Verita (33 page)

“So are you planning on kissing Brody for that week while you’re together?” Ryan’s voice sounds angry, and I’m surprised by tone of jealousy I detect.

“No! I wasn’t planning on having you kiss Kelly either,” I snap back, hurt by his accusation.

“Then what do you plan on doing for the week after quarantine?” Ryan growls at me.

“If you’d calm down and let me explain—” I cross my arms and wait to see if he’s going to interject again. Then I continue, “I’m planning on telling Brody as soon as possible about my change of feelings. I thought it would be kind to give him a week to get used to the idea before we showed ourselves in public together.” I glare at him and cross my arms.

“I’m sorry. I never liked seeing you with Brody. The thought of you kissing him again—” His voice gets thick and trails off.

“What do you mean you never liked seeing me with Brody?”

“I liked you back then too. That night you invited me to the greenhouse, I wanted to kiss you, but you didn’t give me the chance. The only reason I never tried again was because I met Kelly. But I still had feelings for you, and every time I saw his hands on you, I’d get angry. I convinced myself that it was just because Brody was all wrong for you.” I notice Ryan’s entire body had tensed up just from the memories.

I grab his hands and give them a squeeze. “I felt the same way every time I saw you with Kelly. I told myself that I had no right to. I had picked Brody, but it didn’t stop the jealousy I fought.”

“What do you mean you picked Brody?” Now he’s staring at me, his face hurt and confused.

I groan. Why does my mouth like to betray me? “I knew you wanted to kiss me that night. I had just had my first date with Brody, and couldn’t kiss you too, despite the fact that I wanted to. I was still wrestling with my feelings the next day, but then I saw you with Kelly as I left the library.”

“So I kind of picked Brody for you,” he say glumly.

“In a way, yeah you did. I resented you for a bit after that day with Kelly,” I admit as I cuddle myself against his chest.

“You must have thought I was a shallow jerk, just going for the first pretty girl that would have me.”

“Are you saying I’m pretty?” I tease.

Surprised by my question, he blurts out, “Have you ever looked in a mirror? You’re beautiful.”

I blush. “Not like Kelly is. She enters the room and everyone notices,” I argue.

“Wow, I didn’t think I’d get to see your jealous side so soon.” He feigns shock. “Kelly’s a flashy pretty and a lot of it is make-up. You, on the other hand, are a natural beauty. You don’t need an ounce of makeup for your beauty to shine through. But when you do dress up, no one can take their eyes off of you. Didn’t you notice at the Fourth of July dance we went to? There was barely a guy in the room that could help staring at you.”

He leans down and kisses my forehead.

“Not that I’m saying your assessment of the dance is right, but is that the only reason you’re with me?” I tease.

“You’re also smart and strong, and you don’t take crap from anyone. I think it’s kind of hot having a girlfriend that could verbally and probably physically kick my butt if she really wanted to. What I don’t understand is why you want me.” He chuckles.

“Well I certainly like your looks, especially after seeing you swim,” I tease. “But mostly it’s because you’re complex. You’re smart and strong, but you’re also gentle and caring. Even when you lose your temper, it’s usually out of concern for someone else.”

“I’m working on the temper.” He touches his hand to my cheek and lets it rest there. With his thumb he traces my jaw line.

“Speaking of the past and your temper, why did you have such a problem with me when I first became team lead? Was it because I’m a girl?” I demand.

I watch him stiffen and scowl at my accusation. “Is that what you thought?” He shakes his head at me. “I’m not sexist. It’s hard to explain. I felt all mixed up between you and Kelly. Then you were acting so cold, I thought you were mad at me. So, when you became team lead, I guess I sort of expected you to make my life miserable. By the time I realized that you never told Dr. Brant about the grass, it honestly didn’t matter. I had already figured out that it was much easier to hate you than to deal with the guilt and mixed-up feelings I had.” He looks ashamed of himself as his eyes plead for my forgiveness.

I wordlessly end his misery with a gentle brush of my lips against his.

Two days later we finally hear other people in the distance. I feel a wave of butterflies in my stomach. I look at Ryan and squeeze his hand. I wonder if he’s as nervous as I suddenly feel. He pulls me to him and kisses me.

“I’m going to miss being able to do this,” he murmurs in my ear.

“Me too. It’s going to be a long couple of weeks. Can you do me one favor when we get back?” My stomach is tied in a knot now.

“Sure. What do you need?” he asks casually.

“Can you sleep upside down in your pod?” I brace myself and wait for his reaction.

“Huh?” he says, dumbfounded by my request.

I swallow hard and explain, “I know it sounds silly, but I have a theory I need to test out.” It’s mostly the truth.

“If it makes you happy, I’ll sleep on my head.” He laughs and plays with my hair.

“That won’t be necessary.”

I reach up and we kiss one last time. I try to freeze the moment in my memory: the soft, warm pressure of his lips, the sweet taste that lingers on his tongue, and the incredible way it makes me feel. I force myself to remember our friends, our new family, who are now so very close, and I let go of him. I’m full of hope, relief and apprehension as we walk side-by-side towards the voices we hear.

Toward home.

* * * * *

About the Author

Tracy
Rozzlynn
is a Science Fiction and Fantasy, Young Adult author. She lives in New England with her daughter and several pets.

Tracy
Rozzlynn
has three ongoing series.

The
Verita
Series: The 2nd book –
Concisus
– is due out Fall 2011.

The Fast-Track Trilogy:
Fast-Tracked
is now
availible
. The 2nd book -
Fast-Trapped
- is expected Christmas 2011.

The Darkened Trilogy: The 1st book -
Darkened Shadows
- will be out September 2011.

Connect with Me Online:

Twitter: http://twitter.com/TracyRozzlynn

Blog: http://TracyRozzlynn.com

Facebook
Page: http://www.facebook.com/TracyRozzlynn

Goodreads
: http://www.goodreads.com/TracyRozzlynn

Read an excerpt from the first book in the Fast-Tracked Trilogy –

Fast-Tracked
now available

While Mrs.
Doulette’s
graduation speech droned on, I naively gobbled every word of it up.
Study hard and you’ll be rewarded
. It had been drilled into me my entire life, and I wholeheartedly believed it. Our system was simple and straightforward – a high assessment score guaranteed a great career and a great life. I had no idea that, in just a few days, I would find out exactly how screwed up that thinking was.

I glanced to my right and noticed Byron sitting just a few seats over. He looked impatient to get on with the party portion of the evening. It struck me just how handsome he was in his charcoal gray suit and tie. I watched as he ran a hand through his wavy, light brown hair. To me Byron’s face had always been honest, kind, and loyal, but recently it had become ruggedly handsome. But it wasn’t his looks that had changed. He had always been considered handsome. With his mesmerizing blue eyes, perfectly balanced features, and athletic build, I was used to other girls fawning all over him. I found it amusing. Or, at least, I had – before my feelings for him had changed.

He caught me looking and smiled, before miming hanging himself from boredom. I smiled back and pretended to fan myself, hoping he’d think my sudden redness was a result of the heat.

Byron and his younger sister Camille had been my neighbors and best friends since we were little kids. We had shared everything together from scraped knees to our recent first kiss. Well, the kiss had been just me and Byron. Thankfully, Camille had been nowhere in sight for that. But she didn’t need to be there; the second she caught sight of us, she had known our relationship had been irrevocably changed, and she couldn’t have been happier.

Of course, I now suspect that Camille knew what was happening between Byron and I long before the two of us ever had a clue. During the year, Camille had constantly made plans for all of us to get together. Then, at the last moment she would cancel, conveniently leaving the two of us alone. Coincidentally, throughout the entire experience, the venue of each excursion kept getting more romantic, until the night we finally kissed. After that, all of Camille’s planning ceased. She must have figured that we were finally able to come up with secluded and romantic places all on our own.

That wonderful night had been just over two months ago. But still, all it took was Byron’s smile to make me blush and wonder just how the heck I had been so lucky to fall in love with my best friend.

“Miss Alexandria Paige
Scannell
.” Mrs.
Doulette
had finally reached the end of her prattling, and began calling everyone’s name – alphabetically by first name. She never made anything simple. Quickly I hopped up. I made my way across the stage and shook Mrs.
Doulette’s
boney, skeleton-like hand. In return, I received what appeared to be a warm, friendly smile – but I knew better. Mrs.
Doulette
looked down on all the students and couldn’t wait for a position to become available at a silver or gray level school. I returned the smile with an equal amount of insincerity. Then I proceeded to the cafeteria.

I barely recognized the room when I entered. Long ribbons of blue, purple, silver, and gold fabric had been hung in the center from the ceiling and attached to the walls. It created a tent-like canopy. The silk fabrics diluted the usually harsh florescent lighting and gave the room a soft multicolored glow. The long benches and tables we usually sat at had been replaced with round tables draped in a cream and gold cloth with matching chairs. The scene had been described to me by previous graduates, but seeing it firsthand was so much more amazing.

“I didn’t think it was possible, but in this lighting, you look even more beautiful,” Byron purred as he gently kissed my neck and wrapped himself around me. A shiver ran up my spine as his teeth accidentally grazed my earlobe.

“Flatterer.” I turned and kissed him gingerly on his lips, before our parents could enter and ruin the moment. He eagerly returned my affections. Pressing me closer to him, he kissed me back. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the familiar warmth of his touch and the surge of heat that filled me.

Pre-assessment relationships were frowned upon in general. Until assessments were finalized, there was always a chance that one person could be assigned to a working class, making the relationship impossible. Our parents explained the risks to both of us when our romance was first discovered. Definitely not one of my best days, as far as memories go. Our parents treated our kissing like a criminal act. I could have burnt the house down and still wouldn’t have evoked as strong a response as I got then. After what felt like hours of endless lectures and ranting they finally calmed down enough to listen. We assured them that we understood the risk, and promised that it only made us more determined to succeed on our assessment tests. Eventually, they backed down. Most likely it was because they figured it was a battle they couldn’t win. But, for some unknown reason, over the last two weeks, both of our fathers had become extra critical of our romance.

We claimed an empty table for our families and continued to take advantage of our moment of solitude. Camille was the first to arrive, bounding into the room with her light brown waves bouncing on her shoulders. Camille shared her brother’s coloring: the same sun-kissed skin, pale blue eyes, and hair – but that’s where the resemblance ended. Her delicate but striking features contrasted Byron’s rugged, broad ones. Camille was as sweet and delicate as she looked. And, though she would never dare admit it aloud, it was obvious to everyone that she looked up to and adored her big brother.

“Hey,
Lexi
. Hey,
Smellyron
,” she greeted us, earning herself a
noogie
from her brother. Breaking free of his grasp, she announced, as if it had just occurred to her, “Next year all of this will be for me.”

Camille hated being younger. She hated the fact that she had to wait a whole year to find out her fate, while Byron and I would already be training for our careers and living our lives.

Mr. and Mrs.
Levenson
entered the cafeteria. Mr.
Levenson
looked particularly grumpy, wiping a handkerchief across his sweaty, balding head. “Just look at this extravagance,
Everly
. The decorations alone could pay for a month’s worth of income for at least a hundred orange levels,” Mr.
Levenson
ranted to his wife.