Nobody cares about my victory in the kitchen, or the fact Molly and I have now placed first in two assignments. The jealousy and competition amongst the girls is entirely focused on Declan. Still, as tensions rise around the estate, I find myself looking around corners, treading lightly.
We spend an entire morning listening to a lecture about voting laws—an admittedly dry topic—but Molly is positively spacey. I do my best to take notes for the both of us, since there’s a good chance we’ll have to team up again soon, but I can’t figure out what’s got her head so far lost in the clouds.
“And, like Nordania, the only other nation to require successful passage of a voter’s competency exam is . . . Molly?” Dean Edina’s voice is slightly bored, but tightly focused. Molly continues to stare out the window, and I nudge her.
“What?” She turns to me, and I nod at Dean Edina. “Oh, I’m sorry, Dean Edina. Could you please repeat the question?”
“I can’t imagine what could be more important than my lecture, Molly,” Dean Edina says with an irritated huff.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t sleep well last night.”
“You will have many nights where you won’t sleep well. There will be nights you don’t sleep at all, and it will still be your job to be present and prepared. I’ve seen it before with top candidates—do not get complacent in your victories, child.” Molly’s cheeks are pink, and I don’t dare look anywhere else.
“What about you, Arden? Are you coasting, as well?”
“Espancia, ma’am,” I say. Dean Edina blinks and sighs, leaning into the podium.
“Yes, well . . .” She shakes her head, and then continues. “I don’t see any reason to prolong this lecture. Please return clear-headed and focused after luncheon.” We pack up, and Dean Edina is gone before Molly can apologize. I wait until most of the other girls have left the classroom, and then grab Molly’s arm.
“What’s going on with you today?” I ask. She scrunches her face, but the smile she’s had glued in place all day doesn’t dissipate.
“It’s Declan,” she says. My stomach flips with a confusing mix of emotions. I haven’t seen him much since he helped me become Independent. He stood there, backing my bid for independence, and then hasn’t really spoken to me since. I can’t help but feel vulnerable, now that he’s footing the bills, and a little hurt by what is likely an unintended slight.
“What about him?”
“I spent some time with him last night. We were in the Atrium for hours. Really late—too late. I don’t think I was in bed until almost three o’clock!”
“Oh,” I say, lifting my notebook to my chest. I squeeze my fingers around it, forcing a smile. “That’s so great. How was it?”
She squeezes her eyes shut and grins.
“It was wonderful! We talked about so much. He wanted to know about where I’m from, who I miss and why—we talked about my family. He was clever and funny, and it was such a nice night, and then . . .” She pauses for a moment, and her face falls as she eyes me with tempered trust.
“Then, what?”
She leans in and lowers her voice.
“We kissed!” She sighs and giggles. “Look at me! I’m ridiculous!” I shake my head and keep the same forced smile on my face, pushing down the rising discomfort in my belly. So what? They kissed. It doesn’t matter. I don’t care, because I don’t want to kiss him. He’s already kissed me, and I ran away. Because I don’t want to kiss him.
“You’re not ridiculous. You’re excited,” I say, giving her arm a gentle squeeze as we walk through the classroom door.
“Yeah, I mean, he was really honest. He said he enjoyed having everyone here, and that he’s still getting to know people and make new connections, and blah, blah, blah . . . but I think it was really special. I mean, he was such a gentleman. Didn’t pressure me or anything. It was . . . it was really nice.” She’s practically glowing in the memory of her mediocre tryst. I don’t want to burst her bubble, but a strange, simmering anger rises in my chest, and I laugh—too hard.
“So, just to be clear, on the same occasion that he had his tongue in your mouth, he told you he wants to put his tongue in other peoples’ mouths? How charming.” She stops, the hallway far too quiet without the clack of our heels on the black and white tiled floors, and her eyebrows narrow.
“No, he didn’t. I think he was just trying to be a decent guy and explain that, while we have this great”—she hesitates, as if she can’t get her tongue to work around the word—“connection, he has to continue getting to know the other girls, because that’s what he’s here for.” I want to correct her. That’s not what he’s here for. He’s here because he lives here. That’s just what we’re here for.
“So, he said you have a great connection?” I ask.
“Yes—I mean, not in those precise words, but more or less.” Her eyes dart back and forth, and she sets her jaw.
“Okay, so, ‘more or less,’ he wants to make out with you, but he wants to make out with other girls, too. But since he told you, that makes him a good guy? Yeah, I totally get that,” I say, shaking my head. Unbelievable. I know this is the game he’s playing, but to see him sucking Molly into it so completely is infuriating. He’s never going to pick her—she doesn’t deserve this.
“God, I knew I shouldn’t tell you about this. Jealousy is such an ugly color on you.” Her eyebrows are low, and her bottom lip pushes up, squishing a frown into her nose.
“I’m not jealous, Molly. I’m worried!”
“Right. Yeah, that’s rich. Another girl competing for the same guy who doesn’t have nearly the connection with him that I do, and you’re worried about me? Bullshit.”
“I think you deserve better.”
“What, and you don’t?” She takes a deep breath, and her cheeks flush red with her barely concealed anger. “What’s your plan, Arden? You think you’re gonna convince me that I don’t want him? That I don’t want this? Of course I do! Why else would I be here? You know, I thought, for a split second, that you’d be happy for me. God, I was such an idiot.”
“Molly, I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but you should go into this with your eyes open,” I say, placing a steady hand on her shoulder. She shrugs me off.
“I know exactly what I’m doing. And I’m doing better than you, so back off.”
She stomps down the hall, leaving me alone. A guard stands not ten feet away. I look at him, and he pretends not to have heard the whole thing.
“Am I nuts?” I ask him. He looks startled, and then shakes his head.
“I think you’re all nuts, miss.”