Shymers (7 page)

But this girl’s smile is even more radiant, lighting up her mesmerizing green eyes. When she looks my way, they burn a hole right through me. A rush of excitement and nerves slams into the pit of my stomach. The sensation is unlike anything I’ve ever known.

She is stunning.

Bree introduces her to us as “Olive.” Kai immediately begins drilling her with questions. I am just as curious, but afraid to speak up as I fear my voice will sound different with all these new emotions raging through me.

Olive fidgets nervously with the tray in her hands after each question is asked. She does hold her chin high, however, with something I think to be pride. She’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met. Her answers are raw and honest, and she seems confused by everything Bree and Kai tell her.

I am struck with a pang of familiarity when she tells us her parents are both gone and that she was placed in the orphanage. Sadness creeps into her eyes when she speaks of the place. All too well, I remember my first night there. Was she afraid like I had been?

Her parents were foolish to think they could keep her hidden forever and keep her DOD a secret. If they hadn’t been so naïve in thinking they could continue living in the Free Lands, maybe she could have grown up in a decent home and not had to have set foot in an orphanage.

Strange feelings for the girl continue racing through me. I remind myself I shouldn’t care about her. She’s just another Shymer. There isn’t even a point in trying to make her my friend. It won’t be long until my DOD, and for all I know, hers is right around the corner.

Olive is foolish to think she can keep living in denial. Society won’t let her live carefree anymore. She’s just like the rest of us now.

I shake off the strange sensation that she continues to give me. She’s just a girl.

Olive

5 – I Thought You Would Know

Once Harrison is gone from sight and my panicked thoughts subside somewhat, I ask, “Did I do something wrong?”

“Don’t mind him,” Bree tells me kindly, the bright smile appearing back on her face. She nibbles at the food on her tray, but I only look down at mine. My appetite is gone.

“Harrison is more of the dark, brooding type,” Kai adds. She gives a sharp, gravely laugh that soon morphs into a coughing fit. Bree turns to her with a worried expression on her face. Kai’s own face turns a deeper shade of red. The awful sound makes me wonder if one of her lungs is going to actually shoot from her body.

“Are you sick?” I ask.

Once she is finished coughing, she pounds on her chest and her eyes water over. “Not really. I just smoke a pack a day.”

“What is a pack?” I ask.

“Cigarettes,” Kai answers. When I look back at her blankly, she sighs and explains, “It’s a plant you roll into paper, light and inhale. It causes you to get a buzz. The government banned it because anyone who inhales the fumes can die from repeated use. Just having it in your possession is considered a crime punishable by a lifetime of suspension.” Kai grins, her eyes sparkling. I can’t imagine why she seems so excited about doing something so perilous, especially when it appears to be making her ill.

Bree’s eyes dart across the yard nervously. “Keep your voice down!” she snaps. “Someone wil
l
hea
r
you!”

The Shymers sitting a few yards away don’t seem the slightest bit interested in our conversation. They speak to each other with their heads held low.

Kai’s grin straightens out. “What does it matter, Bree? Everyone in this school already treats us like we’re all some kind of diseased freaks anyway. Besides, if they gave me the death penalty because
I
smok
e
it would just hurry things up by a couple of months.”

Kai’s words ring through my head
:
by a couple of month
s
. She doesn’t have long to live. I’m still afraid of offending this unusual girl by asking when her DOD will be, even though she hadn’t hesitated to ask about mine.

I decide it’s best to change the subject. “Can someone explain to me why thes
e
Future
s
—as you call them—all look the same?”

I shudder when remembering their faces blending together in the hallway. It was just so unnatural. If they were to stand straight in a line, I wonder if I would be able to distinguish one from another or if they would all look exactly the same.

“You’re too much,” Kai says with another horse-like laugh. “You reall
y
wer
e
raised in the wild, weren’t you?”

I nod, which makes Kai cackle even more.

“Knock it off,” Bree scolds her before her attention falls back on me. “They all want to look as attractive as possible so they are guaranteed to marry another Future and have children together.”

I open my mouth, but can’t seem to find any words. Why would making the Futures appear more attractive insure them to one day marry? “I don’t understand,” I finally say.

“What don’t you understand?” one of the plainer boys with dark brown hair falling into his eyes grumbles. “Statistics show people with certain structures of their face and with blond hair are considered to be the most attractive. The Futures started altering their children a few years ago to become one of these statistics. It’s pretty simple. The rest of us are considered undesirable to Society because we’re plain looking. We won’t live long enough for them to even bother getting to know us.”

My insides seize. How can Society judge people solely on their appearance? I don’t think any of these Shymers sitting in front of me look plain, and just because they will live a shorter life doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be filled with just as much love and happy memories. This must be another one of the brutal truths my mother had purposely kept from me.

I suddenly yearn for my mother…our simple life in the forest…the days of living quietly away from all this backward madness…the uncertainty of impending death and the freedom to live each day without regrets. At least I can take comfort in knowing it will be another year before they will tell me exactly when I will die. I plan to be gone from Society long before that happens.

“I think you guys are worth getting to know,” I say quietly.

Bree laughs, throwing her arm around my back. “That’s because you’re one o
f
u
s
. If you knew you had more of a life to live you wouldn’t be wasting your time with us.”

“Are you sure about that?” I ask. There seems to be something missing from all of this—a reason why they just assume I’m a Shymer. They know my parents hid me away from Society, yet they still automatically think I’m one of them. Do they think that was the only reason she took me away? Is it only because I haven’t been altered to look like the other Futures?

I still wonder if Harrison could be a Future with his perfect face, striking blue eyes, and sandy-blond hair. But why would he stay with these Shymers when it’s clear the other Futures have a serious dislike of their kind? This group is friendly enough to me. I only hope they wouldn’t change their opinion if I decide to tell them the truth.

“What’s Harrison’s story?” I ask.

“You mean like why is he incredibly gorgeous like the Futures?” Bree asks with a small grin. I blush until my ears are burning—she knows exactly what I am thinking. “He’s not one of them, if that’s what you’re wondering. He was born that way. He carries a hatred for the system, although no one can really blame him. His entire family died all in one day.”

If it’s at all possible for your heart to break for someone you have only just met, it would explain the pang of sadness that seized me now. “All of them? How many were there?”

“Four—his parents, his younger brother and a little sister. They all died in a house fire. They knew it was coming, of course. He grew up in one of the most depressing households, knowing it would be just him after they all died. No one else would step forward to take him in, so he’s in an orphanage like you. Lots of Shymers are sent to the orphanage when their parents—usually the ones living in the Future territory—decide it isn’t worth raising them for a short time. Sometimes the parents are offered good jobs in the Future district and can’t afford to be degraded in Society because of their children.”

All of this is too much to process. My heart sinks even deeper for Harrison and all the others who were abandoned when their parents didn’t want them. How could a parent show anything but love for their child? Taylor told me there was a time in the old world when mothers were allowed to kill their babies before they were born in a kind of medical procedure. This almost seems like a perverse solution. How would it feel knowing your parents didn’t want you?

“Another bonus to living in an orphanage is that you won’t ever get to experience your playlist,” Kai says. “Sorry, but it’s not looking too promising for you.”

“What’s a playlist?” I ask, hoping to focus on something else.

Kai guffaws loudly, bringing on another coughing fit. The larger girl beside her reaches out to smack her roughly on the back a few times.

“This is why that crap is illegal,” Bree says in disgust. “You’re essentially killing your lungs, you know. I’m surprised your DOD hasn’t changed because of it.” Kai only waves her off, smirking.

“Wait!” I say, grabbing her arm. “You mean DODs can be wrong?” My parents never told me a DOD could change. Does that mean there is still hope for my new friends?

Bree tips her head. “A DOD doesn’t make you completely invincible from death. One can change over time, although it almost never happens and they don’t always catch it. Most people who know they will live past eighteen skip their yearly evaluation and don’t learn of their changed DOD. We’ve heard of people who were given the wrong DOD and died well before their given time, or even far after. The Seers aren’
t
alway
s
right.”

“No one in the government would ever admit the Seers can be wrong,” Kai adds with a roll of her eyes. “They want everyone to fear their DOD, like some kind of threat.”

“What’s a Seer?” I ask.

“It’s just like it sounds. They’re people who can see your death,” Kai answers. “Or as I like to call them, ‘a bunch of weirdoes with freaky abilities.’ Once the government discovered Seers could tap into the unused part of their brains, they made them their slaves. The wonderful DOD system wouldn’t be possible without them.”

Bree shoots Kai a cross-eyed look. “Anyway,
a
playlis
t
is kind of what it sounds like, Olive. It’s a list of things a Shymer wants to do or see before they die. Whenever a Shymer is missing from school, it’s usually because they’re out working on their list. Not everyone gets to actually do theirs though. If their family doesn’t have very much money, it doesn’t happen.”

As a little girl I always dreamed of things I hoped to be able to do one day. Wanting to swim in the ocean that I have only seen from a distance was high on the list, followed closely by seeing the market where my mother spent all her time away from me. But at the very top was to be a part of a musical festival. I guess I already have my ow
n
playlis
t
—I just never knew there was an actual name for it.

I jump with the loud buzzer. Will I ever grow used to the invasive noise? My new friends moan, some of them rolling their eyes as they rise to their feet.

“Time for lessons,” says Bree, pulling on my arm. “C’mon. I’ll show you where your next classroom is.” The others raise their hands to us and mutter goodbyes as they shuffle under the canopies, back toward the building.

“I still have so many questions for you,” I say, not wanting to leave.

Bree shakes her head and continues to pull on me. “There isn’t time for that now. You’ll have to wait.”

* * *

By the time school has finished for the day, I have learned my place. I keep my head down, and don’t approach any of the Futures. I also think I may have figured out how to run my tablet.

Bree brings me to the shuttle station where we wait for our ride. She lives in a home not far from the orphanage with her little sister and parents. As we walk side-by-side, I wonder what her house looks like. Does her family own things I wouldn’t know the name for? Does she have a real bed in a home with real floors and ceilings? I can’t help but feel a little jealous that she is going home to her family and not to some orphanage.

We walk down a long flight of stairs until we are underground and come upon a long, silver box made of smooth metal. Hundreds of students stand around waiting, all looking like Shymers by their plain appearances.

Bree looks over to me with a crooked grin. “I’m guessing this is your first shuttle ride?”

I nod, watching as the steel doors open to the compartment when we become near. Others board ahead of us and already sit on metal benches, silently waiting for the departure. As we near them, I notice their faces are all so sullen—it’s as if they are just going through the motion of life, waiting for their days on earth to be finished.