If it were possible, the lobby of the community hall seemed even more crowded than last week. Rena held Suzanne on her hip and followed her parents through the mob of citizens who were eager to be re-inspired toward social awareness and activism.
“Clarine?”
Rena recognized the voice instantly and began looking for its source.
“Clarine Waite?”
It was Dal’s mom, calling out from across the room and waving her hand. Mr. Rigby was standing beside her. Dal was lingering a few steps behind them both, looking embarrassed. His shaggy, blond hair was combed back and to the side. And like his parents, he was wearing his most expensive clothes, which he hated. Rena had forgotten all about inviting him to consensus. Things were about to become very awkward.
Clarine waved in acknowledgment.
Mrs. Rigby immediately launched herself into the stream of citizens, cutting across the natural flow to make her way over to the Waites. Her husband followed, rolling his eyes and apologizing each time he cut in front of a family, or stopped and circled around them. It happened over and over, while Mrs. Rigby managed to avoid everyone, somehow making it look effortless.
“Janelle. It’s so good to see you,” said Clarine, with the polite but fake voice that she sometimes used when she was uncomfortable.
Janelle was always cheerful and had the features to match, with a round face, green eyes, and shoulder-length blonde hair.
Mr. Rigby finally came to stand beside his wife. He was tall, like Dal, but with dark hair and eyes. “Marshall,” he said, bending over to extend his hand.
Marshall let go of Gareth’s hand just long enough to return the greeting. “Todd. It’s been a long time. How are you?”
“Oh … I can’t complain. Business is good. You?”
“It’s good.”
Marshall was usually better than this at making conversation, but Rena could tell he would rather have been anywhere else at the moment.
Todd just nodded.
The crowds were now moving around the stationary obstacle of their small group. Dal suddenly stepped out of the flow and landed next to Rena. His arms were pinned down against his sides as he tried to make himself as narrow as possible. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Rena replied, noticing how Marshall’s eyes went immediately to Dal’s rating.
“Don’t you two usually work on weekends?” Clarine asked.
“We do …” Janelle started, before looking over at her husband.
“I just finished a project, so I have a few days off,” Todd explained.
Janelle’s already joyful expression grew into an even bigger smile. “Dal said he wanted to come, so I took the morning off. I can’t believe how many people are here.”
Clarine looked around the room. “Yeah. It’s great to see so much participation.”
“Well … why don’t we head inside? Todd and I will sit with you if you don’t mind.”
Dal rolled his eyes, and Rena wasn’t sure if it was because his mother had invited herself or if it was that she had forgotten to mention her son. It was probably the former—Dal was used to being overlooked by his parents, who were always working and hardly ever home.
Clarine smiled through her discomfort and looked at Marshall.
“Sure,” Marshall said, motioning toward the auditorium.
The group began to drift in that direction, spreading out into a long line with Marshall and Mr. Rigby leading the way.
Mrs. Rigby put her hand on Clarine’s shoulder. “Can you believe what happened the other night?”
“I know,” Clarine replied.
“You’d think it was our kids who were the criminals by the way the police acted.”
“Oh! Well … I think the officers were just concerned about our children being somewhere unsafe.”
“If you ask me,” Mrs. Rigby added, which no one had, “their time would be better spent making those places safe. Right? I mean, they’re kids. What are we supposed to do … lock them in the house?”
Clarine smiled, but didn’t reply.
Dal leaned over to Rena and spoke quietly. “We get to break up into groups at some point, right? Away from the adults?”
o
“Basically everything’s the same as when you were here last,” Rena explained, walking down the aisle between discussion booths with Dal.
“You can say that again,” he replied, tilting his head to the right.
Rena looked in that direction and spotted Kirti sitting in a discussion circle with a dozen other girls. She made eye contact, and Rena raised her hand to wave, but Kirti looked away as if she hadn’t noticed.
Dal noticed. He glanced at Rena, a certain word on the tip of his tongue.
“Snob,” they both whispered at the same time, followed immediately by their quiet laughter.
The amusement only lasted a few seconds until Rena saw the booth at the end of the aisle. Dr. Kalmus, the university professor from Segment Eleven, was looking in her direction. The sight of him suddenly reminded her that …
“Hey, Rena,” said a familiar voice from behind.
Rena turned around slowly to find Lukas behind her, a friendly smile on his face.
“Are you going to join us? Dr. Kalmus was curious to know if you’ve given any more thought to the Founders’ writings.”
“Um. I haven’t really had time to …”
“Oh. Hey, I’m Lukas,” he said, extending his hand to Dal.
Dal stared at him for a few seconds. “Yeah … I know who you are,” he finally replied before turning around and walking away.
“Dal!” Rena called out after him.
He kept walking without acknowledging her.
She turned back to Lukas and apologized before stepping away and catching up to Dal. “What was that?”
He was moving at a slow, steady pace, examining the reading material hovering over the terminals at each booth, though he wasn’t interested in any of the topics. “I thought you couldn’t stand that guy.”
“Well … yeah, but there’s no reason to be rude.”
“Sorry,” he said with a shrug. But he obviously wasn’t.
Rena continued to walk beside Dal, now feeling just as uncomfortable as when they were with their parents.
“So I guess you hang out with him here every week now? Having your little highrate discussions?”
Rena stopped walking and waited for Dal to notice and turn around. “Now who’s being a snob?”
His shoulders slumped as he turned. “No. I just … I don’t trust the guy. He bothers me for some reason.”
“Obviously.”
Dal stuck his hands in his pockets.
“You don’t need to worry about me,” Rena assured him. “I can take care of myself.”
“I know,” Dal said with raised eyebrows, and for a second he looked offended. Then his expression turned into a grin. “Speaking of … if you decide to snap his knee, you have my full support.”
Rena stepped quickly over to Dal and grabbed him by the arm. “Announce it to the whole city why don’t you?”
“Sorry.”
Rena looked up into his mischievous face. “Funny though.”
“I thought so.”
Rena took a deep breath and glanced around the room. “You know what we need?”
“A pastry?”
“A change of topic. There’s got to be something in here you care about. What about the curfew?”
Dal shrugged.
“School dress code?”
“Anything’s better than this stuff,” he replied, waving his hand over the expensive clothes his parents had made him wear.
“Come on. Let’s find something,” said Rena, pulling on his arm.
They wandered around the youth auditorium for half an hour before pausing at a booth where a young woman was speaking about the vibrant community of independent artists near the Center who depended heavily on youth votes to maintain their licenses for selling their works on the street. The opposition, and their talk of cleaning up the streets, was gaining support, so this young woman and others like her were taking their issue farther from the Center to raise awareness. Rena was intrigued by the amount of passion in the woman’s voice, but Dal seemed more fascinated by the woman’s hair. In his defense, it wasn’t something you’d see every day. Black and sleek, coiled around her neck and upper arms as if it were trying to choke her. Now that Rena was paying attention to it, she wondered if the hairstyle was a statement about the oppression felt by the artists.
When the discussion time was over, Rena and Dal were among the first to leave the youth area. But their head start was made meaningless when they stepped into the main auditorium where hundreds of adults were already filling the aisles.
Dal spotted a refreshments table on the perimeter of the room. “I’m starving. You want something?”
“Sure, but my parents are probably waiting in the—”
“Go on. I’ll catch up,” Dal said, plunging sideways through the flow of exiting youth.
Rena continued moving with the larger group, eventually ending up in the lobby where citizens were leaving in droves through the front doors. Others were hanging about, able to stop and visit where pockets of open space were forming.
Marshall and Clarine were standing near the donation terminals, talking with an older couple that Rena had never met. As she neared them, Suzanne began to squirm in Clarine’s arms. Clarine set her down and she ran over to Rena and stuck her hands up.
Rena picked up her little sister. “Hey, Suz. Did you have fun today?”
Suzanne nodded vigorously before shoving her fingers into her mouth.
Rena wrinkled her nose at the thought of germs and pulled Suzanne’s hand away from her face. “What did you do?”
Suzanne didn’t answer.
“Did you play games?”
This time she nodded.
“That’s good. I didn’t get to play any games. Everyone my age just wants to stand around and talk.”
Suzanne smiled and tried to put her fingers in her mouth again.
“Talk, talk, talk,” Rena said, bobbing her head from side to side as she pulled Suzanne’s hand away once again.
Suzanne giggled.
Clarine turned away from her conversation to smile at her daughters. “How did it go?”
“Good. I was just telling Suz that they should have games for the … older …”
Clarine’s distracted gaze drifted over Rena’s shoulder, and a strange expression crossed her face.
Rena turned around to see Lukas walking in her direction. That feeling of electricity passed through her body again, and she felt guilty about it with her mom standing so close.
“Hey, Rena. Sorry about that … thing earlier,” he said, coming to a stop in front of her.
Rena was suddenly too nervous to reply and could only manage an awkward smile.
“I just wanted to make sure I didn’t do anything to offend you. Or maybe I said something—”
“No, you didn’t. There’s no reason to apologize,” she answered, relieved that her brain and mouth were still capable of working together to produce a sentence. She could feel her mom’s stare and knew that she’d have to acknowledge it at some point. When she finally gave in, she saw a twinkle in Clarine’s eyes.
“You must be Mrs. Waite,” said Lukas, stepping forward and extending his hand. “I’m Lukas. Rena and I know each other from school.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize …” she said, shaking his hand.
“Well, I’m kind of new here. We just moved to the area a couple weeks ago.”
Clarine looked around. “Are you with your parents? I’d love to meet them.”
“No. I’m sorry. They work a lot, so they’re not able to come to consensus.”
“You come on your own, then?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Clarine’s eyes swung down to the 022 on Lukas’s hand. Her curiosity was rising by the second. Rena could just imagine the thoughts running through her head.
Twenty-two! Now here’s a responsible young man. Why hasn’t Rena said anything about him before? I didn’t know she had any other friends.
“Where did you used to live?”
“Segment Eleven.”
“Are you enjoying it here so far?”
Rena wondered if either of them would notice if she stepped away.
“Yes, ma’am. Well … I haven’t gotten to know the area very well yet. But school has been great. The class discussions are much better, for one,” he said, grinning at Rena as if they were sharing an inside joke.
“What do you mean?” Clarine asked with an unusual lilt.
Marshall had just said goodbye to the older couple and was turning to join this new conversation. His converging eyebrows revealed that he had also noticed the tone of curiosity in Clarine’s voice.
“Hello, Mr. Waite. I’m Lukas … Rena’s friend from school.”
Marshall shook the young man’s hand, and took note of the impressive rating on the back of it. “Pleasure to meet you, Lukas. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
This conversation was beginning to feel like the runaway transit pod that had destroyed a section of the radial lines a few years back.
“Oh. No problem at all, sir. I was telling Mrs. Waite about our class discussions. They’re so much more enjoyable with this high level of intelligent participation,” he explained, motioning to Rena.
Marshall turned to look at Rena as if she were a complete stranger.
“I had no idea …” Clarine replied.
“Oh, yes. Rena’s one of the most involved. It’s obvious that she’s been raised in a very intelligent household.”
“Thank you, Lukas,” Marshall replied with a softness that Rena hadn’t heard in months. “I can only imagine what your family is like, but I admire your parents already. Are they here this morning? I’d love to meet them.”
Clarine put her hand on Marshall’s arm. “Lukas’s parents work on weekends.”
“Evenings, too,” Lukas added.
“Well … they sound very productive,” Marshall concluded.
Clarine had a concerned look on her face. “Does that mean you’re by yourself for the whole day?”
Lukas shrugged. “I’m used to it. I’ll probably just end up studying and voting like normal. I get so busy during the week that it’s easy to fall behind otherwise.”
Clarine nodded with her head tilted to one side.
Rena swallowed hard. That was Clarine’s sympathetic look, and it usually preceded some outpouring of generosity. Which wouldn’t have bothered Rena, except that this one was likely going to increase her level of discomfort.
“Why don’t you come back to our house for lunch?” Clarine offered.
“That’s a great idea,” Marshall added.
Lukas looked at Rena for a moment. “Oh … I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”
“Nonsense,” Marshall said with a wave of his hand. “You have to eat one way or another, and we’d welcome the company.”
“You don’t mind, right, Rena?” Clarine asked, as if declining were an actual possibility.
Rena just smiled and shrugged. What was she supposed to say?
“Take a few hours off of voting,” Marshall said, still trying to make his case. “Good discussion shouldn’t be confined to school.”
Lukas nodded. “OK. That sounds great. Thank you.”
Rena’s heart was beating fast in anticipation of the coming awkward conversation around their kitchen table. Clarine would probably ask Lukas all sorts of very personal questions about his parents and family life. Marshall would focus on school and Lukas’s plans for work after his conversion. In their own way, each of them would converge on what they really wanted to know … if Lukas was a viable candidate for marriage to their daughter. Or it could go the other way. The discussion might revolve around social and political issues, which would put Lukas on her parents’ side and leave Rena with a difficult choice—either speak her mind and make all of them mad, or keep silent and make all of them uncomfortable.
“We should get going,” Clarine said. “I’d like to make something special for lunch.”
As the group began to move toward the front doors, Rena let out a deep breath and scooted Suzanne higher up on her hip. That’s when she noticed Dal standing on the other side of the room, his mouth hanging open in surprise, a half-eaten pastry in one hand. The one in his other hand was untouched, carefully wrapped in a napkin.
Rena’s heart sank, but before she could say anything, Dal turned and melded into the stream of citizens flowing out the door.