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Anna had her driver drop me off at my house and I walked inside feeling a little lighter. At least she had accepted my apology, even if it still felt like she didn’t want to address the situation. I couldn’t force it, couldn’t make her accept my secret, and maybe that was for the best. For now.
I glanced at the mail basket on the small table in the foyer and saw an envelope addressed to me, first name only. Probably a congratulatory card from one of my aunts. They were big on tradition.
Neither of my parents were home, so I took my mail into my bedroom, hung the new dress in my closet, and sat at my desk. It seemed odd to have it empty of school books and assignments. Maybe I would go through my notebooks this weekend and see if anything was worth holding onto for college. If, of course, Carter agreed I should go.
I winced at the thought and turned my attention back to the envelope. There wasn’t a return address, but the shape and weight was like that of a card. I opened the flap and pulled out a thick piece of blank white paper folded in half.
That seemed odd. My aunts—my father’s two sisters—liked frilly, flowery things with long, rambling sentiments. It seemed unlikely that they would send a card without an elaborate picture and message on the front. Furthermore, they would have included my entire name on the envelope. Formality mattered to them.
I opened the card and, in black pen on the inside, was a simple message in neat, precise print. I can’t stop thinking about you. Let’s talk. Meet me at the cemetery. Saturday at nine. V—
What? I blinked, confused, and then glanced at the envelope. It was definitely addressed to me. It’d been mailed on Wednesday. Even though it was signed, sort of, the idea of a Shamed sending something as innocuous as a card by way of the postal service seemed so strange. Almost laughable. It was such a civilized thing to do, and we’d always been told that the Shamed rejected civility.
My heartbeat kicked into high gear. Vi wanted to see me. She couldn’t stop thinking about me. That was unexpected, to say the least. There was no time to decline the invitation. Not that I wanted to, anyway, but that left me with a new dilemma. How would I sneak out to see her?
The idea of taking such a dangerous chance now that I was matched...
There also couldn’t have been a worse night to do it. Most of my classmates would probably go to the club to enjoy one last illicit party before going on their Match Day dates. Guardsmen patrols would be thick on the downtown streets in anticipation of twelfth year students out looking for a good time. The cemetery straddled that line between city and suburbs, a place often overlooked, but still in the path of guardsman and Stunner patrols. As I’d learned firsthand.
But that was the beauty of her idea, wasn’t it? She’d asked to meet at the cemetery, not the club. I could do that. I could even tell my parents I was taking a walk. As long as I was home before curfew, it wouldn’t seem all that odd.
What I couldn’t tell them, or anyone else, was who I planned to meet during that walk.
“SO, MATCH DAY IS COMING. Are you excited to see everyone out on their dates and be seen on yours?” The way Vi said it, I could tell she was mimicking the way my peers spoke. She even tilted her head to one side and batted her eyelashes. If her hair was longer, she probably would have twirled it around her finger.
I couldn’t help but double over with laughter, the first genuine joy I’d felt in weeks. Normally, I would have stifled that kind of reaction in public. But we were deep in the cemetery, far from the gate, sitting on a stone bench together.
I’d brought a glow light with me to illuminate the way, since there weren’t any lights in the graveyard. The looming monuments and knowledge that we were surrounded by entombed corpses weren’t as spooky with Vi here. Plus, there was the knowledge that everything around us protected us from drones if I were to accidentally miss curfew and one were to come along. Not that I had to worry, but someone like me being seen in the company of a Shamed... Well, that just wasn’t done. Especially now that I’d been matched.
“I’m feeling something, that’s for sure.” I curled my fingers over my knees and tried to make sense of the heat kindling inside me.
“Did you get who you wanted?”
I laughed again. “You know I didn’t.”
“Yes, I know. Only the highly privileged end up with a match they’re happy with, and even they have their regrets somewhere down the road.” Vi shrugged like she’d seen it happen before and probably would again. How did such a young girl become so worldly? She couldn’t have been more than a year or two older than me.
“Oh? What about you?” I couldn’t help but ask. The excitement of receiving her card still hadn’t worn off. I’d saved it in my underwear drawer, tucked behind everything, but now logic asserted itself. I didn’t know much about Vi, and here I was consorting with her in a semi-public place. Then again, I hadn’t told her my own last name, because... Because.
She shrugged, the glow light illuminating her just enough for me to see her expression, the way she gazed off into the distance. “I’d like to lie and say I don’t really remember, but I do. It wasn’t a happy day for me.”
“They matched you with someone you didn’t like?” I knew immediately how foolish it was to state the obvious and my chest tightened with humiliation.
Except, Vi shook her head and turned to me. “It was more than that. You know how most parents fuss over their kids getting matched, how it’s supposed to be a special rite of passage? I didn’t get to experience that. See, when you grow up in the Loyalist group home, it’s just a relief to them to get rid of you. They don’t celebrate your last day of school or your match.”
“W-what?” I drew back from her. I had guessed her parents had to have been executed or exiled for her to be one of the Shamed. But I’d never met someone who actually grew up in a government-run group home. Their existence was ubiquitous. Not in my neighborhood, but closer to downtown where the kids could attend Lincoln District.
Every child, no matter their heritage, was given an education. The group home also ensured they were fed, clothed, and had a bed to sleep in, something kids lost when their Separatist parents were caught and punished.
“Yeah, that’s right. Obviously my parents were Separatists who took their views too far. I know your type, you know—the privileged upper class kids, because I used to be one of them.” She tilted her head to one side, half-grinning. “Bet you don’t think that when you look at me, do you?”
Was she kidding? Of course not. The upper class and the elite didn’t look a thing like Vi. Our hair was tidy, our skin unmarred by tattoos, and our clothing appropriate to society’s standards. I tried to imagine Vi, maybe a few years younger, cutting her hair off in rebellion and ditching dresses for cargo pants and tank tops. What could have pushed her to become the opposite of the privilege she’d been born into?
“See, Dad was a scientist for the Matchmaking Project. But he saw something he didn’t like, something the governor wanted to do to ensure unwavering loyalty, generation after generation.” She sucked in a breath, as if dredging up the memory of her father hurt. “Dad used his position to put a stop to this, to undermine MATCH testing and more from within.”
It took me a few minutes to mull over what she’d said. It was true, matches were meant to ensure only the best outcome from couples and their offspring, though I’d never questioned how the government thought that happened.
“I don’t understand,” I blurted out.
“People were falling in love and love makes people do crazy things.” Vi leaned toward me, winked, and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Like question the status quo.”
“So, what happened to your father?”
She pulled away, her lips parted and the mischief that’d flared briefly now gone from her demeanor. “He was put to death for treason. My mother was exiled. Everyone knows when Separatists are executed or exiled, the government raises their children to ensure good little Loyalists. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t.”
The thought of losing either of my parents remained an unimaginable thing. Nausea roiled deep inside me. “Did it work with you?”
Vi barked out a bitter laugh. “What do you think? I was thirteen. No way was I going to get over what it did to me. So this is what I became. But the younger kids have it so much worse. It’s... Kira, it’s fucking traumatizing, what happens when a child is torn away from their parents. I saw it happen every day in the group home, little ones who’d lost the only love and security they ever knew. That’s why I decided I wouldn’t let it go on. That’s why on the day I got my match, I told him to go fuck himself, packed my things, and left the group home.”
I supposed her small act of rebellion might count for something. It was more than I would ever have the courage to do. Even now, I was resigned to marrying Carter at some point in the next year and asking for his permission to attend college.
She leaned toward me again, scooting close enough for our hips and arms to touch. “Have you heard of Operation Reunion?”
“No.” I could barely speak. My stomach was doing funny things, now—somersaults and twists. I didn’t know if that was better or worse. I also didn’t know what was causing it, the subject matter or the beautiful girl sitting next to me.
“It’s a smuggling ring. We reunite kids with their parents outside the wall.”
I drew back from her. “O-outside?”
How could anyone leave the city? Going outside the wall was unheard of. There was... was...
“What do you think is out there?” Vi persisted, not dropping the topic.
“Death. People starve out there, or go crazy without civilization. There’s a wasteland because of the Fracture. There’s nothing, except maybe the occasional roving band of desperate Fracture survivors. That’s why exile is a punishment.” The words spilled from my lips before I could stop them, a litany of all the things we were taught in school and by government messages. “You can’t send children out there, Vi. You’re condemning them to death.”
“Oh, Kira. What will it take to get you to open your eyes and see the truth?” Her gaze dropped and, a heartbeat later, she was kissing me. Her mouth was soft and warm against mine, partially open and inviting.
I moaned into the kiss, more confused than ever about the world around me, only certain about one thing.
That this was what I’d been waiting for since I’d accepted how I felt about girls. Accepted and rejected at the same time. Because while I couldn’t deny my desire, I had to.
Vi made it so, so difficult, though. She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me close, sparking a need to reciprocate. If anyone had ever told me my first real kiss would be a late spring night on a cemetery bench, I wouldn’t have believed it.
When Vi finally ended the kiss, I caught my breath and asked the one question that wouldn’t stop nagging at the back of my mind. “Why are you sharing any of this with me?”
That mischievous twinkle had returned to her eyes. “Because I have nothing to lose.”