Justin nodded. “I’ve seen them,” he told me. “You photograph really well.”
“By the way, I heard you were supposed to take the night off,” Matt said.
Justin nodded again and slipped his phone into his jacket pocket. “I was hoping to have a date.”
“Sorry it didn’t work out,” Matt said.
Justin looked at me. “You don’t mind, do you, honey?” he asked me with a smile.
“Not at all, sweetie,” I said, and blew him a kiss.
Chapter Seven
Matt parked on the roadside in front of the Cliff. The restaurant offered only outdoor seating; the entire deck was covered with a white tent, and underneath, the canopy was dotted with yellow twinkling lights, like a private sky of stars. Heat fans blew warm air around us and we followed the hostess to the back of the balcony. A handful of tables were occupied with nocturnal life—some people in dresses and clubbing clothes and other people casual in shorts and flip-flops. Matt and Jeremy sat on one side of our booth, and I slid in next to Justin. His arm naturally looped around my back, and his fingers played with the zipper on my dress. I did my best to study the menu but I had to force my mind to concentrate on food.
The Cliff was an appropriate name for the restaurant, since it was built on a rock overhang that had formed during the Big Quake, a massive earthquake that hit Los Angeles in 2037. People still talk about it. Half of the seaside hotels, houses, streets, and freeways slipped into the ocean. It was the largest natural disaster to hit the United States. All of the major highways were ripped up and spat out in the quake, as if the earth had opened its mouth and tried a bite of concrete but didn’t like the taste. Underground subways in California have been banned ever since. Buildings have also changed dramatically since the quake. All the sky-rises (the one I live in included) are built on a layer of rollers, and the buildings themselves are made out of suber, a material that can bend and flex. Engineers declared these buildings indestructible in any natural disaster: floods, earthquakes, fires, and tsunamis. And they were proven right. There have been two substantial earthquakes since ’37, and sky news coverage observed the buildings in all their synthetic glory, waving and gliding easily with the swaying earth, as graceful as dancers on a stage.
One of the most impressive consequences of the quake was a giant fissure that cracked through the city, beginning at the ocean and snaking its way to East L.A., forming a narrow canyon. Ocean water rushed in to fill the open crevice, which is now called the Hollywood River. Most people avoided the space but a few downtown businesses were gutsy enough to build in the exposed earth.
Golden lamps surrounded us, and the canyon walls blocked the wind. I could smell the dusty rocks and the salt water and I could hear the water lapping the sides of the bank hundreds of feet below.
We ordered, and then after the waitress brought our drinks, Justin asked Jeremy how he escaped from the cops. “What did you mean when you said you were paranoid enough to get away?” he asked him.
Jeremy took a sip from his drink. “I’ll die before I go into a detention center,” he stated, and his hard eyes said he meant it. “My best friend was sent to one last year. He lived next door and we hung out all the time with a couple of kids in my neighborhood. We all hated DS. He was in the detention center for only three months.”
“What happened to him?” Justin asked.
“I don’t know,” Jeremy said. “He’s home, and we’ve talked, but I haven’t seen him. He says he’s fine and he’s happy but he won’t meet me face-to-face. I stopped by his house once, and he wouldn’t even leave his room to talk to me. We talked through a wall screen. And his parents say he’s cured. But if being cured means dying like that, I don’t want it,” he said. “So I keep a tranquilizer gun in my room. I sleep with it. I carry it everywhere, just in case. I had it with me when the cops showed up.”
Matt nodded. “We’ve done virtual interviews with former DC students. That’s all they agree to—they refuse to meet in person, even though some of them used to lead face-to-face groups.”
“And they all claim they’re fine,” Justin added. “But most of them are on antianxiety meds. It doesn’t translate. No one who works at a DC is willing to talk either. It’s the one system we haven’t been able to hack into.”
Jeremy looked around the table nervously, as if he thought we all expected something out of him.
“Listen, I really appreciate you all helping me out, but don’t think I’m going to join your side or anything.”
“It’s not a side,” Justin said. “It’s a state of mind.”
“Okay, whatever you want to call it, it’s pointless. You know that, right?”
“Pointless?” I asked.
“Yeah. It’s like having a local food drive to end world hunger. Your heart might be in the right place, but really, you’re not even making a dent in the problem.”
“I don’t want to make a dent. I want to inspire a revolution,” Justin clarified.
Jeremy smirked. “You can’t fight digital school,” he argued. “It’s the law. You might as well overthrow the government while you’re at it.”
I narrowed my eyes at this but Justin only looked amused.
“You’re right,” I said. “We might as well quit. We’ll just drop you off at the detention center on our way home.”
Jeremy’s smirk faded. “All I’m saying is remember who you’re up against. It’s not just the digital school; it’s our society in general. And the government doesn’t budge. It takes politicians twenty years to pass a new speed-limit law. You think you’re going to change DS anytime soon? Good luck.”
I watched Justin but he didn’t look discouraged. When people argued about his mission, it only fueled him. He seemed to thrive on proving people wrong.
“So how come no one intercepted me?” Jeremy asked.
“We have to be selective these days,” Justin said. “So many people are getting arrested we can’t keep up. We intercept only people we think will join us. No offense,” he added, “but someone who repeatedly gets busted for cheating isn’t high on our list of people we want to recruit.”
The waitress delivered a pizza, which she set on a metal stand in the center of our table. We passed plates around and scooped up slices, and the yellow cheese pulled apart like string.
“So what are you going to do if you actually win?” Jeremy asked.
“I’ll have my freedom back,” Justin said simply. “You think you’re free? You’re not. You live in a computer system. And you’re conditioned to think it’s the best thing for you. When it comes to technology, humans are as easy to train as rats in a cage.”
“What happens if you lose?” Jeremy pressed.
“I don’t see it as winning or losing. I’m just looking for a middle ground,” he said. “I get that technology is convenient and has its benefits. We definitely can’t live without it. We can’t go back to living in caves. But most people are so plugged in, they’re not even living in the real world. Our lives aren’t grounded by anything. Being too dependent on something makes you a slave to it. And I sure as hell won’t worship a digital screen. So I’m looking for a halfway point. A balance. It’s not just about ending digital school. It’s about having a choice.”
***
It was after three in the morning when Matt and Jeremy dropped us off at Pat and Noah’s apartment. When we got inside, Justin checked the rooms, and everyone was still out.
“The party couldn’t have been that bad,” he noted. I found some blankets and sleeping bags in the hall closet and we spread them out on the floor in Noah’s studio. The room smelled like electronic equipment.
Justin threw down some couch cushions for pillows.
“This is why I need my own apartment,” he said as we looked at our makeshift bed. He tugged his coat off and put it over a speaker and dove down on top of the pillows. He flipped over and sprawled out on the floor and then placed his hands behind his head and looked up at me.
“I’m not tir
ed,” I said. “It’s hard to get tired around you.”
“Even after tonight?” he asked.
I shook my head. “There’s always too many firsts. My first virtual club, my first attempt to shut it down, my first car accident, my first riverside restaurant. You’re always there for my firsts,” I said. “You’re like the tour guide of my life.”
He smiled. “It’s a fun job.”
I looked down at the hem of my short red dress. “I didn’t bring pajamas,” I said, and I could feel the blush warming my face.
“That dress wouldn’t be very comfortable to sleep in,” he pointed out, and he kicked off his shoes, flinging them to the side.
“You’re right,” I agreed. It was tight but stretchy with spandex and I easily pulled it over my head, which left me in just my heels and underwear.
“Off,” I said, and the lights snapped off. I slid off one shoe.
“On,” Justin said, and the circular overhead light snapped on again to reveal me. He smiled.
“Off,” I argued. This went on for a while, the light snapping on and off, until we both were laughing. Until he pulled me down on the soft blankets with him. We agreed to dim the lights.
***
The next morning I sprinted into my apartment; I could smell coffee brewing so I knew Joe was up. I turned the corner into the kitchen, which wasn’t much bigger than a storage closet, and Joe stood next to the counter, pouring a cup of coffee.
For a second I had a flash of my perfect life: Justin living in Los Angeles. Finishing DS and finally being free from my probation, my parents’ control, and my past. Meeting my brother for coffee. Clubbing with Clare and hanging out at Noah’s concerts. Trying to bring back face-to-face classes and jobs. For the first time ever, everything was falling into place, and my life was becoming a clear, solid picture that was focused and centered and colorful.
“Nice timing,” Joe said, and started pouring a second mug.
“Sorry, I’m in a hurry.” I had just enough time to shower and change before I met Justin downtown. He was leaving for San Diego tonight and I was determined to spend every possible second with him. We had a list of apartments to tour before he left.
“Give me five minutes,” he said, and offered me the mug. “I want to talk to you.” I glanced at the clock on the refrigerator wall screen and back at Joe.
“Okay, three minutes,” I offered. I took the coffee and slid onto a stool next to the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. It was so rare we spent any one-on-one time together, I didn’t want to pass it up.
Joe studied the wrinkled T-shirt and shorts that Justin had loaned me and the plastic bag I was holding, which had my dress and shoes inside. “Where have you been?” he asked, and glanced at the tennis shoes that I’d borrowed from Clare’s suitcase.
I considered skirting around the truth but reminded myself that Joe wasn’t my dad. I took a chance.
“Justin’s in town,” I said, and felt a girlish grin brush my face.
His eyebrows rose. “That’s who you were with last night? You told me you were going out with Clare.”
I sighed and set the bag on the floor near my feet. Bringing up Justin’s name around Joe usually sparked a heated debate. I couldn’t blame Joe for resenting him—it was true that he encouraged my rebellious side. But that side was dormant only because Dad had smothered me with regulations for so long. I was just living in a shadow. It was interesting that two such vastly different men had had the greatest impact on my life.
“He met up with us,” I said, like it wasn’t a big deal.
Joe sat down on a stool next to me. “You know something, Maddie? I really don’t think Justin’s your type.”
I fought a groan and took a sip of coffee. Do older brothers feel it’s their birthright to screen who their younger sisters date? “You don’t know my type,” I assured him.
“I have some friends who are single, if you’re looking for a boyfriend.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at the idea of anyone replacing Justin.
“Great,” I said. “I’d love it if you’d pimp me out to your friends. Are you going to introduce me as your juvenile-delinquent little sister?” I knew I was being a brat but I was tired of my family condemning me for dating the most amazing person I’d ever met.
“I will if you act like one,” he said, and his face was serious. “What about your friend Pat?”
“Pat?”
“He’s into you. He’s unplugged, as you like to refer to it. And he isn’t running from the cops on a daily basis.”
“That’s no fun,” I said, and Joe frowned. “He’s Justin’s cousin,” I pointed out. “And he knows we’re just friends.”
Joe shook his head. “Guys don’t want girls as friends,” he told me. “If he’s hanging out with you, it’s because he thinks he has a chance.”
“Whatever,” I said, and took another sip. I told my brother it was none of his business who I dated. I never picked on the girls he liked. “Not that I care, but why don’t you think Justin’s my type?”
“Other than the fact he’s leading a revolt against our father?” Joe asked. He scrunched up his face. “I don’t know. He’s kind of a hippie.”
I set down my cup and stared at him. “People still use that term?” I asked, and Joe shrugged. “He is not a hippie. He’s like James Bond in blue jeans,” I said with a smile.
“Well, when your tree-hugging Bond boy leaves and goes running around trying to save the world, what are you going to do?”
“Probably help him,” I said.
“So you’ve decided to join his side?”
“I’m leaning that way. Why fight gravity?”
Joe’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t learn anything from your mistakes, do you?”
“Mistakes are simply a matter of opinion,” I said. “Joe, I’ve had full-time babysitters my entire life. I could really use a break. I know it’s well intended and I appreciate you care, but there’s a fine line between caring and controlling. And I’m very sensitive when someone’s trying to breach that line.”
Joe stared at me like he didn’t recognize me. “Who are you and what did you do with my baby sister?”
I took another sip of coffee and gave him a proud smile. “I grew up, Joe. It’s finally me.”
He nodded slowly. “That’s what I was afraid of.” He rubbed his finger thoughtfully along the rim of his white mug.
“Paul called me last night,” he said. “He saw footage that people took of you at the dance club. He was wondering why you weren’t keeping a low profile since you’re supposed to be in the LADC.”
“Paul Thompson?” I asked, my throat already tight. “What did you tell him?”
“I told him the truth. That you were still hanging out with DS dropouts.”
I stared at the ceiling. “Why would you tell him that, Joe?”
“He’s a good friend. The Thompsons are like family to us.”
“Paul Thompson wants to see me burned at the stake. His dad’s my probation officer. What were you thinking? You should have just dropped me off at the LADC.”
“What were you thinking?” he shot back. “Paul told me you helped out with an interception. And you crashed a cop car? This isn’t funny anymore, Maddie. This is serious. You could have killed someone.”
“That’s what airbags are for. They’re designed to withstand impacts at over sixty miles an hour.”
“What are you, some secret agent all of a sudden? One of the cops is in the hospital with broken ribs and a punctured lung. How do you feel about being responsible for that?”
I looked down at my lap and felt terrible. “I’m sorry. We didn’t plan the interception; it just happened. That kid stopped our shuttle and we were only trying to help.”
“You help the wrong people,” Joe insisted. “Don’t you see that? Maybe you shouldn’t be hanging around Justin anymore. The guy’s bringing you down.” He looked away from me and sighed. “I did some researc
h and the LADC doesn’t sound that bad. It’s a rehabilitation clinic. It might really help you.”
I stood up and tried to laugh but it got caught in my throat. It sounded like a whimper. “I’m getting out of here. Nice talk. Now I get to go into hiding again.”
We were interrupted by a knock at the front door. I looked at Joe with suspicion, but he refused to meet my eyes. No one ever knocked on our door. For a second I foolishly thought it was Justin, but he knew better than to come up here; he knew where he wasn’t welcome.
“What’s going on, Joe?”
“You should get the door,” he told me. “It’s for you.”
The muscles tightened around my lips. “Open,” I told the sensor, and the door unlocked.
Two tall uniformed figures walked in. My first instinct was to run but my feet were locked in place. Damon and Paul blocked the only exit in the apartment. They stared at me and their faces held identical cocky grins.
“We meet again,” Damon said.
“It’s been a while,” Paul added.
I glared at Joe. “You knew they were coming all along?”
“Sorry, Maddie,” Joe said. “I just care about you. I don’t want to see you throw your life away because you’re too naive to know what you’re doing.”
I slumped down onto the stool and pressed my face into my hands. I wondered if there was a website where you could buy and trade brothers because my current one sucked. Disownyourfamily.com. I’d have to look into it.
“It was a cute prank,” Paul said.
I looked up at him and rolled my eyes.
“Is this your new goal?” he asked. “To free the world one digital dance club at a time?” He laughed at his own joke.
“How thoughtful of you to come all the way down here to be my personal escort,” I said.
He asked for my hands; I grudgingly raised my arms and he slapped metal handcuffs around my wrists. “My dad and I made a special trip down here to keep your arrest private. That way no one could intercept you this time. Nobody knows about this. We were open to working with you and your father until you almost killed a cop last night.”
Middle Ground Page 6
