Chapter 13
No Escape
I rush to the Commonique, grabbing my stomach.
“From the Observation Test?” a nurse says upon my entrance. How does she know?
“Yes, please help!” My eyes widen, staring at her dearly.
“That’s Brik’s jurisdiction. You’ll have to wait till he approves you getting treatment. We’ll send in another order asking him.”
They already sent an order before I came here and he said no? What on earth. I try to breathe. “I’m bleeding. Please!”
“Don’t worry. They’ll get to you. Just hang in there,” the nurse says.
Eyes surging to the right, I notice Ciaro in the corner staring at me as the nurse checks her temperature and leaves.
“Don’t stay here. They won’t help you.” Her voice lowers. “When Patrons don’t give approvals, they never do.” She leaves.
Crap! I have to help myself. Darkness precedes my entrance as I walk inside a room with the colors of a dark cloud.
I open my eyes. Crap. I’m seeing things that don’t exist. Was there something in the water?
Rushing to my dorm, I find a bandage in The Common aid box in our bed stations.
I hear footsteps outside. Gosh, my clothes are drenched!
I don’t want anyone to see me like this.
They’ll give me a demerit for not being in dress code, and this will only make things worse for me.
Commons Binder Rule 44… Uniforms must be kept dry and free from stains at all times...
My stomach clenches. I hear slow, nearly silent steps, and I draw backwards.
I hide in the corner just as Beatrice walks by.
As soon as she leaves, I grab a new uniform.
I change out of my wet pants and soaked shirt.
I replace it with the skirt combo, layering the golden sweater on top to keep me warm and to hide the bruise.
After putting on my pair of long socks, I proceed to straighten my hair, again, so that I don’t put a target on my back.
But my stomach is killing me. I rush back to Commonique, but there’s no word from Patron Brik.
Great. I think I’m just going to go to the library and try to give them some time to approve the treatment.
I can’t afford to waste time. I mean it’s not like I’m dying.
It’ll take a couple of hours before my body shuts down if this wound is really that bad.
I can take the pain of a wound, but not the pain of losing Levon.
On my way out, through the dark hallways, strong hands flip me to a hidden corner. Oh my world, it is Pesh. He approaches me. But he does not seem happy. Do I tell him? I draw back.
He speaks, walking toward me. “Put your hands up.”
Now? What for? I put my hands up immediately as he draws closer, my heart pounding out of my chest, wondering what he’s going to do. His fingers slide up my skin, pulling up my sweater. Then, when it’s at the edge of my bust, he hooks and pins the sweater to my bra somehow.
“O Test?”
I nod, staring at him, my skin exposed, nervous of him seeing me like this. His hand grips my waist tightly as though to support me. Instantly, he rips the bandage off. Strangely, that didn’t hurt.
I look at him, and he seems intricately focused, eyes aflame. I keep my hands raised, but I feel my bra sliding up, exposing the bruise more. Unconsciously, my hands slide down.
Suddenly, his hands cuff my wrist, moving my hands back against the wall. “Stay still.”
“I’m still,” I whisper. I try not to move, but my chest is rising, causing my body to cave in and out toward him.
His breath lingers on my lips as though examining me. His presence is unnerving.
He flicks what looks like gold dust on my wound with his fingers. But I don’t feel anything.
His eyes merge with mine as he pulls my sweater down. “You can put your hands down now.”
I guess I should thank him. “Um, thanks!”
He stares at me as though annoyed. I look away. Why is he annoyed? What did I do? He eyes me, then leaves, saying nothing.
I rush to the restroom. Then I look to see that whatever he flicked on my wound is healing it. It feels so much better. Dang. I fold my lips in a smile. He helped me.
Entering the O Library, my hands reach for my last book. Sitting on a white sofa in the corner, I begin to read. Trying not to be lost in a ripple of thoughts, I take a deep breath to refocus myself.
Reminding myself to stick to my study system, I start stacking information into my brain. I simply have to make it out of The Commons without being more physically hurt or killed.
Six hours later… I walk up to the tanned-faced librarian with long red hair and oversized glasses. “Hi, I’m ready for the 10 by 10.”
“You want to take the 10 by 10?” She looks at me with narrow eyes.
“Yes, ma’am. My check out records show I’ve been reading a book of a million words a day and now I’m ready.”
“Indeed it does. And why are you wanting to take this test again?”
“Just to learn all I can about what it takes to be common and succeed.”
“Mm, right! Well, I will warn you, this test is very hard. It’s not life threatening like the freshmen introductory courses, but it is extremely detailed.
There will be 100 questions for every book.
So, 100 x 10 = 1000 total questions. You will have 10 minutes to complete them all, so a minute to answer every 100. You think you can do that?”
I gulp and swallow my spit, then give her a brave smile. “Yes, ma’am!” I have less than one second to answer each question. Of course they’ve made an impossible test.
“Okay, here you go.” She hands me the question papers and digital scantron, then directs me to sit at an assigned red chair, next to the welcome desk.
You’ve trained to be perfect all your life.
You were the valedictorian.
You’ve figured out deadly tests at The Commons.
You can pass the 10 by 10!
Yes, you can! Yes, you will!
I begin.
Ten minutes start to sprint past like ten seconds. Drops of sweat fall down my face. Rubbing my hands, I feel heat. I realize the chair I’m sitting on must have been altered. But. I can’t move. I’ll be disqualified.
Short of breath, I set my thoughts to the cold nights of New York, imagining my pencil to be ice, and the library, a freezing ocean.
Sifting through stacks of paper paintings and snapshots of pictures in my mind, I continue to vomit chunks of information.
My throat feels stuck, so I stick my fingers inside the tongue of my thoughts to cough up everything inside me.
Coursing through my insides, I smack the stomach of my brain to burst out every drop of knowledge.
“Time’s up.”
My hands crash to the table before she can complete her sentence. Rubbing the back of my neck, my eyes follow the digital scantron as she takes it away.
My life is dependent upon these test results. Levon’s life is dependent upon these test results. No big deal.
Rubbing my hands against my forehead, my mind feels empty, like I can stick my hands through it to feel nothing. Trickles of triumph sweep through my thoughts and imagination. This could be it!
My feet feel so light. My heart can’t help but leap knowing that I released the ocean of information that I had poured into me for weeks. The evaporation of this release is now only but a faint memory fading into mist, sweetening my taste and moving my lips up in a subtle smile of satisfaction.
This test has taken everything from me. And in this moment, nothing feels better.
My legs leap up along with my heart, feet rushing to hide behind the back shelves, eyes scanning for a hidden spot.
I can’t afford to reveal my emotions to anyone.
Even just glimpses of satisfaction could serve to my detriment.
Moreover, one more minute in that chair might have given me a heat stroke.
I find another chair, a blue iceberg-shaped one beside a green shelf of nature-like books.
I adjust myself on the seat to get comfortable.
That’s when I feel something on the side of my skirt.
I slide my hands inside my pocket and look to see a note.
Puzzled, I look around to see if anyone is around.
I bend my head to feign sleep, hiding the note and opening it simultaneously.
Meet me at the back of the O Library at our spot, Friday evening – P.
My heart rate escalates. Dang, why does he have this effect on me?
This is really dangerous. He must have slipped the note into my pocket when he healed my wound just now.
How did I not notice him touching me so close?
Folding the note immediately, I put it back into my pocket.
My mind races with too many thoughts. I wonder what this meeting is for?
Standing up, I walk toward the back of the library, pushing my feet forward against my beating heart, knowing I am completely unprepared for his alluring demeanor.
I hear the winds in the trees and the rustling of the leaves.
Crunch… Crunch… my feet step on the fallen leaves as I walk toward the green wall where I met him before.
I exhale, placing my hands on my chest to control its rising. I’m not sure which Pesh is going to show up today—the one who tells me about his late mother or the one who gives me a demerit and tells me to depart before he blinks. Gosh, why do I overthink everything.
The cold breeze surrounds me, but my hands are still warm. I look to the right at the sound of feet walking. I sense his figure close on my left. Vapors of his breath overwhelm my senses as his finger scrolls up from my neck to the edge of my ear. My body tingles in a sudden rush.
“How’s your wound?”
“What wound?” I smile, considering whatever he did has made it all disappear now.
A rapscallion smile flashes in his eyes.
He wears a tailored black coat over a crisp white shirt, the collar slightly open just enough to soften the formality.
A thin golden necklace rests against his toned chest, drawing my gaze to the entrancing lines of his throat.
I gulp at the allure of his entire aura.