CHAPTER 6

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 25

ANI

Cartesian dualism? I throw down my pencil, disgusted. Why on earth do I have to know this? Philosophy may just kill me. Christy is up front, actually talking with the professor, and I wonder what would happen to me if I went to the dean to drop the class. What would they threaten me with, losing credit? Having to take a big W for withdraw on my record? I could always replace it with something less Philosophy-like – Art, for instance, or even Creative Writing. I had to write a storyline for World of Fire, it can’t be that different. Still, a W might not be so bad, as long as the dean doesn’t have to call my mom.

Mom would lose her mind. I wonder what she’d threaten me with, though, now that I’m in college. Once I got a B in gym and she forbid me from talking on the phone with Dad when he was able to call from Afghanistan. I cried for a week. The only good thing about skipping grades was getting away from Mom that much sooner. Not even perfect Julie can calm her down when she goes into her snits. Especially after what happened the last time Dad came home.

Every time I think of her I hear Mom’s words in my head: Truth is, Your Honor, that he frightens me now, I just don’t know if me and my girls are safe with him in the house. 

I’ll never forget the look in his eyes as she spoke. The last fatal cracks in the shell of the man who so desperately wanted to hold himself together.

She was silent when they sentenced him.

My jaw clenches at the thought of my mother. I don’t know why she hates Dad so much. Lots of soldiers have PTSD when they come home; he didn’t mean the things he said, the things he did. If I can understand that, that he’s sick and he can get better, then so should she. She hated my gaming, too, dismissed it as a pastime for the “junkies and the jobless.” When I won the state science fair, she didn’t even come to the awards ceremony. She had a headache. I had to get a ride from Julie’s boyfriend. My phone rings. Oh no.

The phone buzzes in my pocket and I stand up and gather my books and push them towards my bag so I can leave, but then my binder falls. The phones buzzes again. I have to get it, looking at the papers scattered all over the floor around my desk, I wince as the professor looks over at me. I leave the books on the floor and rush out into the hall, bolting towards the stairs so no one will be able to hear me talking.

Kicking the block in front of the stairwell doors out of the way, I wait for the click of latch before I say, “Hello?”

“Ani.” The voice is low, Mr Anderson.

“Hey,” I start.

“How are things going at school?”

“Fine.” Should I do it? Should I ask? My heart races as I think of Tyler, moving over in the chair, looking up at me with those eyes, those eyelashes that seem to go on forever. The memory of the way he looked at me, reverent and fearful and awestruck, has been on instant replay in my head for days. I can’t delete it. I know I should eventually, but I just don’t want to let it go. “But, um, about the project. I may have to go back over to Tyler’s, I’d like to update the…”

“No, Ani. That won’t be necessary. I have complete trust in the integrity of the system. I know you’re anxious about potential errors since this is your first project on such a large scale, but don’t worry. Nerves are completely natural, and there are going to be errors and things that need updating in every system. Don’t let this keep you up at night.” He pauses. “Besides, you know the rules, you’re not going to have contact with any of the beta testers after you set up the system.”

No. I want to see him again. “But if there is an error and we don’t catch it–”

“There, you see? You’re worrying. If there’s a problem, we’ll deal with it. If you were older I’d tell you to have a beer and try and relax. Since you’re not, I think maybe a good walk around campus might do the trick.” He sighs. “Besides, Mr MacCandless is our most qualified beta tester, he has at least two years of actual piloting experience. I’ve taught him most of what he knows myself. If anyone can work around initial bugs in the system, it’s him. That kid was born to fly, he’ll figure it out.” The pride in his voice is unmistakable, and a sliver of jealousy slides in beneath my ribs.

“But–”

“You don’t find the rules guiding this project unfair, do you?” His voice is cold: a mortuary door slamming shut. Fear wedges in my throat. Oh God, what Mr Anderson could do to me if I mess this up. He knows what I did back in California, and I don’t want to go to jail.

“No, not at all.” Hating the way the words feel in my mouth as I speak, I think of the way Tyler looked at me, like I was strong, like I was there. My stomach clenches.

“The next system is set for delivery Thursday at 1600 hours, right?” His voice lifts again, but the threat underlying his previous statement stains my consciousness. I can’t ever relax around Mr Anderson, I can’t ever forget what he can do.

“Yeah, I just need a few hours to work out the bugs and it will be ready. I can probably get into the office tomorrow, I don’t have class on Wednesday afternoons.”

“Perfect. See you then.” The line goes dead.

I stare at the phone in my hand, studying it for a minute, and then shove it back into my pocket. Why is he insisting on acting as a go-between?

 

Wednesday, September 26

Ani

Who has time to join a club? Tables brimming with fliers and free water bottles litter the quad as the students at large try to sell their clubs to the freshmen.

“Hi there!” The girl looking at me is tall and classically beautiful, you know, long hair and lots of makeup and perfectly plucked brows. She shoves a leaflet into my hand and my feet crunch through a pile of leaves as I take a step back. She says, “I’m Stacy and you should meet up with me and the girls on Thursday nights. We go into an inner-city school here in New Haven to help tutor kids in need three afternoons a week. It’s a really great cause and we cover any subject you like, and–”

“Sorry.” I look at my feet. That does sound like a great thing to do but: “I have to work.”

Her nose twitches up just a little as her eyes scroll down to check out my clothes. My cheeks burn. Yeah, that’s right, I have to work. Unlike you, apparently. I look at her face, perfectly bronzed and set off by little pearl studs.

She smiles, that plastic little half-turn of the lip that I think we invented out in California, and just like that, I disappear from her line of vision. Forever.

I was an idiot for thinking that the East Coast would be different.

Swallowing, I raise my bag up a little higher on my shoulder and walk over towards the dorm, passing the table for the anime club with something that feels a little like regret.