by Tahereh Mafi
It made me wish I’d had a sister. Or a mother. Someone to learn from and lean on. A woman to teach me how to be brave in this body, among these men.
I’ve never had that.
Instead, I was raised on a steady diet of taunts and jeers, jabs at my heart, slaps in the face. Told repeatedly I was worthless. A monster.
Never loved. Never protected from the world.
Nazeera doesn’t seem to care at all what other people think, and I wish so much that I had her confidence. I know I’ve changed a lot—that I’ve come a long way from who I used to be—but I want more than anything to just be confident and unapologetic about who I am and how I feel, and not have to try so hard all the time. I’m still working on that part of myself.
“Right,” Kenji is saying. “Yeah. Pretty angry. But—”
“Excuse me?”
At the sound of her voice we both spin around.
“Speak of the devil,” Kenji says under his breath.
“I’m sorry—I think I’m lost,” Nazeera says. “I thought I knew this building pretty well, but there’s a bunch of construction going on and it’s . . . throwing me off. Can either of you tell me how to get outside?”
She almost smiles.
“Oh, sure,” I say, and almost smile back. “Actually”—I pause—“I think you might be on the wrong side of the building. Do you remember which entrance you came in from?”
She stops to think. “I think we’re staying on the south side,” she says, and flashes me a full, real smile for the first time. Then falters. “Wait. I think it was the south side. I’m sorry,” she says, frowning. “I just arrived a couple of hours ago—Haider got here before me—”
“I totally understand,” I say, cutting her off with a wave. “Don’t worry—it took me a while to navigate the construction, too. Actually, you know what? Kenji knows his way around even better than I do. This is Kenji, by the way—I don’t think you guys were formally introduced tonight—”
“Yeah, hi,” she says, her smile gone in an instant. “I remember.”
Kenji is staring at her like an idiot. Eyes wide, blinking. Lips parted ever so slightly. I poke his arm and he yelps, startled, but comes back to life. “Oh, right,” he says quickly. “Hi. Hi—yeah, hi, um, sorry about dinner.”
She raises an eyebrow at him.
And for the first time in all the time I’ve known him, Kenji actually blushes. Blushes. “No, really,” he says. “I, uh, I think your—scarf—is, um, really cool.”
“Uh-huh.”
“What’s it made of?” he says, reaching forward to touch her head. “It looks so soft—”
She slaps his hand away, recoiling visibly even in this dim light. “What the hell? Are you serious right now?”
“What?” Kenji blinks, confused. “What’d I do?”
Nazeera laughs, her expression a mixture of confusion and vague disgust. “How are you so bad at this?”
Kenji freezes in place, his mouth agape. “I don’t, um—I just don’t know, like, what the rules are? Like, can I call you sometime or—”
I laugh suddenly, loud and awkward, and pinch Kenji in the arm.
Kenji swears out loud. Shoots me an angry look.
I plant a bright smile on my face and speak only to Nazeera. “So, yeah, um, if you want to get to the south exit,” I say quickly, “your best bet is to go back down the hall and make three lefts. You’ll see the double doors on your right—just ask one of the soldiers to take you from there.”
“Thanks,” Nazeera says, returning my smile before shooting a weird look in Kenji’s direction. He’s still massaging his injured shoulder as he waves her a weak good-bye.
It’s only after she’s gone again that I finally spin around, hiss, “What the hell is wrong with you?” and Kenji grabs my arm, goes weak in the knees, and says,
“Oh my God, J, I think I’m in love.”
I ignore him.
“No, seriously,” he says, “like, is this what that is? Because I’ve never been in love before, so I don’t know if this is love or if I just have, like, food poisoning?”
“You don’t even know her,” I say, rolling my eyes, “so I’m guessing it’s probably food poisoning.”
“You think so?”
I glance up at him, eyes narrowed, but one look is all it takes to lose my thread of anger. His expression is so weird and silly—so slap-happy—I almost feel bad for him.
I sigh, shoving him forward. He keeps stopping in place for no reason. “I don’t know. I think maybe you’re just, you know—attracted to her? God, Kenji, you gave me so much crap for acting like this over Adam and Warner and now here you are, being all hormonal—”
“Whatever. You owe me.”
I frown at him.
He shrugs, still beaming. “I mean, I know she’s probably a sociopath. And, like, would definitely murder me in my sleep. But damn she’s, wow,” he says. “She’s, like, batshit pretty. The kind of pretty that makes a man think getting murdered in his sleep might not be a bad way to go.”
“Yeah,” I say, but I say it quietly.
“Right?”
“I guess.”
“What do you mean, you guess? I wasn’t asking a question. That girl is objectively beautiful.”
“Sure.”
Kenji stops, takes my shoulders in his hands. “What is your deal, J?”
“I don’t know what you’re—”
“Oh my God,” he says, stunned. “Are you jealous?”
“No,” I say, but I practically yell the word at him.
He’s laughing now. “That’s crazy. Why are you jealous?”
I shrug, mumble something.
“Wait, what’s that?” He cups his hand over his ear. “You’re worried I’m going to leave you for another woman?”
“Shut up, Kenji. I’m not jealous.”
“Aw, J.”
“I’m not. I swear. I’m not jealous. I’m just—I’m just . . .”
I’m having a hard time.
But I never have a chance to say the words. Kenji suddenly picks me up, spins me around and says, “Aw, you’re so cute when you’re jealous—”
And I kick him in the knee. Hard.
He drops me to the floor, grabs his leg, and shouts words so foul I don’t even recognize half of them. I sprint away, half guilty, half pleased, his promises to kick my ass in the morning echoing after me as I go.
WARNER
I’ve joined Juliette on her morning walk today.
She seems deeply nervous now, more so than ever before, and I blame myself for not better preparing her for what she might face as supreme commander. She came back to our room last night in a panic, said something about wishing she spoke more languages, and then refused to talk about it.
I feel like she’s hiding from me.
Or maybe I’ve been hiding from her.
I’ve been so absorbed in my own head, in my own issues, that I haven’t had much of a chance to speak with her, at length, about how she’s doing lately. Yesterday was the first time she’d ever brought up her worries about being a good leader, and it makes me wonder how long these fears have been wearing away at her. How long she’s been bottling everything up. We have to find more time to talk this all through; but I worry we might both be drowning in revelations.
I’m certain I am.
My mind is still full of Castle’s nonsense. I’m fairly certain he’ll be proven misinformed, that he’s misunderstood some crucial detail. Still, I’m desperate for real answers, and I haven’t yet had a chance to go through my father’s files.
So I remain here, in this uncertain state.
I’d been hoping to find some time today, but I don’t trust Haider and Nazeera to be alone with Juliette. I gave her the space she needed when she first met Haider, but leaving her alone with them now would just be irresponsible. Our visitors are here for all the wrong reasons and likely looking for any reason to play cruel mental Olympics with her emotions. I’d be surprised if t
hey didn’t want to terrify and confuse her. To bully her into cowardice. And I’m beginning to worry.
There’s so much Juliette doesn’t know.
I think I’ve not made enough of an effort to imagine how she must be feeling. I take too much for granted in this military life, and things that seem obvious to me are still brand-new to her. I need to remember that. I need to tell her that she has her own armory. That she has a fleet of private cars; a personal chauffeur. Several private jets and pilots at her disposal. And then I wonder, suddenly, whether she’s ever been on a plane.
I stop, suspended in thought.
Of course she hasn’t. She has no recollection of a life lived anywhere but in Sector 45. I doubt she’s ever gone for a swim, much less sailed on a ship in the middle of the ocean. She’s never lived anywhere but in books and memories.
There’s still so much she has to learn. So much to overcome. And while I sympathize deeply with her struggles, I really do not envy her in this, the enormity of the task ahead. After all, there’s a simple reason I never wanted the job of supreme commander myself—
I never wanted the responsibility.
It’s a tremendous amount of work with far less freedom than one might expect; worse, it’s a position that requires a great deal of people skills. The kind of people skills that include both killing and charming a person at a moment’s notice. Two things I detest.
I tried to convince Juliette that she was perfectly capable of stepping into my father’s shoes, but she doesn’t seem at all persuaded. And with Haider and Nazeera now here, I understand why she seems more uncertain than ever. The two of them—well, it was only Haider, really—asked to join Juliette on her morning walk to the water this morning. She and Kenji had been discussing the matter under their breaths, but Haider has sharper hearing than we suspected. So here we are, the five of us walking along the beach in an awkward silence. Haider and Juliette and I have unintentionally formed a group. Nazeera and Kenji follow some paces behind.
No one is speaking.
Still, the beach isn’t a terrible place to spend a morning, despite the strange stench arising from the water. It’s actually rather peaceful. The sounds of the breaking waves make for a soothing backdrop against the otherwise already-stressful day.
“So,” Haider finally says to me, “will you be attending the Continental Symposium this year?”
“Of course,” I answer quietly. “I will attend as I always have.” A pause. “Will you be returning home to attend your own event?”
“Unfortunately not. Nazeera and I were hoping to accompany you to the North American arm, but of course—I wasn’t sure if Supreme Commander Ferrars”—he glances at Juliette—“would be making an appearance, so—”
She leans in, eyes wide. “I’m sorry, what are we talking about?”
Haider frowns only a little in response, but I can feel the depth of his surprise. “The Continental Symposium,” he says. “Surely you’ve heard of it?”
Juliette looks at me, confused, and then—
“Oh, yes, of course,” she says, remembering. “I’ve gotten a bunch of letters about that. I didn’t realize it was such a big deal.”
I have to fight the impulse to cringe.
This was another oversight on my part.
Juliette and I have talked about the symposium, of course, but only briefly. It’s a biannual congress of all 555 regents from across the continent. Every sector leader gathered in one place.
It’s a massive production.
Haider tilts his head, studying her. “Yes, it’s a very big deal. Our father,” he says, “is busy preparing for the Asia event, so it’s been on my mind quite a bit lately. But as the late Supreme Anderson never attended public gatherings, I wondered whether you would be following in his footsteps.”
“Oh, no, I’ll be there,” Juliette says quickly. “I’m not hiding from the world the way he did. Of course I’ll be there.”
Haider’s eyes widen slightly. He looks from me to her and back again.
“When is it, exactly?” she says, and I feel Haider’s curiosity grow suddenly more intense.
“You’ve not looked at your invitation?” he asks, all innocence. “The event is in two days.”
She suddenly turns away, but not before I see that her cheeks are flushed. I can feel her sudden embarrassment and it breaks my heart. I hate Haider for toying with her like this.
“I’ve been very busy,” she says quietly.
“It’s my fault,” I cut in. “I was supposed to follow up on the matter and I forgot. But we’ll be finalizing the program today. Delalieu is already hard at work arranging all the details.”
“Wonderful,” Haider says to me. “Nazeera and I look forward to joining you. We’ve never been to a symposium outside of Asia before.”
“Of course,” I say. “We’ll be delighted to have you with us.”
Haider looks Juliette up and down then, examining her outfit, her hair, her plain, worn tennis shoes; and though he says nothing, I can feel his disapproval, his skepticism and ultimately—his disappointment in her.
It makes me want to throw him in the ocean.
“What are your plans for the rest of your stay here?” I ask, watching him closely now.
He shrugs, perfect nonchalance. “Our plans are fluid. We’re only interested in spending time with all of you.” He glances at me. “Do old friends really need a reason to see each other?” And for a moment, the briefest moment, I sense genuine pain behind his words. A feeling of neglect.
It surprises me.
And then it’s gone.
“In any case,” Haider is saying, “I believe Supreme Commander Ferrars has already received a number of letters from our other friends. Though it seems their requests to visit were met with silence. I’m afraid they felt a bit left out when I told them Nazeera and I were here.”
“What?” Juliette says, glancing at me before looking back at Haider. “What other friends? Do you mean the other supreme commanders? Because I haven’t—”
“Oh—no,” Haider says. “No, no, not the other commanders. Not yet, anyway. Just us kids. We were hoping for a little reunion. We haven’t gotten the whole group together in far too long.”
“The whole group,” Juliette says softly. Then she frowns. “How many more kids are there?”
Haider’s fake exuberance turns suddenly strange. Cold. He looks at me with both anger and confusion when he says, “You’ve told her nothing about us?”
Now Juliette is staring at me. Her eyes widen perceptibly; I can feel her fear spike. And I’m still trying to figure out how to tell her not to worry when Haider clamps down on my arm, hard, and pulls me forward.
“What are you doing?” he whispers, the words urgent, violent. “You turned your back on all of us—for what? For this? For a child? Inta kullish ghabi,” he says. “So very, very stupid. And I promise you, habibi, this won’t end well.”
There’s a warning in his eyes.
I feel it then, when he suddenly lets go—when he unlocks a secret deep within his heart—and something awful settles into the pit of my stomach. A feeling of nausea. Terrible dread.
And I finally understand:
The commanders are sending their children to do the groundwork here because they don’t think it’s worth their time to come themselves. They want their offspring to infiltrate and examine our base—to use their youth to appeal to the new, young supreme commander of North America, to fake camaraderie—and, ultimately, to send back information. They’re not interested in forging alliances.
They’re only here to figure out how much work it will take to destroy us.
I turn away, anger threatening to undo my composure, and Haider clamps down harder on my arm. I meet his eyes. It’s only my determination to keep things civil for Juliette’s sake that prevents me from breaking his fingers off my body.
Hurting Haider would be enough to start a world war.
And he knows this.
“
What’s happened to you?” he says, still hissing in my ear. “I didn’t believe it when I first heard that you’d fallen in love with some idiot psychotic girl. I had more faith in you. I defended you. But this,” he says, shaking his head, “this is truly heartbreaking. I can’t believe how much you’ve changed.”
My fingers tense, itching to form fists, and I’m just about to respond when Juliette, who’s been watching us closely from a distance, says, “Let go of him.”
And there’s something about the steadiness of her voice, something about the barely restrained fury in her words that captures Haider’s attention.
He drops my arm, surprised. Spins around.
“Touch him one more time,” Juliette says quietly, “and I will rip your heart out of your body.”
Haider stares at her. “Excuse me?”
She steps forward. She looks suddenly terrifying. There’s a fire in her eyes. A murderous stillness in her movements. “If I ever catch you putting your hands on him again, I will tear open your chest,” she says, “and rip out your heart.”
Haider’s eyebrows fly up his forehead. He blinks. Hesitates. And then: “I didn’t realize that was something you could do.”
“For you,” she says, “I’d do it with pleasure.”
Now, Haider smiles. Laughs, out loud. And for the first time since he’s arrived, he actually looks sincere. His eyes crinkle with delight. “Would you mind,” he says to her, “if I borrowed your Warner for a bit? I promise I won’t put my hands on him. I’d just like to speak with him.”
She looks at me then, a question in her eyes.
But I can only smile at her. I want to scoop her up and carry her away. Take her somewhere quiet and lose myself in her. I love that the girl who blushes so easily in my arms is the same one who would kill a man for hurting me.
“I won’t be long,” I say.
And she returns my smile, her face transformed once again. It lasts only a couple of seconds, but somehow time slows down long enough for me to gather the many details of this moment and place it among my favorite memories. I’m grateful, suddenly, for this unusual, supernatural gift I have for sensing emotions. It’s still my secret, known only by a few—a secret I’d managed to keep from my father, and from the other commanders and their children. I like how it makes me feel separate—different—from the people I’ve always known. But best of all, it makes it possible for me to know how deeply Juliette loves me. I can always feel the rush of emotion in her words, in her eyes. The certainty that she would fight for me. Protect me. And knowing this makes my heart feel so full that, sometimes, when we’re together, I can hardly breathe.
