Oasis (The Last Humans Book 1) by Dima Zales, Anna Zaires Page A
Authors: Dima Zales, Anna Zaires
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think he just saw you move your lips.”
I take a deep breath and make an effort to relax. “It’s hard not to panic,” I think at her.
“You’re doing okay,” she says. “Now say, ‘I’m sorry, Instructor George. I guess no one told you about the history lesson we’re play-acting with Liam. He’s supposed to be a Freemason.’”
Robotically, I repeat what Phoe said.
The Instructor looks at me as if I have ‘two plus two equals five’ tattooed on my forehead. Then he shakes his head and says, “This is one of the most creative ways someone has tried to get themselves excused from my Lecture.” Straightening his shoulders, he points at the door. “I’m not falling for it. Get inside.”
“Crap,” Phoe says. “I guess there’s nothing more we can do. Get inside the room and shut up. I have to see how big of a mess you’ve made.”
I march in and notice that Instructor George isn’t following me.
Ignoring my growing sense of unease, I plop down in a chair, my mind overloaded with questions.
“He just reported your conversation to the Dean,” Phoe says when Instructor George walks in a few beats later. “Let me try to research this further. Don’t say a word.”
The Instructor begins his lesson. He likes to teach on a giant Screen in the front of the class, not unlike how teaching was done in the ancient world.
I don’t hate math as much as Mason does, nor am I as bad at it as Liam is. Mathematics is actually the only subject where I don’t feel as if I’m being fed bullshit on a daily basis. For example, when we learned that equilateral triangles are equiangular, I understood both the mathematical proof and the truth of it. Even when we learned that 0.999 with infinitely repeated nines is equal to 1, I understood the truth of it through proofs, even though it felt unintuitive at first. It was even fun to change my mind like that. In contrast, every word that comes out of Filomena’s mouth in History feels like a calculated falsehood.
Today, though, I feel as ambivalent about the Lecture as my friends usually do.
To keep myself from panicking, I attempt to focus on the lesson, but every fifteen minutes, I catch myself wondering where Phoe is and what I’d do if she doesn’t show up soon.
Eventually, I give up trying to pay attention. At least the Lecture will be over in a few minutes.
To keep a modicum of sanity, I replay the events of this morning in my head. My best guess is that this whole day has been a very strange dream. In that case, how do I wake up?
I pointedly pinch my wrist.
“You’re not dreaming.” Phoe’s sudden words startle me. “Writing usually looks blurry when you’re dreaming, but the Screen looks pretty crisp, doesn’t it? Believe me, given what I’ve found out, I wish you were dreaming.”
“But—”
“I told you not to do anything or go anywhere.” Phoe’s voice grows in intensity. “Which part of that did you not understand?”
“I had to go to Calculus,” I object. “Did you want me to cut class?
“Right, of course, because had you skipped your Lecture, you’d have been in trouble , while now, you’re all hunky-dory.”
“Can you do me a favor and not talk like you’re a voice inside my head?” I whisper loudly enough that Owen turns around and gives me a questioning stare. I shrug at him and subvocalize at Phoe, “Just tell me what’s going on.”
Owen raises his forefinger to his temple and makes a circular motion. Which movie did he learn that ‘you’re crazy’ gesture from? Other Youths usually don’t know ancient behaviors that well.
“Ignore that dweeb.” Phoe is still, annoyingly, talking inside my head.
“But he might be right,” I think at her, pulling my gaze away from Owen to look at the Screen in front of the classroom. I want him to think that I’m bringing my attention back to math. “I think I truly am nuts.”
“You’re not,” she says, out loud this time. “But this Mason situation is messed
I take a deep breath and make an effort to relax. “It’s hard not to panic,” I think at her.
“You’re doing okay,” she says. “Now say, ‘I’m sorry, Instructor George. I guess no one told you about the history lesson we’re play-acting with Liam. He’s supposed to be a Freemason.’”
Robotically, I repeat what Phoe said.
The Instructor looks at me as if I have ‘two plus two equals five’ tattooed on my forehead. Then he shakes his head and says, “This is one of the most creative ways someone has tried to get themselves excused from my Lecture.” Straightening his shoulders, he points at the door. “I’m not falling for it. Get inside.”
“Crap,” Phoe says. “I guess there’s nothing more we can do. Get inside the room and shut up. I have to see how big of a mess you’ve made.”
I march in and notice that Instructor George isn’t following me.
Ignoring my growing sense of unease, I plop down in a chair, my mind overloaded with questions.
“He just reported your conversation to the Dean,” Phoe says when Instructor George walks in a few beats later. “Let me try to research this further. Don’t say a word.”
The Instructor begins his lesson. He likes to teach on a giant Screen in the front of the class, not unlike how teaching was done in the ancient world.
I don’t hate math as much as Mason does, nor am I as bad at it as Liam is. Mathematics is actually the only subject where I don’t feel as if I’m being fed bullshit on a daily basis. For example, when we learned that equilateral triangles are equiangular, I understood both the mathematical proof and the truth of it. Even when we learned that 0.999 with infinitely repeated nines is equal to 1, I understood the truth of it through proofs, even though it felt unintuitive at first. It was even fun to change my mind like that. In contrast, every word that comes out of Filomena’s mouth in History feels like a calculated falsehood.
Today, though, I feel as ambivalent about the Lecture as my friends usually do.
To keep myself from panicking, I attempt to focus on the lesson, but every fifteen minutes, I catch myself wondering where Phoe is and what I’d do if she doesn’t show up soon.
Eventually, I give up trying to pay attention. At least the Lecture will be over in a few minutes.
To keep a modicum of sanity, I replay the events of this morning in my head. My best guess is that this whole day has been a very strange dream. In that case, how do I wake up?
I pointedly pinch my wrist.
“You’re not dreaming.” Phoe’s sudden words startle me. “Writing usually looks blurry when you’re dreaming, but the Screen looks pretty crisp, doesn’t it? Believe me, given what I’ve found out, I wish you were dreaming.”
“But—”
“I told you not to do anything or go anywhere.” Phoe’s voice grows in intensity. “Which part of that did you not understand?”
“I had to go to Calculus,” I object. “Did you want me to cut class?
“Right, of course, because had you skipped your Lecture, you’d have been in trouble , while now, you’re all hunky-dory.”
“Can you do me a favor and not talk like you’re a voice inside my head?” I whisper loudly enough that Owen turns around and gives me a questioning stare. I shrug at him and subvocalize at Phoe, “Just tell me what’s going on.”
Owen raises his forefinger to his temple and makes a circular motion. Which movie did he learn that ‘you’re crazy’ gesture from? Other Youths usually don’t know ancient behaviors that well.
“Ignore that dweeb.” Phoe is still, annoyingly, talking inside my head.
“But he might be right,” I think at her, pulling my gaze away from Owen to look at the Screen in front of the classroom. I want him to think that I’m bringing my attention back to math. “I think I truly am nuts.”
“You’re not,” she says, out loud this time. “But this Mason situation is messed
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