Gated (15 page)

We manage to finish our furniture order by the end of the week. It took five days of almost round-the-clock work, but today all fifteen pieces of furniture line the walls of the wood shop, freshly stained and waxed, gleaming under the fluorescent lights. My hands and nails are chestnut brown from all of the hours spent staining, and my back and shoulders feel permanently hiked up to my ears and sore, but thankfully, it’s over now.

The Community has gathered in the wood shop to celebrate. Several of the moms have brought in orange juice and still-warm muffins. We pass them around and wait for Pioneer to show up, to give the furniture order one final inspection before we load our biggest trailer for tomorrow’s supply run. My dad is standing by Will and his dad. They’re talking and laughing about something with their heads close together. My dad has one hand on Will’s shoulder.

Will lifts his eyes to mine and winks before giving his attention back to our dads. All three of them have basically lived in the wood shop the past week, and now they’re pale, dirty, and exhausted. They look proud of themselves and their work, though. I can see it in how they keep glancing over at the furniture. I feel the same rush of pride fill my own chest because I know that they’ve had the most to do with us reaching our goal. My dad and my Intended.

I can see more than one of my friends—Heather and Julie in particular—looking at Will with a sort of hunger in their eyes. They wish he’d been meant for them. I’m lucky that Pioneer chose him for me, that I didn’t end up with someone like Mark, Julie’s Intended, who is slow to finish any task he’s started. I may not love Will the way I’m supposed to yet, but I know that I won’t find anyone better in the Community to commit to.

Maybe if I could start looking at Will differently—hold on to the way I feel about what he’s done with the furniture—I could stop thinking about Cody and imagining different scenarios where we might run into each other when I’m in town. The truth is, even if we’re able to find each other again, we’ll only have a few minutes to talk at best. Minutes I won’t be able to spend alone with him, because my parents will be there too. He’s just a stranger, anyway. A stranger that causes seismic activity in my stomach every time I think about him, but still.

I refocus on Will and try to shake Cody out of my
head, erase the fullness of his lips and the soft crinkle of his eyes from my memory. My future is here with Will. He’s smart and dedicated and kind … comfortable—like a warm bath. Seismic stomach activity is probably highly overrated. Who can live with that kind of upset all the time? Maybe comfortable is enough to build on. Will’s my best friend. Who better to marry than someone who already knows most of your faults and loves you anyway?

Will looks over at me with this half-amused look. My dad probably cracked one of his embarrassingly corny jokes just now. I flash him my biggest smile and his face lights up. It makes me feel that much happier that I’ve come to my senses—that our relationship is exactly as it’s meant to be. Tomorrow when we go to town, I won’t look for Cody. I’ll help get the last of our supplies like I’m supposed to and then leave him and the rest of the world behind me.

Pioneer arrives a few moments later. He’s dressed in a pair of shorts, which is very unusual for him. He’s usually pretty modest and prefers jeans. His legs are thin and pale, further proof that they hardly ever see the light of day. I have to stifle a giggle, because somehow the shorts make him seem strange, new and out of place. I can’t stop staring at the thick layer of hair on each leg. It makes him look like a severely starved bear. Marie shoots me a look from across the room, and we both have to cover our mouths to keep from laughing.

Pioneer’s even wearing a ball cap, a faded blue one with the words
MYRTLE BEACH
on it. I’ve never seen it before. It
makes me wonder what his life was like before he had his visions of the future and began preparing all of us for the end. I try to imagine what it would be like to walk that beach, imagine painting the waves, my toes buried in sand. I’ve only been to the ocean once. My parents took my sister and me, right before she disappeared, but I don’t remember it much. I just have this feeling that I was sunburned and itchy, but happy.

Pioneer runs his hand across the intricately carved side of a dresser. “Brothers and sisters, I realize that the last week has been trying … for all of us. I’ve asked a lot of you.” He pauses and beams at me and several others before his gaze settles on those who spent the most time in the wood shop. “But now I am happy to say that the hardest of our tasks before we enter the Silo is behind us.”

I look at my parents and Will. They’re all nodding at Pioneer. As physically draining as this past week has been, I doubt that finishing this furniture order is the hardest task we’ll complete in the next few weeks. For me, tucking myself underground for the next five years will be so much harder. I feel like the difficult part has barely just begun, but everyone else seems relieved by his words. Why am I not feeling that same sense of release?

“We are primed now to concentrate on preparing the Silo. The money we will make from these final pieces will more than cover the cost of our final supplies.” Pioneer smiles. “And now, in honor of all your hard work, I want you to take today off. No duties. No schedule. Enjoy this
unusually warm September weather with one another. We’re gonna have ourselves a proper cookout.”

Pioneer’s speech is met with some whoops and hollers from all of the kids and even from some of the grown-ups. I can’t remember when we’ve spent an entire afternoon doing something other than chores or lessons. Of course, a few of us will still haveills. to miss the fun because the guard booth can’t remain unoccupied, even for an hour or two. Mr. Whitcomb offers to take a shift, but then Pioneer volunteers himself for the first part of it so that Mr. Whitcomb can enjoy at least some of the cookout with the rest of us. No one could ever say that Pioneer is not self-sacrificing. He’s spent almost as much time at the wood shop as the rest of us, but he still doesn’t hesitate to make sure we’re all able to play and rest.

In less than half an hour, most of the Community has gathered at the pool. I can hear the yells and splashing as I make my way up the path to the pool gate. It’s the perfect day for sunning, the sky one long stretch of blue stamped with random mountains of clouds, so perfectly stiff and white that they almost look like pie meringue. I can already see Brian and Marie in the pool with the others. They’re playing chicken with Julie and Mark, and from the looks of it, Marie is the reigning champion. Her dark hair swings as she knocks Julie into the water with a high-pitched triumphant squeal. Will is waiting for me just inside the gate, his towel slung over his shoulders.

“Hey, beautiful, ready to cool off?” Will pulls me onto the pool deck and over to the water. “Think we can take Brian and Marie?”

“Absolutely.” I tug at the bottom of my swimsuit as we walk toward the pool. It’s exactly the same color and style as Marie’s and Julie’s, but theirs seem to fit more modestly on their frames. Marie is lean with just a hint of curves, and Julie is muscular and slim. I, on the other hand, am more of an explosion of curves—a big bang of breasts and butt. Will says that the guys prefer my body type over theirs, but I don’t. I want to curl around myself caterpillar-style, but I settle for an oversized shirt that I don’t take off, even as we wade into the water.

The sun is hot, but I kind of enjoy the way it burns the top of my head and back. I sink into the water slowly, my shirt bubbling up in front of me.

“Take it off, Lyla.” Marie rolls her eyes. “Seriously, if I had your bod, I’d be tempted to show up here naked.”

When she won’t let up, I take off the shirt. My fingers skim the thick scab across the back of my neck, a lingering reminder of our punishment in the corral. Marie, Will, and Brian have one too. It’s ugly and part of why I was wearing the shirt, but since they seem determined to ignore theirs—and everyone else got tired of staring at them days ago—it’s sort of silly to keep covering it up. I throw my shirt over onto the concrete.

“Climb on.” Will lowers his shoulders into the water and I clamber up onto them, careful to keep my legs from
touching the worst part of his scab. I worry that he’ll buckle under my weight, but he stands up right away and heads into the deeper water where Marie and Brian are. I squint at them. I can barely see them it’s so bright.

When we get close enough, Brian lunges forward and Marie leans so far over his head as she reaches for me that I’m not sure she’ll be able to stay on. Her hands make contact with my chest and she pushes. I grab a handful of Will’s hair—not easily done since it’s so short.

“Ow!” he hollers as Marie comes for me again. I get my hands up before she gets a good hold on me and push her back. Her arms flail out by her sides for a moment before she regains her balance. It makes her look a little like a bird for a minute, and I start giggling. Soon we’re both laughing hysterically and I can’t breathe.

“Show no mercy, Lyla,” Will shouts up at me as he grips my legs a little harder to keep me upright.

Marie laughs. “Oooh, my kneecaps are
terrified
.”

Will and Brian are snickering.

“You’re about as aggressive as a ladybug,” she says between giggles.

“Even less than that,” Will says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “A ladybug looks downright intimidating next to her.”

“The only time she can actually beat the snot out of someone is at cards,” Brian says loudly. “She’ll Uno you to death.” The others laugh so hard that they’re practically crying now.

“Who’s the last person you want to be assigned guard duty with if Armageddon hits early?”

“Lyla,” they say in unison. Half the pool heard that last one and now several other people are looking at me and smiling in that way that says that underneath it all, they aren’t completely joking.

And just like that, I’m sick of everyone thinking that I’m meek and mild. I’m sick of trying to be meek and mild. I’m sick of trying to be whatever everyone else
expects
me to be.
Who am I doing it for anyway?
Before I know it, I’m lunging toward Marie. My hands connect with her chest, and when I push, I really throw my weight into it. Her eyes widen but she holds on, which only makes me want to take her out more. I grab both of her hands and fold them in toward her chest before shoving her backward. She lets out a scream and topples off Brian’s shoulders and into the water.

Brian laughs out loud as Marie comes up sputtering, her hair blanketing her face.
“Go, Lyla,”
he says. “Impressive. Honestly didn’t think you had it in you. The ladybugs better watch out.
Little Owl’s
claws just came in.”

I stick my tongue out at him. I hate when any of my friends use Pioneer’s nickname for me. It doesn’t sound as nice coming from them.

Marie splashes water at me. She’s miffed, I can tell. In all the years we’ve been playing, I’ve never managed to topple her on purpose. Truthfully, I’ve never really tried. I let her win and she pretends to think that she actually
bested me. I think she prefers it that way, though she’d never say it out loud. I guess I never cared enough to do things differently—until now.

“Kind of rough, weren’t you, Amazon woman?” Marie pushes the hair out of her eyes and frowns at me.

“It’s the new me,” I say. I feel good—strong for once. For the first time, I realize that I don’t like to be underestimated. I climb off Will’s back and sink into the water up to my shoulders.

“Not bad, short stuff.” Will pulls lightly on a piece of my hair. His face is equal parts surprise and admiration.

I grin at all of them. “Wanna go again?”

We eat out by the pool at dinnertime—burgers, corn on the cob, and fresh tomatoes—my favorites. There’s even ice cream. I sit with Will, Brian, and Marie. We sprawl out on our beach towels, slightly burned and completely waterlogged.

Marie’s recovered from our chicken-fight upset, although she didn’t want to play anymore afterward. We spent lots of time sunba ofdth="thing and watching the guys play water volleyball instead. She’s happily helping herself to my last scoop of ice cream now. I tap the top of her hand with my spoon and she smiles before launching a glob of vanilla toward my face. I duck and it hits Will in the cheek and everyone cracks up.

After dinner, Pioneer hushes us and stands up to speak.
Behind him, Mr. Whitcomb and Mr. Brown set up the screen for movie night, since it’s Friday. We’re watching the movie outside tonight, which we do fairly often when the weather’s this nice. It hits me that we’ll only be able to do this a few more times. I try not to let it put a damper on things. I’ll miss this, all of it.

“Have you enjoyed today?” Pioneer asks. Everyone claps. A few people answer with shouted yeses.

“Good.” He nods seemingly to himself more than us. “Before we begin tonight’s movie, I just want to say a few words about tomorrow and our last supply run. I am positively overjoyed that it will be the last one, aren’t you?”

More yeses and claps echo out across the prairie, making it feel like our group is larger, louder.

“I hate sending any of us out there to rub shoulders with the Outsiders. The doomed. The misled. But we have to meet our needs, don’t we?”

Marie, Will, and Brian look at me, but I look over at my parents. It’s our turn to go, not that I needed reminding. If anything, I’ve struggled not to think about it all day—that and the possibility of running into Cody again. My chest constricts. I don’t want to see him now. Okay, maybe I
do
want to see him, but I don’t
want
to want it.

I shake Cody out of my head and stare at my mom. She’s listening raptly to Pioneer, her face pale in the dim pool lights. She looks terrified, but that doesn’t really surprise me. It’s par for the course for her when it’s our turn to travel to town. Ever since we moved here, she’s
seemed to get more and more content with staying inside our walls and never leaving. She practically goes hysterical just before we leave every single time. For her, not having to go anymore will be one of the best things about living underground.