The Ravaged World (Book 2 of the Exiles Series)

Sixteen: Talia

Fall was a whirlwind of Rebellion meetings and school. At the beginning of September, just as Mom went to work, we boarded a large yellow hovercar that brought us to our school everyday.

The school was a squat, bland looking building made of cement. A large courtyard surrounded it, the ground bare and dusty, unable to stand being trampled by feet all day long.

Nicole and I were separated from the other kids on the first day and evaluated on which grade and classes we were going to be in. We were taken into separate, windowless rooms, where a white-clad government worker evaluated our academic skills. It was eventually settled that we were both smart, apparently exceeding expectations, and were both placed in the ninth grade. Our schedules were near identical, so we saw each other often and ate lunch together at an empty table near the wall--nobody wanted to sit by the delinquents. However, the lack of people was sometimes useful, because we could talk about anything we wanted to without risking being overheard.

Every other Thursday after school, Nicole and I walked the mile or so from the school to the warehouse for the meetings. Less and less people were showing up. The common alibi was work, but I don't think that was always the case.

People were getting scared. Our city was no longer safe, in any sense. Ordinary, innocent citizens were being attacked in broad daylight. The government was catching onto us, and arrested people suspected of participating. Nicole and I never told anyone, including our mother, what is was we did after school--if anyone asked, we were studying, or meeting friends, or running errands.

Max rarely appeared at the meetings anymore. Instead, Fox took his place, explaining that he was away at college and that if he was gone a lot, people would get suspicious. He couldn't afford to get caught, or the whole operation was in danger.

Nicole kept to herself, but I could tell she was more than a little bit frustrated.

. . .

"So where exactly is it that you girls go after school?" Mom asked out of the blue at dinner one night. She set down her plastic fork and leaned back in her chair, expecting an answer.

"I told you, it's a study group," Nicole lied between a bite of stew. "All the kids from the island are required to go. It's, like, a catch-up sort of thing." Nic shrugged and resumed eating, as if it were no big deal.

Mom's gaze shifted to me. She swallowed her food with a swig of milk and asked me, "Talia, where do you go after school every other Thursday?"

Nicole looked irritated and slammed her cup down on the table. "Mom, we told you--"

Mom silenced Nicole with an angry look. "I asked Talia," she informed Nicole, her attention back on me.

I stared at the swirling white liquid in my cup and fidgeted in my seat. I knew I wasn't going to tell Mom what we were really doing, but it felt wrong to lie.

Both women stared at me, testing me, trying to coax the words in my brain out into the open. I averted my eyes from Nicole and stared instead at Mom, concentrating on her dark irises that swirled with green and brown, just like mine.

"It's...not a study group," I replied truthfully. Nicole turned away and shook her head so minimally that I doubted Mom noticed. "It's more of a, um, gathering with friends, so to speak."

Mom stared at me, her gaze unwavering, obviously not believing what I was saying. "You made some friends? That's nice." Her lips parted into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Can you tell me why they can't hang out here? Because if you want to hang out, every other Thursday, they're welcome to, as long as they're home before we have supper."