Saven Deception (10 page)

“Only six more days to Thalassic City and
then we can be together.” He sits up straighter in his chair.

My eyes glisten with anticipation. “I’m
already on a countdown,” I admit truthfully.

“Sadie, I…” He drags his hands through his
hair, sending it scurrying in all directions. He couldn’t look any sexier if he
tried. “I want you to know that this is real for me. I can’t explain it. I
doubt you can either, but I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. My
soul belongs with yours, I’m certain of it.”

I’m speechless. His words penetrate my
heart, mind, and soul, sinking so completely as to become an inherent part of
who I am.

I wish I could magically project through
the screen, fling myself into his arms, and never let him go.

***

I pretty much float back to the dorm high on a heady love buzz.
Oh, yeah, I’m fully onboard the crazy train now. Lifelong ticketholder. I
chortle to myself.

The sounds of sobbing confront me the
minute I sneak into the room. My giddy mood dissipates on the spot. Jenna is
facing the wall, crying softly into her pillow.

“Jen? What’s wrong?”

“I think you were right about Dante,” she
sniffles.

A few of the girls stir in their beds, and
I intercept a couple of irritated murmurs. “Let’s talk in the living room.”
Taking her hand, I coax her out of the bed and into her robe. We pad quietly
out of the room.

“Here, drink this.” I thrust a mug of
sweet hot tea into her hand and join her on the couch.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, in between
sniffles. I sip my tea while I wait for her to talk. “I don’t know what I’m
doing,” she admits. I peer earnestly into her eyes. “When I’m with Dante, I
feel fantastic, but as soon as we separate, I’m flooded with doubt. I don’t
actually know why I’m with him at all because I really like Odie, but I think
I’ve totally blown it now.” Her sobs pick up pace.

 “You don’t know that until you talk to
him. It’s clear he likes you, and Dante obviously realizes that too, hence why
he went all gung-ho on him this evening. Is Odie going to be okay?” I hand her
a tissue.

“Yeah. He’s a bit battered and bruised,
but nothing is broken, thank God. He refused to speak to me afterwards. I think
he’s finished with me now.” Her expression is full of remorse and regret.

“Give him time to cool off. Hopefully
he’ll come around.”

***

The next two days pass without incident. Odie is giving
Jenna the silent treatment, and she’s growing more and more despondent. We
stick to each other like glue, and I’m feeling very protective of her. Dante
hovers like a thundercloud on a stormy day. I avail of every opportunity to
glare at him. It must be working because he doesn’t approach Jenna, though he
watches her with possessive intensity, like a stalker in training.

I’m grateful Jenna needs me because it
means I don’t spend every single solitary minute thinking and dreaming of
Logan.

Only every second one.

Neve and I spend the night in the library
devouring books. While her reaction to Dante’s attack on Odie bugs me—and no
matter how I try to justify it, I can’t understand it or relate to it—I can’t
deny how much I’ve come to enjoy her company.

***

I’m skulking down the corridor at five minutes to midnight,
fervently hoping no one’s around. I tug self-consciously on the hem of my red
dress, willing it to miraculously grow another few inches before I reach the
library. Logan begged me to wear it for him tonight. I didn’t want to admit
that it’s too short, far too tight, and that I can barely breathe in it, let
alone speak.

Up ahead, the sound of hushed bickering
tickles my ears. My feet take root on the ground. A quick glance at my watch
tells me there’s no time to go back and change: I hate to keep Logan waiting.
Slinking along the corridor with my back flat to the wall, I pray I’m not
spotted. I’ve no idea how to explain that I’m dressed as if I’m going on a real
date.

When I reach the top of the corridor, I
tentatively peep around the corner. Neve is reclining against the entrance to
the male dorm, her back to me, talking animatedly to someone hidden behind the
doorframe. I’m instantly intrigued though I don’t have time to dwell on it. I
risk another fleeting glance. They are totally engrossed in their conversation,
and I reckon I should be able to dash undetected to the other side. Blessing
myself, I race across the corridor to the library door.

I’m almost on the home stretch when Neve’s
head whips around and she sees me. Dammit to hell and back. Now I’ll have to
bring her into my confidence about Logan, which is something I didn’t plan on
sharing yet. Besides Jenna, no one else knows anything about him. Until I
figure out exactly what’s going on between us, I’d planned to keep him a
secret.

If it all blows up in my face, the less
people that know, the better.

Carefully, I close the door behind me and
log on to my D-pad.

“Wow,” Logan says, the minute the screen
activates, “you look gorgeous. Red is most definitely your color.” His eyes
shimmer with blatant admiration.

“Thanks.” I accept his compliment
graciously. I glance apprehensively over my shoulder. “We may have company in a
sec. I’ve been busted.” He looks inquisitively at me. I open my mouth to
explain, but I’m silenced by the vulgar slamming of the door.

“Sadie, why the hell are you dressed …”
Neve’s mouth hangs open as she spies Logan on the screen. Her eyes dart between
the screen and me, and her head flits from one of us to the other so fast I
feel dizzy looking at her. “What’s going on, Sadie?” Her pupils narrow to pinpricks
as she flings a suspicious look at me.  “What are you doing?”

I’m not sure where to start, but it’s only
after I open my mouth to speak that I realize she hasn’t directed that last question
at me.
Wait? What?
Neve’s expression is thunderous as she glowers at
Logan. Her hands are fisted so tight at her sides that her knuckles blanch
white with the effort. My attention diverts to Logan, and his eyes are locked
on Neve. They stare at each other without uttering a word, and the atmosphere
is cloaked with obvious tension.

What is going on here?
“Neve?” I tug on her sleeve. She doesn’t budge an inch, so I tug harder. She is
staring at Logan and I don’t like that one little bit. “Neve!” I yell. “What
are you doing?”

“Sadie?” Her face registers confusion and
then amusement, and that irks me no end.

“What’s going on? Do you two know each
other, or something?” It’s the  “or something” part I’m most worried about.

Twisting my head to look at the screen, I
stagger back and gasp.

The screen is blank.

Logan is gone.

He didn’t even say goodbye.

I’m certain my face registers the hurt and confusion I feel,
but Neve looks at me as if what’s happened is nothing out of the ordinary. My
level of distrust has skyrocketed and I’m suddenly wary.

“What just happened? Why did Logan leave?”
It makes absolutely no sense. They didn’t even speak. She shoots a “How the
hell do I know?” look my way. It does nothing to appease my suspicion. “Do you
know him … or something?” Inwardly, I cringe in preparation.

“Nope.” She elegantly tosses her long,
blonde hair.

“I don’t believe you.” My stare is
challenging.

“Look, forget about him,” she says,
seizing my forearms. “I’ve something I want to ask you.”

Extracting myself from her grip, I pitch
an incredulous look at her. “I don’t want to forget about him. I want to know
why you got so mad when you noticed him. Tell me.” I’m only short of stomping
my foot.

She stares right through me and I’m
seething. Grabbing my D-pad, I fling a filthy look her way as my fingers grip
the door handle.

“Wait,” Neve says, moving toward me. “I
wanted to ask if you’d share an apartment with me when we get to Thalassic
City.”

That stops me dead in my tracks. Spinning
around, I stare at her in surprise, incredulous that she can dismiss what’s
transpired. Briefly, I wonder if she’s delusional or suffering from some form
of mental illness. “No. I already promised Jen.” I grit out harshly. “And quite
frankly, Neve, unless you’re planning on being truthful, I’m not sure I want
anything more to do with you.”

“You don’t mean that,” she says in a
shocked tone.

“Eh, yeah, I do.”

“Are you all so melodramatic?” Her
expression is one of bewildered amusement.

Anger solidifies inside me at her
accusation, especially with the realization that the “all” she refers to is
clearly a reference to the lower class. Guess there’s a reason why the
government keeps bullions and stars separated, if Neve’s attitude is typical of
the upper-class mindset. How I could’ve ever felt a connection to someone like
her is unfathomable in this moment, and I curse my stupid naivety.  “Are you
going to tell me the truth?”

“There’s nothing to tell.” She looks like
butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, but I’m not buying it.

“Stay away from me,” I tell her. “Unless
you’re prepared to explain yourself.”

Stupid tears stab at my eyes as I storm
off down the corridor. I quickly swipe them away. Neve runs after me and fists
a hand in my shirt.

“I value your friendship, Sadie.  Let’s
not fall out over this, please.” She smiles sweetly as if all it will take to
win me over are a few trite words and a sickly sweet smile.

How little she must think of me. “I meant
what I said. Leave me alone.” Shoving her arm away, I stride to my dorm and
fling myself down on the bed.

Once I’ve showered, changed, and given
myself time to calm down, I snuggle under my comforter and open up my D-pad. No
messages from Logan, which only adds to the confusion I feel. No matter how
many times I replay it in my mind, I cannot make any sense of what transpired
tonight. Did Neve’s evil eye send him running scared or is there more to it
than that? Only one way to find out, I suppose. Considering Neve gave up
nothing, I’ll have to ask him.

I tap out a quick message asking him to
explain what’s wrong.

An hour later and I still have no reply.
An unpleasant sensation ties my stomach in knots, and I’ve all but chewed my
fingernails to the bone. Something is wrong and it’s killing me that I don’t
know what or why.

I send off another message: Write me,
PLEASE.

And another one thirty minutes later.

After the fourth message, I force myself
to stop acting like a crazy stalker. He clearly doesn’t want to speak to me. Or
he could be asleep. Either way, I warn myself not to send any more messages
lest I come off like the desperate freak I am.

***

The dorm roars to life the next morning, and the room
buzzes with high-pitched banter as the girls wake up. Logan still hasn’t
replied to my messages. A heavy weight presses down on me, and I want to slip
under the covers and stay there for eternity.

However, Jenna has other ideas. “Hey, sleepyhead.”
She lands on the corner of my bed. Peeling the comforter back, she inspects me
quizzically. “What’s up with you?”

My natural reaction is to say nothing,
tell her I’m fine, plant a fake happy smile on my face, and swing my dejected
body out of bed. I’m an accomplished autopilot pleasant girl, and I could do
that today if I had to. But the need to vent overrides everything, and I spill
my guts without further encouragement.

“Okay, so, I’m with you on the whole
bizarre thing, because that is fricking weird,” she says, after I’ve finished
telling her about Logan and Neve’s mammoth face-off last night and his lack of
contact since. “What do you think the deal is with them?”

I chew on my cheek. “I’ve thought of
nothing else all night long, and the only logical conclusion I can reach is
that they know each other, and there’s some kind of history between them.” It
pains me to articulate that, but honestly, it’s the only thing that makes
sense. For him to get up and leave like that, and cut me off as he apparently
has—despite the things he’s told me to date—doesn’t make any sense unless she
meant, or means, something to him. And it’s not that much of a stretch. While
they’re from different states, they’re both bullions, and the same age, and who
knows how they could have met?

“I hate to say it,” Jenna says, puckering
her lips, “but I think you’re right. I mean, they didn’t even speak, right?”
She looks to me for affirmation and I nod. “They must know each other well if
they can convey their meaning through silent looks alone.”

Something sour twists in my heart, and I
curse myself for foolishly believing Logan when he said he didn’t have much
experience with girls. Deep down, I knew there was no way that statement was
true, yet I persisted in indulging the stupid fantasy. I was right all along.
No one like him would ever be interested in someone like me despite the
relaxation of the laws. It was more than naïve to allow myself to wallow in the
dream: It was destructive on a massive scale.

I figure I have two choices. I can sit
around crying my eyes out all day, or I can pick myself up, dust myself off,
and focus on the things that actually matter, like the impending journey to
Thalassic City. If anything, it’ll be a welcome distraction. If I’d only stuck
to my guns from the start, I wouldn’t be in this quagmire right now.

Boys mess with your mind, at the extent of
everything else.

From now on, nothing, or no one, is going
to distract me from my goals.

***

It’s well into the afternoon, and Logan still hasn’t
responded to any of my messages. It’s pretty much all the confirmation I need.
Sighing, I attempt to deflect the “woe is me” look from my face.

I’m crouched over the screen, trying to
narrow down my options, but I can’t decide between Psychology and Drama. We get
to choose three additional modules on top of core subjects, and I’m already
dead-set on taking Politics and Government and Business. To be honest, the idea
of studying drama raises goose bumps the size of golf balls to the surface of
my skin, but it’s exactly what I need to help overcome my aversion to words.

Though the issue isn’t with the actual
words—it’s learning to untape my mouth after a lifetime of sealing it shut. And
I’m not shy per se; it’s more that I am skilled in the art of silence and
evasion. Learning to open up—to release my innermost thoughts and feelings—is
the true challenge.

Occupying other characters and performing
on a stage in front of an audience should rectify my issues with the spoken
word. But I’ve always had a fascination for human nature and the inner workings
of the human mind in particular, and I’d love the opportunity to scientifically
explore human behavior.

“Reached any decisions yet, Sadie?” Vin
asks, materializing alongside me.

“Sort of.”

His attention snaps to the screen. “What’s
the dilemma?”

“Drama or Psychology. I can’t make up my
mind.”

“I might be able to help with that.” He
tows a chair over and sits down. His fingers fly over the keypad. “Here, look.”

The page loads and my eyes scan the
screen. THALASSIC CITY DRAMA CLUB – LIVE AUDITIONS.

“Life in Thalassic City is about more than
work.” He slouches in the chair. “If you want to fully embrace the experience,
then you should have a hobby or two. If you choose the Psychology module, you
could then join the Drama Club and indulge your interest that way.”

“You’re like my own personal miracle
worker,” I blurt out.

He grins. “Not likely, but I’m glad to
help.” He pushes back the chair and stands.

“Vin?” I look up at him. “Why is the
government doing all this?”

He sits back down, sliding his chair over
to mine. “What do you mean?”

His intense brown eyes study mine. I start
counting on my fingers. “They’ve relaxed the laws so we can mix with the other
classes, and they’re allowing us to choose how we spend our time in Thalassic
City. We’re permitted to have hobbies,
and
they’re opening up government
jobs to some of us.” I lower my voice deliberately. “What I don’t understand is
why? I know that they need to find other means of accommodation because the
cities are overcrowded and we’re running out of space and resources. But I
don’t understand why they’re being so amenable about it all. Maybe I shouldn’t
look a gift horse in the mouth, but something doesn’t add up about the way
they’re conducting this experiment.”

“Can you keep a secret?” He presses his
mouth close to my ear. “I’ve wondered the same thing. Whether there’s another
motive besides their stated desire to ensure the project is a success.”

“What do you think it is?”

“I’m not sure, but no doubt, all will be
revealed in due course.”

He flips his wrist, and I notice the
silver coin for the first time. My eyes widen in surprise. I’d assumed all the
Adaptation Officers would be bullions. Thinking about it now, it makes absolute
sense they are coins considering the middle class provides middle management
services to the upper class as well as the usual policing, security,
administration, and retail services. I thought the importance of “The
Experimento” would dictate closer upper-class supervision, but I guess I was
wrong.

Vin notices my observation, and I
acknowledge my rudeness. “Sorry,” I stammer, cheeks flaming. “I didn’t mean to
stare. I’d assumed you were a bullion.”

“I’m not sure if I should be flattered, or
insulted,” he jokes.

I fidget with the collar on my shirt,
feeling uncomfortable.

“I’m only teasing. Don’t stress.” He
lightly pats my arm. “There actually aren’t that many bullions on the project,”
he admits candidly.

“How come?”

An unnamed expression graces his face for
a fleeting second. “Another puzzle,” he says cryptically. Standing, he shoves
his hands into his pockets. “I know you’ve a lot to think about. I’ll leave you
to it. It was nice talking with you.”

His words filter through my brain as I
watch him move around the room. The longer I’m here, the more I realize I’m not
the only one who has apparent difficulty saying what I mean and meaning what I
say.

***

Opting for take-out dinner is a spur of the moment decision;
however, I feel I’m left with no choice as soon as I spot Dante and Jenna
draped around each other at one of the tables in the kitchen. The way he’s
pawing at her makes me want to puke. I don’t know how any of the others can
bear to eat in the vicinity of such a disgusting spectacle.

I’m gobsmacked that Jenna has let him back
into her life, and I’m at a loss to understand it. The last couple of days she
was adamant she wanted nothing more to do with him. Shaking my head in
exasperation, I throw a final glance their way. Seriously, there are closets
and beds for that type of conduct.

I do an immediate about-face the minute I
reach the library, and I catch a glimpse of Neve’s blonde head hunched over a
book. I back out of the room before she notices me.

So, now I’m sitting cross-legged on my bed
in the empty dorm, with my take-out dinner on my lap, looking like the world’s
biggest loser. My head is cluttered with too much angst, frustration, and
helplessness. Logan occupies prime space in my head. I know I’m pathetic, but
is it too much to seek an explanation? So I can at least understand what went
wrong? Draw closure?

Before I overthink it, I slide the
take-out box to the side and whip out my D-pad.

SO: Can you at least explain
what I did wrong? I’ll leave you alone then, if that’s what you want.

I’ve finished shoveling the last of my
dinner into my mouth when my D-pad pings with his reply. My heart is stuck in
my throat as I click on the message icon.