by J. Andersen
“So,” I ask, “what made you want to be a Creation Scientist?”
“I dunno. I guess I found it challenging to create something new, something perfect. Besides, it’s the closest thing I could think of to becoming a father.”
“Father?”
“Or brother.”
“You don’t think you’ll be a dad someday?”
“Maybe, but I have to find the right girl first.” He picks up a twig and snaps it, tossing tiny pieces on the grass as we walk.
It’s odd to think that at nineteen, Micah has thought about being a father. We can’t even apply for children until we’re thirty, so planning so far in advance seems odd. The thought of raising my own children is so foreign to me at seventeen, it seems like a lifetime away before I’ll ever have to consider those life choices. First, I have to focus on getting my degree, then finding a husband.
“A girl who will put up with your stone face, you mean?”
“Stone face?”
My face slides into a serious look. “Yeah, this one.” But trying to hold it without laughing is impossible.
His eyes glitter in the moonlight, but he doesn’t laugh. “You’ve named it my stone face?”
“Maybe.”
“Huh, and here I thought girls went for the serious brooding type.”
“Oh, yes. We do.” I mock his stone face again.
When he practically glares at me, his eyes icy, I wonder if I’ve gone too far. This is our first time together. Maybe my teasing is too much.
Thankfully, he breaks into a grin. “If you’re going to make fun of it, you at least have to do it right.”
“Right. Well, I’ll have to practice.”
“You’d be surprised at how useful a straight face is. Everyone thinks you’re mad, but really, you can hide away, listening to the action around you. I’ve gleaned a lot from being that quiet face in the corner.”
Now I’m curious. Maybe, being so far from the center of The Institute, Micah will open up a bit. “I’m sure you have. Tell me something juicy you’ve heard.”
He pulls his hands from his coat pockets and wipes them on his jeans. I’m sure he’s going to reveal something interesting, but instead he clears his throat. “We’re almost there.”
So much for deep conversation. This is only the first date. I’m sure neither of us is ready to reveal our deepest darkest secrets. Or any secrets for that matter. It’s too bad, really. I’m sure Micah has an interesting one or two.
A break in the walkway leads down river, and Micah suddenly turns right. I’ve traveled this way many times, pushing Gran through the thick grass to our secret clearing near the riverside, but in all the times I’ve been up this way, I’ve never known anyone else to come through here.
“Mind if we wander through the wilderness a bit?” Micah asks. “I know of this really cool spot. I go there sometimes to eat lunch.”
“Um. Yeah. Sure.” Oh dear, what if it’s the same place? Does he know about it? About me?
Another ten minutes through the damp grass, and the dew from the afternoon rain has soaked through the canvas on my shoes. The squishy sensation I feel between my toes every time I place my foot is of little concern with my thoughts on Micah and his mysterious persona. I’m intrigued by where he’s taking me, wondering with every stride if it’s the same clearing I take Gran to talk.
“Hold on.” Micah moves forward and brushes aside some branches, revealing the clearing. My clearing. The one overlooking the waterfall. How have we never bumped into each other here in all the times I’ve snuck away to this very spot? If Micah comes here, too, he must have seen me at least once or twice. The odds of not running into me are very slim. Yet, I can’t remember a single time I’ve seen anyone lingering around here. I thought I was alone. Safe.
He holds out his hand. “Here,” he says, “let me help you.”
The weeds have grown over since I brought Gran here last, but there’s still a little worn path leading to the edge of a cliff, evidence that someone has frequented this spot. I settle myself against my rock and nibble the rest of my scone. He’s looking right at me with some sort of anticipation.
“It’s beautiful. Do you come here often?” I ask.
“Now and then. Very few people know about this place, I think.” He settles himself on the damp dirt next to me. His elbows rest on his knees, and his coffee cup hangs loosely in one hand. Sipping lightly, he steals a glance at me before surveying the river below. “I found it one afternoon on a walk. It was crazy; this one day, instead of taking my usual route along the fencing of The Institute like I normally do, I decided to brave the wilderness. Found this place. Now, it’s kind of my secret spot.” Picking up a rock from the ground, he tosses it into the river. “I’ve never brought anyone here.”
“Wow, I feel special.”
“You should.” His eyes twinkle, but his face remains steady. “I figured you might be an outdoorsy kind of girl.”
He’s right; it’s nice to get away every once in a while. Be alone. “Yeah, there’s not much alone time when you work for The Institute. You know, with all the cameras and surveillance equipment everywhere.” Dang! Why did I just say that? It’s not like I don’t know better. You’re never supposed to admit anything to anyone around here, yet I go and open my big mouth. It’s like being around Micah opens the doors to my innermost thoughts.
I glance up at his knowing eyes. There’s something about the way he looks at me that makes me want to spill my guts to him. It’s a tug-of-war with my secrets. Stay hidden deep inside or come to the surface to rest on Micah’s listening ear. I know I should be careful of every word I utter. I want to trust him, to tell someone the secrets I know. But I can’t. Not yet.
“Kinda nice to get away from all the hustle and bustle of The Institute. There aren’t any rules and regulations to follow here, you know?”
“Don’t you like to follow the rules, Micah?” It’s a joke, but as soon as I say it, I regret it, and I can’t tell if the look on his face is fear or something else. Whatever it is, it makes me regret it even more. “Sorry, that’s not what I meant.” This is the strangest date ever.
“No, it’s okay.” He fingers his coffee mug and then scratches his cheek. “Yeah, I follow the rules just like everyone else, but sometimes being here, listening to the water run over the rocks. It’s peaceful. Makes me wonder if anywhere else is different.”
“Different how?”
“Different from Sector 4.”
“It’s all the same. I’m sure of it.” For a moment, I feel like I’m talking to Taryn. We’ve had this conversation a million times before.
He looks up but doesn’t say anything. Suddenly, I feel like I must have worms crawling over my face or something. Who am I to make such a statement anyway? I know nothing about the other sectors. It just sounded like the right thing to say to get back to that playful side of him I saw on the walk here.
Finally, he breaks the awkward silence. “Don’t get me wrong. I love it here. I have a great job that I love, food to eat, a roof over my head. What more can I ask for? I mean, The Institute is only interested in our well-being, right? ‘Success and health for all.’” His attempt to sound enthusiastic falls short.
“So, do you have a secret place? Somewhere you can go to be alone? Get away from the rules.”
Now I wonder if he’s brought me here to test me somehow. Maybe he’s some sort of spy for The Institute, hired to track down dissenters or sympathizers. He sounds like he might have doubts about the way things are run around here, much like I do, but no one goes around talking about it to strangers on the street. Okay, so maybe I’m not a total stranger, but it’s not like he knows me very well. We’ve just started working together. I could totally report him for suspicious language against The Institute. But I won’t. Somehow, I assume, he knows this.
But what if I
’ve been noticed acting strange and someone is checking up on me using Micah to do it? Oh crap. All he’d have to do is to bring me to my own secret hiding spot, pretending to be a sympathizer himself and strike up a simple conversation. He could even be recording it right now. Then he goes back to The Institute, perhaps even to Fishgold himself, and tells him what he’s found out. It’s as simple as that. My future would be destroyed in one conversation.
Don’t say anything more. Give him nothing to analyze or tell anyone else. Do not, under any circumstances, give yourself away.
This date is a disaster. I should have known better.
As if reading my mind, he says, “Kate, you can trust me, you know.”
I nod. Of course I can’t.
It’s the closest we both come to revealing anything because I quickly change the subject.
“So, what do you like to do in your free time?”
He takes another sip of his coffee and stares across the river into the darkness. “Honestly, I don’t have much free time. Most of my day is spent in the lab. When I’m not working with your class, Professors Limbert and Donovan fill my time with menial tasks so it looks like we’re accomplishing something with our research. But when I do have time, I’m usually home alone.”
“Aren’t your folks ever around? What do they do?”
“They’re dead.”
Insert foot into mouth. “Oh, I’m so sorry. What happened?”
“Car accident when I was fifteen. I became Sector 4 property until three years ago.”
“Wait, were you the kid who was mangled in that crash? I was just researching that for my paper for Limbert’s class. You were the only survivor.”
Micah makes a sweeping motion with his hand and half bows from his seat on the ground. “Yours truly.”
“Wow! I’m sorry. About your folks, I mean. That was big news at the time.”
“Mmm hmm.”
“So, what happened?”
“The doctors fixed me up. I got a new face. End of story.”
He’s obviously uncomfortable, fidgeting with a pile of twigs near him.
“Well, they did a great job.”
He looks at me, confused.
“Your face,” I continue. “They did an awesome job. You can’t see any scarring or anything. It’s perfect.”
A small smirk appears on his lips, but it disappears almost instantly. His hand scratches through his stubble and feels along his jawline for what must be a hidden scar.
I stumble over my words. “I mean, you know, your face. It’s nice. Handsome.” As his grin grows bigger, I become more agitated. I must like him more than I originally thought for me to be this flustered. “I mean, if I had a doctor like that, I’d get a new face.”
“You don’t need a new face.” The way he’s looking at me makes me nervous.
“Sure, I’d fix my nose. I hate my nose. And my chin is too small. Maybe someday they’ll fix the chins. Make us all look the same. At least that way my great grandchildren won’t have to have this chin.”
Suddenly, his fingers brush my chin. The feeling of his chilled skin on my face sends a shiver down my spine. I can’t move, my eyes glued to his gaze. “I think your chin is perfect.” Smiling lightly, he lets go and looks out over the water.
The moon has risen above the horizon and with it brings a crispness to the air that makes me pull my jacket tighter around me. Micah starts to move, so I stretch my legs and stand up. When I move forward, however, my foot lands on wet leaves and mud that has clustered near the ravine bank, taking my leg out from under me. My hands flail, trying not to let my body fall over the edge and into the river, and I reach out for anything to grasp onto. Micah’s arm is the closest thing. Before I know it, he has both arms wrapped around me, pulling me from the edge of the chasm.
“Whoa, there. Let’s not fall into the river tonight. That’d be difficult to explain to your parents.” He smirks.
Right. Very funny.
His hands, which just a moment ago had a steady hold on my upper arms, slide gently to my elbows. His eyes pore over my face, searching for something as we hang, suspended in time. I feel myself melting into him despite that tiny voice of caution. It’s like some magnetic pull. Stepping into his body, I give in to those searching gray irises. His lips hover just over mine, and the air sparks between us. He leans forward.
I break our gaze and look at my feet, not knowing what stops me.
Taking a quick breath, Micah licks his lips. “Right. Sorry. Too soon,” he says, letting me pass. “Maybe I should get you home.”
“Sure. Yeah.” I tuck a lock of my stray hair behind my ear. “Good idea. It’s getting cold anyway.”
We walk back to my house in silence, his hand wrapped around mine. “Kate,” he whispers. “I had a nice time tonight. I’d like to do this again soon if that’s okay with you.”
I snicker to myself on the inside. That might be the sweetest lie a guy has ever said to me. If only he knew what went on in my head. That pull between wanting to trust him and thinking he might turn me in. If he knew, he’d most likely not be asking for a second date. I let it slide as I shift my gaze between the road and his face. “Yeah. That’d be fine.”
With that, I say good-bye and walk into my house. From the window, I see him linger for a minute before he heads down the street.
TEN
SET UP
MY PHONE RINGS EARLY on Saturday morning. I glance at the screen. Taryn. You’d think after being my lifelong friend, she’d know better than to call before 9:00 a.m. on a Saturday.
I clear my throat and flip open the phone. “Hey,” I say groggily.
“Did you just get up?”
“No. I was sleeping. Not up yet. Not everyone has the abnormal amount of energy you do, Taryn. You’re like a chipmunk on caffeine.”
“Well, get up and get moving. You need to get all your work done early today because we’re going out tonight.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes. And wear something sort of sexy. I hooked you up with a guy from my political science class.”
I let out a groan. “Taryn! Why do you do that?”
“Oh hush. He’s fine. You two will get along great. Besides, he’s hot, and so’s his best friend.”
“Lemme guess, you asked the friend out.”
“Yep. I considered dating them both at the same time, but I thought you might like a break from studies. These guys are definitely a good distraction.”
“Fine. What time?” I don’t tell her about my growing interest in Micah. We’ve only been out once and awkwardness seems to follow us everywhere, but that isn’t a good reason to give up.
“Seven. Meet us at the diner for some grub.”
By the time seven rolls around, I am ready to head out in a pair of jeans and a camisole. Taryn will probably frown on my outfit the moment she sees me, but I’m not up for impressing some guy I don’t even know. I throw a ruffled scarf around my neck, slip on a pair of earrings and examine myself in the mirror. It will have to do.
“Where you headed, Katie-Did?” Dad asks as I lace my shoes.
“Out with Taryn.”
“And …” He gives me a questioning look.
“And some guys I don’t know. Friends of Taryn’s from class. Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s recorded in the database.”
“Just be careful.”
“I know.”
Dad is always telling me to be careful. Most of the time, I ignore it and let it fly out of my head.
At the diner, Taryn, flanked by two guys, waits at the bar. One has his arm around Taryn’s shoulders—her date, obviously—and the other leans with one elbow against the counter. His back leg crosses at an angle, giving him an ultra-casual look. When he sees me walking toward them, he straightens up and smiles.
“We’re
getting it to go, so hurry up and order,” Taryn says sweetly.
I draw my ID card from my pants pocket and slip it into the computerized menu. A second later, choices that fit my body type, caloric intake, and weekly allowances pop up. I select a sandwich, figuring it’d be easier to consume picnic style than a messy plate of pasta. The whole time I watch out of the corner of my eyes to see Mr. Casual examining me with interest. I might have been disgusted by the way his eyes rove over my chest, but when my order comes, and he offers to carry it for me and even opens the door like a gentleman should, I give him the benefit of the doubt.
“I’m Saul,” he says with a shy grin.
“Kate.”
“Nice to meet you.” He holds the door as I pass through.
Dodging under his arm, I notice someone sitting in the far corner of the diner. Micah. He glowers when Saul takes my hand. As we walk outside, I can’t help but glance over my shoulder to see if he’s still looking at us through the window. He’s not. Instead, he stomps out the front doors and to a car parked across the lot. I hope he’s not mad. Though, by the look on his face, I’d venture to say he is. It’s not like we’re exclusive or anything. Heck, we’ve only gone out once.
I turn my attention back to Saul when he says, “Taryn talks about you all the time, so I’m glad I can finally put a face with a name.”
I glance at Taryn, who clings to her man’s arm. “What? I only say nice things, I promise,” she says.
“I don’t believe you for a second,” I say.
She laughs lightly as she introduces me to the guy standing beside her. “This is Cameron Jenkins.” She pats his chest with her free hand.
“Cam. Please. Just Cam. My grandmother calls me Cameron.”
I don’t have time to respond because Saul opens the door to the car, and I slide in. Cam and Taryn take the back, and I know from her flirty giggles that she’ll probably be spending the night in that back seat. I hope Saul isn’t the type who minds sharing his car for such a purpose.
