The lights went out, and the strobe light came on again. Kids waved their arms. The kids on the dance floor did crazy dance moves to get the full effect. Lucian, the big guy who had tried to organize a football game on the quad, was running around like a puppy who’d lapped up a pitcher of coffee. He put his heart and soul into anything his prompter told him to do. My guess was, the prompter was the closest thing there was to a coach here.
“Direction. Move around. Get out there and dance,” Earbud Guy said. Except I wasn’t a fun-haver in that way. I felt more comfortable hanging out on the periphery.
Persephone waved one hand in the air, putting in the absolute minimum amount of effort possible after her own prompter had goaded her to “move around.” That seemed like the way to go, so I joined her.
Out of our crew, only Lorena was dancing, and I was certain that was only because she liked to dance and always seemed to have a ton of energy trying to burst out of her.
“What is this?” I was completely mesmerized by the whole spectacle.
“It’s incredibly artificial, incredibly pretentious fun,” Persephone said.
Grace, who was wearing a black dress instead of her ubiquitous private school jacket, came toward our little group, clapping, and did a cheerleader leg kick. “Come on, pump it up!” She reminded me so much of my mother, with her gangly build, knobby knees, and relentless drive to never get an answer wrong.
We ignored her. Ever since Grace had shushed Lorena during the orientation, there’d been tension between our little tribes.
Eve was on the opposite side of the big hall, sitting at her own table, hissing at anyone who wandered too close. She didn’t look like she was having much fun either.
The song ended, and the party emcee, or whatever he was, jogged up onto the stage and grabbed the microphone. “Okay, time for our next door prize. Everyone got their tickets?”
A bunch of people cheered or waved their tickets. One thing I had to say for this party, the prizes they were giving out were incredible.
“This one is for a brand-new Xbox Gold.” He held the Xbox in the air. An Xbox. They were giving away a freaking Xbox.
The emcee raised the crazy purple sunglasses he was wearing to go with his crazy purple outfit and top hat. He pressed a button on the electronic screen behind him, and a virtual wheel began to spin like a slot machine.
“Who will it be?” the emcee shouted.
The wheel slowed and stopped on 886.
It was my number.
Stunned, I ran toward the stage as people cheered, no doubt prompted by their earbuds.
The emcee checked my ticket. “Our winner is Benjamin! Let’s give him a big hand!” He pressed the Xbox into my hands. The shrink-wrap felt cool against my palms. I raised it in the air and carried it back to my friends as the applause petered out. I’d won an Xbox. I’d begged for one for Christmas, but it had been too expensive for Dad, and Mom thought video games rotted your brain and didn’t build character or add to your résumé. I’d have to keep it out of her sight or she’d confiscate it.
“The grand prize drawing is in a few minutes,” the emcee said. “Who’s going to win that incredibly cool ride?”
I glanced at the three-wheeled, Harley-Davidson, custom Star Wars–themed chopper motorcycle sitting in the middle of the floor. It was a black, glistening, highly polished miracle. It had a governor installed that limited the rider to fifteen miles per hour, but still, it was a motorcycle.
“Well, they bought Benjamin off.” Persephone eyed my Xbox. “They can count on his complete obedience now.”
“No, they can’t,” I protested.
“Yes, they can. This is what the powerful do—they throw just enough crumbs at the masses to make them feel grateful for their chains.”
I squinted at Persephone. She was one strange kid. She looked like she was nine, but she talked like a college professor. I would never say it out loud, but I wondered how she got picked for this program, since the teachers were so hyper-focused on everyone following the rules, and Persephone was the exact opposite of a rule follower.
Out in the center of the floor, Lucian did a handstand, then lifted one hand off the floor so he was holding his entire body up with one hand. Earbud Guy instructed me to applaud. I clapped twice.
“Who decided you had to be athletic to be cool?” Persephone asked.
I had no idea. At the moment, I didn’t really care.
The emcee hopped up onto the stage. “It’s time.” He raised his hands in the air and clapped, encouraging us to join in. “That’s right—it’s time to give away the grand prize.” The lights went out; a spotlight painted the Star Wars chopper in bright light, making it glimmer like a jewel. “One of you is going to be cruising around campus in style tomorrow. Who will it be?”
“Please let it be me,” Lucian cried out, shaking his clasped hands in the air.
The emcee raised a finger. “The wheel of chance will decide. Ready?”
A dozen voices shouted yes.
“All right. Here we go.” The emcee activated the wheel. It spun for an extra-long time before ticking to a stop on number 483.
“Who has four eighty-three?” The emcee scanned the audience. I’d expected someone to shout out immediately, but the silence stretched on. The spotlight swung around the room, seeking the winner. “Someone must have the winning number. Don’t be shy; call it out, or raise your hand. Four, eight, three.”
The spotlight painted kid after kid, searching. It passed over Eve, then circled back. Eve’s fingerless arm was raised.
“We have a winner!” the emcee shouted. “Eve is our grand prize winner.”
There was dead silence in the room.
“Direction. Clap,” Earbud Guy said. “Come on, give her a hand.”
I clapped. Other kids joined in.
“Direction. Harder,” Earbud Guy said. “Come on, make it loud.”
The applause got louder and louder. A few kids threw in a whoop, no doubt at the direction of their prompters.
“Congratulations, Eve.” the emcee gestured toward the chopper. “Go ahead, try it out.”
Eve lowered her raised arm. She seemed confused.
The emcee gestured more emphatically. “Go on.”
Eve, who was wearing an orange dress with white trim, stalked over to the motorcycle, her big, round hooflike feet thudding on the polished wood floor. She swung her leg over the seat. She gripped the handlebars.
“Twist the left for gas, the right for break,” the emcee said.
“Wait,” I said, “he’s going to let her ride it in here?”
Before I’d finished the sentence, Eve was off. She cruised around the floor as kids hustled to get out of her way. It seemed like an incredibly dangerous thing to do. At my middle school at home, we weren’t allowed to run in the halls for fear we might skin a knee, let alone ride a motorcycle.
Eve let out a wheezy, triumphant cough that must have been her version of laughter. She veered to the left, then the right, then made a big circle as trumpet-heavy music boomed.
“How stupid do they think we are?” Persephone said in my ear.
I shrugged at her. “What do you mean?”
Lorena leaned in to hear what we were talking about.
“The drawing was obviously rigged,” Persephone said, her eyebrows pinched. “This whole school is about Eve, so of course she wins the grand prize. She probably doesn’t even really win it. Whoever is playing Eve gives it back after the experiment is over.”
“It’s not a guy in a suit,” I said.
“And she just happened to win the grand prize fair and square?”
I hesitated, watching Eve tool around Jubilation Hall. “I think you’re probably right about that. It was rigged.”
“What about you winning?” Lorena gestured toward the Xbox. “Do you think that was random?”
I hadn’t even considered that. I looked down at my brand-new Xbox. Had I won it as a bribe to buy my obedience, like Persephone said?
“I don’t know.”
The double doors swung open. People began filing out, heading back to the dorm.
Eve turned her chopper toward the exit, riding right past us.
“Congratulations, Eve. You are so lucky!” Earbud Guy prompted me.
“Congratulations, Eve. You are so lucky!” I dutifully shouted. I wasn’t sure if she heard me over the rumble of the chopper. If she did, she ignored me.
We lagged behind the others and paused to sit in a gorgeous courtyard, where water cascaded down a mini-waterfall under the starlight. Everyone called it the Niagara Courtyard.
It had taken a few days to get to know the layout, but I had a good idea where everything was by now. In the center was the quad, a grassy oval the size of a football field, which was surrounded by the school, the dorm, and the cafeteria. A wide, brick walkway lined with ornate lampposts wound from the quad past an ice cream shop, a candy store, a movie theater, and an arcade. All the things a thirteen-year-old could want. We called that part of the compound Main Street. If you followed it to the end, you reached the amusement park, which had six rides and a bunch of carnival games we could play for free.
The other direction, where we were now, was a maze of brick walkways winding around a half dozen buildings. There were little parks between the buildings, with benches and shady gardens. One park was filled with thousands and thousands of tulips in a rainbow of colors, and we called that Tulipville. Another had a little bridge that crossed over a pond filled with lily pads. The biggest one had a huge, tiered fountain with dozens of life-sized Star Wars character statues frozen in battle poses. Rey was perched on the highest tier, a gusher of water shooting from her lightsaber. The edges of Star Wars Park, as we called it, were lined with statues of other characters, along with fifteen- to twenty-foot-tall models of the Millennium Falcon and the Death Star.
Lorena held out her hands and flipped them from palms up to palms down and back again. “Now, this spot has good qi.”
“Good what?” I asked.
“Good qi. Good energy. My great-grandma was a shaman in Honduras. She taught me some things.”
“Is that your mom’s grandmother?” Persephone asked.
Lorena nodded. “Dad’s from Mexico. He and my mom met in a chicken factory. One of those romantic stories Hollywood’s always making movies about.”
“Right.” Persephone turned to me. “How about you? Where are your roots?”
“Mostly Poland on my mom’s side. My dad’s parents immigrated from Ireland. Most of them worked in the coal mines in Pennsylvania. Mom and Dad met in the army. Mom stayed on. Dad did his four years and went to work for the power company back home.”
Lorena turned her head toward the dark sky. “Too bad we can’t sleep out here under the stars. The dorm room has bad qi.”
“I would think so, what with a demon sleeping there.” Persephone nudged Lorena.
“Speaking of which.” I jerked my thumb in the direction of the dorm. “We should head back before our earbud overlords kick us out.”
“Nah. Let’s stay until they make us go,” Lorena said.
That seemed like a better idea. I leaned back on the bench and soaked in the qi.