“Hello, Cassandra,” Maxine said with a sigh. “Galen went to the Center…then he’s an assistant cook in the Sky Room today. He’s not here, if that’s who you’re looking for.”
The girl named Cassandra ignored Maxine’s exasperated expression and clear dismissal. Unlike anyone Lucy had ever met before, the girl disregarded Maxine’s outstretched arm across the threshold and slithered her way into the King family residence.
“No, no,” the girl said and she walked straight up to Lucy. “I came to see her.”
Maxine’s shoulders slumped, and she looked back out into the now-empty hallway, and then shut the door. “Come in, of course,” she said to the closed door before turning around.
Lucy was able to get a good look at the girl without moving. Her sleek black hair was parted down the middle and braided into two long plaits; large golden hoops dangled from her ears, and pale pink lipstick glistened on her lips. Despite all the surrounding factors of their living situation, the girl—Cassandra—was stylish in a red shirt-dress and a yellow belt. She spoke with a slight accent, although Lucy couldn’t place it. She had to be close to Lucy’s age, although even age seemed relative in the System. Her dark skin was flawless and smooth.
But it was her eyes that caused Lucy pause. One eye was the color of night and it was so dark that even the pupil blended into the iris: just a dark black circle. Her other eye was a kaleidoscope of color: one half started off as brown, but toyed with turning green or gold, before settling on a sky blue. The effect was so arresting that Lucy couldn’t stop staring.
“So. We meet. The girl who arrived late to the party,” the girl said, looking down on Lucy’s rolled up body. “Come on. Get up. Let’s go.”
Lucy shifted into a sitting position and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Go where?”
“Around. Don’t you want to?”
“Not really,” Lucy answered to the stranger. “I don’t know you.” She stole a look to her mother who stood back, but appraised the situation with a look of annoyance rather than relief. It was written all over her face: Don’t come in here and achieve what I could not. Lucy looked between her mother and the new girl and back again.
Cassandra raised her eyebrows and smirked. “Of course not. That’s why you should come. You won’t ever meet anyone like this. Consider me your welcoming committee.”
With one final look to her mom, Lucy nodded. “Sure,” she agreed out of spite and rose to her feet. Tucking Grant’s letter into the waistband of her pants, she looked over at her mother again for permission—with raised eyebrows and an expectant silence—and after a long stare, Maxine motioned for the door.
“When will you be back?” her mother asked crossing her arms.
Cassandra shrugged. “By curfew?” she suggested, but Maxine laughed at her reply. The girl didn’t cower. “Fine, fine, Mrs. King. Let’s say by dinner. Lucy has a lot to see.”
With visible frustration, Maxine relented. Turning away and placing her palms flat on the apartment’s small kitchen table. She bent over, as if in prayer, and didn’t say anything else as Cassandra and Lucy exited the apartment and walked out into the sterile hallway. The elation Lucy felt at winning against her mother’s will was quickly replaced by confusion and apprehension—did she really want to follow this girl blindly throughout the System?
After the door was shut and they had meandered a few feet away, the girl flipped her long braids over her shoulders and smiled. “Parents in this place have become so predictable. They want you to buy in to the same lie they have. So much so that they’re eager to do things they never would have before. They’re permissive, to a point, and to a fault.”
“I’m not sure I’ve found that to be the case,” Lucy said, thinking only of Grant.
“Cass,” she said, sticking out her hand toward Lucy’s middle. Lucy grabbed her palm and gave it a small pump. “Your next door neighbor.”
“Lucy. King.”
“I know. The Head Technician’s daughter.”
“So, how did you end up down here?”
Cass smiled. “Your dad orchestrated the reason we’re here. My dad is the man behind the place.”
“Oh yeah?” Lucy asked, her head still foggy and her mind still fixated on Grant and Grant alone.
“Yuppers,” she replied. “Claude Salvant. Architect and designer behind all the Systems. Overseer of Building for this one. So,” Cass flashed Lucy a wink, “keep your complaints to yourself.”
Joking or not, Lucy couldn’t even bring herself to smile. Cassandra seemed to notice her audience was struggling. They approached the door at the end and pushed their way through, then walked to the elevator and Cass called it to them by placing her palm on the device by the door. Once inside the elevator, Cass turned to Lucy and smiled.
“So, this place…for all its high-tech perks…has one downfall.” She leaned in conspiratorially toward Lucy’s ear. “Paper-thin walls.”
“Ah,” Lucy mumbled and she understood the implication. “Well, then I apologize for the meltdowns.”
“Seems like they were a bit warranted. But I never judge what happens in someone else’s family. Scout’s honor.” She placed her hand over her heart. “Look, Lucy. Here’s what’s going to happen. You with me? We’re going to stop by the Center. Make sure some people see us. We might disappear into one of the theater rooms, chat it up with the boys who hang around there. Then you and I are going to make a little secret journey,” Cass lowered her voice and leaned in. “Follow my lead and don’t ask any questions. And understand that I get annoyed when people can’t obey these simple instructions. Got it?”
The doors opened and Cass walked Lucy out into a hallway. Double doors five feet away were held open and Lucy could hear the din of voices and conversations, people laughing and carrying on like normal. Cass made a move to walk toward the room, but Lucy stalled.
“Wait. We just met. And you’re taking me on some kind of—” Lucy noticed Cass widened her eyes and shook her head once as a warning, so she stopped mid-sentence and crossed her arms over her chest. She was forever going to be the odd one out down here. “Why are you doing this? You don’t owe me anything.”
Cass smiled as if she had expected Lucy to ask her this. “I already told you, ma cheri. Les murs parlent. Anything you’ve said above a whisper,” she tapped her right ear with her pointer finger a couple times and then giggled. “I already know enough. I know you needed out of that shitty…with apologies to my dear Papa…apartment. Now, are you ready for an adventure?”
If Lucy had ever admired Salem’s clumsy flirting, it was only because she had not been introduced to the fine art of pure, unadulterated charm. Twenty-year-old Cassandra Lourdes Marie Salvant oozed charisma at every turn—her two-toned eyes were sharp and clear as she meandered around the Center, flitting in and around different groups of people, touching them gently on the arm as she went—documenting her presence with a smile or a nod, and sometimes with a one-liner or compliment too. People’s heads followed her as she roamed. Everyone knew her, deferred to her, welcomed her with smiles, hugs, and genuine excitement.
Lucy shuffled behind, her heels still sticking out of the back of her shoes, her arms crossed over the shirt she had worn for two days straight. She had never been so viscerally aware of her own deficits. For a while she was embarrassed that Cass had to be seen with her, but soon she realized that no one seemed to notice her—eyes and attention went to the dark beauty first, following her path visibly as if she left behind an actual trail of pheromone.
The Center was a recreation hall—roughly the size of Lucy’s old high school gym back at Pacific Lake. It was set up with air hockey tables, darts, and a snack shack. For the younger set, there was an indoor playground. Monitored by a larger woman with a whistle, the kids slid down slides and crawled through tunnels, climbed up ropes, and played organized games of capture the flag or tag.