Chapter 33 #2
I rushed to grab the receiver, practically having to push the still crying woman aside, then quickly dialed Trevor’s cell phone number.
It started ringing and I set the receiver down, literally crossing my fingers that he wasn’t in court.
If he was, I would at least be able to hear his voice and leave a message to let him know I was okay and I’d call back the following week, which was better than nothing, although not ideal.
I wanted to talk to him, to cry to him, to assure him I was okay and to have him tell me everything was going to be fine.
Thankfully, he picked up after the third ring. “Hello? Ara?”
He’d known it was me. Of course, he had.
Tears filled my eyes. “Trevor.”
“Oh, thank God,” he breathed out. “I’ve been dying to hear from you. Are you – ”
The soldier broke in. “This is Corporal Martin with the Department of Fertility. I need to inform you that your call is being monitored, and I have been instructed to end any conversation I feel is inappropriate and redirect any topic that is off limits. Do you both understand?”
“Yes,” Trevor and I said in unison.
“Good.” The corporal waved to the phone. “Proceed.”
After a beat of silence, Trevor asked, “Are you okay? Where are you? What’s going on?”
The soldier narrowed his eyes as he waited for my response.
“I can’t tell you where I am, but I’m okay. The place is nice, and I have everything I need.” I felt like I was reciting government propaganda. “We’re safe and taken care of.”
Trevor exhaled. “That’s good. I’m glad. Shit, Ara, I’ve been going crazy.”
“Me, too. But the good news is, I get to call every week at the same time, so make sure you’re available.”
“I will.” Again, he exhaled. “Am I allowed to talk to you about what’s going on here?”
I glanced at the soldier, who frowned and said, “News about what’s going on in the outside world is being left up to the discretion of Sergeant Collins. You will wait for him to fill you in. Find a new topic.”
I ground my teeth but obeyed, knowing there was no point in arguing.
For the next ten minutes, Trevor and I talked about mundane things.
He filled me in on how it was going with Owen, on how the people I knew were doing, and things like that.
There wasn’t much I could say since anything that had to do with my location or the program was off limits, which made for a pretty one-sided conversation, but I was so relieved to be able to talk to him that I couldn’t even care.
“Five minutes,” the soldier beside me said when the end of my allotted time drew near.
I glared at him despite the promise I’d made to myself to play it cool. I couldn’t help it. He was so unemotional, so cold. Didn’t he understand how much these conversations meant to us? How hard all this was?
“Tell Sophia hello and I miss her and that I’m okay.”
The soldier cleared his throat.
“What?” I snapped. “I’m not telling them where I am just that I’m all right.”
His eyebrows rose. “Careful.”
I huffed and rolled my eyes but chose to focus on my friend. “I’ll call you next week, okay? Same time.”
“I’ll be waiting to hear from you,” he said. “I love you, Ara. Don’t forget that.”
My throat tightened. “I love you, Trevor. Always.”
“Time’s up,” the soldier barked, then before I could say goodbye, ended the conversation.
I stepped back, more heartbroken than ever, and wiped the tears from my eyes. The soldier had already shifted his attention to the next person in line, a girl who didn’t look much older than eighteen, which was fine with me. I didn’t want to talk to him again, anyway.
I turned away from the desk, ready to head to my room so I could wallow in self-pity, but froze at the sight of Ramirez standing only a few feet away.
He was staring at me, a curious expression on his face and his eyebrows raised.
What he was thinking, I didn’t have a clue, but seeing him had me changing my mind about wanting to be alone.
As dangerous as it was to spend time with him, I really needed a distraction right now.
Tilting my head to indicate he should follow, I moved away from the stairs and deeper into the hotel.
After a few steps, I glanced over my shoulder to make sure Ramirez was behind me.
I had to bite back a smile when I spotted him only five feet back.
He winked, which made me flush like a teenager, and I looked away.
Yes, this was definitely a very bad idea.
We’d been outside the first time we talked, and no one had disturbed us, so I headed that way. Like before, someone was playing the piano when we reached the music room, but I barely registered the music as I made my way toward the same door I’d followed Marc through the other day.
The afternoon was cool and sunny, and the air clean and crisp.
I’d been so busy the last couple days trying to create a routine so I didn’t go crazy that I’d barely been outside, but now wondered why.
It was so pretty here, and being mid-September, the weather was nice, which wouldn’t last. We’d been told the winters here could be brutal.
The thud of footsteps pulled my attention from the mountains, and when I turned, Marc was heading my way.
“Fancy meeting you here,” he said, grinning.
I snorted out a laugh. “What century do you think this is?”
“I know what century it is. I’m just an old soul,” he replied with a smirk, then sobered after only a second. “So, you got to call home.”
“I did.” I exhaled and slumped against the porch railing. “Finally.”
“That’s good.” Marc looked past me, trying to feign nonchalance but not really pulling it off. “Who’d you call? A brother?”
Clearly, he’d overheard my conversation, had heard me tell Trevor I loved him, and was wondering who’d I’d been talking to. That he wanted to know had a sliver of satisfaction shooting through me.
“A friend,” I replied. “My best friend, actually.”
“Oh.” Marc licked his lips, then said, “Is he the only one you have back there? What about family? Someone else?”
“No.” I shrugged to let him know it didn’t matter. “I’m alone in the world except for Trevor.”
“Oh,” Marc said. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. My dad died during RNAB-55 and my mom in 2062 during the influenza outbreak, so it’s been that way for a while.” I paused then asked, “What about you?”
“My mom’s still hanging on,” he said, “but my dad died when I was a baby.” He copied my shrug. “That’s how most people are these days, though, right?”
“Pretty much.”
I crossed my arms when a cool breeze swept across the veranda, hugging myself as I stared at the mountains.
They were the most beautiful things I’d ever seen, which was understandable since I’d never traveled, but it didn’t stop me from missing home.
It was worse now that I’d spoken to Trevor.
I hadn’t expected that, but maybe I should have.
Marc cleared his throat. “We probably shouldn’t make a habit of this.”
I looked away from the mountains, my eyebrows raised, and even though he was right, said, “You’re the one who keeps staring at me.”
“I can look,” he said with a small grin. “It’s everything else that’s off limits.”
He said everything like he’d given what could happen between us a lot of thought.
“Seriously, though,” Marc said, sobering, “you could get in a lot of trouble.”
“Just me?” I asked, wondering if he’d be forgiven for fraternizing.
“I’d be disciplined, probably reassigned, but it would be worse for you because you’d be in breach of contract.”
“Of course it would.” My body slumped. “It’s always worse for women like me.”
Marc said nothing and the silence stretched out, adding to my already bad mood.
I’d thought talking to Trevor would help, but all it had done was remind me that nearly everything had been stolen from me, making me angrier than ever.
Then I’d come out here with Marc, hoping for a distraction, and found out that once again, I was being held to a different standard.
“Can you call people?” I blurted, wanting to know how far all this went.
“What?” Marc feigned ignorance, but I’d caught him off guard and it didn’t look real.
“Of course,” I said bitterly. “You guys are set up in some of the villas, right? You probably have WIFI and cable there, too. Probably even cell service.”
His cheeks flushed. “Not cell service.”
“But you have everything else.” I gave a bitter laugh. “I’m not surprised but that doesn’t mean I’m not pissed. We’re so cut off. So secluded. It’s like we’re criminals.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
I slumped against the wall. “It’s not your fault.”
Silence once again settled over us, but I broke it after a few seconds. “I guess I should go in. So I don’t in trouble, I mean.”
“I guess so,” he replied.
He offered me a regretful smile as he fished in his pocket, retrieving a pack of cigarettes. I’d never been a big smoker, only socially, but like everything else he could do that was off limits to me, I couldn’t help being jealous. I also knew I needed to get out of here before he started smoking.
“See you around, Marc,” I said.
“See you around, Ara,” he replied, then stuck a cigarette between his lips and lit it.
When this was over, I was going to take up smoking. At least for a little bit.
It was no surprise that our group counseling session was as much of a joke here as it had been back home, but that Hilary was leading it now made it doubly frustrating. Especially because she refused to even discuss Ginger’s absence.
“But where is she?” Malika insisted when Hilary brushed our questions aside.
We were gathered outside on one of the patio areas, since Hilary said the fresh air would do us good. It was bordered by trees whose limbs shaded us from the sun, and we had a perfect view of the mountains, which should have been relaxing because it was so breathtaking. It wasn’t, though.
“As I’ve said,” Hilary replied, “Ginger was moved to a different location. She’s safe, and where she is now is much better not just for her, but for everyone else as well.” Our minder pinned me with a serious look. “We don’t need that kind of negativity when things are already so hard.”
Bette, who sat beside me in a dinged up wooden chair, gnawed on her lip while Malika scowled. Ivy, who looked like she was trying to curl in on herself with as slumped as she was, said nothing. She didn’t even look up. She just stared at her hands and stayed silent.
“Anyway,” Hilary said, clearly wanting to change the subject. “Let’s talk about how the transition has been for you so far and what you can do to make it easier.”
Apparently, Hilary’s idea of a discussion was her talking at us while we sat in silence, because she droned on for the next hour with barely a pause between sentences.
Not that any of us cared. I had no interest in pretending and I was totally freaked out by Ginger’s disappearance.
I wasn’t stupid and neither was anyone else.
She’d gotten sent to one of the prison hospitals. But what had she done to get sent away?