freida.
I push the suffocating blanket off me.
There are two old windows in the wall facing me, blocked up with square mirror panes surrounded by a mahogany border. There is another, empty, bed next to me in this large, white room.
I am not in my dorm.
“You’re awake.”
She’s sitting on a stripped wooden chair at the end of the bed, so low that she has to semi-rise out of the seat in order to see me over the bed frame.
“How are you feeling?” she asks, groping for the switch on the wall, both of us blinking as she turns the light on. Her face is knotted in anxiety but softer somehow, more like the isabel I used to know.
“What happened?”
“You fainted in the cafeteria. You’ve been in Sick Bay ever since.”
“I fainted? Did everyone see? Were people laughing?”
“We thought you’d had a heart attack or something. They had to bring a Doctor in from the Euro-Zone to examine you. He was furious that an eve with a known sleep disorder was deprived of SleepSound, accused chastity-anne and chastity-ruth of neglect.”
“How do you know? Who told you all this?” I ask, but she merely shrugs before saying, “You’ve been out for two days now.”
“Out? Out as in unconscious ?”
“Seriously, you need to calm down. chastity-magdalena won’t be happy if she comes in and finds you agitated.”
“I’m not agitated,” I say agitatedly.
She looks at me skeptically and pulls her ePad out of the battered leather satchel hanging off the back of her chair.
“freida, I think I know you well enough to know when you’re feeling anxious.”
And in that moment there is so much I want to say to her I wouldn’t even know where to begin.
“Okay. I’m agitated,” I admit, and isabel throws her head back in laughter. A braid is holding her silky white hair back from her lightly freckled face, her eyes lit up with amusement. I try not to look below her shoulders, but I can’t stop myself. She’s in the same black dress, but I can see the extra bulk collecting at her neck, on her arms. When she moves, the material sticks to the rolls of fat around her tummy. I can count them as easily as I can count freja’s ribs. I feel nausea, pity, and, worst of all, a shiver of glee. If there were photos of us in our bikinis on Your Body or Mine, I would be chosen. For the first time against isabel, I would win .
“It’s been strange on MyFace with everyone banned,” she says, fiddling with her ePad. “My news feed is nonexistent.”
“At least you have access to it. I feel like my arm has been hacked off with a rusty saw.”
“Lovely visual, freida. So dramatic,” she pretends to scold me. “Come here, I’ll give you a look at mine.”
“Oh, can we? Can we go on to Artificial?”
isabel pushes herself out of the squat little chair and stands at my left shoulder. She leans in so that I can see the screen properly, her hair tickling my cheek. She still smells of lavender. If I close my eyes, I could be five again, huddled with isabel after yet another clash with chastity-ruth. A wave of affection for her crashes over me, a weakness I thought I had defeated.
“The big story is still the Charles and carrie Carmichael story,” she says.
“What happened?”
“He thought she was being too ‘friendly’ with another Inheritant at his birthday party. He broke her nose and two of her ribs.”
“He hit her in the face? I can’t believe that.”
“It’s true. They did a special edition on it—‘Combating with the Carmichaels.’”
“Why didn’t she deny it?”
“He did it on a live broadcast. They couldn’t cover it up.”
“He’s yummy. I’d let him beat me any day.” I repeat megan’s words.
“Don’t.” isabel rebukes me sharply. “Don’t say that.”
I look at the ePad. Charles’s arms are folded across his chest defensively. I click on the video “. . . and what happens between me and my companion is my business. I reserve the right to do what I want in my own
I push the suffocating blanket off me.
There are two old windows in the wall facing me, blocked up with square mirror panes surrounded by a mahogany border. There is another, empty, bed next to me in this large, white room.
I am not in my dorm.
“You’re awake.”
She’s sitting on a stripped wooden chair at the end of the bed, so low that she has to semi-rise out of the seat in order to see me over the bed frame.
“How are you feeling?” she asks, groping for the switch on the wall, both of us blinking as she turns the light on. Her face is knotted in anxiety but softer somehow, more like the isabel I used to know.
“What happened?”
“You fainted in the cafeteria. You’ve been in Sick Bay ever since.”
“I fainted? Did everyone see? Were people laughing?”
“We thought you’d had a heart attack or something. They had to bring a Doctor in from the Euro-Zone to examine you. He was furious that an eve with a known sleep disorder was deprived of SleepSound, accused chastity-anne and chastity-ruth of neglect.”
“How do you know? Who told you all this?” I ask, but she merely shrugs before saying, “You’ve been out for two days now.”
“Out? Out as in unconscious ?”
“Seriously, you need to calm down. chastity-magdalena won’t be happy if she comes in and finds you agitated.”
“I’m not agitated,” I say agitatedly.
She looks at me skeptically and pulls her ePad out of the battered leather satchel hanging off the back of her chair.
“freida, I think I know you well enough to know when you’re feeling anxious.”
And in that moment there is so much I want to say to her I wouldn’t even know where to begin.
“Okay. I’m agitated,” I admit, and isabel throws her head back in laughter. A braid is holding her silky white hair back from her lightly freckled face, her eyes lit up with amusement. I try not to look below her shoulders, but I can’t stop myself. She’s in the same black dress, but I can see the extra bulk collecting at her neck, on her arms. When she moves, the material sticks to the rolls of fat around her tummy. I can count them as easily as I can count freja’s ribs. I feel nausea, pity, and, worst of all, a shiver of glee. If there were photos of us in our bikinis on Your Body or Mine, I would be chosen. For the first time against isabel, I would win .
“It’s been strange on MyFace with everyone banned,” she says, fiddling with her ePad. “My news feed is nonexistent.”
“At least you have access to it. I feel like my arm has been hacked off with a rusty saw.”
“Lovely visual, freida. So dramatic,” she pretends to scold me. “Come here, I’ll give you a look at mine.”
“Oh, can we? Can we go on to Artificial?”
isabel pushes herself out of the squat little chair and stands at my left shoulder. She leans in so that I can see the screen properly, her hair tickling my cheek. She still smells of lavender. If I close my eyes, I could be five again, huddled with isabel after yet another clash with chastity-ruth. A wave of affection for her crashes over me, a weakness I thought I had defeated.
“The big story is still the Charles and carrie Carmichael story,” she says.
“What happened?”
“He thought she was being too ‘friendly’ with another Inheritant at his birthday party. He broke her nose and two of her ribs.”
“He hit her in the face? I can’t believe that.”
“It’s true. They did a special edition on it—‘Combating with the Carmichaels.’”
“Why didn’t she deny it?”
“He did it on a live broadcast. They couldn’t cover it up.”
“He’s yummy. I’d let him beat me any day.” I repeat megan’s words.
“Don’t.” isabel rebukes me sharply. “Don’t say that.”
I look at the ePad. Charles’s arms are folded across his chest defensively. I click on the video “. . . and what happens between me and my companion is my business. I reserve the right to do what I want in my own
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