Dark Parties (13 page)

“Neva.” Ethan sits down next to me. “We are worried about you.”

Sanna kneels in front of me. “You’ve got to stop this. It’s too dangerous. We don’t know what happened to Nicoline…”

“And we don’t want anything to happen to you.” Braydon finishes her sentence and sits next to me. He puts his hand on my thigh.
I stare at it. His skin is smooth. His fingers extend over the hem of my dress so he’s touching my leg. It feels as if everything
is channeled into his touch, as if everyone is staring at the place where his fingertips merge with my bare skin.

Ethan rests his arm on my shoulders. I want to shrug it off, but I can’t move. “Neva, we need you to promise that you are
going to stop searching for people you think are missing.”

“They
are
missing,” I insist.

“You work for the government, your father.” Ethan pulls me toward him. “Sanna says she thought you might want to plan another
protest. Neva, you can’t be part of anything like that.”

“You mean
you
can’t,” I say, and glance at his wrist. They could be watching us now.

“None of us can,” Sanna adds. “Nev, please. This is for your own good.” She makes a fake stern face. She’s trying to lighten
the mood, but it’s not working.

They are conspiring against me. They are asking me to give up. Ethan and Braydon are huddling closer and closer to me. Their
thighs are pressed against mine. I don’t mean to, but I look at Braydon.

“Neva and I are going to get married and start a family,” Ethan announces. I whip around to face him. He hugs me away from
Braydon. “Isn’t that right, Neva?”

“Is that right, Neva?” Braydon asks. He rests his hand on his own thigh, but the tip of his finger moves ever so slightly
so he’s touching me. He knows what he’s doing.

Ethan nuzzles in close, and I feel the burden of his happiness. I feel the pull of Braydon. And Sanna is kneeling in front
of me, silently begging me to let her boyfriend go. I am being torn apart.

“Yes.” I choke back the real answer and respond louder this time. “Yes. I’m going to marry him.” It’s the only answer. They
won’t leave me alone until they think I’ve given in. In books and movies they lead you to believe that lying is difficult—that
a lie gets caught in the throat. But this lie is easy.

Ethan kisses my cheek. Sanna gives me a huge hug. “Nev, that’s big news. Congrats.” She hugs Ethan too. She pulls Braydon
to his feet and gives him a comically noisy kiss.

I’d rather step outside the Protectosphere and take my chances than step into this ordinary life with a man I don’t love in
a job that I hate with a future that will end too soon.

Ethan walks me home. He tries to make casual conversation, but I can’t pretend that any of this is normal. Mom comes out the
front door as Ethan and I approach my house.

“Hi, Mrs. Adams,” Ethan calls a little too enthusiastically.

“Oh!” she says, hand to heart. “You frightened me.” It’s the first time I’ve seen her hair down in months. I almost forgot
how her hair curls in spirals around her face. She looks younger. She holds her overcoat closed in her fist. “I thought Sanna
said you were going to be out tonight.”

“Change of plans,” Ethan pipes up when I remain silent.

“Are you okay, Neva?” Mom asks, and places her hand on my forehead. “You don’t look like you feel well.”

“I’m okay,” I say when she kisses me on the cheek. Since when are we the same height? Her lips and my forehead used to meet
perfectly.

Mom opens her purse and checks for her wallet and keys. “Right. Your dad won’t be home tonight. He’s traveling up North on
urgent business.”

“What?” He didn’t mention anything to me.

“It was some last minute thing.” She fluffs her hair. “I’ll be home late.”

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“Out,” she says, and leaves before I can ask a follow-up. We used to tell each other everything, but I’m starting to feel
as if I’m not the only one with secrets.

Ethan waves at my mother. The minute she turns the corner he leads me into the house. “Oh, Neva, you’ve made me so happy,”
he says, snapping me to him like a rubber band. His mouth is on my mouth. We are twisting and turning down the hall but still
connected. I wish it was Braydon, and for a moment I pretend that it is.

We fall onto my bed. He is on top of me. The sun is setting and the light from my open window gives his outline
an eerie glow. He grabs my wrists and slowly raises my arms above my head. My dress inches up. The rough cotton of his trousers
rubs my thighs. He kisses me and I try to kiss him back, but it’s as if I can’t get the rhythm right. His lips travel to my
cheek and then my neck. I try to lower my arms. I want to tug at the hem of my dress, but he is stronger in a way I have never
experienced before.

He is kissing me, but not softly and sweetly like at our Dark Party. His lips feel hard. He is crushing me. He releases my
arms. Now he’s twisting each button on the front of my dress between his fingers until it slips from the loop. I squirm under
him, but I am trapped. His bicep is near my face, and I can see the curve of the muscle. He buries his face in my neck, kissing
the line between my ear and collarbone. I grit my teeth.

We’ve done things before in this very room. We’ve kissed and taken things to the edge and back. But he’s more aggressive and
urgent. He’s never been like this before. Ethan is usually gentle and patient, always asking if each action is okay. This
Ethan seems possessed. We are nose to nose. I press my head into the bed and gain a few more inches of space between us. Ethan’s
face is in shadow. His eyes are dark sockets. “Ethan, stop.”

He stares at me, confused. “Neva, I thought you…”

I push away and scoot up the bed until my back is pressed against the headboard. I pull my quilt over me.

“We’re getting married,” he says, and sits on the side of the bed. “You said yes and I thought…”

“Ethan, we promised we wouldn’t.” I’m suddenly cold. I
tug my dress closed. “Please go,” I say, and pull my arms and legs in.

“But, Neva…” He reaches up to touch me and I flinch.

I stare at his silhouette and try to remember what loving him felt like.

“Neva, let’s tell our parents; let’s set a date.”

I shake my head.

“Okay, that’s fine. Whatever you want. I can wait.” He scoots closer for a kiss, but I move away.

“No, Ethan, I can’t marry you.” It hurts to say it, but I can’t keep lying to him.

“Okay, we don’t have to get married. You’re right. Why let the government think they’ve won? We’ll abstain for a while longer.
We can live together…” He keeps stringing sentences together, not taking a breath.

“Ethan.” I place my hand on his. He stops talking. “I care about you, but I can’t be with you anymore.” Saying it gives me
a moment of relief, but then sadness rushes over me. We’ve been together so long. I can’t imagine life without Ethan as my
safety net. I have to remind myself that he’s not that Ethan anymore and hasn’t been for months.

He pats my hand. “You’ve been through a lot recently. I understand. You don’t mean it. It’s okay. We don’t need to decide
anything now.”

Maybe I should leave it, but I can’t. If I stop now, I may never have the courage again. “Ethan,” I turn his face toward me.
“I want you to find someone and get married and have children. You deserve to have the life you want.”

Even in the half light I can see the tears in his eyes. I wipe
one away and kiss his cheek. Why can’t I pretend to love Ethan? It hurts me to see the pain in his eyes. I almost take it
all back.

“Neva, please…” His voice cracks and he can’t finish his sentence.

“I’m sorry, Ethan.” I kiss his cheek and taste the salty sweetness of his tears.

He stands and tucks in his shirt. He bends over and kisses the top of my head. “You’re tired. This is all too much. I shouldn’t
push you. Take your time. It’s okay.”

It’s as if he hasn’t heard a word I’ve said, but he’s gone before I can work up the courage to break up with him all over
again.

Later I dig out my journal. I sit on my bed and print Effie’s name after Nicoline’s at the bottom of my quickly growing List
of The Missing. It feels as if everyone has surrendered and I’m the only one still fighting. Our secret rebellion was the
only thing that gave me hope. I let their words of discouragement fuel my resolve. I won’t let Sanna give up on us either.
I read each name on my list. Ruth Laverne Adams. I say her name out loud. She is the first on my list and the reason I’m still
fighting. I promise Grandma that I won’t give up.

I’m tired of being pulled in so many directions. What Sanna needs. What Braydon wants. What Ethan asks. I decide to take a
hiatus from all of them. I stop answering their calls and, because Mom tells them I am grounded, they stop calling.

Now I’m thankful for my job. Even without GovNet, I’m in the perfect position to find out why more and more people are disappearing.
But I’ve got to be patient and smart. This is not the time for a sledgehammer. To open the Protectosphere, I need a pin. My
new strategy is to poke a
million tiny holes. The first thing I need to do is earn my dad’s trust. I need him to believe I’m the best, most efficient
government employee ever. In other words, I mimic Effie.

“Neva!” Dad bellows from his office. I don’t have Effie’s sixth sense for when Dad needs something, and it annoys him. Everything
seems to annoy him these days.

I spring to my feet and am standing at attention in front of his desk before he can yell for me a second time. “Yes?” I have
to soothe my urge to rebel at being treated like a servant. Now Dad has to do most of Effie’s job. All I can do are the menial,
unimportant tasks, but I see every job as an opportunity. Getting his third cup of coffee from the cafeteria is an opportunity
to explore another corridor of this massive catacomb. Delivering Dad’s stack of mail is a chance to figure out who does what
around here. I read every memo and every file I can get my hands on. I can’t be too eager, or Dad will get suspicious.

“This damn thing.” He whacks his InfoScreen on the top of his desk.

“Dad, you’ll break it.” I swoop in and take the handheld device from him. It’s his most prized possession. He salvaged it
from his dad’s belongings.

“It’s not working again.” His face is glowing red. He rummages through the files on his desk as if he’s looking for something.
His phone rings. I go to answer it. He snatches the phone from its cradle. “What?” He takes a breath and starts again. “Dr.
Adams.” He pauses. “I’m sorry I can’t hear you… I’m losing you… I can’t…” He throws the
phone across the room. “How am I supposed to work if everything keeps breaking?” he huffs.

“Dad, are you okay?” I retrieve the phone and put it back, careful not to get too close to him.

“Sorry, Neva.” He rakes his hand through his horseshoe of hair, and it’s as if I’m watching an actor switch into character.
He sniffs and straightens. “I need you take my InfoScreen to Allan in the annex and see if he can fix it,” he says calmly,
back in control.

I turn the device over in my hands. It fits neatly in my palm. I’ve never held it before. Its screen is normally illuminated
with words or images or both. He keeps a library full of documents in this tiny thing. It really is quite amazing. Most people
have never seen one of these. “Okay.” I turn to go. He forgets I have no idea who Allan is or where the annex is. I could
ask, but I don’t want to agitate him further. It also gives me a chance to ask someone else questions and explore the building.

“Thanks, Neva,” he calls as I exit. That’s a first. Another tiny success and another pinprick in the Protectosphere.

I leave the Information Service wing and look for a friendly face. Most people keep their heads down and don’t make eye contact.
I head toward the cafeteria. I’ve learned that I have more success getting answers outside of the Information Services wing.
Everyone knows I am Dr. Adams’s daughter there and seems a bit wary of me. I’ve also discovered that people are more open
to my inquiries when they are away from their desks, and the lower their
rank the more likely it is that they will chat with me instead of just answering one question. I spot a lanky, gray-headed
man in greenish gray coveralls, Tim, according to his name badge. Perfect.

“Ya want the tech graveyard,” he says when I tell him I’m looking for Allan in the annex. “Follow me. You’ll never find it
on your own.”

I have to skip a few steps to keep up with him. He maneuvers the complex like a mouse in pursuit of cheese. “What ya need
the annex for?” Tim asks, still snaking through the complex.

“My da—Dr. Adams needs Allan to fix his InfoScreen.” I show him the device cupped in my palm.

He stops and takes it from me. “I ain’t seen one of these thingy whatsits.” He flips it over and taps on the screen. “My grandpa
had one of them. He said everyone used to have’ em. I thought he was fibbing, but he swore it was a phone and ya could listen
to music, watch movies, and play games on it.”