Chapter Five

“What happened to you?” Jax is finally at his locker. It’s been three days since I last saw him and he hasn’t returned any of my messages. He’s roughly six feet tall, and he hasn’t filled out yet. He’s definitely taller than me. He has blond hair with loose curls and brown eyes.

“In trouble,” he says with a smile that dies on his lips.

He’s different, although I can’t figure out why. He won’t look at me. Does he blame me for getting in trouble?

“Did I do something wrong?” Maybe I should’ve taken the note so Rhys wouldn’t have gotten hold of it. More guilt slams into me. I hate the fact he was in trouble.

“No. Of course not.” His gaze is fixed on a spot inside his locker. “I just spent three days alone in a room with Terrible Tilly at school and without a single piece of technology at home.”

“Okay, that would put anyone in a bad mood.” When Ms. Tilly isn’t teaching calculus, she’s responsible for in-school suspension. “What else? Are you working in the technology lab again?”

“No. Thankfully not.” His back is stiff, and he keeps glancing around like he’s afraid someone will see us together. Who does he think is going to walk up?

His voice is strained, too. It’s like we haven’t been friends for the past three years. Something is off with him.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

“Yeah.” He tries to play it casual, and I don’t push him.

“Three days with Terrible Tilly, and that’s your whole punishment?” My shoulder gets bumped. I glance over, ready to shoot side-eye at someone. A Cerebral mumbles an apology and keeps walking. I think he means it. The halls are like an ant farm, thick with teenagers.

“Were you hoping for worse?” A little of his sense of humor is back. He shrugs, and some of his stiffness eases, too. “I had to sign an agreement that I wouldn’t do it again.”

“Like a legal document?” I’ve never heard of that one before.

“Yeah. I’m not supposed to talk about it, though.” He glances around again. His gaze fixes on something behind me, and he frowns.

Before I can turn around to see what he’s glaring at, a pair of arms encircles my waist, and I know the second he touches me that it’s my boyfriend. I’ve memorized the way he feels and his warm, spicy scent.

“Hey,” he whispers in my ear.

I lean back against his chest, and I can feel his heartbeat, quick and strong. And then I straighten up real quick when I think about how much he’s risking by touching me in public.

“I’ll try to come to see you this weekend,” he says in that low, quiet voice that makes the world shrink to just the two of us.

Today is Friday, and I have dinner with my sponsors tomorrow night. I have no idea how he plans to pull off a weekend visit. Legacy kids are never around on the weekend, and it’ll look suspicious if he’s here.

“Will you be around today?” I hope to see him at least one more time, in case. Monday seems like forever away with him.

“Not much. I’ll try to find you before I leave.” He squeezes my hand. A warm shiver runs through me. “See you later.”

“Bye,” is all I can say through the haze in my mind that is Caius.

As soon as he steps away, I feel the cold air on my back.

“Hey, Jax,” he says, holding onto my hand a second longer than usual.

“Yeah, hey,” Jax grumbles.

Caius is unmoved. He cracks a dimpled smile, nods toward me, and then takes off for class.

“What’s with the attitude?” I ask my so-called best friend.

“I can’t believe you’d go out with one of them.” He doesn’t have to spell it out. He means a Legacy kid.

“Really? Because the last time I checked your uncle attended Easton and that makes you one of them,” I shoot back a little too defensively.

He shuts his locker. Hard.

“That doesn’t make me one of them. I got in because I worked my butt off just like you.” There’s so much brewing behind his eyes that I can’t begin to sort it out. His whole identity is wrapped up in being a Tech nerd and not a Legacy.

“Look, Jax, I wasn’t tr—”

“Forget it.” He walks off before I can finish. His reaction is a slap in the face. I had no idea he’d be this upset about me and Caius. Adalynn is just the opposite. She’s been plying me for details all week. I don’t dare tell her everything because I don’t want to put her in the position of having to make the decision of lying to cover for me or telling the truth to save her own skin. Knowing Adalynn, she’d jeopardize her own future to keep me out of trouble.

This way is best despite how much it kills me not to be able to talk to my best friend about literally the most awesome thing that’s happened to me since coming to Easton. She can’t say what she doesn’t know.

The third bell rings.

If I don’t hurry, I’ll be late to class.

I don’t see my boyfriend or Jax for the rest of the day, and I’m sure he is avoiding me, which sucks. I miss my friend. Is he that upset about me going out with a Legacy? If he knew Caius, then Jax wouldn’t be so angry. Maybe I can find a way to get the two of them together? Ease the tension brewing between us because it’s the worst feeling like I’m letting him down somehow.

Not until Jax gets over his moodiness toward me. Maybe he just needs a little time. Being with Tilly would set the most tranquil person off.

Seeing Jax this morning does nothing to calm my stress about him. I chalk up the awkwardness between us to me dating Caius, but in my heart, I know there’s more to it. He was cold-shouldering me from the second he saw me, and that’s not like him at all.

After taking my seat in physics class, I open my satchel to pull out my AllinOne and find a folded-up piece of paper. I immediately flatten it out on my desk.

Based on the scribbled handwriting, I already know the message is from my tech buddy, even without his signature at the bottom.

Found a way to send msgs w/out leaving a bunny. Check ur AiO. Don’t freak.

I tug at the corners of my AllinOne. The bunny he’s talking about means he’s figured out how to communicate without leaving a trail. There’s a new icon at the top right corner of my screen. I touch it. Jax’s face fills the screen. I’m so bored, is written at the bottom of the image. I was expecting a different message, but this is so Jax. He would definitely want to test the system before sending anything personal.

His mouth screws up awkwardly, and he rolls his eyes before the image shrinks and then disappears. I smile despite my efforts to hold it in, and then check the right corner of my screen. The icon is gone. There’s nothing in my trash folder, either.

I cover my mouth and fake a cough as I laugh.

At least he’s talking to me again. Sort of.

…

Friday night is a bust. Caius doesn’t show and I’m disappointed. I can’t say I’m surprised. He would’ve been pulling off a miracle to get into Easton. But then, he knows the place. My session at the studio is good, at least. I work off my tension. The thought of spending an entire evening with the Chaffees tomorrow is enough to knot every muscle in my back.

I pray that I don’t drop my fork or pick up the wrong one for my salad when we eat. The whole night is awkward embarrassment waiting to happen, and I can’t afford to make mistakes with them. Losing their sponsorship means getting kicked out. I touch the hem of my shirt at my side where the seams overlap and then roll it between my thumb and forefinger.

After my shower, I curl up in bed with my AllinOne. There’s a message from Caius.

Happy Birthday, Tori.

There’s a happy face followed by a sad face. The second one means he won’t be here tonight. There’s no way he’d be careless enough to say it outright. He realizes that my AllinOne is monitored, which also makes me more nervous about Jax’s secret messages. I hope my tech nerd friend is right, and they can’t be tracked.

My message icon dances. It’s Adalynn with another birthday greeting. I glance at the clock. 12:02 a.m. Happy Birthday to me. I can’t help but think about Trevor. What is he doing right now? When we were little, we used to set an alarm to wake up at midnight to be the first to wish each other happy birthday.

I check my message icon like I expect it to be dancing. This is the third year in a row that Trevor hasn’t contacted me. Is it possible that Easton is blocking him?

There’s a video from my mom. I click on it.

Happy Birthday, Tori Faith, Mom says. Hearing my mom’s voice lightens my heavy mood. My mom’s face fills the screen this time. Where’s Trevor?

Your brother wishes he could be here, but he’s skiing in Vermont with a couple of his classmates. I should probably believe her, and I can’t exactly put my finger on exactly why I don’t. I guess it’s just skiing and Trevor? It sounds so typical, and he’s never been much of a joiner. Not to mention how difficult it is to get a travel pass out of the country.

Then again, a lot can change in three years, and Mom and Trevor have special privileges now. I want to replay my birthday video message from last year in order to see my brother, but I can’t. I replayed that one so often that I got to have extra sessions with Dr. Sara, my psychiatrist, to talk about my ‘attachment issues.’

I never have figured out why Sponsored kids need regular therapy sessions. Sure, send us to a shrink if we think we need the help, but the appointments are never about how we’re feeling. The sessions are always “watch this video clip and then respond.” She measures my reactions like I’m two chemicals mixed together in a test tube, evaluating my response and constantly analyzing if I’ve performed as expected. It’s creepy to have someone digging around in my head. It has made me better at masking my emotions. But then, I can’t talk about what I’m feeling with anyone, not even Adalynn and Jax.

Snyder said therapy sessions are to make sure the strain of attending a school like Easton isn’t too much for someone like me. She didn’t say the last part outright, but I’m not stupid. I’m a first-generation student, and they’re afraid I’ll crack under the pressure. Easton isn’t that hard. My IQ is ridiculous. I guess they’re worried about us being away from home, away from our families, away from everything we’ve ever known growing up.

Weird, because out of fourteen of us, only a few of us have families. The rest are orphans.

Administration studies us like bugs under a microscope, and I’m pretty sure they want to monitor how well we’ll adjust to being with kids who have had far more advantage than us.

Anyway, I love you and want you to study hard. There’s a pinched smile on my mom’s face as she nods.

We’re being well cared for by the council, and have so much food that our pantry is about to burst. Her smile is a bit too wide.

We have fresh bread every morning sent over special delivery. A boy by the name of Stan delivers it on his motorized bicycle. It’s the cutest thing. Oh, and we have enough vegetables to feed half of Pexidition. Pexidition was our old neighborhood. We were so poor after Dad died that bread and vegetables were hard to come by. Mom barely scraped by.

Anyway, your brother said to tell you, Happy Birthday. We’ll see you soon. Love you.

She waves. And that’s it. Tears well in my eyes, but none fall. I can’t afford to get emotional.

An icon appears in the top right corner of my screen—a message from Jax. I touch it, and his face fills my screen. The volume is on low, and I can barely hear him singing a birthday song to me. He’s forcing himself to smile, which is weird. I have no way to respond to his message, especially since no one is supposed to know he sent it, and the last thing I want to do is raise suspicion.

I respond to Adalynn’s message, and then answer Caius. I save him for last and close my eyes while thinking about him.

Curled under the covers, I should feel safe. For some reason, I don’t. I blame it on missing my family, but there’s something else bothering me, and I can’t quite pinpoint what it is. It’s been eating at me for days.

The next morning, I sleep in and then spend the rest of the day catching up on homework and prepping for next week’s tests. Anything to distract myself from the panic looming about dinner with my sponsors.

By the time four o’clock rolls around, I’m a nervous wreck. Spending a whole evening with Eleanor and Spencer is enough to tie my stomach in knots. I dress in the tea-length designer dress waiting for me in my closet—the one they sent—and apply light makeup. The dress is pale purple and has a sweetheart neckline. There are coordinating heels.

I’m not much for strapping stilts onto my feet and trying to walk, but I don’t have a choice. Pointe shoes should be far worse, but they’re more comfortable for me.

Out of habit, I cover my burn mark with tinted powder. Once, I forgot, and it was all Eleanor focused on during dinner. It’s bad enough that I have the permanent mark. I don’t need someone staring at it all night, making me even more self-conscious.

I’m ready for my big dinner a half hour early. Well, I’m dressed, if not exactly ready. I decide to keep my hair down so I can use it as a curtain at dinner. It isn’t much defense. This is all I’ve got. Plus, the Chafees’ house is always cold.

I practice smiling in the mirror a few times when I hear a kitten’s meow.

There’s no way a cat is inside my dorm room. I’ve never even owned a pet, exactly. Unless I count the cat I used to feed outside my window in Pexidition. He had the most beautiful coloring. Orange, brown, and black. He looked like a patchwork quilt, which is why I named him Patches. If I got to go home, would he still paw at my window for scraps? I miss him. Does anyone feed him now that me and Trevor are gone?

Meow.

I search under my bed for the source of the noise. I straighten up and check the covers. It’s silly because there are no lumps. I make my bed every day in case there’s a surprise inspection.

The noise sounds again, it’s coming from my AllinOne. I pick it up and tug at the corners until it expands enough so that I can read the screen.

There’s a message from Jax in my Inbox. Sorry about yesterday morning. Happy Birthday, Tori.

I smile as I respond. No worries. I’d be crabby if I had to spend three days with Tilly. *shivers* Thanks for the kitten, by the way!

I’m probably overdoing it with the exclamation point, but I feel bad that he is so upset about me and Caius. If the shoe were on the other foot, I might feel the same way. When my best friend gets to know my boyfriend, it’ll be different. He’ll realize that Caius isn’t like other Legacies, and especially not like Rhys.

A response shows from Jax, but it’s an icon in the top right corner of my screen. I tap it, and words scroll across.

Meet me by the service gates right now before the car comes to pick you up.

I respond through our normal message box with only a smiley face. I didn’t tell him about the dinner with my sponsor, so I know he’s been talking to Adalynn. Maybe she told him good things about Caius. It might be selfish, but I want my best friends to get along with my boyfriend.

I lock my door as I leave, which is a false sense of security at best. Everyone living in my wing is Sponsored and wouldn’t risk getting kicked out over taking someone else’s stuff. Plus, none of us has anything the others don’t. We’re all poor. Also, privacy is an illusion. The administration has a master key, and they can search our rooms at any time. They do. They perform random searches for contraband items every month or so, which is anything the school didn’t issue to us when we arrived.

I double-check my wrist to make sure I’m wearing my bracelet. It wouldn’t go over well if I show up at the Chaffee’s house without the gift they gave me. I pretty much wear it all the time except when I’m in the studio. No one would expect me to work out while wearing jewelry, so at least I get that break.

Security is the same, but the enforcers are more visible because there are so few kids. Us Sponsored are the only ones here, and it would be unusual for one of us to be walking around the grounds in the evening on a Saturday night. We have a common room that no one ever goes to. We spend all week faking smiles to teachers. The last thing we want to do is plaster on another one and hang out with each other, pretending we’re not competing for grades. I always go to my room and study or grab a few extra hours of studio time.

Tonight, I hope that if anyone sees me, they won’t think too much about it. I’m nervous someone will stop me, and I’ll choke up. We have security in the form of drones to keep us safe and make sure no one enters the property without permission.

Jax is waiting on the other side of the fence near the personnel entrance. I smile at him.

“How’d you get here?”

“Drove.” He cracks a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. His brown eyes radiate an apology. Is this supposed to make up for giving me the cold shoulder all week? He also looks at me strangely, and I can’t figure out what’s going on inside his head.

“What?” I suddenly feel defensive.

“That dress,” he mumbles. And then he compliments how I look.

My cheeks are literally burning embers right now, so I break eye contact. “It’s theirs. I have to wear it.”

“Oh. Right.” He catches himself and clears his throat.

“Clever,” I say about his earlier comment, grateful he’s talking to me again.

“I brought a present.” He produces a kitten from behind his back.

“Aw.” She’s all black and small enough to fit in one of his hands.

“Don’t get too attached. You can’t keep it,” he warns.

“Obviously.” I try to find a way to reach through the bars to pet the little ball of fur without electrocuting it or myself.

Jax places a small device in between two of the bars, one end touching each bar. “This won’t hold for long, so be ready to take her when I say.”

He glances up at me. The same storm brews behind his eyes as did the other morning. And something else? Pity, maybe? It doesn’t bother me. At least we’re talking.

“Take her,” he says, holding the kitten toward me.

I reach in, half expecting to be fried. Nothing happens.

“How’d you…” I start to ask, but I’m distracted by the furry creature in my palm.

He pulls the small device back and electricity sparks.

“I short-circuited the system for a few seconds and transferred the energy into this device.” He tossed it from one hand to the other like he’s playing a game of Hot Potato. “Anything longer than five seconds alerts security to the outage.”

“Nice.” Jax is brilliant. I feel bad about accusing him of only getting into Easton because of his uncle. I don’t dare bring it up again, though, not even to apologize. I don’t want to spoil the mood. Besides, I’m busy nuzzling the kitten to my cheek. She’s soft and sweet. “This is the best present.”

“I know how much you miss that fur ball you used to talk about from home,” he says a little awkwardly. Since when did he turn into the sentimental type?

It’s true. I miss everything about home except the part about not having enough food or having to move every few months to find a safe place to sleep. If I can keep my head down and stay focused a few more years, I’ll be able to change that.

Right now, I don’t want to think about my problems, and at least my family is being well fed. Besides, I have no idea what goes on outside these walls. Administration controls the internet, so I only have access to what they want. The governor of Maine controls everything else. The council says we’ll accomplish more if we focus on our own backyard. Maine used to be a state until the United States of America became too big, too polarized. Nothing got done anymore, and civil unrest was on the rise.

In order to avoid another civil war, the federal government was phased out, and control moved back to each state. Not a perfect system. I’ve heard rumors about countries on the brink of war over territory lines. Teachers tell us it’s still better than it was before the split.

“This little girl is the best.” I look into the kitten’s green eyes. Her pink, heart-shaped nose is so tiny. She brings up her paw and licks it.

“Sorry about before,” Jax finally says. “I was a jerk.”

“It’s cool. Besides, this more than makes up for it.” I nuzzle the kitten.

“Did you know some colleges you’re looking at will let you have a pet? They say it reduces stress or something.”

“Really?” I doubt if they’ll let a Sponsored kid keep an animal. We don’t have the same rules as everyone else. But I don’t say anything because he is happy with himself, and I don’t want to be a downer.

“I was thinking that I could keep him for you. At least until college.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I say.

“I don’t mind,” he quickly counters. He’s most likely attempting to make up for cold-shouldering me lately.

“Seriously, I forgive you.”

“I know. I just thought it would give you something to look forward to.” His voice is low, and there’s something brewing behind his brown eyes. Guilt? Sadness?

“The thought of getting out of here is enough motivation.” I meant it as a joke. He doesn’t laugh. His gaze is even more intense as he stares down at his shoes. I hope I haven’t offended him. “Really. It’s okay. I mean, I already love this little girl, but you are just as busy as I am. Remember that time you decided to keep a houseplant? How long did it survive?”

Stroking the soft fur eases some of my tension about facing my sponsors at dinner. Maybe researchers are onto something with this stress reduction idea.

“I’ll take care of him, Tori.” There’s so much promise in his voice that I don’t say anything else.

A few quiet minutes pass, and this is the first time I’ve ever felt awkward around Jax. Since I can’t think of anything else to say, I hug the kitten. “You better take her back. The car should be here soon, and I should head to the front.”

He uses his device to short circuit the system again and quickly takes the kitten. “Don’t worry about her. My family loves her. You know, in case you can’t take her later.”

“She’s a great present, Jax. Thanks.” I look at my kitty. “And don’t you worry, I’ll find a way to keep her with me.”

My best friend finally smiles, but it’s not the usual easy Jax smile that I’m used to. This one is strained, and I’m guessing the stress of college announcements is getting to everyone. The fact that he screwed up big-time right now is almost unthinkable to anyone except him. I don’t say it, but Adalynn’s right. He’ll bounce back from this. Whether he wants to admit it or not, he’s not just a Tech kid, he’s Legacy.

“I just thought you should have something to look forward to in college,” he repeats.

“We’re still planning on figuring out how to attend the same school, right?” The three of us have been planning that since we met. Is it weird that I suddenly wish Caius plans to apply to the same schools? I’m just hoping it’ll all work out somehow.

“Just in case I don’t get in,” he says. So, I’m right. He’s distracted because he thinks his antics will get in the way of acceptance.

“It’s too early to worry about that right now.” I’m lying, but he doesn’t call me out.

“Yeah,” is all he says.

“Jax, you’re going to get in. Kids have done much worse than pass a note in class. You’ll be fine.”

“Happy Birthday, Tori,” he says. “You better get going.”

I smile and wave. “Take care of my kitty.”

Apparently, the positive effects of pet ownership don’t last long because my anxiety is at an all-time high by the time I slip inside the car waiting at the front of the Administration building. I’m breaking more rules than I ever have in my life, and it’s only a matter of time before my actions catch up with me. It has to. I’ve never been lucky, and that’s how I learned to work hard. I’ve never been able to rely on chance.

The metal gates slowly open, and my pulse picks up as I lean against the leather seat. There’s normally a blacked-out window separating me from the driver. Not today. He’s a big man, middle-aged with a mustache that looks from a different time period. Jax sent me pictures of what people looked like in the seventies once. This guy’s mustache is dead-on.

“They keep you pretty busy studying at that fancy school?” His attention is on the patch of road in front of us.

“Finals are around the corner.” I want to grill him about what goes on outside of here. He has access to news and, even if I had free rein, the administration keeps track of my browsing history. Freshman year, I made the mistake of searching for information about my family. I got hauled into a panel to discuss whether or not I could handle it here at Easton and if they needed to bring in my sponsor to evaluate whether or not I was adjusting well enough to school. They put tighter controls on my access, too.

I told them I was bored, not homesick, and needed to be in harder classes. It was all I could think of at the time, and it backfired big-time. I got assigned so much homework I barely saw the outside of my dorm room that first year. The panel, led by Headmaster Davidson, gave me a pass as long as I promised not to use my AllinOne for anything not directly related to schoolwork again.

Jax has built firewalls and extra controls into it now to make it harder for them to monitor me. He might be one step ahead of them, but I’m afraid of what they’ll do to me when they catch up. I don’t risk making the same mistake twice and getting kicked out.

I’ve gotten better at hiding things, which is probably the reason Caius and I haven’t been caught sneaking off campus already. We’ve been cautious, though. He can’t afford trouble any more than I can. It’s tricky enough that we’re dating. As far as I know, there’s no precedent for a Legacy to date a Sponsored.

We’re on the opposite side of town but this area is similar to Easton with the tall trees and the modern houses blended in with traditional.

My sponsors live in an estate. Their metal gate is a couple of feet shorter than the one at school. Is theirs live-wired, too? We haven’t made it halfway down the heavily treed path to their French country-inspired mansion before my heart breaks into a gallop.

“Good luck in there.” The driver checks the rearview mirror, and his serious brown eyes catch mine. “You got enough on your mind with that fancy school.”

“Yeah,” I mumble, and I’m confused. If I’m supposed to understand what any of that conversation meant, he has a surprise coming. I thank him anyway, slide out of the car, and then walk up to the door and ring the bell.

Eleanor answers. She’s wearing a camel-colored pantsuit, and her hair is pulled off her face into a neat up-do. I imagine that her wheat-blond hair must be long, but she’s never worn it down in the few times I’ve been here.

“Victoria, it’s so nice of you to come.” She opens the door wider, so I take the cue and walk inside. I’ve never seen so much jewelry in one place, let alone on one person. Teardrop diamond earrings hang almost down to her shoulders. Mrs. Chaffee is always done up, and my sarcastic side wonders why she’d be dressed up for me. I’d feel special, but these are probably everyday clothes for her.

“Thank you for inviting me.” I half expect her to check my wrist for the bracelet she gave me. It looked expensive, and it’s a little odd that she doesn’t look.

She motions toward the formal dining room to the left. My family’s entire apartment would fit in this woman’s foyer. The house is so big that our footsteps echo when I follow her into the adjacent room. The floors are solid white, polished marble. There are fresh flowers on the table with seating for a dozen in the dining room. The table is made of some kind of rare wood. If I’d spent more time outdoors, I’d probably know what kind.

The place is massive, and even though there’s furniture and everything’s perfectly decorated, it has an unfamiliar feel…hollow and empty. Sterile. I can’t imagine Caius growing up in a place like this.

“How was the ride over?” She makes a gesture toward a seat near the head of the table. When I study her face as I pass by, I see lines. I can’t tell if they’re from worry or stress.

“Fine.”

“How was traffic?” Her makeup is perfect, too. A little too dark with the gray eyeshadow, but it looks right on her, somehow.

“Light.” I’m a puppet tonight. I sit where I’m told. I smile despite the fact my face already hurts from practicing in the mirror earlier and my top lip sticks to my gums because my mouth is so dry.

She frowns. “Mr. Chaffee is coming from the other direction. Must only be bad on that side.”

I have no idea how to respond to that. I smile again. Harder.

“I’m glad he’s running late. That way, we have time for some…girl talk.” Her icy smile sends a chill down my back.

This should be interesting.

I don’t say anything. I nod and smile, figuring she can’t find fault with my words if I don’t say a lot of them. My reasoning is twisted, I know, but I’m a ball of nerves and that makes it tough to think straight.

A server comes in and stands beside her, holding a tray. Mrs. Chaffee nods and waves the young woman away after taking a plate. She sets the appetizer-sized meatballs in between us and takes a seat at the head of the table. I’m to her left.

She pours two glasses from carafes that have already been set up on the table. Hers is wine, and mine’s cranberry juice. It looks like it, and that’s what she gave me the last time I was here.

“Seventeen.” She leans back in her chair, and her eyes go to a distant place. She takes a sip from her expensive crystal-cut stemware. The cuts of glass sparkle in the light from the chandelier. “I remember being that age. Right before college. The promise of the whole world in front of you.”

“Exciting times.” I muster as much enthusiasm as I can. I have no idea where she’s going with this. Then again, maybe she just wants to talk. Is her life as it seems to me? I have a fleeting thought that this house needs children, but I dismiss it. Eleanor doesn’t strike me as the mothering type.

I glance around. “May I ask a question?”

“Of course.” Her gaze drifts toward me.

She’s not the warmest person, but I thought everyone wanted a family. On the surface, the woman has everything; a house too big for two people, more money than she can spend, plenty of food. So, I go for it, “Do you want children?”

Her back goes rigid, and she forces a smile. “Yes, I do.”

“Does Mr. Chaffee?” I can’t decide who the holdout is.

“Naturally, he does.” She takes a deep breath and then releases slowly. “We’ve just been waiting for…” There’s a wistful quality to her eyes now. “The right timing.”

Wistful isn’t the right word for her emotion, but I can’t quite put my finger on what is.

She takes a sip of wine and then sets the crystal glass on the table, signaling this conversation is over. The reaction surprises me, but then the day I figure out the Chaffees is the day I become head council. Snyder is already gunning for that post.

“Are you friendly with a lot of people at school?” she asks.

I shrug casually, even though my heartbeat is at a canter. “I have a couple of friends.”

“Are you very close with them?”

Where this is going, and why does she want to know about my personal life?

“They’re all right.” I feel like a bug under a glass with her eyes on me. Mr. Chaffee in the room makes it even worse. Put those two together, and I feel like that same bug under a magnifying glass in hundred-degree heat. Tonight, I wish he’d show.

“Good. It’s important to surround yourself with the right people, Victoria.” She runs her index finger along the rim of the glass. “You’ll learn that some people are more important than others.”

I have nothing to say to that. I’m pretty sure that I have a good handle on who I want to spend my free time with, even though I don’t dare comment. My pulse has hit its stride, galloping wildly as if toward some imaginary finish line. I wish she’d make her point, so we can get on with this meal and I can go back to my dorm.

“Meatball?” She motions toward the intricately patterned silver platter.

“Thank you.” I pick up my appetizer fork and take one despite the fact I have no appetite. I’m waiting for her to drop the bomb that she knows about me and my boyfriend. I suddenly regret going public with our relationship so soon and at such a critical time. Everything I’ve sacrificed the past three years for might go up in smoke.

She takes one and sets it on the small plate in front of her, opting for another sip of wine as she rolls the meatball around with her fork. “Are you friendly with the help at Easton?”

“Like my teachers?”

She shrugs. The meatball slips out from under her fork and rolls to the other side of her plate. “What about maintenance staff. Janitors?”

I’m fixated on that meatball as she tries to push her fork into it but only manages to nudge it away from her. The maintenance staff she’s referring to is made up of kids like me. Or at least, like me before I was Selected.

“Not really. I can’t say that I know any of them by name.” I don’t dare ask why. I’d rather talk about something else. Anything else but my relationships at Easton and especially Caius.

The meatball is positioned directly under the tines of her fork with barely a half-inch of space between.

“Good.” She stabs the meatball dead center.

I can’t help it. I tense.

“Because that wouldn’t be good for your future, would it?” She pops the meatball in her mouth.

This is going to be a long night. I slowly chew on my meatball.

She opens her mouth to speak again as noise sounds from the kitchen.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Mr. Chaffee says. I’ve never been so happy to hear his voice.

“We’re in the dining room.” Something stirs behind her eyes that I can’t quite put my finger on.

My attempt to connect the dots to our earlier conversation comes up empty when Mr. Chaffee breezes into the room. He’s handsome in his crisp, expensive suit. Together, they’re probably one of the most beautiful couples I’ve ever seen—her with her stylish clothes and flawless face, and him with his expensive suits and close-clipped dark hair. They’re not terribly old, mid-thirties would be my best guess. They somehow look younger, but that’s impossible. Her face is a little too pulled-looking if I look closely enough.

He nods and then kisses her on the cheek. His actions are perfunctory, like picking up a newspaper from the driveway while walking toward the house.

“Did traffic finally open up, dear?” She doesn’t look up from the rim of her wineglass.

“Took longer than I thought to check up on an investment.” A servant appears from the adjoining kitchen, and Mr. Chaffee waves his hand, a subtle motion, and yet the worker immediately leaves the room. I’m assuming she’ll be back in a few moments with dinner, and I’m right.

“So, I was just telling Victoria how important it is to stay focused on schoolwork and not get distracted with emotions between now and college.” She turns her attention from me back to him. “Young love is fickle, isn’t it, darling?”

Mr. Chaffee nods again. Is he planning on actually talking to me or staying quiet through the entire meal?

A maid enters carrying another silver tray, bigger this time. She sets the tray down on a buffet table and brings each plate one by one, starting with Mrs. Chaffee, then me, and then Mr. Chaffee.

The girl looks like someone from my old neighborhood, although I’m sure I’ve never seen her before. Odd, I think, what a thin line separates us from sitting in this chair or being the one to carry the tray. I’m distracted by her small ankle tattoo and almost miss the fact that Eleanor is speaking to me.

“I’m sorry, can you ask that again?” I heard her the first time, but I’m not thrilled with the question.

“Have you met anyone…special?”