I woke up disoriented sometime past noon. Downhill was a ghost town, and Clyde was nowhere to be found.
Yesterday felt like a long, strange dream. Leaving the apartment, then seeing the rotten girl in Father’s lab before running Downhill and meeting Clyde. No wonder I’d slept in so late—a lot of really weird shit had happened to me.
I didn’t know why my hands were sore until I remembered I’d dented a bus. I got up and stretched my fingers. I worked on my leg muscles with a few sets of deep lunges too.
I stared pensively off the ledge of the abandoned warehouse. With the Night Market closed until dark, there was no real draw for people to be here, though animals were. Ravens pecked at leftover garbage when they weren’t cawing and circling the sky. Long-tailed rats—emboldened by their vast numbers—scavenged the ground in groups, their mangy fur often blending in with the color of the road.
Last night, Clyde told me more about Downhill. People generally kept nighttime hours and slept in during the day. “We really only come alive after dark,” he’d said with a grin, sitting beside me on the roof. It seemed like I was already right on track with that part. I lived for nighttime.
The professions were different down here too. Besides Night Market vendors, Downhillers were musicians, stylists, performers, and “generally pretty cool people,” he promised. From what I’d seen yesterday, I had to agree. They weren’t nearly as buttoned up, and I immediately felt more welcomed here than I ever had Uphill.
I was grateful that Clyde hadn’t asked me too many questions. It was handy being able to grill him and get more information about Amaris City. My Cog was still churning through it all, figuring out what those things meant for me now.
I’d already spent most of my money on candy and a giant plushie. I had to get more of it, somehow. Whether through an odd job Downhill or some other way. I knew I could always steal again.
Even though something in my gut told me that theft was wrong, there was a new part in my Cog that argued back. I needed to do what I had to for my own survival. Plus, I was already getting hungry.
The sound of clanging metal drew me out of my mopey pondering. Someone was coming up the side of the warehouse; someone I was very relieved to see.
Clyde climbed over the ledge. Under his arm were two sandwiches wrapped in brown parchment paper. “I thought you might want a bite to eat,” he explained, blue eyes twinkling. “And if you’re not doing anything today, maybe we could hang out for a while.”
He really was my soul mate.
I ate both sandwiches pretty quickly, which seemed to surprise him for some reason. Maybe he was impressed by my speed. After I was done, we climbed down the ladder together and headed back toward the entrance of the Night Market.
“Cute necklace,” he murmured, hands hovering at the back of my neck. I immediately pictured the unpleasant scene unfolding: the clasp of the black ribbon coming undone, my Cog exposed, and Clyde screaming, Monster.
I pulled away reflexively before he could touch me, heart jackhammering in my throat.
“We’re getting more food, right?” I asked once my heart rate had returned to normal. My stomach was still rumbling. I needed to change the subject, since I was still antsy about Clyde touching my neck.
Clyde didn’t need to know that I’d been born in a lab. That was more third-date material. At least.
“More food would be good,” he said. Maybe I was only imagining it, but there seemed to be a slight edge to his voice. “You can get these, yeah? Since I got the sandwiches. One of the sandwiches was supposed to be for me, actually.”
I picked up a dozen deep-fried crullers and two cups of warm soybean milk from the lone vendor outside the entrance of the Night Market. I studiously avoided the kiosk stalls, which sold similar items but felt dead, somehow. Even if those items were available 24/7, it wasn’t the same thing as getting food directly from the vendors. In fact, I rarely saw anyone working inside the kiosk stalls. The kiosks lacked personality too—unlike the scowling vendor in black cut-off jeans, her ears studded with colorful hoops.
“That stuff is poison,” she said, scowling at the kiosk closest to her own stall. “They want to price Downhill workers out, take over the whole city. I can tell you what, no Uphiller is getting rid of me. Especially not with the bland crap they’re selling.”
Now I was really low on money, but it was almost worth it when the vendor pressed an extra steamed bun into my arms and smiled. “Thank you for the business,” she said. “I like your shoes, sweetie.”
I floated for a while on both the compliment and cruller euphoria, following Clyde to our next destination. “Where are we going, by the way?” I asked him. I’d just been walking beside him without any particular plan in mind.
“Where else?” My Downhill boy smiled, his silver lip ring glinting in the sunlight. “The cemetery, of course.”
There was something really nice about hanging out with someone all night just to the spend the next day with them too. Time stretched and got all gooey when I was next to Clyde.
It obviously didn’t hurt that he was gorgeous. I could probably have looked at him for hours and been perfectly content. The way he laid back in the grass on his elbows, lanky legs loosely crossed, with that cheeky grin … Wow. Good thing I wasn’t too hungry anymore.
We were picnicking near the Downhill side of the cemetery. This was technically our first date, since Clyde had formally asked me to come here. Or maybe being in a relationship meant it was all just one long date. I could imagine doing this forever.
“These are old grave plots. Before the Institute came to the island, people were buried here. But now anyone who dies has a different final destination—the lab.” Clyde shrugged.
Instinctively, my hand reached for the back of my neck, where my Cog churned. “I guess that’s scientific progress.” I flushed.
“Guess so.”
The sun-dappled leaves billowed gently in the wind, cooling off my heated face. Clyde turned to me and leaned in close. His hand grazed the side of my face.
Shit. Was he about to kiss me?
But all he said was “You missed a spot.”
I turned away, humiliated. There had been cruller crumbs on my face, and I hadn’t even realized it, acute senses and all. Maybe that was just Clyde’s effect on me. He really was that good-looking, and he smelled amazing too.
Like cloves and rain.
“I want to start a band,” he said, chewing his bottom lip thoughtfully. “But I’d need money for gear.”
Clyde looked at me, expecting some kind of response. But I honestly had no idea what he wanted me to say.
Behind us, I heard Uphill’s automatic lawn mowers, puttering away on the sloped green. They made me think of Father. And thinking of Father was the last thing I wanted to do right now. If he ever saw me like this, in my ruined Uphill uniform, hanging out with some Downhill boy … I couldn’t bear to imagine the disappointment in his eyes.
“What did you say your parents did again?” Clyde probed.
“I don’t have a mom,” I blurted out, fervently hoping that was enough. I was starting to pick up on more social cues the longer I spent around people. Mentioning my lack of a parent might be enough to get him to change the subject.
Clyde just nodded. “Cool.”
My idea had apparently worked—Clyde now seemed less interested in asking me about my family. He started talking about his own family and friends. He was the youngest of his siblings, and the first one to move away from home. The rest of his family lived in North America, in some place called Ohio.
I had no mental map of North America yet. Father hadn’t programmed any locations in me beyond the island. Amaris was all I knew because he expected that his daughter would always remain in the same place.
“It was pretty boring.” Clyde shrugged. “Had to get away, you know? Even though it gets expensive living here …” He looked at me expectantly again. “My parents send me money for rent every month. But they don’t get it. They aren’t all that excited about me starting a band, actually. They don’t support my vision, not even financially. My dad thinks I’ll outgrow the idea and go home.” He scoffed. “Back to Ohio. Can you believe it?”
I sort of understood what he was talking about. I could still feel something pulling me back Uphill despite my determination to get away from it. The part that perplexed me was Clyde’s parents paying for so much, even when they didn’t seem thrilled to do it. Father didn’t even want me out of the lab and yet Clyde had left a continent behind.
“You think my band is a good idea, right? It’s going to be post-punk, with a bit of a post-hardcore sound too. I’d obviously be the lead singer and guitarist. It’s gonna be a serious project. Obviously, we’ll have a ton of babes in the front row, but we’re mainly geared toward the real listeners. People who actually know music.”
“Okay,” I said. This wasn’t the most exciting conversation, but I wanted to encourage Clyde to pursue his dreams.
“The guys are super into it as well,” he went on. “All we need to get started is money. I hate money, but, you know. Necessary evil and all that.”
Again, he looked at me.
Of course, Clyde was still my soul mate. But if I were going to nitpick, one thing I’d change about him was his tendency to look directly at me whenever he mentioned needing money.
“You’re Asian, but your English is perfect, so I was thinking you probably live Uphill. Plus you bought a lot of things yesterday,” he hedged. He stared meaningfully at my giant raven plushie, which I was busy clutching. “Do you have a salaried job, or …”
Wow. He was really persistent about this money stuff. I might as well tell him the truth if we were going to be life partners, but something made me hesitate.
I felt a bit glum thinking about how I only understood English. The Downhill boys that had graffitied the Institute building knew words that I didn’t understand. A waste of time, Father had said regarding those unknown characters. English was the only language that mattered to the Institute.
“I stole a bunch of money from a tourist,” I admitted, flushing slightly. “I am not an Uphiller,” I added, both for Clyde’s sake and mine too.
His eyes widened. “Whoa, that’s cool. Didn’t realize you were such a badass. You know, I think you’d be great with the band.”
My heart expanded ten sizes. My tiny misgivings disappeared. Clyde really did see how great we were together. I leaned back against one of the cemetery’s stone gargoyles, trying my best to hide an enormous smile.
Fuck Uphill. It was Downhill all the way, with Clyde by my side.
“I’m pretty good at piano,” I told him, when the truth was I could memorize any piece of sheet music in a matter of minutes. “I think I could be a great keyboard player for the band.”
Clyde raised an eyebrow. “I was thinking more along the lines of merch girl.”
I didn’t know what a merch girl was. Penny would probably know, given all the music stuff I’d found in her bag. But then again, I wanted nothing to do with Penny.
I was about to ask Clyde for clarification on what a merch girl was, but he suddenly sat up, alert. His eyes brightened like he’d just seen a freshly made steamed bun. “Anna’s coming over,” he mumbled.
“Who?” I asked, but he was fixated, already waving. A girl around my age was coming over. She smiled at Clyde but did not look at me.
The girl wore a beige trench coat like the one I’d recently discarded. Her black patent shoes ground into the dewy grass as she crossed the cemetery. Her dark hair was neatly plaited into ribboned braids. My heart plummeted when I realized I’d seen her somewhere before.
Oh god. She was one of the Institute interns I’d run into. Even worse, she personally knew my father.
“Anna’s a rich girl,” Clyde mumbled under his breath, explaining it to me. “Sort of straitlaced if I’m being honest here. But don’t worry, she’s cool.”
“Cly!” she squealed, dropping her black briefcase and throwing her arms around him. “It’s so great to see you.”
I’d scrambled to my feet instinctively. My fists were curled at my sides. Was I about to fight someone or what? Clyde chuckled a little bit, then looked at me. “Anna, this is Helga. Helga, meet Anna. She has an internship at the Institute, doing PR for their new Cog thing. Nice, right?”
I thought Clyde hated Uphill as much as I did, but I smiled at Anna anyway. I tried not to let my panic show. She even knew about Cogs.
“It’s nice to meet you for the very first time in my life,” I said, lying through my teeth.
But the girl didn’t even seem to register my presence. Anna rolled her eyes, facing Clyde. “You know I’d rather be Downhill, but the prestige of the Institute …”
“Yeah.” Clyde’s voice instantly perked up at the word prestige. “It’s awesome you’re getting paid.”
“Oh, I’m not getting paid. None of us interns are.” She laughed. Clyde’s face immediately fell. “It’s about the status and . It’s not that bad for me, at least. I know I could probably work anywhere.”
Anna still had her back turned to me. She seemed totally engrossed by my boyfriend. “What you’re doing is so much more meaningful, Cly. You’re still DJing, right? And working on the band stuff?”
“Anything for art,” he said, smiling. “Although it’s hard making ends meet.”
She put her manicured hand on his arm. The arm of my boyfriend. The arm that was not hers to touch, especially not in such a possessive manner. I waited for Clyde to pull away from her, but he didn’t move.
So I stepped in. “Clyde is my soul mate,” I explained, with all the limited patience I possessed. “Release your hand from his arm at once.”
They both looked at me as though I’d said something really bizarre. Like that tourists were cool, or that Uphill was where all the action was.
Clyde laughed uneasily. “What Helga means is that we’re hanging out right now.”
Yesterday he’d told me that he’d never met a girl like me. I didn’t understand what he meant by “hanging out” either.
Anna looked me up and down. Well, she really looked me up, because she was shorter than me by more than half a foot. Then she turned to Clyde, recapping the work she did the Institute in the morning, which entailed printing out emails for her supervisor, getting coffee for meetings, and translating Downhill slang for the creepy but influential public information officer who had a habit of touching her shoulder whenever possible.
“I have to get back soon. I was just heading out for a quick coffee break and wanted to see if you were around … and vent a little,” she said with a smile. “See you later, cowboy.”
Anna was cute, in a short-girl way. But I was starting to think that I didn’t like her very much.
Back Uphill she went, black shoes clipping against the paved steps. I watched her pop open a black umbrella. Clyde waved until she was out of view, pulling his hood up to block out the drizzle that had just started. A drop landed on my forehead, a needling sensation that reminded me of the syringe Father had pushed into my forearm.
Clyde’s smile faded when he turned to me. “Let’s cool off for a bit,” he suggested. Even his tone was chilly. Distant, somehow.
“What do you mean?”
“I like you, Hilda, but like …”
“Helga,” I reminded him.
“We can still hang out,” he promised. “It’s just that I might want to hang out with other people too.”
Rain now drenched my shoulders, seeping through the fabric of my shirt. I pressed my raven plushie closer to my chest. “Other people?”
“We’re not exclusive.” He chuckled. “Although it was cute what you said earlier, about being soul mates. Adorable, actually.”
“But—” I stopped myself from finishing the sentence. But we are soul mates.
“I’m gonna go back to my place and take a nap before my DJ set. Take it easy, all right?” Clyde patted me gently on the head, and just like that, he was off.
I watched him saunter back Downhill, leaving me in the cemetery, feeling weirdly foolish and sad. I didn’t know what to do. It was getting closer to dark, and I didn’t even have anywhere to stay.
I eventually found shelter under the stone roof of some dead guy’s mausoleum. Even my own brilliant Cog couldn’t discern what happened with Clyde. Ravens watched me from treetops, cawing and chiding.
That was when I heard someone calling my name.
“Helga?” The voice was awfully familiar.
I turned and saw Penny on the paved path, juggling a bunch of three-ring binders along with her familiar black bag. “Helga, that is you. Thank god you’re all right.”
I did what anyone would do under the circumstances.
I ran for it.