For once, Becca’s mom was home when Becca woke up. Becca got ready for school as her mom hovered; she choked down the toast her mom made for her; she assured her that she was okay, of course she was okay. They left the apartment together, Becca’s forced smile growing more and more strained under her mom’s watchful eyes.
Becca stood at the front of the parking lot, where the bus would pick her up. She and Heather used to wait for the bus here together; now, with Heather gone, Becca was the only high-school student in the building who took the bus to school. Her mom passed her in her car, on her way to 117 to do to other dissidents what she had saved Becca from. Becca watched the car until it was out of sight. She waited an extra couple of minutes just to be safe. Then she started out of the parking lot, toward the playground.
She hadn’t been able to sneak away to see Jake yesterday after she got home; her mom had kept too close an eye on her. He and his dad had been waiting for three days now. Did they think she wasn’t coming back? Did they think it was only a matter of time now before Internal came for them?
The food she had left them had probably run out by now. She hadn’t been able to grab anything this morning, but she could come back with food later. Right now the most important thing was to let them know that she was alive, and that she hadn’t forgotten them.
The apartment building receded into the distance behind her. Somebody might have watched her leave, and wondered why she was going to the playground so often all of a sudden and why she was skipping school to do it. She glanced back at the building, squinting to see if she could spot any faces in the windows. She was too far away to tell, but she thought she might have seen one of the curtains move.
When she had warned Jake, she hadn’t thought about anything but keeping him safe from the immediate threat. She should have thought further, should have understood that the threat didn’t end there. Internal was looking for him, and eventually they would find him. She didn’t just need to bring food; she needed to warn him that he had to run. Leave town with his dad as soon as possible. They would still be in danger, but it would give them the best chance of survival.
She would never see him again. But he would be safe from Internal. Safer, at least.
She tried not to think about how alone she would be once he was gone.
She heard something. Footsteps? She spun around, but saw only the parking lot where she was supposed to be waiting for the bus.
It was probably for the best that she wasn’t going to school; everybody had to know about her arrest by now. And this time Jake wouldn’t be around to protect her.
And then there was Heather. How was she supposed to face Heather?
When Becca didn’t show up at school, would the Monitors report it? Would Internal assume she was guilty after all, and that she had run before they could discover their mistake?
She slowed down as she got closer to the playground. She looked behind her again. Still nobody there. Why did she feel like someone was watching her?
If anyone saw her, if anyone found out what she was doing, she would end up right back in 117 again, and this time her mom wouldn’t be able to save her.
She stopped.
Jake needs me.
What would have happened to her in 117 if her mom hadn’t come through that door?
I almost died in there.
She tried to force her legs forward. She had promised herself that no one else would die because of her. What if Jake and his dad died because she had abandoned them?
Her feet were glued to the pavement.
I almost died.
Anyone passing by would be able to see her standing by the side of the road like this. Anyone would be able to guess what she was doing. Helping a dissident. Dissident activity.
A car roared up behind her; her legs nearly buckled. The car sped past and disappeared into the distance. Not Enforcement after all. She gulped in a lungful of air. Her hands shook.
Jake was waiting for her. How long before Internal found him?
With one last look toward the playground, Becca turned and bolted back to the parking lot.
Coward.
Chapter Seventeen
Becca sleepwalked through her classes. She didn’t hear a single word her teachers said; she only heard the word that followed her through the halls the way it used to circle through her mind. Dissident.
Most people kept their distance. A few approached her, hanging back as if she might bite. They asked if it was true that Internal had arrested her, that she had helped a dissident escape from 117, that she had been seconds from execution before her mom had forced Internal to let her go. The threats hadn’t started yet, but it was only a matter of time.
As she entered the cafeteria, the roar of conversation quieted. All through the room, heads pointed in her direction. The word echoed off the walls like her footsteps had echoed through the underground levels. Dissident, dissident, dissident…
Becca backed up. She would spend lunch somewhere else. Anywhere else. She hadn’t brought anything to eat, but right now just the smell of the cafeteria’s stale pizza was more than her stomach could handle.
At the left-hand table near the door, where the political kids sat, somebody stood up. Becca took another step back; maybe if she left the cafeteria fast enough her would-be tormentor wouldn’t follow.
Wait. That was Heather.
One more reason to get out of there. Becca turned around and grabbed blindly for the door.
Heather reached her just as her fingers closed around the door handle. She threw her arms around Becca like a snake trying to strangle its prey. No… like the way her mom had held her in 117. This wasn’t an attack; it was a hug.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Heather whispered.
Becca pulled away. She held Heather at arm’s length, studied her face for signs that her mom had been telling the truth. Heather’s relief seemed real… but how could she tell? How could she tell about anyone anymore?
“Is it true? Did you turn me in?” She didn’t care who heard her ask. If people thought Heather had reported her, it would just make Heather look better, and Becca should want that, right? She had tried so hard to help Heather; why stop now?
“No! Why would you even think that?” Heather’s denial came a second too late; she looked away as she said it.
“You did. You turned me in.” She said it so softly she almost couldn’t hear herself. She didn’t want to hear herself say it. Didn’t want to face the truth.
“I didn’t do it,” said Heather, pleading now.
“Stop lying to me!” Now her voice was too loud, almost yelling. Nearby conversations quieted again as people listened. She tried to lower her voice. “Why can’t you just tell me the truth?”
“Just let me explain, okay? Please.” Heather grabbed Becca’s hand and tugged her toward the door. Becca let Heather lead her out into the hall. Even listening to Heather explain her betrayal sounded like a better prospect than staying in the cafeteria with all those hostile eyes on her.
Once the door had closed behind them, Heather let go of Becca’s hand. Becca thought about running as fast as she could down the empty hallway, maybe even out the front entrance and all the way home, and leaving Heather here alone with her explanation unspoken. But a part of her wanted to hear it, to know how Heather could have turned on her so thoroughly. She matched Heather’s pace as they wandered.
“I didn’t mean to do it,” said Heather quietly.
Becca didn’t look at Heather; she looked everywhere else so she wouldn’t have to. The lights seemed too bright, the halls too wide, after the dim narrow maze of the underground levels. “What did you do, call them by accident?”