Authors: M.P. Attardo
Tags: #romance, #young adult, #dystopia, #future, #rebellion, #future adventure, #new adult, #insurgent, #dystopia fiction
“So what was he like?” Cato looks at
Nazirah. Her eyes remain fixated on the ceiling. It is the question
of the hour, of the year, of the century. It is the question she
can’t answer, doesn’t know how to answer.
“He was … quiet.”
“Quiet?” repeats Cato, intrigued.
“No,” she backtracks. “Not quiet.”
“So … loud?”
“No.”
“Talkative?”
“No!” she says. “Observant.”
There; that’s better. Adamek Morgen was
definitely observant.
“Observant?”
“Yes, and weirdly passive.”
“Weirdly passive?” asks Cato, perplexed.
“Are you sure you actually met Adamek Morgen?”
“The whole thing was just so strange,”
Nazirah continues, talking more to herself than to Cato. “He didn’t
say much, but I felt like everything he said was deliberate … like
he was testing me.”
“Testing you?” asks Cato, eyes narrowing.
“What exactly did he say?”
“Nothing important.”
She doesn’t know why she keeps the truth
from Cato – that Adamek intentionally provoked her by mentioning
Riva. She feels like a coward, ashamed for pulling her hand away.
Cato knows her well enough to realize that she’s hiding something,
but doesn’t press the issue.
“By the way,” he says, “I covered for you
yesterday with the bear.”
“I know,” Nazirah says. “I ran into Ani and
she told me.”
“If you’re going to keep missing classes,”
Cato jokes, “you could warn me so I can come up with some better
cover stories. The one yesterday was not good.”
“Was I sick?”
“No, but your goldfish was.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep.”
“You couldn’t think of anything better than
that?”
“You know I don’t like being put on the
spot!”
“Well,” Nazirah says, “luckily for you, Niko
had a talk with me about that yesterday. You were right. I have to
start going to class more, or else he is seriously going to maim me
in my sleep.”
Cato whistles. “He was really scoring major
points with you last night, wasn’t he?”
“You have no idea.”
“If you’re planning on showing up to class
more,” Cato says, “you should know that we have a Territory History
paper due Monday morning. History and culture of Zima … ten
pages.”
Of course they do.
“Great,” she groans. “You know, I never
thought we would get homework during recruit training. I get the
combat class, but essays, really? It’s like we’re still in
school.”
Nazirah gives Cato a crooked smile. He
hesitates for a moment and then gently strokes her hair. Nazirah
tenses, but lets him do it. Before this whole mess happened, they
had slowly been growing closer. Growing into something that was
almost, but not quite, more than friends.
Nazirah has never been especially interested
in especially anyone. She knows Cato has feelings for her, but he
is like her brother – closer than her brother. And, after her
parents died, Nazirah has no desire to be with anyone at all. She
has iced her heart, made it numb to the world and everyone in it,
so that nothing could damage her again. If things were different,
then maybe they could have been something. But the way she is now,
Nazirah knows she would only wind up hurting Cato. It is yet
another reason why she hates Adamek Morgen. Yet another thing he
has stolen from her.
“I should probably go work on it, then,” she
says.
Cato pulls his hand away, watching as
Nazirah sits up, plants her feet on the floor, and rises from the
bed. “Irri,” Cato begins, but Nazirah doesn’t want to hear what he
has to say. She is being selfish, she knows, but she can’t handle
anything else today.
“Thanks for the tip about the bear.” She
lightly kisses his cheek. It’s not what he wants, but it’s what she
can give.
“Sure,” Cato says. “Don’t be stranger.” He
flashes Nazirah a smile so bright and warm it makes her frozen
heart melt for him … just a little.
Monday morning dawns too quickly, leaving
Nazirah sleepy and restless. After exiting Cato’s room Saturday
night, she passed out on her bed for the next sixteen hours, waking
up midafternoon Sunday. She spent the rest of the day, and half the
night, in the library at headquarters working on that damn history
essay. It isn’t her best work by far, but it’s done and semilegible
– and took her mind off Adamek Morgen.
Nazirah groggily checks the time and
realizes she has slept through most of breakfast. If she doesn’t
hurry up, she will be late for class. She drags her tired body out
of bed, showers, and brushes her teeth. She dresses in a pair of
black jeans and a shirt she finds in a pile on her bedroom floor,
only slightly wrinkled.
So much for getting a fresh start.
Still half asleep, she towel dries her hair.
Grabbing her bag, she stuffs her essay in.
Nazirah rushes downstairs to the mess hall,
trying to score some breakfast in the five minutes before class.
Frustrated as she is with Nikolaus, Nazirah did promise to try. And
she always keeps her promises.
As she enters the mess hall, a group of
rebels spot her and begin whispering amongst themselves. Nazirah
chuckles as she walks over to the fruit basket, thinking they must
really not be used to seeing her in the morning. Nazirah picks up a
mealy looking apple, inspecting it for a moment before realizing
that the room has become eerily quiet. Completely silent, in
fact.
Apple in hand, Nazirah turns around, looking
at the tables suspiciously. No one is meeting her eye and no one is
speaking. All around, people clear their throats and cough
awkwardly.
What is going on? Could the rebels know
where she went this weekend? Did Nikolaus make some sort of grand
announcement while she was in the library yesterday? Nazirah bites
thoughtfully into her apple, readjusting the strap on her bag as
she exits the room.
At first, Nazirah thinks she’s just being
neurotic. But as she walks to class, she quickly notices people
stopping their conversations to stare at her. She’s seriously
unnerved now, as a nagging suspicion worms its way out from the
back of her mind.
Throwing her half-eaten breakfast into the
nearest waste bin, Nazirah storms to the end of the corridor. She
quickly changes her destination, turning right instead of left into
Bairs’s classroom. She walks faster, weaving through the crowd. The
halls become less packed, but the stares increase. And the whispers
follow her every panicked footstep.
“Do you think she knows?”
“Poor girl. She’s already been through so
much.”
“Serves her right, coming here without an
ounce of appreciation.”
Nazirah tunes them out. She barges into
Niko’s office, slamming the door shut behind her. Nikolaus is there
as usual, with an unusual silver briefcase lying on his desk. The
office is otherwise empty, save for one other person. Nikolaus
jumps at the sound, startled, but the other man doesn’t move an
inch. He is free of handcuffs this time.
“Nazirah, what are you doing here?”
Nikolaus looks borderline ashamed. Adamek,
clean-shaven and cocky, watches silently, giving her the same
curious look as in the prison. The purple bruises on his face have
faded slightly and his split lip is almost healed.
“What am
I
doing here?” Nazirah
yells furiously, storming up to Niko. “What am
I
doing here? Well, let’s see.” She
laughs bitterly. “I’m here right now, stuck in this scummy compound
that I hate, because both of my parents were slaughtered like pigs,
in my own home. And you, my ever-protective big brother, told me
that I couldn’t stay there, that it wasn’t safe for me there. So
that’s what I’m doing here. And I’m here, in your office, to tell
you that you’ve lost your fucking mind! What am
I
doing here? What is
he
doing here?” Nazirah
stabs her finger at Adamek, standing a foot from its accusing
tip.
“Nazirah,” Nikolaus says sternly, anger
flushing his tired face, “I don’t have time for this right now. I
told you already, this is part of our agreement. It’s easier if he
stays here.”
“He’s staying
here
?” she screeches,
beside herself.
Nikolaus never told her this was part of the
deal! Nazirah assumed that Adamek would buy a private island and
hide away until the war was over and he could safely return to
Mediah. She can’t be around him for more than a few seconds without
wanting to throw up, and now they have to live under the same
roof?
Nikolaus looks between her and Adamek
cautiously, clearly worried that one of them, maybe both, will
snap. “Do not question me,” he says. “I am your brother, and I am
your Commander. I am sick of your selfishness.” He walks past her
to the door, holding it open and scowling at the nosy rebels
listening outside.
But Nazirah isn’t done yet.
“How could you let him stay here?” she hisses, glaring at Adamek.
She is addressing him now, spitting slander. “This disgusting,
racist snake who is contaminating me with his presence?” Her eyes
blaze. “This …
murderer
!”
Adamek stares hard at Nazirah before sharing
a brief look with Niko. Adamek nods, walking towards the open door.
He stops in front of Nazirah, who is suddenly aware of how tall he
is. She hadn’t noticed in the prison because he was sitting the
entire time, but he is only a few inches shorter than Nikolaus.
Nazirah refuses to feel small and weak next to him, and holds her
head high. Adamek bends down. He whispers something in Nazirah’s
ear and then straightens and strolls out of the room.
Nikolaus waits by the door, not really
paying attention. Nazirah distantly hears him tell her that they
will finish discussing this later, that he needs to get back to
work, that she needs to go to class. But Nazirah is not
concentrating on him. She is concentrating on what Adamek has just
whispered, his words repeating over and over in her mind.
“And don’t you forget it.”
As if she could.
#
“What a day.”
Nazirah drops her heavy bag on the dead,
withered grass next to Cato. It is Thursday, four days since she
made her penitent return to classes, and she already feels
overwhelmed with work. Her teachers weren’t understanding or
lenient, hadn’t eased her back into things. They piled makeup
assignments and extra credit essays on her with a smile, especially
Bairs. Nazirah doesn’t want to do the assignments. She thinks that
showing up is more than sufficient. But Riva encouraged education,
and Nazirah doesn’t want to disappoint her any more than she
already has.
“Rough day of class?”
Nazirah shoots Cato an annoyed look, sitting
on the grass beside Lumi and Taj. They are lounging in a circle, on
the grounds behind the main building, watching some younger rebel
children play tag. It has been a beautiful day and the grounds are
full of people relaxing before dinner.
“I got my paper on Zima back,” Nazirah tells
them, stretching out her legs. “The bear was not pleased. ‘You
should take your work in this class more seriously, Nazirah,’”
Nazirah says, in a poor Bairs imitation. “‘Territory History is an
essential foundation of our rebellion. It’s how the races learn
about one another, how we realize we are all similar and
connected.’” Nazirah scoffs, because the last thing she needs is
yet another lecture.
“That witch,” says Lumi, her voice suddenly
full of derision. Nazirah is surprised to find she and Lumi agree
on something. “Can you believe she took points off my essay? How
would she know anything about Zima? She’s a southerner!”
Nazirah smirks. It’s typical of Lumi to
revolve the conversation around herself, but she still feels better
about her own decimated essay.
“Don’t feel too bad about it, Irri,” Taj
says kindly. “Bairs doesn’t like anyone.”
“Except you,” Cato says, and Taj smirks.
Like Nazirah, Taj is intermix. An orphaned
refugee from a small village several hours north of Rubiyat, Taj
has warm brown skin, an appreciative smile, and an eternally
grateful disposition. He can’t read or write, so he completes his
essay assignments orally. Taj is wicked smart and remembers nearly
everything he hears. Nazirah wishes she could be more like him,
wishes she could let the despair roll off. She doesn’t know how he
manages to do it, continue smiling day after day.
Nazirah sighs. “She gave me so much makeup
work today that I’ll be busy for a month.”
“If you need any help, you can always ask
Ani,” Lumi says sympathetically. “She’s the brains of our
family.”
Nazirah is thrown off by Lumi’s
pleasantness. Everyone has been walking on eggshells around Nazirah
since Monday morning, when Adamek first set foot onto the grounds.
All Nazirah wants is for everything to return to normal and for
everyone to ignore her again. That would be so nice.
“Thanks, Lumi,” Nazirah says, genuinely
grateful for the tip. “How is she doing, by the way? I don’t see
her around much.”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Lumi sighs.
She throws her hands up in exasperation. “I try to ask, but she
won’t talk to me. Or my father. Or even Yuki.”
Nazirah is skeptical about whether Lumi has
really tried to understand her reclusive sister, but she stays
quiet. She feels guiltier now about not stopping to chat with
Aneira in the girls’ lavatory last Friday.
“It’s a big change,” Cato says gently. He is
resting on his palms, eyes closed. “Just keep trying.”
Lumi looks at him wistfully. “I’m sick of
trying, Cato.”
Nazirah doubts Lumi is still talking about
Aneira.
“I overheard Grum speaking with Badoomi
today,” Taj says. “We’re starting actual combat training next week.
Fun, yeah?”