by Barb Han
Many classes are in buildings that have been here since the school was founded in 1791. Administration, cafeteria, and Arts buildings are modern to signify moving forward. Jax sent me a picture of Yankee Stadium constructed from Lego pieces once. The new buildings look like they’re made of the same material. The contrast doesn’t make sense to me. It’s a mess, or maybe I don’t understand it and it’s perfect because everything is perfect at Easton.
I probably should’ve changed into something more comfortable. My uniform, a light gray skirt complete with bib and pleats, is itchy. I wear a white oxford long sleeve shirt and the sweater my brother gave me underneath a navy blazer, white knee socks, and saddle oxfords. Those hard shoes take forever to break in. But the tie is the most uncomfortable part of the whole uniform. Without loosening that, I’d have no chance at sleep. It’s a lot to wear with my sweater, but every building, every class, is literally freezing cold. Apparently, there was a study that said kids were more alert in a chilly room versus a warm one.
The lighting inside is soft, the blanket warm. I brighten the light using the control panel on my left. I dig around in my gray satchel until my fingers catch on a cord, and I pull it out. One end of the adapter goes into the plug on my device and the other has electrodes that I strap to my wrist. This will capture all the details of the quality of my sleep and give Dr. Mangrove the feedback. My resting heart rate will tell him more about my physical condition than a full lab workup, he says. Those happen twice a year. More if they detect anything unusual in my uploads. Lately, I’ve been getting injections, too. Extra vitamins.
Music choices are limited. I play the kind of soft jazz music my gran would’ve loved on one of the lowest settings and then settle on my back with my knees arched, going through my competition routine in my head. The choreography is modern and showcases my strength. I’m not super thin. I’m strong and flexible. My body is built for quick movement.
I run through my routine three times for luck before truly relaxing. There’s something about going through those movements, even in my head, that always calms me.
Now, I think I might actually sleep. The pod has a lot of sound options to help further relax me. Soft piano music. No. Sounds of the ocean. Definitely no. I tried that once. It made me want to pee. Same thing with the waterfall. I scroll through a few more choices before I settle on the only thing that reminds me of home—a train running on tracks. I never hear that sound now.
Thinking about home will make me sad, and I can’t afford negative emotions while hooked up to the monitor. I think about the first summer day. Warm sun on my face. Nearly empty halls. Summer break.
I flip onto my right side. A minute later, I wiggle onto my left. Five minutes pass. None of my usual tricks works. I’m anxious to talk to Jax and find out what punishment the Headmaster dreamed up this time. After he activated the emergency alarms, he was forced to work at the technology lab mentoring lower school kids who couldn’t tell an AllinOne from a chair. The punishment had been worse than making him scrub toilets.
Someone bangs on my pod before running off. I hear Rhys’s unmistakable laughter. Jerk. What’s he doing here? He’s never in this hall.
If I had a way to contact Caius, I’d tell him to forget about dinner. I’m restless. I toss and turn, sharply aware that my movement is being recorded. The alarm I set on my AllinOne goes off right at the time I finally doze off.
I dig around for more cords and find the one that allows me to upload the data into Mecca, the main database. I stretch all the way out in the pod while the data transmits.
After gathering my stuff, I meander through the halls, which are filling with students on their way to the cafeteria. Dancers at Easton compete against each other in addition to other schools so there’s no pretense of being a unit. I’m kind of jealous of Adalynn and wish I had the ability to play a team sport just for the company.
Inside the Dining Hall, I punch in my ID at one of the food stations, and my meal drops onto my tray. Today, it looks like my lunch is going to be some kind of protein bar, a salad, and a piece of fruit. Meat goes to the top one percent in our country. We don’t have the cows they have in a country like Texas.
Meat is more expensive here. The call is for resource management and personal sacrifice for the greater good. My main food is protein bars, which is better than most. Even my salad is on the small side. Other than that, I get a healthy berry-flavored vitamin shake thick enough to eat with a spoon. It replaces bananas, strawberries, and blueberries in my diet. I do get a handful of blueberries at breakfast every morning because of their memory benefits.
I take the tray and find a seat close to the window. It’s raining—one of those lazy afternoon showers that only come in April. I’ve never been a nature girl, but I miss the outside. Not outside as in out of a building. I mean really outside, like in the open air or the woods. Like standing on a street corner while traffic goes by. I miss the noise of a big city and the parks. Easton is exclusive, secluded, and I haven’t left this place in the three years I’ve been here.
I swing by my locker one more time, hoping to catch Caius in the hallway so I can back out of dinner. I’m angry with him because of his friend, Rhys. And because all Legacy kids are alike, I don’t trust Caius.
Inside my locker, there’s a small box with a note. I open the envelope.
Victoria—
An early present.
Happy 17th Birthday.
And congrats on the perfect score on your Lit test. Well done!
-Eleanor and Spencer Chaffee
My sponsors. My birthday. Seventeen. My heart sinks at the reminder that I haven’t seen my family since I was fourteen. My folks might have been poor, but they’d always managed to make the day special. Every year, Trevor would come home with a couple of bananas and a box of graham crackers. Mom would mash together the bananas with government-issued peanut butter and then spread it over the crackers. The snack is surprisingly good. I can almost taste it now.
The memory isn’t helping my somber mood, and I start to choke up. Crying isn’t an option, so I swallow the lump forming in my throat.
I open the box to reveal a silver chain-link bracelet with a heart charm at the clasp. My name is engraved on the charm—Victoria. It’s nice. Weird that they used my formal name, but I would wear it anyway. Gifts from sponsors can’t be ignored. There’s a small card tucked inside the lid of the jewelry box. They want me to come over for dinner Saturday night to celebrate. It isn’t like I can say no. That would be fatal to my status. They pretty much control my life here. If they drop me, I’m out. If I’m out, my family loses everything.
Dread settles in my stomach because I’ll have to be ‘on’ the whole time, and I’d much rather stay in my room and study or work in an extra hour in the studio. Turning on the charm is not my strong suit. Besides, my competition is coming up next month, and I have to win.
Dinner with Caius will be just as uncomfortable as seeing my sponsors. I keep spinning out over Rhys getting Jax into trouble, especially since Jax has ghosted.
For the life of me, I can’t imagine what a guy like him wants from me, and my imagination takes over while I’m in Miss Marteau’s ballet class. I’m distracted, and so she corrects my feet at least a half dozen times—so much so that I stop counting—and pokes my stomach even more than usual.
I’m starting to get worked up about the whole Caius thing. Why ask me out now? He’s a Legacy, and they never socialize with other groups. Granted, he’s different. Not empty-headed and empty-souled like the others. It was obvious from his thoughtful answers in English.
Thinking back, he was pretty darn charming with that smile earlier. Those eyes. The more I go over the whole scenario in my mind, the angrier I become. He must want something from me. His attention for the past few weeks must be building up to something. But what?
Then again, it would be just like a Legacy
to build someone up and then make a sport of crushing them. Why should he be different? His former best friend just got mine sent to the Headmaster’s office.
After ballet, I make an extra trip to my locker. I don’t need anything. I’m just hoping to run into Jax. I don’t. My anxiety is building as fire runs through me. No doubt, he’ll be kicked out of school this time. His family isn’t as powerful as most of the other Legacies—I think he got in because of a rich uncle—and that will make him vulnerable. Surely, he’s near his last straw here.
By the time dinner rolls around, I’m fuming. I slam my tray down a little too loudly at the food dispenser. A couple of nearby kids look up, alarmed, as I punch in my code. In total, there’s a dozen of us in the dining hall. We aren’t friends because we’re mostly Sponsored or on meal plans, and none of us wants to be in here eating, let alone be social. We always disperse.
After fake smiling all day, we need space. There’s an indescribable kinship, even though we don’t talk.
My hands start to shake as I scan the room, searching for Caius. My gaze lands on a girl standing in the corner, waiting to clean up after we leave. She’s close to my age and looks like someone I used to know from my old neighborhood. I don’t dare ask her name, and she won’t even look at me. Talking to each other is frowned upon, but chatting with the help is all but forbidden. We’re supposed to mingle with other students to make it seem like we fit in.
I tug at the hem of my sweater and then roll it between my thumb and forefinger at the seam.
Maybe my dinner date won’t show, and then the joke will be on me. I’ll be all worked up over nothing. I take my usual spot at the two-top table by the window so I can look out at the pond.
A waterfall tumbles down around the rocks and dives deep into the water. Ripples flow from the action, diffusing the force as they expand toward me, never quite reaching the opposite bank. I’m fascinated by this. I’m also hoping that staring at the water can somehow calm me down. My stomach’s churning, and I’ll never be able to eat if my nerves don’t settle.
I glance at my AllinOne. 6:18. He’s late. Or maybe he’s not coming. Maybe he wants me to sit here and wait for him, and that’s all part of the joke. I pick up my power bar and take a bite. My stomach puts up an argument. I force down a few bites.
“Mind if I join you?” Caius asks from behind me. His voice rolls over me like water on the rocks. I remind myself what happens to the water. It’s strong as it rolls down the rocks, gathering force, and then it explodes into the water below. The act depletes its energy and it grows weaker after its one big act of rebellion.
“Not at all.” I use my “it’s a free country” tone.
He takes the seat across from me and sets a container down in between us.
“Good, because I thought you might be mad at me or something for being late.” He tosses his head to the side and smiles at me.
“Why should I care if you show up or not? You’re the one who scheduled this meeting.” I’m forcing the cold shoulder routine. I have to. If I let my defenses down with Caius, I’d end up liking him. Really liking him. He’s smart, beyond good looking and is so much more real than the other Legacies. Falling into that trap would be about as smart as a fly making a bed on a lily pad.
He looks at me with that same quick nod and half smile from earlier. The one that shows off the dimple on his right cheek. I catch him snapping the rubber band on his left wrist. Nervous?
His piercing, ash-blue eyes study me for a long minute before he reaches toward the container. I have on my poker face even though my heart’s fluttering in my chest like a trapped bird, searching for freedom. I’m trying my best to act unaffected. I’m failing miserably on the inside, but I hope my facade is still strong enough to pull off casual when he delivers his zinger—and he will deliver his zinger.
“I ran home because I thought you might be tired of eating”—he wrinkles his nose and gestures toward my plate—“those brown bars. What is that even?”
I’m determined not to smile. He’s right. Protein bars don’t look like much. They taste the same as they look. Or they would if they had a taste.
“This is my dinner.” I pretend to be insulted. I have to. I’m struggling to hold onto the fire building, and that’s playing right into his hand. I can’t afford to like you, Caius, I repeat like a mantra.
He ignores my comeback and pulls out two smaller containers, real silverware, and two cloth napkins.
A junior who is shorter than Caius glares at me as he walks past. I’m suddenly aware of all the others in the room. I can already feel the heat of their eyes on me because Caius Fitch is sitting at my table, and now, he pulls out fresh food to make it even worse.
Sponsored kids like Legacies as much as we trust them.
Caius acts unfazed by the snub. Or maybe it’s not an act. No one in this room or any other social group will challenge a Legacy. He has the confidence of a lion stretched out on the Serengeti.
“I hope you like Spinach Manicotti,” he says with that smile as he sets a container in front of me with a fork and a napkin. Tiny beads of sweat form at his hairline. It must be hot in here because there’s no way he’s nervous.
The food smells like heaven on earth, but I don’t make a move. I lean back in my chair and cross my arms.
“What?” He looks hurt. “You don’t like pasta?”
“That’s not the problem.” I’m stone-faced.
“Then, what is?” His brow arches, and he looks thoroughly confused by my reaction.
“You don’t have to butter me up with food. Just ask me whatever it is you want from me and get it over with.” The bird in my chest flutters wildly.
“I already did,” he says so softly that I’m taken back.
I don’t exactly remember him spitting out a request for a favor. “Spell it out for me, Caius. Is it tutoring you want? You want me to work with your sister in the dance hall? I’ve seen you watching me since last year. Do you want me to do your homework for you? What do you want from me?”
This is the first time Mr. Popular has ever looked seriously wounded. He packs up the containers of food and places them back inside the case. He stands and looks me dead in the eye. “All those answers you gave in English last year made me think you were different.” He shrugs. “Better than the people I grew up with. You dance like you have something to say.” He pauses. I feel like a jerk. “Is it too much to believe that I like you and want to get to know you better?”
He doesn’t wait for a response because it wasn’t a real question. He picks up the container, turns, and then stops.
“Nah, you keep it.” Without looking at me again, he sets the container down. “You’re such a hypocrite. Not trusting me because I’m a Legacy makes you as big of a jerk as the people who don’t like you because you’re smart. I hope you enjoy being sanctimonious all alone.”
And then he walks out.
Chapter Three
I’m literally the biggest jerk on the planet. I should’ve followed Caius out of the cafeteria. My feet literally wouldn’t move no matter how much I tried to force them. His words were a physical punch, and all the air whooshed from my lungs.
Now, all I can think about is what he said. And that’s why I’m standing in the studio in front of his sister’s class, waiting for him to show.
Part of me is praying he won’t be the one who picks her up tonight. My thumb and forefinger are working the hem on my sweater, and I have to force myself to stop.
Facing the music when you’ve been a complete idiot to someone is much harder than I expected, and I now realize that maybe he is a normal teenager after all. One that is just as afraid of rejection as everyone else. Shock, I know. A Legacy who has feelings. In my defense, I’ve never seen that in almost three years at Easton. Since I’m owning all my prejudices right now, I’ve never spent much time around him to be able to sa
y how different he is from the others. Based on English class last year, I feel like I should.
Carina’s class is about to be over, and he’s usually here by now.
I’d considered being late to my time slot just to avoid him, but his words kept spinning in my head. He was right. I am just as bad as everyone else. The truth stings. I’d blame the nightmare as the reason why I’m so off-balance. I could throw in other things for sympathy, too. Like how much I miss my family. But he’s is right. I don’t trust him because he’s Legacy, and it has nothing to do with who he is inside.
I’m mostly nervous because his reaction showed me how much I’d hurt him, and I fear that I’m the last person he wants to see right now. I’ll know soon enough. If he shows.
On second thought, maybe I should give him a chance to cool off. He was upset at dinner, and it might be a mistake to try to plead my case while he’s still angry.
Now, I’m pacing. My fears are mounting, and I’m working myself into a panic attack as he rounds the corner.
I freeze.
He glances at me and then walks right past.
“Caius,” I manage to squeak out.
He turns around, and I can tell that he’s expecting me to say something else.
“Can I speak to you outside for a sec?” I’m sure my voice is shaking, but all I can hear is a thrumming sound in my ears.
“I have to wait for my sister.” He doesn’t walk away. That’s better than nothing.
“Is it okay if I talk to you while you wait?” The caged bird is back in my chest, wreaking havoc on my rib cage.
“Free country.” He shrugs before backing up to lean against the locker. His gaze zeroes in on a spot on the ceiling as he leans his head against the metal.
I inch next to him, praying that he can’t hear my heart pounding. “You were right earlier. What you said.”
He turns his head toward me, and the force of his intense blue eyes hit me hard. I feel like the spot under the waterfall. He doesn’t speak.
