2
Except for Kyra and me, everyone stands in the entryway. While we wait for her, I watch my housemates. Nervousness runs through the group. Today’s tests determine our entire future: our jobs and who my housemates will be bound to after their birthdays. While I worry about a desirable job placement, my friends worry most about who they’ll be paired with.
But I understand their nervousness—bindings can only be undone by death. There’s no way around it, so you better hope you like the State’s selection. Even if your mate dies, if you already have two children, the State won’t allow you to rebind. It’s part of our zero population growth policy.
Anxiety builds in my chest as I realize that in three months, everything is going to change. We won’t be waking up here, to the smell of Bethina’s wonderful breakfast; we won’t be able to run down the hall to ask each other for help on homework; we won’t be together.
It’s all coming to an end.
“Deep thoughts?” Beck’s breath tickles my cheek, his chin resting on my shoulder. I close my eyes, briefly, enjoying the feel of him so close to me and wanting more.
I’m such a hypocrite. I shouldn’t be thinking like this, especially when I tell Kyra not too. I shift away from him to maintain the appropriate amount of distance.
“I was thinking about the bindings.”
Beck clears his throat. “Really?”
“Yeah. It’s soon, you know.”
He nudges my shoulder in agreement and runs his hand over my arm. I shiver, despite being wrapped in layers of clothes and a heavy jacket.
“Are you excited?” His voice is soft in my ear.
“About what?”
“Our binding.”
My mind races ahead to three months in the future, when we’re bound, and he’s mine—forever. When I can finally tell him how I feel without worrying about breaking rules. My heart skips as I feel Beck press against me, my back into his front. And then my mind locks—the images vanish. There’s nothing there.
His lips graze my cheek when I turn my head to look at him. Embarrassed, I twist away from him in what I hope isn’t a too-obvious movement. “No. Just bindings in general.”
Around us, our housemates jostle each other while the stragglers finish slipping on their outdoor gear. We always walk as a group to school. That’s the rule. Even with security measures, you can’t be too safe with Sensitives roaming around.
“Kyra!” someone calls out. “You coming or what?”
But instead of Kyra, Bethina answers. “Can everyone go into the living room? There’s a delay request.”
I dart my eyes around the room and frown. A delay? That’s unusual. The only other time that’s happened is when the last Head of State died in a Sensitive attack. Beck raises his eyebrows at me.
“Did we miss the morning announcements?” My lip trembles slightly as I speak. I don’t remember seeing the school updates.
Beck shakes his head. He understands what I’m asking. “I’m sure everything is fine. Bethina would have told you otherwise. Privately.”
“Like when Kyra’s brother was killed?” I choke out and force my eyes shut. The memory of Kyra curled up in a ball, sobbing for days still breaks my heart. Her brother had been caught outside the secure zone by Sensitives. He didn’t have much of a chance.
Beck’s arm cradles me to him. “Don’t let your mind run away from you, okay?” He guides me toward the living room. “Let’s hear what Bethina has to say.”
But my mind can’t stop thinking of the worst scenario: Something has happened to Mother. Every morning, without fail, she delivers our daily address. I don’t think there was one today.
From the stairs, the pounding of feet announces Kyra’s arrival. When she skids to a stop, she waves a slim, silver tablet at us. “Sorry, guys. I couldn’t find my book.”
A groan rises from what’s left of our group. Kyra loses her book every morning.
“What’s going on?” she asks, noticing half our housemates are absent.
“The State has issued a delay,” Bethina responds. “Please go to the living room.”
I’m lucky. Unlike other students who only see their parents six times a year, I see my mother every day. Well, see her on TV. I haven’t actually visited with my mother more than a handful of times in my life. Running the State requires most of her attention. But if something happened to her, an accident or another assassination attempt by those vile Sensitives…
“Heya, stop it. She’s fine.” Beck disregards the rules and pulls me closer to him. Pressed against him, the trembles wracking my body are more obvious. “Take a deep breath, Birdie.”
He’s right. No need to expect bad news. It could be anything.
Except it wouldn’t be the first time Sensitives attacked a member of State—or my mother. And the attacks have become more frequent lately as the State continues to round up their leaders and put them on trial.
“Why doesn’t the State just lock them all away? It would be safer,” I say. “Sequester them somewhere—maybe in the Midlands—far from the rest of us.”
Beck stops and stares at me. “Not all of them have committed crimes, Lark. You know that. Besides, if the State locked them all away, who would do the menial jobs?”
“All I know is they hate us. They want us dead.” I lean against the couch, holding my arms tight across my stomach, and wait. My breakfast threatens to make a return visit if I can’t keep myself together. I bend forward, folding over on myself, and feel Beck’s hands rubbing my back.
“That’s just like them,” I hear Lina say. At first, I assume she’s talking about the Sensitives, but then she adds, “They can do whatever they want, while the rest of us get punished for so much as hugging.”
“Stop it, Lina. Lark’s upset,” Ryker, one of Beck’s good friends, says to the blond girl next to him.
She crosses her arms. “Right, I forgot. We can’t criticize Lark and Beck. Because they’re so special.” She adds emphasis to the last word. “They can do whatever they want.”
I jerk my head up and narrow my eyes, prepared to answer her, but Beck stops me.
“It’s not worth it.”
I nod. I don’t have the energy anyway.
Bethina paces in front of an empty wall. Deep lines form across her forehead and she taps her orange Singleton wristlet. A screen materializes on the wall. “I was told to have you all watch this.”
We wait as the screen turns from black to static. Finally, an image appears—a pretty woman with clear blue eyes and pale blond hair pulled into a fashionable twist fills the screen. Mother. My stomach flips and settles. She’s fine. Beck was right. I was worried about nothing.
“Good morning, students. We’re very sorry for the delay and for keeping you from your assessments.” Someone near the window snickers. “We received reports of unauthorized Sensitive activity in your area. Even though our security forces are confident all is well, please practice the utmost vigilance today. Do not hesitate to activate your wristlet if you sense danger.” Nervous chatter floats around the room as Mother smiles out from the screen. “You may resume your routine. May your day be peaceful and prosperous.”
I train my eyes on the now black screen, waiting for the rest of the report—the listing of captured Sensitives, policy updates, travel advisories, something. But no. Mother doesn’t reappear and the screen fades away.
Unsure what to do, my housemates and I give each other puzzled looks.
“That’s it?” Maz asks.
Bethina’s shoulders round forward, like a heavy weight presses between them, as she moves toward the living room doors. “It appears so.”
“If there’s nothing to worry about, why tell us?” Beck asks.
“The State always thinks of your safety first. They trust you to assess the risk appropriately.” She repeats the phrases she’s said to us so many times over the years. But instead of reassuring me, my insides knot together again.
Something’s not right.