BROKEN SYMMETRY: A Young Adult Science Fiction Thriller (35 page)

***

“It’s too suggestive,” said Amber’s mother.

Amber stood on a pedestal wearing the dress, still fuming inside from her conversation with Aaron. Just who did he think he was? At the moment, a dozen people were looking her up and down.

She felt André’s hands on her waist. “We want to display her athletic figure,” he said. “The fabric accentuates movement, lightness. Step down, Amber, try walking around a bit.”

She stepped off the stool and walked a few feet then turned around. The group murmured its approval.

“And what are those ruffles, André?”

André smiled. “It’s a fabric, Mrs. Lilian. It has to move.”

“Can you tighten that up along the side?”

“Quit nitpicking,” said her father. “He’s done a fine job.”

“You have no idea how camera flashes can amplify these imperfections,” said her mother.

“
Imperfections?
” scoffed Dravin, one of her parents’ friends, as his vulture-like eyes inspected Amber favorably from behind his glasses. “All I see is perfection.”

“Quiet,” said her mother. “André, do you have any brighter lights? I can’t see anything properly in your cave of a studio.”

André brought out two halogen lights on stands and they, like the eyes of her dozen admirers, were trained on Amber’s body.

“Congratulations,” said her mother. “You’ve wrapped her in vinyl.”

“There needs to be luster,” said André.

“Can it be charmeuse?” she said.

“Mrs. Lilian, the dress is done,” he said. “We’re just making the final adjustments.”

“Then do it again,” she said.

“But there isn’t enough time,” he muttered.

“Can we put padding in the cups?” said her mother.

André scowled.

“Ignore her,” said her father. “The dress is flawless.”

“It is
not
flawless,” said her mother.

While they bickered, Amber wandered into the corner and stared at herself in a mirror. Her hair was pinned up so every part of the dress could be seen, admired, and scrutinized for flaws. Just like her.

The silk was whisper-light on her skin, barely touching her, but not so loose they couldn’t see what she was shaped like underneath. It was André’s most appealing design so far
—
and probably the one she’d wear on her eighteenth birthday, although the thought made her stomach squirm.

She couldn’t stand the idea that once she met her half
—
once she
belonged
to him
—
she would never again be considered her own person. Irresistible as she was in André’s dress, she felt the urge to rip it off and don baggy sweatpants. The worst part, though, was she doubted there was even a single seventeen-year-old in the world who could empathize with her.

Well, maybe
one
seventeen-year-old.

Amber realized she was about to start thinking about Aaron all over again and sighed in frustration. She had thought about him way too much ever since he came to her school last week. But that
wasn’t
because she liked him. He was a jerk.

She just couldn’t figure him out, and though she didn’t trust him at all, she wished she had told him what she knew about the missing boy from her high school
—
at least to get it off her chest. Now he probably thought she was hiding something. Which she was.

And
why
did she care what Aaron thought? For all she cared, he could curse her name in his sleep.

Dravin appeared behind her, his half
at his side. “He’ll be lovesick when he sees you, sweetheart.”

“Fine. As long as he doesn’t puke on me,” said Amber.

He ignored her tone. “With you at his side, he’ll be chosen as the heir.”

“Dravin, please do your scheming with my father,” she said.

Amber caught his half’s
eye in the mirror and regretted it immediately. There was a reason Dravin usually left his half home when he visited. The woman’s unfocused eyes lolled between them, only loosely timed with their speech.

Amber averted her gaze, but not before her lips curled with disgust. Dravin must have read her expression.

“That’s not polite, sweetheart.”

“She’s gross.”

If the comment stung, Dravin didn’t let it show. “I was born in the early days, sweetheart. Before they understood premature contact. We first touched when we were only three days old; her body wasn’t ready . . . her channel tore open and she lost most of her clairvoyance.”

The detachment in his voice chilled Amber. “Aren’t you even upset about it?”

“You were almost like her, you know. Only your parents were more . . .
skittish
.” He said it like an insult.

“Yeah, well not everyone’s perfect,” said Amber. Despite her biting tone, her face flushed.

He was right.

Dravin and his half were victims of juvengamy. They had been forced together as infants.

So had Amber’s parents.

And as a pureblood, descended from an unbroken lineage of juvengamy halves, so had Amber.

At least that’s what they told her. She and her half were separated before she could remember. Before any permanent damage could happen to her channel . . . she hoped.

Amber heard shouting behind her and turned around. Her parents were yelling at each other now.

André sat in the corner while his half, the studio’s other designer, massaged his shoulders, throwing mutinous glances toward Amber’s mother. André and his half
were both men. Homosexual halves
did occur, though not as often as heterosexual halves.

Suddenly, Amber’s mother slapped her father and marched toward the exit, toppling one of the halogen light stands. The tripod crashed to the floor and the bulb popped. On her way out, she shouted over her shoulder, “I don’t care if you don’t sleep, André. I want another dress next week.”

When she got back to her purse, Amber had a missed call from Tina Marcello, Dominic Brees’s girlfriend, and a message asking if she wanted to hang out, maybe watch Pueblo High School’s rugby tryouts.

Definitely. She could use some time with someone normal.

***

“
Well?
” said Buff furiously as he and Aaron hobbled to the stands after rugby tryouts, both of them drenched in mud. Behind them, the goal posts sank into the mist.

“You saw. I scored three times,” said Aaron. “You tell me why your coach is an idiot.”

“Buddy, what was that bullshit? You’re a ball hog; you didn’t pass once. Have you ever even played rugby?”

“Just drop it,” said Aaron.

“No bullshit,” Buff grabbed his shoulders and faced him, “the closer it gets to your birthday, the more you creep me out. Look, Buddy, I know you’re freaked about that stuff in your head, but it’s not the end of the world, okay?”

Aaron shrugged off his best friend’s hands and continued walking.

“Okay, be a prick. Fine.” Buff walked in stiff silence next to him.

For a week, Aaron hadn’t stopped thinking about Amber. Clearly, she didn’t belong with Clive, yet she acted like they were unofficial halves or something . . . and he was beginning to hate it.

But his birthday was way too close to risk getting hung up on her
—
only nineteen days now. Besides, whether Clive Selavio, Aaron, or someone else entirely was Amber’s half would be revealed on March 30, and no one could do a damn thing about it.

So why was it so hard to let her go?

“Hey
—
” Buff nodded toward the stands, “look who came to watch.”

Aaron glanced up. It was Tina Marcello, but when he saw whom she was with, his skin tingled.

“And who might
that
be?” said Buff, suddenly very interested.

The two girls were sitting right where they had left their backpacks.

***

Amber wore a baby-blue sweater, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, damp with mist. Her hair glistened. Aaron stopped right in front of her.

“
You
again?” she said, making no attempt to sound excited. Aaron wondered whether she’d consulted Tina about him or whether they’d concluded separately that he was a jerk. Maybe they could form a club with Emma Mist.

Aaron wiped his brow with the back of his hand, and his sweat ran red down his fingers. A cleat must have nicked his forehead. He lifted the bottom of his shirt and wiped away the blood.

Amber blinked. “Do you really have to do that right in front of me?” she said.

“What are you doing here?” he said.

“Oh, so it’s okay for you to lurk by my car and ambush me after practice, and it’s not okay for me to watch the tryouts?”

“Fine. Next time I’ll leave your phone in the trash,” he said, “and just so you know
—
” he nodded over his shoulder at the rugby field, “I got distracted back there.”

“It’s not like I came to watch
you
.”

“Oh yeah?” he said. “Who’d you come to watch?”

Buff pushed him out of the way and held his hand out to Amber. He put on his most dignified expression, which wasn’t much. “Buff Normandy.”

Amber took his hand and smiled. “Amber.”

“So you like rugby, Amber?”

She shrugged, and her eyes darted to Aaron. “It’s okay,” she said.

“I didn’t really need to try out
—
” said Buff. “I’m actually already on the team.” He chuckled, and his cheeks reddened. “Actually, I was last year’s MVP.”

“Knock it off,” said Aaron. “She’s a friend.”

Buff stepped in front of Aaron, blocking him. “You got any plans for later?”

Aaron smirked and rolled his eyes, and Amber glanced at him again. She smiled too.

“Could you please leave us alone now?” said Tina, wrinkling her nose. “You guys stink.”

A lined notebook lay open on her lap, which Buff snatched and proceeded to dangle above her head.

“Buff
—
” Tina lunged for the notebook and missed. “Give it
back
!”

While they squabbled, Aaron scanned the bleachers for his backpack. He had left it right here. He inhaled, and his chest stung. More sweat drizzled into his mouth.

Then he saw it stashed under the bench, shoved out of the way right behind Amber. He leaned over her, and her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Excuse me
—
you’re in the way.” He reached past her.

But she refused to budge, and his shoulder brushed her cool skin. He felt her tense up. Aaron flexed and dragged his backpack onto the bench next to her. She stared at the spot of mud he left on her arm, then at him.

“What makes you think I’m your friend?” she said.

“I didn’t say you were,” said Aaron.

“You did two minutes ago.” She glanced at his forehead. “I think you need a Band-Aid.”

Blood dripped from Aaron’s chin. He wiped his forehead with his shirt again
—
it came back bright red.

“I’m fine.” He unzipped his backpack. Then he grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled it over his head. Caked mud and sweat stuck to his skin. He crumpled the shirt into a ball and wiped his face another time. That was when he noticed the bruises along his rib cage.

While his shirt was off, he saw Amber steal a glance at his torso, then quickly avert her gaze and fix her eyes firmly on the horizon
—
until a grunt from Buff made them both look in his direction.

“Buddy, she’s scouting for Breezie!” he shouted, staring wide-eyed at the players’ names written neatly in pink ink in Tina’s notebook. “And why isn’t my name here?”

“Buff, forget about it,” said Aaron. “She doesn’t know jack
—
”

“Huh Tina? Why isn’t it on here?” Buff repeated.

There was a dark glint in Tina’s eyes. “Because your GPA is below the league minimum. You won’t be allowed to play.”

“That’s not true.”

“Is too.”

Buff tore out the page, ripped it into little pieces and dropped them on Tina’s lap. “No more of this bullshit,” he said, grabbing his backpack.

“You freak!” said Tina, staring at the scraps.

“When we play rugby, Breezie’s going to need more than just a cheat sheet,” said Buff, kicking the riser on the bench.

“Well that was lame.” Tina brushed the scraps of paper into a puddle and grabbed her purse. “Amber, let’s get out of here.”

“Hang on,” said Buff, “let me get Amber’s number.” He rummaged in his pockets for his cell phone, came out empty-handed, then unzipped his backpack and started digging out crumpled wads of schoolwork.

Amber gave him a coy smile. “Buff, you hardly know me,” she said.

Buff’s face reddened. He stood and scratched his head. “Maybe I should give you my number instead,” he said.

“She doesn’t want your number,” Aaron scoffed.

Amber shot him a glance. “Maybe I do.”

Meanwhile, Tina made a point of sighing loudly.

“I got an idea!” said Buff. “Buddy, give me your phone. I’ll get her number that way.”

“Too bad,” said Aaron, “didn’t bring it.”

Amber glanced at the side of Aaron’s backpack, at the mesh pocket
—
where the bulge of his cell phone was clearly visible.

“Didn’t bring it, huh?” She slid Aaron’s phone out and flipped it open, keyed in her number, and called her own phone with it. Then Amber and Tina squeezed between him and Buff on their way out.

As Amber brushed past Aaron, she slipped the phone into the pocket of his shorts. “That’s for
Buff
,” she whispered, her breath right in his ear. Her green eyes lingered on him for another second before she turned away.

***

“Buddy,
who
was that?” said Buff, gaping at him.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Aaron. “She’s out of her mind.”

“Who cares?” said Buff. “Give me the phone number, it’s obvious she likes me.”

“She goes to Corona Blanca,” said Aaron.

Buff lunged for the phone in Aaron’s pocket, and Aaron had to beat him off with his backpack.

“Fine, I’ll just wait until she calls me,” said Buff, leaving Aaron to go talk to his coach, “which she
will!
”

“Say hello for me when she does.” Aaron slung his clean shirt over his shoulder and headed to his car alone. So much for forgetting about her. After that last sizzling look she gave him, that was going to be impossible.

Aaron sighed, imagining how much simpler his last month as a seventeen-year-old would have been if he’d never met her
—
and wondering if he’d ever have the courage to delete her number. Or call her.

His Mazda waited, black and sleek. Aaron was almost at the door when he noticed the damage, and his heart jolted.

He scanned the lot, hardly breathing. Nobody lingered. Nobody had left a note.