girl’s room.
She searched Blaze’s face, willing her to confirm the suspicion.
“You bodink,” Blaze said. “You’re sitting on Nevan’s bed!”
Rena shot to her feet, lost her footing on the loose sheet, and dropped back down. Her face flushed as she slowly rose again. “Sweet Mother Earth. I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to sit on your bed. I mean, I always wondered what it would be like, but...” She caught the flash of crinkles on Nevan’s forehead and the slackness of his jaw before she spun toward the door. The pitch of her voice grew higher with each word. “Maybe I should stop talking now. I…uh…yeah. Where’s the bathroom?”
“Down the hall, two doors on the left,” Nevan answered in a lower timbre than usual. Sometimes, when her dad was mad, his voice got all low like that. She didn’t know what to think about it where Nevan was concerned. Didn’t he hear her admit to fantasizing about him? Did he care? SME, what if he didn’t? What if he was making faces?
Don’t turn around, Rena. Just walk out of here with what dignity you have left. Walk. I said WALK, not run!
Chapter Five
Rena slammed the bathroom door, locked it, then slid to the floor with her face buried in her hands. Why did she have to be such a bodink? What was wrong with her? Please let this be a dream. Please.
After a few minutes, she rose to blow her nose. Five eco-tissues later, she stood transfixed by her reflection in the mirror. Twigs and leaves from Westrock were wedged in her braids. Dust covered her forehead and her freckled cheeks. The tint of her brown shirt camouflaged the filth, but did nothing to disguise the acorn-sized rips that bared random spots of her stomach. Holes in her cargos exposed her knobby, scratched up knees. And her hands, she couldn’t even look at them.
This was how Nevan would remember her.
A heavy sigh escaped as she turned on the water to scrub her hands. The water stung the tiny scrapes. They probably needed to be cleaned or infection might set in, but then she’d have to explain how she got the cuts, which meant more lies, and she still felt sick from the ones she’d already told.
She chewed her lower lip and stuck her hands back under the water. They trembled while she meticulously plucked the forest from her hair. Using a washcloth, she wiped down her braids and cleaned her face, wishing she could wash off her freckles, too. She couldn’t have cute ones like Blaze. Nope, hers were more like funky-shaped, brown splotches. She hated them.
Shaking her head, she examined the holes in her pants before untying them and letting them fall around her ankles. A new bout of embarrassment descended when the damp cloth touched her knees. She needed lotion bad.
She scratched the back of her neck as she studied the bathroom. Near the towel rack, she spotted a drawing on the wall of a stick person playing drums under an apple tree with the inscription n.t.j. 2236. The thought of a five-year-old little Nevan doodling on the wall brought a fleeting smile.
On the counter next to a glittery hairclip with four teeth missing, she found a bottle of lotion. She flipped the container over and tapped it against her palm until some finally came out. She winced at the fiery sting as she smoothed the cream onto her dry skin. For good measure, she slathered her elbows before she tucked her shirt into her pants in a way that hid some of the holes.
Not yet brave enough to face the world, Rena closed the toilet lid and sat down. She could get through this. It could be worse. He could’ve slammed the door in their faces. She had to hold on to that thought. It was something. He didn’t turn them away. He didn’t turn her away. She’d pretend she didn’t blurt out that she fantasized about him, and if anyone brought it up, she’d deny it.
With her feeble plan, she stood to leave. As soon as her hand touched the knob, she leaned her forehead against the door and stared at her feet.
A knock made her jump and tighten her grip on the handle.
“Rena, it’s me,” Blaze whispered. “You okay? I brought your backpack.”
“I’m fine. I need...”
A few seconds of silence passed before Blaze spoke again. “You gonna come out sometime today?”
“Yes.” Rena lowered her voice to a whisper. “Nevan’s out there, Blaze. Nevan.”
“I know, and if you don’t come out soon, he’s gonna think you’re doing girl stuff or something.”
She twisted the knob, but didn’t o
pen the door. “Was he making faces when I left? Don’t answer that. But, was he?”
“He smiled. A little.”
She eased open the door. “What kind of smile?”
Blaze slipped by and splashed water on her face before she asked, “What do you mean what kind of smile? It was a smile.”
“Was it a smirk? Was it a grin?”
Blaze dried her face. “What’s the difference?”
“There’s a huge difference…” She followed Blaze out to the hall.
Before she had a chance to finish, Risa showed up. “There you two are. I thought you might be hungry. I fixed something to eat. Kitchen’s this way.”
Nevan’s little sister sat at the table in the small, vanilla painted room. She swung her feet back and forth beneath the chair.
“Chai, these are Nevan’s friends, Rena and Blaze. They’ll be sharing a room with you tonight.”
“Sleepover!” Chai sat up taller, her feet swung faster.
“There’s dried fish, sunbaked potatoes, and a little cream. Eat as much as you like.” Risa twisted to make eye contact with her daughter. “This is for our guests. You already ate.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Jelani.” Rena immediately wished she could zap the words out of the air. Even though she’d spent years spying on Nevan, they’d never met. These people were supposed to be random strangers she’d gambled on to help her avoid detection. She wasn’t supposed to know the family name.
Risa flashed a knowing smile before she left the kitchen. Rena sunk into her chair and dropped her backpack by her feet as she looked at Blaze. “That was a smirk.”
“What’s ‘asmirk’ mean?” Chai asked.
“Another word for smile,” Blaze said, selecting a few pieces of dried fish.
Before Chai had a chance to ask follow-up questions, Rena changed the subject. “You look about the same age as my twin brothers. How old are you?”
“Nine, but people tell me I look older even though I’m small for my age.”
Chai’s yellow striped shirt and gray pants contrasted each other like sunshine and a thunderstorm. She wore her hair in three ponytails, none of them split evenly, and she had a blue mustache, probably from sweet-water. Everything about her looked young, except for her deep brown eyes. Something in them belonged to someone much, much older. It made it hard to hold her gaze for long.
“I believe that,” Rena said as she took a bite of potatoes. “Are you in Advanced Conservation Law?”
Chai nodded. Her lack of enthusiasm didn’t escape Rena.
“Don’t worry, Affinity Assessment is way better. I still remember my fifth year”
“What year are you now?” Chai asked.
“Third year interns.”
“Then you’re old enough to dance in the parade!”
“I had to dance in it last year.” Rena cringed at the thought.
“Had to?”
“Yeah. Had to.”
“Did you parade, too, Blaze?” Chai asked.
“Her parents wouldn’t let her.”
“Hey, I’m sitting right here. I can answer for myself. After what happened last year…” Blaze drew a sharp breath, “My parents pulled me out of it.”
“What happened?”
Blaze stuffed her mouth with potatoes.
Rena pushed her plate away. Old anger lingered beneath the surface. Being forced to dance second to someone that could hardly hold the rhythm was not Rena’s idea of fun. By all rights, Rena should have led the Summer 2247 Maiden Walk, but the other girl was an Aggie. Skill didn’t matter to the choreographer. There was no way Rena would suffer that humiliation again.
After the long, unanswered silence, Chai slumped in her chair. “You two aren’t dancing this year?”
“They changed some things.” Blaze swallowed the potatoes. “I plan to dance. I’m still hoping Rena won’t abandon me on my first time.”
Rena shifted. “Can anyone spell guilt trip?”
Maybe there was one reason she would suffer through it again: Blaze. She went through the trouble to re-qualify for the Maiden Walk. What happened to Rena lead to major choreographer changes. Now, she needed to decide what was more important—keeping her word when she said she’d never dance it again, or supporting her best friend during a rite of passage.
“You must be really good, Rena,” Chai said, her voice a soft whisper.
Between that and the look of admiration on her face, Rena was totally confused.
“She’s the best dancer ever,” Blaze said. “At least she’s teaching me some new steps.”
“Oooh!” Chai hopped down from her chair and raced out of the kitchen.
“She’s strange.” Blaze broke off a chunk of bread.
Rena scooted closer and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Do you know where Nevan is?”
“While you were in the bathroom for five days, his mom and I put bedding on the couch in the great room. My best guess is that’s where he is now.”
“Did he seem upset about having to give up his room?”
“Not really. He’s pretty cool about it.”
She nodded before asking the question she really wanted answered. “Did he say anything about what I said?”
“He sort of sat there staring at the door until his mom told him to pack what he needed for the night.”
“What was his face like?”
Blaze shrugged. “I’m not the expert on his expressions.”
“When he’s happy, his dimple…” She sensed light footsteps approaching and waited for Chai to enter the kitchen.
“I’ve got a surprise for you two.” The young girl’s eyes twinkled. “Come see.”
“What is it?” Rena asked. She’d have to wait until later to interrogate Blaze.
“I said it’s a surprise,” she repeated.
“Give us a minute.” Rena stood to clear the table. The sink was spotless and the counters empty. She scraped the plate clean over the trashcan with her fork then set it in the sink along with her cup.
While Blaze scraped her plate, Rena leaned against the counter.
“Whose Mr. Elliott?” she asked Chai.
“Nevan’s boss.”
“He really strict or something?” Rena hoped leading the Syns to this house wouldn’t somehow get him in trouble at work.
“Mr. Elliott is really nice. He’s been working with Nevan on getting a promotion. It’s all my brother ever thinks about. He’s gonna be the youngest Lead Grower ever.” She beamed, a proud sibling.
“Done,” Blaze said as she set her dishes in the sink.
Rena picked up her backpack and asked, “Where’s this surprise you were telling us about?”
Chai grabbed her by the hand and led her past Nevan’s room to a door that Rena had assumed was another bedroom. It turned out to be a basement. A strong pine scent greeted her before she stepped foot into it. Strategically placed bricks elevated everything at least six inches off the ground. A stool surrounded by a patchwork of carpet remnants was the only thing not propped up off the concrete floor.
During the rainy season, this space obviously flooded. That explained how Nevan’s family could afford to live in such a big house, alone, and why he shared space with his sister rather than rooming in the basement. She had to give Risa credit. The bundles of pine needles stashed around the room eliminated the fusty odor usually associated with wet-basements. The crevices appeared mold-free, too.
Chai skipped to a pile of sheets between the stool and a shelf lined with multi-hued rocks. “Can you show me the steps for this year’s parade? We can use these to make skirts. They’re not as pretty as real ones, but they should work. Don’t you think?”
Even though Rena wasn’t in the mood for dancing, when she stared down into Chai’s plea-filled eyes, she couldn’t bring herself to say no. “It should work.”
“Great!” Chai picked up the top sheet, letting it fall open. “Will you help me?”
She set her backpack by the wall and took the sheet,
which she secured around Chai’s waist with a double slipknot in the front.
“Which one of you knows how to play the bongos?”
“I’ve watched my brothers practice before,” Rena said, picking up another sheet.
“Good.” Chai disappeared behind a curtain door made of unfinished patches in shades of green. When she came back out, she held a set of drums. “Then, you can play and me and Blaze will dance.”
Rena recognized the drums immediately. They were Nevan’s. “He keeps those down here? Where water could possibly ruin them?”
“No, I snuck them out of our room.” Chai offered them to her.
“I…uh…” She backed away, bumped into the stool, and fell on it.
How could this nine-year-old girl expect Rena to first barge into Nevan’s house, unannounced, unexpected, and then put her hands all over his personal property?
“Don’t worry, my brother lets me play them all the time,” Chai said. She swapped the sheet for the drums then moved to stand in place next to Blaze.
Rena studied the bongos. They were heavier than her brothers’. The polished silver rims reflected the ceiling lights. Each cinnamon colored shell had two grooves around the midsection. She remembered the first time she’d seen them at the Celebration. It was a concert, summer evening. Nevan sat in the front row, playing his drums, while his smiling eyes brimmed with joy. He swayed, fused with the rhythm and Rena had danced to his beat alone.
She often relived the moment. It was quite a contrast to her forever first impression of him sitting under a tree at Center Square. He had a book in his hands, headphones in his ears, and looked absolutely peaceful. When he played bongos, though, peacefulness had nothing to do with it. That was pure, raw. Exciting in ways she was embarrassed to admit out loud.
Now, his little sister expected her to play his drums. Thrilled as she was to be holding something this personal, there was no way she could come anywhere close to playing half as good as him. She slouched against the short backrest.
“Play a simple song so me and Blaze can keep up, okay?”
Rena reminded herself that it was just the girls. Just for fun. She scooted forward to get the bongos into position. Bending her right leg, she nestled the hembra down against her calf and folded her left knee around the macho, the way she’d watched her dad do while he struggled to teach her brothers.
Edge of Truth (9781310978142) Page 4
