BEFORE (9 page)

A small smile forms on my lips. Beck is just like Charles. Always searching for the middle ground. I, however, am no warrior. No one would ever accuse me of being like Caitlyn—I’m too content to be in the background and out of the spotlight. 

I scan through a few more pages and land on a picture of a smoky, gritty, ancient city. It’s amazing those old-time people didn’t kill themselves off with all that pollution and disease, and with limited access to medical care, education, and food. Their world looked so different from ours: crowded, dirty, downright crumbling. They tried to cram everything into everywhere and had no sense for order or beauty.

Not at all like the State, whose sole purpose is the protection and well-being of all citizens. We want for nothing.

With all the horrible things those people did, maybe wiping out most of them with the Long Winter wasn’t such a bad idea.

A low chuckle interrupts my thoughts. Beck pushes his desk across the aisle and next to mine, while Mr. Proctor continues lecturing. Only Beck could do something like this and not immediately get in trouble.

He leans close to my ear, and his warm breath tickles my neck. “Guess what?” 

“I’m trying to pay attention.” Mr. Proctor has moved on to the importance of our roles in the State. How once we’re mated and placed in jobs, we will be challenged and blessed with security and oversight of the State. How unlike Singleton and Non-States people; each and every one of us is expected to contribute to the good of the Western Society.

“No, you’re not. You hate this class,” Beck challenges.

I squint at him, and purse my lips, trying my hardest to look upset.
Try
being the key word here because my stomach flip-flops from Beck’s close proximity and I suddenly feel breathless. “Fine. What?”

“Kyra kissed Maz last night. On the lips.”

“Kissed?” So that’s the big secret. I sneak a glance at Kyra. I’m not surprised, but she knows better. What if Maz isn’t her mate? Then what? “You want to talk about
kissing
?” 

“Would you rather practice?” Beck leans back in his chair. His eyes glint with mischief. 

He’s teasing me, I know, but I can’t stop the warmth spreading across my cheeks.

I hit his bicep with my fist. “Stop it.” 

“What do
you
want to talk about?” Beck rubs the spot where I hit him.

I take a deep breath. “You know what I want to talk about.” 

He stares at me blankly as if he really has no idea. 

“How about we start with this morning? With the Sensitives?” 

A shadow crosses his face and the playfulness disappears. “What about it?”

“Why did you think they were looking for you? Is it because you’re a descendant?” Leave it to Beck to act brave when I couldn’t. 

“Yes.” He turns his head toward the clock so I can’t see his face.

“Beck, please look at me. I know you’re not telling me everything “ 

 He twists around in his seat to face me directly. His lips are pressed tight. When our eyes meet, I pause. 

All the mischievousness is gone. Erased from his lovely face. 

 “Can we talk about this at home? Away from all these ears?” He motions to the rest of the class with his free hand.

I want to agree, but a stronger urge takes over. “No. I want you to tell me now. You’re not getting out of it.” 

“Lark,” he pleads. “Just wait till we get home. I’ll tell you everything. I promise.” 

 “Beck, Lark.” Mr. Proctor raises his shaggy gray eyebrows. “I know you’ve had an exciting morning, but wait until after class to discuss it.” 

Beck straightens up and pretends to write. “We were comparing notes.”

Mr. Proctor nods his head permissively. “I’m sure you were.”

When he turns his back to us, I knock the pen from Beck’s hand. “No,” I whisper angrily. “You’re going to tell me now.” I never get upset with him. He’s supposed to cheer me up when I’m down. Not piss me off.

He grabs my hand. “Birdie, calm down.” He traces small circles across the back of my hand and a curious calming sensation creeps along my arm and into my overactive brain.

But I’m still annoyed. “I don’t know why you can’t just tell me.”

A small frown forms on Beck’s full lips. Right then, the bell rings and he jumps from his seat, leaving me and my mood swings behind.

Frustrated with him and angry with myself for not getting the answers I want, I shove my notebook and pen into my satchel and run after him. 

“Beck, wait!” I catch up to him and place my hand on his muscular arm. 

 He shakes me off, clearly upset, and starts to walk away but then changes his mind and wraps his arms around me tight. A surprised sigh escapes my lips when his lips touch my forehead. If we were alone, I’d nuzzle into his chest, but we’re standing in the middle of the crowded hallway. Students swarm around us. We can’t do this. Not now. 

I step back and wait for Beck to say something. Instead, he removes his thick, blue wristlet and reaches for mine. I let him take it and he shoves them deep into his bag, where our words will be too muffled to fully understand. 

Beck places a trembling hand under my chin and stares into my eyes. “You know that I would do anything for you, don’t you?” 

Confused by his actions, I shake my head. “What’s going on? What aren’t you telling me?” 

It’s not like Beck to keep secrets from me. 

He steps away from me and hands back my wristlet. “You’re going to have to run if you want to make it to your next class.” He smiles weakly, his face just a shadow of its lively self, as he heads off down the hallway, leaving me behind. 

Something must be wrong. Really wrong. Uneasiness swells in me again. 

Beck, the most relaxed and happy person I know, is frightened. 

6

Beck surprises me outside my classroom door, like he has after
every
class today. Normally, he only meets me after my Agriculture class.

“How’d you get here so fast?” I ask. The bell barely rang and his previous class is on the other side of campus.

“Magic.”

“That’s not funny.” After the attack this morning, it’s the last thing he should be joking about. Especially with other students around. 

“I wasn’t trying to be funny.”

I roll my eyes. No point in arguing with him. At least he seems more like himself. “You can’t ditch class. Not if we’re going to get a high placement.”

He holds out his arm, offering to carry my backpack. When I slip it over my shoulders, he shakes his head at me. “You’re stubborn.”

“And you’re acting like a nutter.” I scowl.

Beck starts off down the hallway, through the crush of students, toward the lunchroom. I follow along at my own pace and force myself to think about this morning’s events: the Sensitives, Annalise, Beck—all of it.

We shouldn’t have been by ourselves—especially after the Delay Request. I know this. But still, why didn’t the school alarms sound? And why did my wristlet chirp when Beck’s didn’t make a sound?

Lost in thought, I don’t see Kyra run up until she’s pulling me by the arm to our lunch table. She’s taken her hair out of the school-regulated ponytail, and her curls bounce every which way. Why does she always have to flaunt the rules?

“Did you hear about Lina and Ryker? Someone caught them kissing on the back stairwell.”

Okay. Everyone around me has officially lost their minds. Beck and I were attacked by Sensitives this morning, and all anyone wants to talk about is kissing. 

She leans in and whispers. “I heard they were in a state of undress.”

I curl my lip in an attempt to look more disapproving than curious. “Really?”

Kyra links her arm through mine and smirks. “They are in so much trouble.”

“And you and Maz have never…” I can’t finish the sentence. It’s too embarrassing. 

A hint of red creeps across her face. “Do you want to have lunch alone, away from the boys today?”

Beck steps between us and separates Kyra’s arm from my mine. 

“Hands off, Kyra.” He pushes his chest out and throws his shoulders back, strong and confident. It’s like the frightened version of him has vanished. Or it was all my imagination. “I have plans for Lark. Just the two of us. We need time alone.”

Irritation dims her face. “She’s not
yours
, Beck.”

This is too much. “What’s wrong with you guys? Did you all get hit by some crazy-inducing disease or something?”

I drop my bag on the ground next to my spot at our table. As much as I want to speak to both of them—alone and separately—I’m not going to get in the middle of their bickering. 

For the past few months, they have been at each other’s throats. Everything Beck does irritates Kyra. And Kyra annoys Beck. It’s mostly little things, but all their sniping is beginning to wear on me.

 “I’m eating here, in the warmth of this building. Feel free to join me when you can stop acting like idiots.” I walk to the lunch line. 

My breakfast of fruit has left me starving. From the entrees, I select a black bean burger, some grapes and corn on the cob. As I wait for my food to cook, I look back at my table where Beck and Kyra sit on opposite sides, engaged in a heated conversation. Neither of them bothered to get food.

Students crowd every table. Without exception, everyone sits in their own house section. We barely socialize outside of our group because what’s the point? The State selects our mates from the twenty-six students we live with. Plus, our houses are chosen based on our potential to form lifelong friendships. Which is great—
except
when your housemates want to strangle each other.

 “Can we call a truce?” I slide into the seat next to Beck and he drapes his arm over my shoulder. The weight comforts me, but I’m also aware of the glares other students shoot in our direction. I lift his arm and move slightly away.

“What happened to setting an example?” Kyra asks. “Or do
you
want to end up like Lina and Ryker?”

I roll my eyes. I moved away, what more does she want? “You should talk. I heard about you and Maz.”

“What happened to Lina and Ryker?” Beck interrupts leaning forward and searching down the table for his friends.

“Oh.” I cringe. “They were caught–”

“Doing all the naughty things you two will never, ever do,” Kyra offers with a devious laugh. 

Beck clenches his jaw and his fist hits the table a little too hard. My plate rattles. “Where is
Maz?”

Kyra suddenly turns very business-like and snaps, “He wanted to have a snowball fight, but I guess if we don’t turn up, he’ll be here soon. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

Next to me, Beck stiffens and the warmth radiating off of him disappears. 

“So, tell me about what happened this morning. How did you manage not to get killed?” Kyra steals a grape from my plate. The way she’s acting, it’s as if being cornered by Sensitives is a trivial thing. 

I draw my brow together, remembering the way they looked at Beck and me. “There were ten of them,” I recite, giving the same information I told the security detail that questioned us. “At first, a man seemed to be taunting us. But then Beck–”

When I say his name, he stands up. “I’m getting lunch. Do you want anything else?”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“Kyra?” he asks, making an effort to be nice.

She pops another one of my grapes into her mouth. “Nope. I’m sharing with Lark.”

As soon as he’s gone, she leans across the table, so that her head is close to mine, and takes a deep breath. “Okay, so please don’t panic out.”

I hate when she starts sentences this way. “I won’t.”

She puts her head next to mine. “Maz and I..,” She pauses and I know what’s coming next before she says it. 

My eyes grow wide. “Kyra! What if Bethina finds out? Or your parents—at your binding? You can’t have sex with him. You could end up in a different house—we’d barely ever see each other. And what if you develop feelings for him and he’s not chosen for you?”

I can’t take any more of this day. I just want it over. Between the Sensitives, Beck’s odd behavior, and Kyra trying her best to end up working a menial job for the rest of her life, I’m done.

Kyra sits back down in her seat. “I already have feelings for him, if you haven’t noticed.” For the first time ever, she actually seems embarrassed. Or maybe shy. I can’t tell exactly which because one second she’s smiling at me, and the next she’s avoiding my eyes.

“Besides, I’m not stupid. We didn’t do
everything
. Only almost everything.” She pushes on my chin to close my mouth. “Besides, how would anyone find out? They don’t have magical machines you have to walk through to see if you’re chaste.” She laughs, but I cringe at the use of the word ‘magical’. “Plus, I have it on good authority Maz is my mate.”

I gape at her. Again. 

“How?” I demand—she doesn’t know anyone who works in Placement. 

She puts her finger to her lips. “Can’t tell.” 

If she believes Maz is her mate, no amount of arguing will change her mind. So I try another approach. “What if you’re caught?”

“What will they do? Yell at me? It’s not like they’ll have a public trial and send me off to live with the Sensitives. They don’t condemn people like
us
to hard labor.” She shrugs. “Besides, don’t you ever want to be with Beck so badly it hurts?” The tone of her voice has shifted from happy to accusatory.

I bite my lip. Beck’s back is toward me as he inches through the lunch line. This morning—it feels like years ago—when he stood over me, gazing into my eyes, I had hoped he’d kiss me. Not the chaste little kisses he’s been giving too freely lately, but something more. 

But he didn’t. Because it’s wrong, and we both know it.

“No. I don’t want to compromise our future.” I give her a stern look. “And you shouldn’t either, Kyra. You’re going to end up with an awful assignment if you get caught. And you’ll definitely lose Maz. Your whole life will be ruined because you were impatient.” 

She shakes her head, a smile on her lips.