He smiles as he passes his hand through his hair. Mike Chapman has the privilege of being able to do so. With me any such stunt would get your hand tangled in the multiple locks that spring out from my head. Don’t get me wrong; I wouldn’t trade my hair for the world. Mike’s hair, though, is like a bunch of brown silk all pulled back in a waterfall. It’s the closest thing to running your hand through a river.
His eyes roll up to the roof of the library. “Well, this is going great. I make you toss an aisle of books over, and then we sit here awkwardly.”
“You’re, like, describing my every friendship. I am routinely the cause of quiet discomfort. So, it’s really not a problem.”
Mike laughs, and I get an irritatingly warm sense of happiness about that. “Well, I’m thinking maybe we can do this more often. I mean, no pressure. Just if you want. Maybe we can get together for one of those movie nights they throw once in a while.”
“Oh. Right, that sounds great. I’ll try to scrounge up some chocolate bars.”
“Hah, I forget you’re a Quad. Down on Floor 8, we don’t get as many of those. But, hey, I can maybe trade for a soda or something. I’ve got a few green dollars that one kid I know collects. He’d probably trade for them.”
“This will literally be the most sugar I’ve ever had in a night.”
“Well, at least that’ll make it a night to remember, right?”
After that chat he didn’t treat me like a kid anymore. We weren’t necessarily adults… but we started actually having, you know, conversations.
It was nice. And I nearly had a sugar high off all that candy we ate.
I think what I was trying to say is that there aren’t a lot of people like Mike. He questions stuff. That’s why he loves scavenging so much, ’cause he gets to see what’s out there. I don’t, and won’t, no matter what I try to do. I’m a Quad, a Level 4 dweller. We don’t get to go out. So, yeah, you’ll excuse me if I’m worried about him, since he’s about the only person I can sit down with and talk to. I know he’s not going to answer any of my questions about what’s below Floor 21. You know what, though? At least he treats me like my questions are worth answering.
It means something when a person acknowledges you. And if something happens to him? Well, then, the only thing that’ll remember me when I’m old is this recorder.
Recording Eighteen
I woke up today to something I’ve never felt before. It was… weird. I’ve heard of these things, and you see them in the movies sometimes. Earthquakes, I think they’re called. Whatever, all I know is that I had to jump out of bed before the ground shook me out of it. Like, when I say shake, I mean the glass of water I had near my bed was jittering around like a dying bug. There were maybe two seconds to grab it before it went flying off the nightstand.
Don’t get me wrong. I caught it. Duh. I’m smooth like that.
Still, I was worried. Obviously. I tried asking Mom about it, but she was in one of those really manic happy moods where she’s just, I dunno, dead to the world. To be real I’m not even sure she felt the quake. So yeah. Pointless. I kinda felt like asking some of the other kids, but, you know, I was scared this was one of those things Security’d be real angry with if they found out we were talking about it. So I kept my trap shut.
Well, I did talk to someone about it today. Guess who.
Yeah, Allison. She comes by around two with that saucy walk she totally doesn’t mean to have but that she manages to rock anyway. That’s what happens when you’re, you know, confident. Anyway, she tosses herself onto my bed like she owns it. I guess you get to do that when you’ve been friends your whole lives.
She pops a piece of bubblegum as she leans back against the wall. “What up, Jackie O?”
“Where the hell did you get that?” I demand, staring at her like she’s murdered someone. “Seriously, did you thief it off of somebody?”
“What, this?” she asks with this despicably adorable grin before popping another bubble. “Nah, I got it from Tommy.”
“Tommy?” I swear only a supernatural force prevents me from giving her the stank eye. “So, you’re hanging with doucherton now?”
“He’s not such a bad guy. Besides, he told me you two made up.”
“Yeah, well… too early to tell.”
“C’mon, Jackie, you know he’s not so bad. I mean, he gave me gum.”
“You know why he gave you your gum, Allison, and it’s not because he wanted you to have some fresh flavor.” I stop a second, mulling that over. “Well, maybe he did, but that’s only because he wanted in on it.”
“Little harsh, don’t you think?”
“God, I don’t know anymore.” I look back toward the door of my room, which is closed but still doesn’t feel like a sufficient barrier between me and the outside world. “With the parents acting consistently nuts for the last few years and Mike’s trips down into the Deep Creep, I guess I could use a few more friends. But that doesn’t give you an excuse to start lip smacking Tommy before I verify he’s not just a skeez.”
“Oh my God, Jackie, would you lighten up? It’s bubblegum.”
“It’s sugar, Allison. It costs a lot. Maybe a movie. Maybe a CD. I don’t know, but it’s not cheap.” She huffs as she glances away. It’s fairly obvious my habitual tendency of overwhelming people with my objections is rearing its ugly head. “Allison. Sorry.”
She turns with a look of shock so impressive you’d think I’d told her I’d saved humanity. “What did you say?”
“I’m just saying that, you know, maybe you’re right. Maybe whatever Tommy is, he’s not what I remember. I mean, can he really be the same guy that made my life living hell when we were nine?”
“Hopefully not, geez.”
“Exactly.” I toss my hands up. “I’ve been trying to do some thinking, and it’s just got me wrapped up in my feels. I’m stuck on this question about why everyone acts differently than what I expect them to. Mom and Dad were supercool when I was young, and now I don’t even know who they are. Tommy used to be the biggest tool in the bag, and now he’s giving you bubblegum. I don’t know what’s going on.”
“People change, Jackie, that’s just, like, the way things are. You can’t get hung up on it.”
My glare at her is lined in frost and ice. “Easier to say when you can meet new people anytime you want.”
“You know you could, too, if you’d just stop harshing everyone for not being into the same things you are.”
“Like surviving being trapped in a tower when we have no idea why we’re here.”
Allison sucks wind and lets out a sigh. She hates these talks, but I’m glad she indulges them. Usually. “Jackie, I worry too. Seriously. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do. We’ve already had the discussion. You know I just don’t want to break any rules that could get me in trouble.”
“I mean, neither do I, but—”
Her eyes turn to knives. “Jackie. You don’t?”
“Just… I dunno. It can’t be wrong to be worried. Right?”
“Right. We’re different people, though.” Her voice drops, and I hate when she does that, because it’s all the proof I need that she really does get scared about getting caught by Security. “You’re a Quad, Jackie. You don’t think about it much, but you get, you know…”
She looks away like she’s ashamed to say it, and it’s like I can’t stop myself from demanding more. “No, Allison. What? What is it that I have?”
“You know… privileges. Your parents are assigned here because, well, they’re important. Security’s not as tight up as it is down where I live.”
I can’t help but fall back against the wall, my head hammering it as my eyes roll to the ceiling. “Yeah. Sorry, I… You’re right! You’re right. I don’t think about it that way.”