Perfected (Entangled Teen) (2 page)

Two

I
t didn’t surprise me that Ten was the first of us to be sold. The old couple that had been looking for a redhead must have been pleased enough with Ten’s deep auburn hair to choose her with the first tag of the day.

Ten rose and walked elegantly to stand beside her new masters, and Miss Gellner called the name of the next tag holder.

“Our second tag belongs to Senator Gibbs,” she announced. “Senator, it’s a pleasure to have you here today. Have you had a chance to make your selection?”

The elderly gentleman stood and smoothed his hand across the front of his suit. “Yes. They’re all fine specimens.” He smiled, nodding to the rest of the tag holders. “But I do believe I’ll go with number Sixteen.”

A few disappointed mumbles circulated through the crowd as Sixteen took her place beside her new owner. I couldn’t take my eyes off of the senator as he stroked Sixteen’s hair with his large hand, twining his fingers through the flaxen curls at the base of her neck.

Miss Gellner moved on to the next tag, and I tried to concentrate on the name she was announcing, but her words got lost in the low hum filling my head.

I wiped my clammy palms against the soft silk of my dress, trying to calm myself, but I couldn’t look away. Miss Gellner had assured us that the tags weren’t handed out to just anyone. All her clients were from the top one percent of society. She made sure of that. A customer had to put down twenty thousand dollars just to be entered in the lottery to get a tag. They had to charge such a high price to ensure we’d be owned by the best. People don’t appreciate common things, Miss Gellner always said, so it was important that we never be common.

And even though she made it quite clear that it was beneath her to speak about money, Miss Gellner said it was also important that we know exactly how much our owners were willing to pay for us. Two hundred thousand dollars is as much as some people spend on their homes, Miss Gellner said when she told us how much it took to own a Greenwich girl. Not the homes our new owners would live in, of course—she was speaking about the general public—but it was a substantial amount of money regardless. We were to understand that our new owners would think of us as an investment, and we needed to spend our lives making sure their investment was worth it.

Still, the way the senator stroked Sixteen’s hair didn’t feel right.

“…choose number Eight,” a voice said from the crowd, and I lifted my head at the sound of my name.

Miss Gellner smiled. “Thank you, Congressman,” she said, and I followed her gaze to the man who had just selected me with the third tag of the day.

The congressman smiled at me and nodded. It was the same small gesture he’d given me after my performance. But still it confused me. If he knew I’d lied to him about my preference for playing the piano, why would he use up a third-pick tag to choose me? I got shakily to my feet, trying to paste a demure smile over the look of stunned disbelief on my face before I wound my way through the crowd to stand next to him.

“Hello, love,” he said, smiling. “It looks like three is our lucky number. Tag number three for the girl with three talents.”

“Oh yes, what splendid luck,” his wife said in a flat voice.

I knew she was being sarcastic. It was the sort of speech Miss Gellner commanded us never to use under any circumstance, but there had been a few times when I’d overheard some of the girls speak this way to one another when Miss Gellner wasn’t listening.

“I have a headache,” she said, turning to her husband. “I’ll be waiting out in the lobby until this little pageant is over.”

The congressman watched his wife disappear behind the two wide doors that led into the waiting room before he turned to me. “Don’t let Elise scare you,” he said. “She’s been in a bad mood ever since she turned fifty.”

I didn’t know how to respond. In our Conversation classes, Miss Gellner said never to engage in a discussion about a woman’s age or weight, but I was afraid to stand idly without responding.

“Yes, sir,” I said quietly and raised my head to watch as Miss Gellner called the remaining tags.

Less than an hour later, each girl had been sold. Even the last clients, who had been left with Eleven, seemed quite pleased with their purchase. Miss Gellner thanked the crowd and led us out into the lobby.

“On behalf of Greenwich Kennels, I’d like to thank you once again for choosing us,” Miss Gellner said. “Your paperwork should arrive within the next week. Please feel free to visit our website for care instructions, as well as read the brochures we’ve sent home with you. And please don’t hesitate to call if there’s anything we can do for you.”

“Next thing you know, she’s going to tell us to have her registered with the American Kennel Club,” the congressman’s wife said, standing up from the chair we’d found her in. “Can we please get out of here? I still need to get ready for Grace’s reception, and at this rate, I’ll be late again.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get you home with plenty of time to spare,” the congressman said, touching her lightly on the wrist. It was the first sign of Tactile Affection that I’d seen between the two of them, and I turned away like I’d been taught in my Body Language class, not wanting to intrude.

Out front, the congressman handed a small pink ticket to one of the valets standing next to the wide, circular driveway.

The valet glanced down at the ticket and smiled. “Oh, the Austin-Healey. Is it a ’63?”

“’65,” the congressman said. “Back when they really knew how to make a car.”

The valet nodded enthusiastically. “I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but it’s a beautiful car, sir.”

“Of course I don’t mind,” the congressman said. “I’ve got a soft spot for beautiful things.”

“You’ve got a soft spot for
impractical
things,” his wife countered, watching the valet run off to fetch their car, but this time there wasn’t any real malice in her voice.

The congressman glanced around the parking lot at the other clients leaving with their newly acquired girls. “You’d think for people with such good taste in pets, they’d have better taste in cars.”

I followed his gaze. I didn’t know anything about automobiles. It was true, most of the cars people were leaving in were large black ones that looked quite a bit like the cars the kennel used to transport us from Greenwich.

Then, rounding the corner came the valet in the congressman’s car. It was not like any other car I’d ever seen before. In fact, it might have been the complete opposite of all those long, dark sedans with dark windows and jet-black interiors.

The car was small and rounded, painted in a soft shade of teal, a few shades darker than my dress, and the interior was cherry red leather that I could guess, even from seeing it from a distance, was as soft and supple as silk. The sight of this little car brought a smile to my lips. It might not have been as big and important as the other cars, but it was exciting in a way that theirs were not.

The valet pulled to a stop in front of us and climbed out, smiling, as he handed over the keys.

“Ladies,” the congressman said, opening the passenger side door.

“You get in first,” the congressman’s wife said, gently pushing me toward the car. “I’m not spending a thirty-minute drive wedged in the middle.”

I climbed in, and the congressman’s wife followed. Inside, I tried to make myself as small as possible, pressing my legs together and folding my arms across my lap, but it was impossible not to be pushed up next to either one of them after the doors slammed shut.

“So what do you think of my wheels?” the congressman asked, revving the engine before he sped out of the parking lot.

“The wheels?” I asked, suddenly worried that I hadn’t paid enough attention to them. I’d been so distracted by the rest of the car that I hadn’t noticed the wheels. “They’re very…round.”

The congressman threw his head back and laughed. “Yes. Yes, they are very round. But what do you think of the car?”

“I’ve never seen one like it,” I said. “It makes me wonder why people drive those other cars when they can choose one like this.”

“Damn right!” the congressman shouted into the wind that whipped through the open windows. “I know how to pick them, don’t I, love?”

I wasn’t sure if he was speaking to me or his wife, but when she didn’t respond, I assumed he was, indeed, talking to me. Behind us, the training center receded in the distance.

“Yes, Master. You chose a lovely vehicle.”

“Oh God,” the congressman’s wife moaned. “Please, don’t tell me she’s planning on calling you ‘Master.’ I don’t know if I can stomach it.”

The congressman chuckled. “You don’t like it?”

“Seriously, John, it’s completely backwards. Who in their right mind thought that would be a good idea?”

“I think it’s kind of charming,” he said.

“Charming?” she said, rolling down her window. “Maybe if you’re trying to recreate the Old South.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic. Since when did you start comparing genetically engineered pets to slaves?”

Their conversation was starting to make me nervous, and I stared straight ahead at the other cars on the busy road, trying to figure out where all these people were going and why they were in such a hurry to get there.

“I don’t. And I wouldn’t be comparing her to a slave if she hadn’t been the one to use the word ‘Master.’ Whether or not your constituents agree with buying these pets, I’m pretty sure you don’t want them drawing any connections to slavery. Unless you don’t want to run for reelection?”

“Oh please, I bet half the House and Senate own pets.” He opened and closed his fingers around the steering wheel. “If you think it’s such an atrocious word, we’ll tell her not to use it anymore. Got that, love?” he said, giving me a little nudge in the side.

I swallowed, unsure how to address him, “Yes…sir.”

He smiled and reached across me to squeeze his wife’s knee.

Three

T
he drive to the my new house was much farther than the drive between Greenwich Kennels and Miss Gellner’s training center, but I hardly noticed. I liked the way the congressman drove fast on the curving roads, zipping past tall trees and rolling hills spotted with large country houses.

I’d never seen countryside like this before. Both the kennel and the training center were near the city, so I’d only seen the rows of shops and a few tidy neighborhoods nestled in between. But out here, the houses weren’t close together. They were spaced between large, green lawns with forests and valleys and dark, stone walls winding through the trees. I’d never seen such grand houses, never even imagined they existed, even though Miss Gellner always spoke of the luxury we’d be surrounded by once we went to live with our new owners.

“It’s a shame you won’t be home this evening,” the congressman said to his wife. “Ruby will miss you. It’s the third night this week.”

“She’ll be fine,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “Besides, she’ll be completely distracted with the pet. Everyone will be. Nobody will even notice I’m gone.”

“Ruby will notice,” he said. “So will Penn, even if he won’t admit it.”

“I’m sorry, but I made a commitment months ago. Janet put me in charge of the silent auction. Besides, if I don’t come out for this, why should I expect anyone to come out for the benefit next Saturday?”

The congressman shrugged.

For the first time since we’d been in the car, the congressman’s wife turned to face me. “Our daughter, Ruby, will be excited to see you,” she said with what sounded like real affection. She didn’t look at me for long before she turned to gaze back out the window and her face returned to its preoccupied and distant stare. “The room is all set up,” she said, speaking to her husband now. “I sent someone out for a few last-minute items, so it’s not like she’ll need anything.”

We drove in silence for a few more minutes until the congressman slowed the car, pulling into a wide driveway lined with high, trimmed hedges. I leaned forward in the seat, just as the tall, brick house came into view.

“And this,” the congressman said, gesturing at the building, “is home.”

He hadn’t asked my opinion, but I couldn’t stop myself from speaking. “It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.”

How could I have ever imagined during all those years living inside the small, austere rooms at the kennel that a building like this even existed? Even Miss Gellner’s descriptions of castles couldn’t compete with the beauty before me.

The path leading to the front door was lined with perfectly rounded hedges and a pair of small trees, bursting with small silver leaves, hung low over the brick walkway. Near the front steps, two large stone pots overflowed with greenery. Around the wide front door, the carved white molding drew my eye up, up, past the second story windows and bright green vines that climbed the whitewashed brick onto the roof toward the sky, which seemed as if it must have been ordered especially for them, because I’d never seen a blue so radiant.

The congressman stopped the car and turned to observe the look of awe on my face. “I think she approves.”

“If only our friends were as easy to impress,” his wife said.

Just then, the front door opened wide and a girl ran out, waving her arms at the car as if she were trying to flag us down, even though it was obvious we’d come to a stop. She was yelling something, speaking in such a rush of words that I couldn’t understand a bit of what she was saying. Finally, as she drew closer to the car, her words became clearer.

“… for the past hour,” she gasped, “and Penn was about to make me go wait upstairs and then you pulled up.”

She stopped short at the side of the car, suddenly silent, and peered inside. Even though she was about my size, I guessed she must have been quite a few years younger than me. This had to be Ruby. She didn’t look a thing like any of the girls from Greenwich. Her eyes were big and dark, like her dad’s, and her skin was covered with a layer of soft brown freckles that looked as if they’d been smudged on. I wanted to reach out a hand and draw my fingers across the bridge of her nose to see if her skin felt as velvety as it looked. She had features that Miss Gellner would have called “unfortunate,” but there was something charming about them, and even though each of her features was homely on their own, they turned into something sweet, and innocent, and undeniably loveable when they were placed together on that face.

Her mom stepped out of the car and Ruby moved closer, bending down to stare in at me through the open door.

“Is that her?” she asked.

“Of course that’s her,” the congressman’s wife said. “Who else would it be? Now step back so she can get out. We don’t want to leave her out here all day, do we?”

Ruby stepped back and stared, openmouthed, as I climbed from the car. My legs tingled from being cramped up for such a long ride, but a moment later the congressman was at my side, helping me to my feet.

“She’s my size,” Ruby said, stepping forward so we stood nose-to-nose. To be sure, she raised her hand up above our heads to measure.

Her mother sighed. “She’s the same size as all the other ones. They’re bred to be little, remember? Now don’t crowd her. You’re going to give her a bad impression of our family.”

“Is this one my age?” Ruby asked.

The congressman gave his daughter a pat on the top of the head. “No, she’s all grown. Now why don’t we take her inside instead of standing out in the driveway like a bunch of transients.”

“Do we really get to keep this one?” Ruby asked, but both her parents ignored her.

This one?
“Is there another pet?”

“We don’t have her anymore.” Ruby frowned, paying no attention to the fact that I’d spoken out of turn. “My mom says it’s because—”

“Yes, we did have another pet,” the congressman interrupted. “Sadly, she came down with something that we couldn’t treat on our own. The kennel
insisted
that we return her so that they could give her the special care she needed. We were all sad to see her go. Especially Ruby.” He ruffled her hair, turning toward the house.

I moved to follow him, but my legs went weak at the knees. Miss Gellner spent years threatening us with what would happen if our owners were dissatisfied with us.
Greenwich must eliminate imperfection
, she used to say, smacking her training stick against her palm, and my legs would start to shake, not because I was afraid of being hit, but because it made me feel like I was a little girl again, walking past the dark red door at the end of the kennel’s long hallway.

Growing up, we’d feared that door more than anything; more than the dark, more than scary stories whispered at night. It remained locked, but somehow we all knew that it was the door that imperfect pets were sent through. And we all knew they never came back out.

When I finally turned to follow him, I noticed someone else standing in the doorway. I hadn’t seen him before because I’d been so distracted by the congressman’s story about the other pet, but there he was, leaning up against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, his deep brown eyes staring right at me. I froze, and for a second the world went fuzzy around the edges. The only clear thing was this boy standing in front of me.

I knew immediately that he was the congressman’s son. They looked like different versions of the same person. Both had the same square jaws, shaded with just a hint of stubble, and the same dark hair, although his wasn’t combed neatly like his father’s. It was shaggy and a bit tousled.

I’d never seen a boy this age before. All the workers at the kennel were older men with thick waists and sagging chins. But the congressman’s son couldn’t have been much older than me.

I hadn’t realized that I’d stopped short, staring at the boy, until Ruby spoke.

“Why is she just standing there?” she asked.

The congressman followed my gaze to where his son stood in the doorway, and when I turned back to him he was staring at his son, too. His eyes narrowed and his lips twitched, tightening. The look only lasted a moment before he put his wide hand on my lower back and gave me a little nudge. “Come on, love. Penn and Ruby will help show you around the house.”

Penn sighed and uncrossed his arms. “I don’t really have time to be a part of the welcoming committee,” he said before he turned and disappeared back inside the house.

“Ignore my brother,” Ruby said, taking my hand in hers. “He’s just grumpy ’cause Dad made him transfer schools and now his life is ruined. He’s only nice if you make him peanut butter cookies. I’ll teach you how.”

Her hand was shockingly warm and soft in mine and I held on a little tighter, letting her pull me into the house. Even the stately exterior couldn’t have prepared me for the gleaming dark hardwood floors and the wide stairway that curved up to the second floor, where a giant crystal chandelier cast warm light over everything.

Miss Gellner had decorated a few rooms at the training center with rich carpets and fine upholstered furniture so they would be presentable for her clients, but they didn’t compare to the inside of the congressman’s house. I tried to compose myself, but it was hard not to stand slack-jawed with my head tilted back to take it all in.

The congressman’s wife didn’t bother to say good-bye. She swept past us and climbed the stairway to the second floor, her heals clicking on the wood floor as she disappeared down the hallway.

“Well, Ruby,” the congressman said. “It looks like it’s up to the two of us to show your little pet to her room.”

Ruby didn’t seem to mind. She dragged me forward through an arched hallway that led to a gleaming white kitchen.

“This is the kitchen, obviously,” she said, waving her hand as if the kitchen was the most boring room in the house. “We’ll take you to your room first, okay? Daddy had the workers build it last year. You’re lucky because you can see the pool from your window and there’s French doors that go out to the patio.”

The congressman didn’t interrupt his daughter and she continued chattering. She pulled me past a room with windows that ran along all the walls and up onto the ceiling. I stopped for a minute, rooted. I’d never seen a room with a roof made of glass. To imagine that you could lie down on the couch and stare up at the clouds, and the birds, and the green branches of the trees swaying in the breeze…it took my breath away.

“This is just the conservatory,” Ruby said. “There isn’t a TV in here, but it’s a good room for reading.”

She led me on, through the conservatory and down a wide hallway lined with potted ferns. On either side, tall windows looked out into the backyard over the clear, blue pool on one side and the wide expanse of green lawn on the other.

“Okay, here we are,” Ruby said, stopping at a door at the end of the hall. “Close your eyes.”

Before I could close them, the congressman stepped behind me, slipping his warm hand over my eyes. “Ready?” he asked, leading me forward. One step. Two steps.

“Open your eyes!” Ruby yelled, and the congressman drew his hand away.

I turned in a circle, blinking as I took in the bright room.

It was white, everywhere, clean and crisp and untouched: the bed, the dressers, the couch and ottoman, even the curtains that hung down to the floor on either side of the four-poster bed. Through the tall windows lining the walls, yellow sunlight streamed in, bouncing off of the pool outside and casting ribbons of light that rippled against the high ceiling.

Our rooms at the kennel and the training center didn’t look anything like this. The only thing they had in common was the color. White. The walls in my little room at the kennel were plain and unadorned. The cover on my twin bed, which sat underneath a small rectangular window, had also been white, but it had never seemed like a color the way it did here. Instead, the white had always seemed as if it lacked something brighter, more distinctive.

There was a fireplace, a chandelier, a closet, and even though it was beautiful, it left me feeling small and out of place. I turned in a slow circle, trying not to let the discomfort show in my eyes as I took it all in.

“I think she likes it, Dad,” Ruby said. She stroked my arm lightly.

The congressman swung open the door to the closet. “It looks like Elise set everything up,” he said. He ran his hand across the row of gowns hanging along the wall. There were dozens of them, all soft shades of coral, and blush, and cream. “I have to run and make a few calls. Do you think you can manage to get her over to the dining room in time for dinner, Ruby?”

She nodded solemnly.

“Good.” The congressman chuckled, smiling down at both of us. He stroked my hair. The touch was gentle. Not at all like how the senator had knotted his fingers in Sixteen’s hair. “Make yourself comfortable.” His hand lingered on my cheek.

I hoped the expression on his face said he was happy that he’d gotten me. Even though Miss Gellner had spent four years training us, I suddenly felt as if I didn’t really have any idea how to live at this house with these people. How was I supposed to be good enough for them?

He turned to go. The door clicked shut behind him and in its place, the image of the kennel’s dark red door flashed in front of my eyes. I blinked it away, but the unease lingered in my belly.

What if after a day or two they realized I wasn’t special, that I was too common to be spoiled this way?