CHAPTER THIRTEEN #2
‘Why have you been avoiding my calls? I need to talk to you before –’ She froze, and I felt the warm sting bloom at my neck and fingertips. ‘You did it. You signed up.’
‘I had to. You heard the collectors.’
She hugged me tight, and for a second I thought maybe she knew. Maybe she understood what I was feeling. ‘Come on. Let’s grab something and sit down,’ she said. ‘We need to catch up.’
We both settled on California salad wraps and lime-twist lemonades. As I scanned my meal card app, it felt good – strange but good – to have enough and no longer be embarrassed by a negative balance.
I noticed the Pain Carrier scar on the cashier’s left wrist but couldn’t bring myself to say anything.
What was there to say? Hold up my own wrist and be like, me too?
Or maybe quietly ask whether they’d discovered their tolerance wasn’t as high as their doctor had led them to believe. I didn’t get the chance to do either.
‘I shouldn’t have lied,’ Estelle said as she led us to the seats farthest from the windows. ‘If I’d told the truth, you would’ve never done this.’
‘Wait.’ I slid in across from her. I glanced back at the cashier, then leaned closer and lowered my voice. ‘Your hellflares …’ I was so close to getting the words out. ‘Do they hurt?’
She raised a finger to her lips. ‘Like a bitch,’ she grumbled.
My eyes widened. I’d spent the last week trying to figure out how Dr Orion could’ve been wrong. Had my screening come back with a false positive for high pain tolerance? Was I the only one? I’m not the only one.
‘It’s constant pain, Nova,’ Estelle said.
‘It’s why I’m always cancelling last minute, or ghosting randomly.
I’m in a trial for a new medication called oxin, but I’m almost positive I’m on the placebo track.
Nervxs dulls it to an ache, but it’s not enough.
I’ve heard there are pharmacists in MidCity you can pay extra for the little yellow pills – perceta – but that’s basically paying to become an addict.
Not to mention illegal! I’m happy to help my parents with their bills, but I wish I’d never done this. ’
She knew this would hurt. A million questions flew through my mind, joined by a million emotions. Hurt, anger, betrayal. She knew. She knew. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I don’t know,’ she exhaled. ‘Dominion makes us sign a million NDAs. We aren’t supposed to share our experiences. The fines, the possible jail time? It’s not worth it.’
‘Yeah, but it’s me. I’m not going to turn you in –’
‘I didn’t want you to see me as a failure,’ she blurted.
‘That’s why I didn’t tell you. Yeah, the NDA language is scary as shit, but I also felt like something was wrong with me.
Any whisper of a false-positive pain tolerance screening – or anyone feeling anything – disappears within seconds of the rumor starting.
You know Dwayne, right? He went to a protest the other week with a sign that said I FEEL YOUR PAIN, and now he’s disappeared. ’
‘Wait – Dwayne? The one who’s been missing class? Who’s supposedly on vacation?’
‘I tried asking his roommates about him,’ Estelle said.
‘Everyone claims he’s fine. They say the poster was a joke and that he’s just visiting a cousin out of town.
’ She shrugged. ‘I thought my pain was my fault. That I messed something up. Maybe I lied during the screening and blocked out what I was feeling. I don’t know.
But I couldn’t tell you. You were so in awe of me. ’
I reached across the table and took her hand. Our experiences were the same.
‘Estelle –’ I stopped, thinking about what she’d said about Dwayne. ‘Are there others? Can other Carriers feel their pain?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t think so.’ She squeezed my hand. ‘Knowing how horrible mine is, I doubt there are others walking around in this much pain.’
But she was walking around in this much pain. I glanced at the cashier, smiling through a hellflare. Maybe Estelle and I were just two false positives in a sea of millions who felt nothing.
‘Hey, Nova!’ Nari waved as she approached.
I almost didn’t recognize her outside the lab, her black hair loose instead of pulled into her usual ponytail.
She’d changed into a sundress patterned with daisy blooms and strappy wedge heels.
Her outfit screamed late summer. Meanwhile, Estelle and I were both giving the cold is coming.
I should’ve noticed it before – Estelle always wore long sleeves. Her legs were always covered too.
Nari motioned for us to make room, and we scooted over. ‘I forgot to tell you – Pain Carriers get ten per cent off. You should pick up some of the lasagna to go. It’s beyond delicious.’ She shimmied her shoulders. ‘I noticed your new glow upstairs. PC or natural?’
‘Umm, thanks?’ Hearing her call it my new glow was wild. ‘And PC, I guess.’
‘Of course, of course. My aunt came down with helical disease a while back but gave it up so she could focus on opening her yoga retreat. But those two days of carrying it made her very self-aware. She’s going to offer discounts for Pain Carriers – her own way of giving back, even as a small business owner.
I can text you both the coupon code, if you’d like. ’
Estelle side-eyed me, and I knew we were thinking the same thing. I’d give anything to have helical disease for only two days.
‘That won’t be necessary, Nari,’ I said. ‘We aren’t the yoga types. But thank you.’
Nari’s smile tightened. ‘No need to be aggressive.’ She excused herself and left.
‘How is being anti-yoga aggressive?’ Estelle asked once Nari was out of earshot. ‘Well, I guess the opposite of yoga could be aggression, but that’s not what you meant.’
I shrugged and sipped my drink. ‘I don’t think she expected us to say no. It probably threw her off.’
‘We don’t need her aunt’s discount. We aren’t desperate.’
I considered her words, a pinch of pain tingling in my jaw.
‘Try seeing it from her point of view,’ I said quietly, on the edge of voicing the one thing I’d been pushing away ever since I reached out to Dr Orion – the one thing I worried Cas, and others, would think of me. ‘Why else would we sign up for this?’