wrist. His flexer was in the form of a retro stopwatch. I took mine from my back pocket and we pressed them together.
"I gotta bounce now, chica, but how about lunch? I think we have it at the same time."
"Yeah, we can do lunch."
"Sweet!" And Reba was gone in the blink of an eye. I pulled up my locations map on my flexer. I pinpointed my first official session of my first real day as a citizen of Seneca: Mathematics in epidemiology. If I had to pick a least favorite session, this would be the one. I always hated discussing diseases but, hey, I get it, everyone hated it just the same and that's why they were so set on finding ways to eradicate it in this new society.
I looked up from my entry point to determine which of four golden hallways I needed to take. In my direct line of vision, about forty-five yards down, there was a perfectly shaped head with a buzz cut. My eyes darted to the floor. There they were: blue combat boots. I looked up. His face. Two mysterious, different-colored eyes with a depth to them I so badly wanted to explore. I wanted for him to see me. He didn't. I looked down the hall I needed to take, but he was headed in the opposite direction. By the time I looked back to where he’d been, he was gone.
The urge to follow him was magnetic. I moved without even thinking. I made it to where I’d last seen him standing. There were no doors in sight. Maybe one had opened up for him in the wall, like I had seen happen the day before. He could be anywhere. I needed to get to session, set to begin in two minutes. I definitely didn't want to start things off on the wrong foot by being late.
As I headed back in the other direction, McKayla Gordon, Jennifer Wallingsford's sour friend, appeared.
"Hi, McKayla." I figured if I was here to stay, it was probably best to play nice. No need to have enemies right off the bat in a brand new place. Neutrality was my goal.
"Not feeling suicidal today are you, Nirvana?" She smirked and eyed me as a doorway opened up in the golden wall for her.
"Not today, but thanks for your concern."
I watched her saunter past me, through the instant door and into her session. I glimpsed inside the room and was about to walk away when something caught my eye. McKayla sat in front of him . Blue Combat Boots was in her session. He looked up and saw me staring at him from outside the room. And just like that, the door glazed over in the mirrored gold and I was staring back at myself. Or a version of myself that was acting like a silly little girl with a silly little crush. A girl I didn't know. I snapped out of it. With one minute to get to session, I booked it back down the hall and made it to my seat with seconds to spare.
9
R ATHER THAN JOINING the other girls of the dorm for our morning ride into Seneca, Ellen picked me up in a flighter with a driver and a special guard. These two were always with her. They were in the front. She was in the back. I wasn't sure where we were headed. But I was getting used to that.
She handed me a coffee. "Do you like mochas?" It was my first real whiff of coffee since the last time I’d been inside Café Firenze four mornings before. (Had it really only been four days ago that all this had begun?) I swiped the cup from Ellen's hand, took the lid off and slurped up the still unmelted whipped cream atop the silky, chocolate-infused espresso milk. One whiff of the rich aroma made my heart ache, made me miss my mom more than I ever knew I could. It was even more painful than missing my dad, I think, because I had chosen to do it.
"You made the right choice, Doro."
I took a sip– it hurt so good. "That's what I hear... I hope so."
"I made the same choice three years ago, when I accepted Congressman Wallingsford's invitation to join Seneca's Youth Initiation Division."
Ellen was touching her necklace, her eyes chock full of sorrow. I felt an energy emanating from her that resonated with me. An understanding between us. She removed her
"I gotta bounce now, chica, but how about lunch? I think we have it at the same time."
"Yeah, we can do lunch."
"Sweet!" And Reba was gone in the blink of an eye. I pulled up my locations map on my flexer. I pinpointed my first official session of my first real day as a citizen of Seneca: Mathematics in epidemiology. If I had to pick a least favorite session, this would be the one. I always hated discussing diseases but, hey, I get it, everyone hated it just the same and that's why they were so set on finding ways to eradicate it in this new society.
I looked up from my entry point to determine which of four golden hallways I needed to take. In my direct line of vision, about forty-five yards down, there was a perfectly shaped head with a buzz cut. My eyes darted to the floor. There they were: blue combat boots. I looked up. His face. Two mysterious, different-colored eyes with a depth to them I so badly wanted to explore. I wanted for him to see me. He didn't. I looked down the hall I needed to take, but he was headed in the opposite direction. By the time I looked back to where he’d been, he was gone.
The urge to follow him was magnetic. I moved without even thinking. I made it to where I’d last seen him standing. There were no doors in sight. Maybe one had opened up for him in the wall, like I had seen happen the day before. He could be anywhere. I needed to get to session, set to begin in two minutes. I definitely didn't want to start things off on the wrong foot by being late.
As I headed back in the other direction, McKayla Gordon, Jennifer Wallingsford's sour friend, appeared.
"Hi, McKayla." I figured if I was here to stay, it was probably best to play nice. No need to have enemies right off the bat in a brand new place. Neutrality was my goal.
"Not feeling suicidal today are you, Nirvana?" She smirked and eyed me as a doorway opened up in the golden wall for her.
"Not today, but thanks for your concern."
I watched her saunter past me, through the instant door and into her session. I glimpsed inside the room and was about to walk away when something caught my eye. McKayla sat in front of him . Blue Combat Boots was in her session. He looked up and saw me staring at him from outside the room. And just like that, the door glazed over in the mirrored gold and I was staring back at myself. Or a version of myself that was acting like a silly little girl with a silly little crush. A girl I didn't know. I snapped out of it. With one minute to get to session, I booked it back down the hall and made it to my seat with seconds to spare.
9
R ATHER THAN JOINING the other girls of the dorm for our morning ride into Seneca, Ellen picked me up in a flighter with a driver and a special guard. These two were always with her. They were in the front. She was in the back. I wasn't sure where we were headed. But I was getting used to that.
She handed me a coffee. "Do you like mochas?" It was my first real whiff of coffee since the last time I’d been inside Café Firenze four mornings before. (Had it really only been four days ago that all this had begun?) I swiped the cup from Ellen's hand, took the lid off and slurped up the still unmelted whipped cream atop the silky, chocolate-infused espresso milk. One whiff of the rich aroma made my heart ache, made me miss my mom more than I ever knew I could. It was even more painful than missing my dad, I think, because I had chosen to do it.
"You made the right choice, Doro."
I took a sip– it hurt so good. "That's what I hear... I hope so."
"I made the same choice three years ago, when I accepted Congressman Wallingsford's invitation to join Seneca's Youth Initiation Division."
Ellen was touching her necklace, her eyes chock full of sorrow. I felt an energy emanating from her that resonated with me. An understanding between us. She removed her
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