CHAPTER EIGHT #4
Della moved closer, choosing the chair directly beside me, and picked up my talking points packet.
‘Your mother and I realized we need the same thing: Freedom System sign-ups. They’ve slowed over the last year.
And, well, there’s no match for you as of today.
No matches even listed as processing. Within the approved vicinity for Pain Carriers, no one with your blood type is registered. ’
I went still, heat draining from my face.
I’d expected this process to be immediate – a few days at most. I thought about nearly doubling over at dinner with the Whits.
The relief of the hydromorphone afterward.
The unsettling thought that it hadn’t been enough.
I’d been lucky so far, but the AB Cup was next month.
Would it take that long to find a match?
How many times might I flare before then?
This could derail so much for me – crush my dreams, my escape from my family.
‘So if the world sees me with a hellflare …’
‘A handsome surfer in pain,’ Della said lightly. ‘I think we’re bound to get a sign-up or two.’
My phone buzzed. I glanced down at another text from Nova.
Everything with her was so new; I didn’t want to ruin it.
Jaiden and Pua were used to these communications blackouts – times when I couldn’t tell them things – though I usually found a way around it.
How would Nova react if I waited to tell her everything?
How would she react to me having the disease at all?
I needed a match. Not just because of Nova, but for everything.
‘I’ll do it,’ I said. ‘We can trigger the hellflare. But I need to cut the hydromorphone dose in half. I don’t want to need it.’
Della scoffed. ‘Everyone needs pain relief.’
‘I just – I want to make sure I’m being responsible about it. Don’t tell my family, though. They won’t go for it, and then you’ll have no hellflare for the interview.’
‘If you say so.’ Della smirked and returned her attention to the packet.
My notifications buzzed again.
Hot-Pink Seven-Speed
I don’t think I’ve mentioned it yet, but Skye has sickle cell
Hot-Pink Seven-Speed
I think she’s having an ouchie spell – a pain crisis – but doesn’t want to tell us. She’s resting now, but I had to rush her home from the market
Oh, wow. My chest tightened. I imagined how painful it must be, how relentless. I didn’t know what to say to that.
Castor
Is there anything I can do to help?
I cringed at my text. Of course the answer was no. My words felt useless the moment I sent them. Sickle cell wasn’t curable – barely even manageable for some.
Hot-Pink Seven-Speed
I don’t think I’ve ever hated a non-living thing so much. Having to watch Skye endure the pain it inflicts – if sickle cell were a person, I’d wish it never finds a parking space, never finds the cool side of a pillow, and that its shoelaces are forever knotted
I thought I understood her hurt. But I couldn’t; I had a way to solve my pain. Even now, I had access to the best medicine, an outpatient nurse, hydromorphone.
Castor
I get it
No. That was a lie. I was sitting here worried about surfing, and how long until I could be rid of this.
It wasn’t fair. I frowned, staring at my phone as my thoughts clicked together.
I had the chance to be a Pain Giver. If Skye had helical disease instead of sickle cell, would that change things for her?
Castor
Hey, random question …
I hesitated. What was it I wanted to ask Nova?
Being part of this family meant living with the hate that came with it.
I wasn’t oblivious to it. Grandfather had built an empire around a system that benefited those who could afford it.
It sustained us. It also bred resentment toward Pain Givers because of the association with disproportionate wealth.
That was why Grandfather worked so hard to launch these new drug trials – to bridge the gap between Pain Givers and natural carriers of helical disease who didn’t have the means to enter the Freedom System.
Castor
Do you feel the same about Pain Givers? Hate them, I mean. I know some people do, because they can skip the pain while others can’t
I knew she respected the hell out of Pain Carriers.
I scrolled back up to the photos of her mural she’d sent last night.
I loved the idea of giving Pain Carriers their flowers while they could still smell them.
I’d told her about the exhibit for Lucille B.
Anarcha in Dominion’s lobby. I was beyond fascinated by her resilience and strength.
Nova felt the same about her community, and so many of them carried the pain of others.
I also knew she felt we came from two separate worlds.
Me becoming a Pain Giver would only solidify that.
I had access to something Skye never would.
A few more minutes passed, and I felt like a jerk. I’d made the conversation about me.
Castor
I’m sorry. I took the conversation away from Skye
‘Agh!’ I yelped, dropping my phone. Blue light crackled up my arm.
Della stood, startled. ‘I – I’ll go get your nurse.’
She rushed out the room while I doubled over in pain. Tears welled in my eyes, blurring my vision, but not enough. I watched the three dots bubble up from Nova, then disappear with no response.