28
THE VEGETABLE FARM
GROUND LEVEL
WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 8TH
11:10 P.M.
Later that night, Allie stepped out of the hatch. She was back in the worm-infested mud. Only this time she didn’t think of disease. She thought of love.
The night air was electrified—and so was Allie. She was tingling from her freshly kissed lips down to her unkempt toes. She wanted to squeal with glee, but aPod beat her to it. It pinged to life with seventeen new messages. Seventeen?
SHIRA: ASSEMBLY IN TWENTY MINUTES. REPORT TO THE PAVILION.
Charlie: Where r u?
Skye: R u okay?
Charlie: I left the hatch open. Leave the way we came.
Skye: What does the tunnel look like?
Charlie: Y aren’t u txting back?
Skye: Is Taz there?
Charlie: Darwin should know the exits.
Skye: Hurry up! Shira is going to cut someone!
Skye: Charlie made a hologram of u so Shira won’t know u r gone
Skye: Kiss Darwin bc you could be cut
Skye: Seriously, where r u?
Charlie: Allie J?! Where r u?
Skye: No one cut yet. Shira had emergen-c. Found the person who stole her sense of humor. art
Charlie: Just put your hologram to bed. It’s sleeping beside Triple.
Skye: Your hologram is snoring.
Charlie: Coast is clear. Come back now if u can.
Fear coursed through her body as she read the urgent texts, her heart rate elevating with each one. She was about to panic. And then one more came through.
Darwin: U OK?
Allie J: Never better. art
She smiled to herself, reviewing the night’s events frame by frame like a DVD:
The chairlift whisking her through the aquarium tunnels.
Knowing she should scream but giggling instead. What she’s doing is crazy, risky, dangerous, and exciting.
As if sensing the presence of another person, the chair slows. And then stops. Darwin gently places his guitar on the glass floor, then offers his hand and helps her down.
The chair lingers like a nosy parent.
Darwin pops a cinnamon-scented toothpick between his lips.
Allie’s breath seizes in her chest.
Darwin asks her to sit. He admits it takes him months to write songs. Says he understands why she keeps buckling in class. Wishes there wasn’t so much pressure to perform, says pressure is passion’s poison.
Darwin plays the first song he ever wrote in one day, says it was inspired by her. It’s called “Pressure Is Passion’s Poison.”
The lyrics have something to do with a beautiful girl… green eyes… filled with passion…
The rest of the lyrics fall away. He had her at “beautiful.”
He strums his last strum. Fletcher’s face finds its way into Allie’s head. Allie closes her eyes to make it go away. A whiff of cinnamon. A shadow over her face. Warm lips. They’re not Fletcher’s. They’re better than Fletcher’s! They’re… who’s Fletcher?
Allie is floating…
She floats when Darwin puts her back in the chair…
Floats when he kisses her again…
Floats when he triple-taps the chair and tells it to take good care of his special girl…
Then she floats up the winding staircase…
And considers asking him to call her plain old Allie instead of—
“Allie J?”
A stern voice sounded behind her, and Allie crashed back down to the very muddy earth. Her throat tightened like she was wearing a toddler’s turtleneck, and she turned around slowly… and came face-to-face with the muse from Oprah; the same one who’d found her crying under the a?aí after class.
“Lost again?” The muse tapped her foot impatiently.
“Uh-h,” Allie stammered, taking a step backward. Think, think, think. “I, uh, I’m expecting a package from my mom. It’s medicine. For my condition. I was looking for the mailroom, but it can wait until morning, so I’ll just go back to my house and use what I have left and—”
“Nonsense.” The muse’s scowl relaxed into a smile. “When it comes to health, leave nothing to chance.”
“Okay then.” Allie began walking away. “Thanks. I’ll go get it then. G’night.”
“You can’t possibly walk all the way to Shira’s office from here.”
“Shira’s office?” Allie’s cinnamon-flavored lips dried.
“Yes,” the muse said as if it should have been obvious. “All packages go through her.” She powered up her hoverdisc. “Hop on, I’ll take you.”
Before Allie could refuse, she was floating again. Only this time it did not feel good.