Only Ever Yours (12 page)

March

Four months until the Ceremony

“. . . and from the top. One, two, three, four . . .” chastity-bernadette yells, clicking her fingers in time with the pounding music as we do our final run-through. The others are brimming with nervous energy, but I want to lie down somewhere, take a nap and wait for all that food to digest. chastity-magdalena escorted me to the Fatgirl buffet at lunch and handed me a large plate of pasta in a chunky sauce, a hot fudge brownee for dessert and a can of EuroCola to wash it all down.
500 kcals, 600 kcals, 700 kcals, more
. I don’t know how much longer I can stand this weight-restoration plan.

“Come on.” freja nudges me forward and I stumble after daria and attempt to pirouette at the front of the stage.

“And five six, seven, eight . . .”

freja, in a black thong bikini and black court shoes, comes from behind me. Her makeup is perfect, tanned glowing skin and iced-pink lips, but she’s wearing her sash back to front and you can’t see her design number. I should tell her, I should, but it seems like too much effort. She joins the rest of us on the other side of the stage, chastity-bernadette still manically clicking her fingers until all twenty-nine eves have been presented. isabel has been excused, once again.

“Okay, girls, take a five-minute break.”

I crawl down the marble steps as black clouds swirl in my head, almost blinding me. Throwing myself onto a velvet chair, I feign sleep until someone pokes my shoulder roughly.

“Hey.” I straighten up, folding my arms across my distended tummy. They’re striking identical poses, right leg cocked out to the side, left hand on hip, tousled hair falling over the left shoulder. They’re even wearing similar string bikinis, megan in flaming red, the twins in pink with white polka dots.

“Your legs are so skinny!” liz says for about the hundredth time today.

“So skinny,” megan agrees loudly, one eye on freja. “You are the skinniest girl ever. You’re by far the skinniest girl in our class now.”

“Not for long,” I say as freja looks suicidal at the thought of someone stealing her identity as the thinnest eve in 16th year. “I’m on a weight-restoration plan. You saw how much I had to eat at lunch.”

“Pity isabel isn’t here today,” jessie says. “You would be like Little and Large. Right, megs?”

“Thanks for the suggestion.” I smile brightly at jessie before megan can respond. “But isabel is going to be back soon.” I pause. “And she’ll be
thin
again.”

And the last time she was at target weight, she was #1.

“Certain people are too invested in isabel to allow her to self-immolate.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, freida?” megan’s eyes narrow.

“Just something I heard.”

“What does self-momolate mean?” liz asks, shaking her hair out to give it extra volume.

“Shut up,” megan says, and liz falters, instinctively moving toward jessie for comfort. Their bodies meld into one and jessie wraps her arm around her twin’s waist and squeezes tight. It must be nice having someone that you can trust.

The main lights in the Assembly Hall dim and a huge spotlight illuminates the center of the darkened stage.

“Okay, eves, get into formation. It’s showtime!” chastity-bernadette yells over the high-pitched squealing, herding us to stage right. We huddle around the Spy-Cam screen embedded in one of the marble pillars backstage, watching as the gold-plated double doors to the Hall open, allowing men, real-life
men
, into our lives for the very first time. chastity-ruth leads the way, the Inheritants following behind her in single file. Two of the boys—Leonardo and Albert, I think—are trying to trip each other up, mouths
falling open in giddy laughter. I can tell chastity-ruth is furious, fingers gripping onto the sides of her cloak, but she doesn’t say anything. Darwin’s lips move and they stop immediately.

“What did he say?” miranda, one of the midranking eves, moans. Even when she’s sulking, little dimples are still visible on her heart-shaped face. “I wish these stupid screens had sound!”

“They can’t . . .” megan begins, and we all finish her sentence, “. . . afford to fix them!”

“Stupid Zone.” She frowns, then quickly touches her forehead and pulls it taut to stop any wrinkles forming.

The Inheritants take their seats in the front row, the Spy-Cam moving slowly from Socrates all the way up to Darwin. There is a collective sigh when his face fills the screen. The camera falls back to encompass all ten of them, and it’s obvious how excited most of them are, squirming in their seats, talking so loudly we can almost hear them backstage. But not Darwin. He leans back in his chair, stretching, his black sweatshirt rising so that I can see a flash of taut stomach, and a shiver of unfamiliar heat runs through me.

The other eves begin limbering up, stretching their hamstrings, practicing their smiles. The whispers of the girls and the booming echo of chastity-ruth’s introductory speech to the Inheritants break like waves in my ears.

We can see each girl making her entrance on the Spy-Cam, the camera then cutting to show the Inheritants’ reactions, all of them fidgeting with scorecards on their
eFones, ranking us once again.
abbey, adrianna, agyness, alessandra . . .
Swaggering up the catwalk, sashes perfectly in place across their pneumatic chests, they pause at the end and pirouette as rehearsed. chastity-ruth calls out their design numbers, struggling to be heard over the Inheritants’ whooping cat-calls.
christy, cindy, cintia, daria . . .

“#630.”

And then it’s my turn.

I can’t move. A pair of hands shoves me roughly onto the stage, and I blink in the spotlight. The sudden lull is deafening as I walk unsteadily to the front of the stage, the stiletto heels like shards of glass under my feet.

“I’m not into skinny girls.”

“You would cut yourself open on those hip bones.”

Embarrassment is filling my lungs like water.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry
.

“Shut up,” a low voice says.

“But I was only—”

“I said shut up,” the voice repeats.

I can’t see who it is, but I’ve watched his Introduction video enough times to recognize the voice.

“I think she’s cute.”

I stumble into a heap at the side of the stage once I’m safely out of sight.

“What happened?” cara asks, pulling me back so that the other eves can pass us. I can’t answer her, adrenaline hammering through my body. I sit up against one of the marble pillars, folding my head between my knees and closing my eyes, willing my heart to slow down. How am I
going to explain what happened to chastity-ruth? I can hear the loud screaming and clapping, chastity-ruth’s voice like a scythe through it, then the hustle of the Inheritants leaving, chattering about their favorites. megan’s name is mentioned a lot. She will be pleased. A hand jabs at my ribs.

“What did Darwin say about you?” megan says, her green eyes glittering dangerously.

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. You were like a corpse out there until he said something.”

“You couldn’t hear what he said on the camera?”

“You know they don’t have sound.”

“I don’t know, megan.”

“Are you trying to tell me you didn’t hear what he said?”

“It was nothing.”

“You’re right. I’m sure it is nothing.” She reaches inside her bikini top and pulls out an elastic hair tie, gathering her gleaming mane into a high ponytail. “Right, freida?”

“Right?” I answer tentatively.

She squeezes my knee in response, so tightly it feels as if she’s crushing bone. I almost gasp in pain but somehow manage to keep it in, hugging it deep inside me, nodding to show her that I understand what she’s trying to tell me.

I think she’s cute
.

That night as I lie in bed I replay the scene over and over in my mind, repeating his words like a mantra until I fall asleep without taking SleepSound for the first time in years.

“If liu asks how her stupid ass looked during her presentation one more time, I will
literally
punch her in the face. Why does she even care? Her rankings suck.” megan slams her tray down, GreenClean juice jumping out of the glass and slopping onto the table.

“Please be more careful, megan. Those tables are expensive,” chastity-magdalena says as she floats past.

“I bet in the Americas they’re not told to be careful of stupid tables,” megan mutters, taking a wet wipe from her makeup case to mop up the spill. “Anyway, liu is like, #27. Anyone lower than fifteenth place is dead to me.”

So much for the rankings being “meaningless.”

“Oooh, you look amazing, megs!” the twins scream, appearing in a haze of perfume and swishing ponytails. megan’s hair is tied loosely at the nape of her neck, a few curls falling around her face and a slash of red lipstick on her
lips. Her long-sleeved polo-necked top is completely sheer, intricate black lace covering her chest. Skin-tight pleather leggings complete the look. Evidently I’m not the only one taking extra care with my wardrobe choices these days, examining myself from every conceivable angle, trying to figure out what Darwin might see if he was looking at me.

“I know,” she answers complacently. “Oh, sorry, liu, you can’t sit there.”

liu hovers above the seat next to me, her tray already on the table. A blush breaks out across her porcelain skin, her sloe eyes uncertain.

“But there are three seats free . . .”

cara, wearing a tissue-thin white T-shirt tucked into a silver chain-mail skirt, claims one of them, groaning when she lifts the tureen lid and sees today’s 0-kcal option is cabbage soup again. liu stares at the remaining two seats and I start shredding my bread roll into tiny pieces.

“We’re saving those for daria and gisele.”

liu looks across the Nutrition Center to where daria and gisele are sitting behind a group of 14th years, huge platters of salad in front of them, but she doesn’t say anything. She gets up to leave, knocking megan’s makeup bag as she does so, and it hits the ground with a clatter. liu dives to rescue the makeup rolling across the floor with a panicked, “Oh my Father, megan, I am so sorry.” No one else moves. We all just watch as she kneels at megan’s feet, gathering up the numerous lipsticks and eyeliners and compacts of face powder as fast as she can. Finally she places the little bag back on the table, her face on fire.

“Thanks, liu-liu,” megan says without looking at her, smirking as the twins struggle to stifle their laughter.

“You are such a bitch!” jessie exclaims with relish when liu has gone.

“Whatever. I can’t listen to her discuss her ass during my lunch hour. It’ll put me off my food.”

“Could be a useful diet aid,” jessie says, making a big show of replacing the lid over her meal even though she hasn’t touched it, waiting for someone to comment on her will power.

“Are you saying I need to diet?”

“No, of course not,” jessie says, aghast. “You’re perfect.”

“I know,” megan says again. “Anyway, liu is so fake. She doesn’t have to worry about her weight. Everyone knows those people can’t get fat.”

“What do you mean, ‘those people’?” I blurt out.

“It’s a compliment.” She sniffs at my lack of understanding. “You are so sensitive.”

In my reflection in the table, I can see patches of brown breaking out through the pale makeup I requested to be layered on this morning and I feel a rusty shame twist inside me.

“I’m glad that she’s not sitting with us . . .” liz rushes to please megan—“if that is all she can talk about. Right, megs?”

“Yeah,” megan replies, eyes swinging like a pendulum from the wall to the desktop, back to the wall again. It’s as if we only exist in the surface of a mirror. “Can you believe that it’s been three days since the Inheritants’ visit?” she
says, twirling a curl around her finger. “Do you think they’ll be back soon?”

I look at cara, swallowing a smile. liu isn’t the only one struggling to find other topics of conversation.

“What the . . . ?”

“What is it?” liz asks, startled, but jessie just points toward the door behind me. liz follows her gaze, her soup spoon falling to the table with a loud clatter. I look behind me too, shock kicking me in the stomach.

megan, engrossed in fixing any smudges of lipstick after her lunch, is the last to see her. She sits up as if an electric current has shot through her spine.

“It’s isabel.”

“She looks amazing,” liz sighs. “Well, she does,” she says, as megan glowers at her.

She’s standing at the door, talking with chastity-magdalena. Her hair is longer—extensions, I guess. It’s blonder too, falling in thick icy waves to her elbows, a messy braid across the crown of her head. And she’s
slim
, her bare arms and legs slender and lightly tanned. She looks exactly like she looked last year, before all the damage. For a minute I forget that it’s isabel. All I know is that it’s another one. Another competitor.

“isabel!” megan yells, attracting the attention of every other eve in the dining room. isabel is rooted in the doorway, and a petite 4th year with tightly coiled brown curls leaps off her stool and scampers over and pats isabel’s legs with one hand, the other covering her jam-stained mouth. isabel crouches down, laughing as the little girl strokes her
hair with sticky fingers until chastity-magdalena shoos her back to her table.

“I love children, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I answered, as I had been trained to do.

“Someday, freida, we’ll have three sons each. And they will be the best of friends forever. Just like us.”

I get to my feet.

“It’s so good to see you, isabel,” I say, wrapping my arms around her. Her body is stiff against mine and I loosen my grip, embarrassed.

“You look great,” I say. “How are you?”

I have so much I want to tell her. I’ve missed you. I’ve been so afraid. I made a fool of myself in front of the Inheritants. I’m sorry that I felt jealous of you. Please, please forgive me. I want us to be friends. The best of friends forever. Do you remember? Three sons each, right? But it’s too much. The words fill my mouth like marbles, crammed too tight for them to escape.

She moves away, grabbing a tray from the BeBetter buffet and collecting her meds from chastity-anne. We walk together toward the tables, just out of step.

“isabel, welcome back!” megan calls again. Everyone is watching us. I sit down, using megan and the twins as a shield against the stares, throwing my eFone into my bag so that isabel won’t hear the sudden outbreak of message alerts.

“And what a coincidence, we’re practically twins!”

I hadn’t noticed, but isabel is wearing the same top as megan, except with a tight black skirt and patent multi-buckled spike heels.

“We should upload fotos onto Who Wore It Best?” megan says with ill-advised confidence. Up close, isabel looks even better than before. They’ve dyed her eyebrows a dark brown, similar to cara’s, and her skin is dewy. megan, whom I thought beautiful just five minutes ago, seems overdone in comparison.

“Sit with us,” megan says.

“No, thanks.” isabel moves to a nearby table, the only girl in the Nutrition Center sitting by herself. There’s a shocked silence before megan recovers and says, “Oh, no—do you think she’s fighting with you, freida?”

“What?”

“Well, she didn’t want to sit with you,” megan continues loudly.

isabel must be able to hear her, but she doesn’t contradict her. She just toys with her straw, covering the rest of her food with the tureen lid as if the very sight of it sickens her.

“Is that all she’s having for lunch?” liz whispers.

“Surely she should to be back on normal portions by now, right?” jessie says.

My own tray is almost cleared, my soup and bread roll demolished. How many kcals were in that?

isabel takes a halfhearted sip, grimacing as she swallows.

“I bet she’s sore from . . .”

“. . . stomach-pumping . . .”

“. . . I heard . . .”

“. . . no, I heard . . .”

She stands, dumping her lunch in the large waste-disposal tube on the way out, ignoring the pits of silence
when she is near, the outbreak of whispers once she has passed like the Wave in an arena. The door to the Nutrition Center closes behind her.

“Be quiet.” chastity-ruth cuts across the sudden roar of voices. “Control yourselves.”

“Can you
believe
that? What the—”

“Do you think I have fine lines under my eyes?” megan interrupts liz, pulling her temples taut in the mirror. “SkinCare have just released a new study in the Americas-Zone proving that they form underneath the skin from age twelve.”

“What?” liz screams, pressing her face down on the desktop until she is about an inch away from the mirror. “But I can’t see any.”

“You can’t see them yet,” megan says. “They’re hidden underneath your skin until you leave School and then they just appear. Out of nowhere. They had to specifically develop a new eye cream to fight it: Juveneyle.” She pulls out a small tube in the gold mosaic of the SkinCare range from her clutch.

I push my tray away.

“Where are you going?” megan demands.

“Hopefully to the Vomitorium after eating all those carbs.” jessie wags her finger at me. “Naughty, naughty.”

“Come on,” cara says, fiddling with her charm bracelet. “freida’s still recovering from being ill.”

“Yes, jessie. I’m on a weight-restoration plan because I’m underweight at the moment.” My gaze lingers just a little too long on her tanned thighs peeking out from under the table. “It’s something you couldn’t
possibly
understand.”

I grab my satchel and make an exit before the twins can find a spare brain cell between the two of them to retaliate. My eFone is still pinging persistently. Grabbing it from my bag, I quickly log onto MyFace, ignoring all the VideoChat requests and voicemails. karlie has uploaded a video of isabel’s entrance, spliced with the newest song from the slutz. “
Big girls . . . don’t get the guy-yi-yi . . . don’t get the guy
.” karlie’s voice-over: “Well, well, doesn’t look like she’s such a big girl anymore, does it?”

I click on a foto of me hugging isabel, spindly arms creeping out of my Breton-striped T-shirt dress, even more wretched in comparison to isabel’s toned limbs. “Looking hot, isabel,” rosie has commented. She didn’t say anything about me.

“isabel.”

I can barely see her, the black outfit a perfect camouflage in the dimly lit corridor, but I catch a flash of blond hair as she turns the corner toward the dorms.

“isabel,” I call as I chase after her. I reach out to grab her arm, yanking her back.

“Didn’t you hear me?”

Her eyes are clean, unseeing, and she moves away from me.

“isabel!”

“What do you want?” Her voice is glacial, the frost crawling up her throat and hardening in her eyes.

“I wanted to see you.” I’m flustered. “I’ve been so worried . . .” I trail off at the look on her face. “Are you okay?” I reach out to touch her hand, and she flinches.
My voice drops to a whisper. “Did they do something to you?” I’m afraid to ask. I’m afraid to know.

“Now?” she spits, rubbing her eyes, and I want to tell her to stop or she’ll get crow’s feet. “Now you ask me if I’m okay?”

“I don’t understand . . . I don’t . . .” I stutter. “I thought that we were friends again. I don’t understand why . . .”

“No.” Her voice cracks. “You don’t understand.”

“Then tell me. How am I supposed to help you if you won’t tell me what’s wrong?”

“Forget it.”

“Forget it?” I’m shouting now, my voice booming in the empty corridor. “So this is my fault, is it? I’m not the one who buried herself in her room for two months. I’m not the one who thinks that she’s so important, so much better than everyone else that she has to keep secrets all the time.”

She laughs, a shrill joyless sound that scratches my heart. She doesn’t care. She doesn’t care about me or our friendship.

I will
make
her care.

“It’s not my fault you’re such a fat greedy bitch that they had to put you into quarantine. Do you know what everyone was saying about you?” The words are spewing from my mouth, hot as vomit. “Everybody hates you; nobody likes you. You are so disgusting that we all wish you didn’t exist. We wish you were dead.”

She starts, recognizing the anonymous hate message left on her MyFace page and I see the real isabel behind the
mask, my isabel. She thinks
I
sent them, and she’s looking at me as if she’s never seen me before in her life, like I’m a total stranger. And I can’t take it back. I can never take it back.

“isabel, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

She shoves me with such force that I fall to the floor, involuntary tears springing to my eyes as she walks away. At the sound of clacking heels approaching I jump up and lean against the black wall, breathing deeply to compose myself.

“Where’s isabel?” cara asks me, arm in arm with megan, jessie and liz following closely.

“I couldn’t catch her.”

“Have you been
crying
?” jessie asks, her face brightening.

“No.” They look at me doubtfully. “I haven’t! I just twisted my ankle running in these stupid shoes.”

“Well, those shoes are pretty stupid.” cara grins at me.

“Come on, we’re going to be late for class,” I say, making a face at her.

“You know, I’m not trying to be a bitch . . .” megan begins. “I mean this in the nicest possible way, but I’m not that keen on isabel’s new makeover. Like the eyebrows? Everyone knows eyebrows are cara’s thing.”

“I don’t mind,” cara says with a shrug, ever the peacemaker.

“Well, yours are nicer anyway,” megan says, and cara goes pink with pleasure.

We’re nearly at the classroom when she turns to me. “Maybe you can talk some sense into isabel, tell her to start eating her meals. What’s the point in going skinny this late
in the year?” I nod, paranoia squeezing my smile. “I mean, obviously you’re skinny, freida,” she says, “but you’re trying so hard to get back to target weight. Proud of you!”

She gives me a hug to reinforce how proud she is and then breaks away, staring into my eyes. “But isabel—she’s just weird. I mean, you know her better than anyone. She’s weird, isn’t she?”