Marny (8 page)

June 22

M
arny’s alarm, a cheerful blend of birdsong and gurgling water,
rang way too early. She hit the snooze button, her brain struggling
up from smoky dreams filled with vague disquiet. Probably trying to
adjust to the fact that she’d never been this far from home, and
anxiety about the internship.

Normally, she was not a worried kind of girl.
Whatever came up, she dealt with it, and stressing beforehand
wasn’t useful. But as she sat up and pushed her hair out of her
eyes, she had to admit she felt a touch afraid.

What if she couldn’t meet Intertech’s
expectations?

Oh, stop
it
, the smarter part of her said.
You wouldn’t be here if they didn’t think you
were worth it. Now get up.

She sounded like her own mom. Half smiling,
Marny pushed the soft covers aside and stood. The large bed was
very comfortable. It was nice to have enough space to stretch out
without bumping into the wall or stubbing her toe.

She’d outgrown her single years ago, but the
bedroom she shared with Grandma Harmony didn’t have room for a
double bed. It could barely handle the two singles squeezed in on
either side of the little room. Sometimes, when it was clear
there’d be a few months between her grandma’s stays, Marny pushed
the beds together and stuffed a blanket in the crack between the
mattresses. It was better, but nothing like a real double.

Everyone in her family was big. That was just
part of her Samoan heritage. But so was helping out family. So
whenever Grandma Harmony came back, Marny pulled the beds apart
without a complaint.

She heard stirring in the room next door, and
quickly pulled on her T-shirt and jeans and hurried into the hall.
If Anjah got to the bathroom first, Marny had the feeling she’d
monopolize it until they had to leave.

Marny brushed her teeth, swiped a comb
through her hair, and was leaving the bathroom as Anjah came out of
her room. She wore a set of silky pajamas that wouldn’t look out of
place at a fancy dinner party.

“Are you planning to shower?” Anjah asked,
her eyes still half closed.

“Not this morning.”

“Okay. Good.” Anjah yawned and bumped into
the bathroom door. “I’ll be out in a half-hour. Maybe longer.”

“I’m done in there,” Marny said.

Anjah blinked. “Really? What about your
makeup?”

“I rely on my natural beauty,” Marny said
dryly. It wasn’t entirely true, but a swipe of lip gloss and a dab
of eyeliner certainly wouldn’t count as makeup in Anjah’s
world.

“You could be attractive, with a little
enhancement. We’ll talk about that, later.” Anjah yawned again.
“God, I hope Wil makes some coffee.”

“I don’t think he’s up yet.” Marny let the
“could be attractive” comment pass. Whatever.

“Maybe you’ll make the coffee?” Anjah peered
at her hopefully.

“I’m more of a tea drinker,” Marny said.
“Enjoy your shower.”

She had no interest in becoming Anjah’s
personal chef. Or in submitting to a makeover, no doubt complete
with catty comments about all her physical shortcomings.
Tallcomings, heh.

Back in her room, Marny donned the new
clothes she’d bought yesterday from the store Brenna had taken her
to. The dark pants and tailored burgundy top were adequate
corporate work clothes, but she hoped her duffel would show up
soon. The clothes Jennet had helped her pick out had a little more
character, and besides, they’d remind her of home. Make her feel
that she hadn’t been completely assimilated as an Intertech
worker-drone.

She went to the mirrored closet door and
tried to see herself as a stranger might. The clothes made her look
adult. And was she almost attractive? She leaned forward, trying to
determine what about her wide cheeks, dark eyes, and broad nose was
particularly appealing.

Years ago, she’d given up on being
beautiful—at least the kind of beautiful found on the vids and
netscreens. As far as she knew, there hadn’t yet been a Samoan
supermodel. And that was actually fine. She was proud of her
strength, and her family. Proud of the particular collection of
features that made her Marny Fanalua.

Whatever Anjah was talking about, Marny
didn’t see it. Then again, the girl was a bit obsessed about
appearance, not to mention half-asleep. It was obvious Anjah wasn’t
a morning person.

Neither was Wil, judging from the snores
emanating from his room as Marny walked past. She paused, wondering
if she should knock on his door, when a shockingly loud alarm
jangled from inside. He mumbled and she heard him smack something.
The noise abruptly cut off.

Right, then. If she ever overslept, his alarm
would definitely rouse her. Good to know.

She shook her head and continued to the
kitchen. Far better, in her opinion, to wake to the soothing
waterfall-and-birdsong melody programmed into her tablet.

She flicked on the electric kettle, then
rummaged in the cupboards until she found the mugs. They were all
too small, and standard boring white. She mentally added a big,
colorful tea mug to the list of things she needed.

On her way past the dining hall the night
before, she’d grabbed a few tea bags and sealed containers of
creamer. Soon, she’d get to the store—she really did prefer soy
milk—but for now, Intertech could keep her in tea. The Celtic
Breakfast in its bright green packaging looked promising.

The kettle dinged, and she poured boiling
water over her tea bag. Stainless steel and black, the appliance
matched the rest of the stylish kitchen. Dark granite countertops,
a stove that looked brand new, and cupboards made of some reddish
wood, stocked with dishes. And regrettably small mugs.

When her tea had brewed nice and strong, she
took her cup over to the window and watched the morning traffic zip
around the streets below. Almost half the cars were the bright
yellow grav-taxis—something she didn’t see much of in Crestview.
Either people drove themselves (or had chauffeurs, in the case of
the rich kids), or took the bus.

“Yo.” Wil shuffled into the kitchen, wearing
sweat pants and a T-shirt with holes in it. His hair stuck up on
one side like a fan.

“Morning,” she said, turning to greet
him.

Lucky Anjah; it looked like he was, indeed,
making coffee.

Most of Marny’s family loved the beverage.
Her uncle even owned a simcafé, but Marny had never developed a
taste for coffee. Too bitter.

Though she did enjoy the smell as Wil ground
the coffee. It reminded her of home.

He rubbed his eyes and leaned back against
the counter beside the gurgling coffee machine.

“I hear they set out a tray of bagels and
pastries in the dining hall,” he said. “For people who just want to
grab something and go during their breaks. In case you were
wondering about breakfast.”

“Sounds good.”

She usually wasn’t too hungry in the
mornings, but it wouldn’t hurt to have a little bite. Although this
morning, her stomach was so tight with nerves she was particularly
uninterested in eating.

Calm down. Sheesh. You’ll be fine.

Whatever the day held, she’d handle it. If
she could battle crazed smoke-drifters and wicked goblins, babysit
a changeling, and fight off faerie glamour, she could face her
first morning at Intertech.

Before the coffee was done, Wil grabbed a mug
and poured himself a cup, letting the still-brewing coffee splash
down and scorch on the burner. Marny wrinkled her nose at the acrid
smell, but she didn’t say anything as Wil dashed back to his room.
She could hear Anjah singing in the bathroom.

For a second she missed her sisters and
parents with a deep stab of homesickness.

But at home there was no view of a waking
city outside her windows. No way to prove herself against a larger
world. Crestview was where she’d grown up, but it was constricting,
like an old sweater that had shrunk in the dryer until she could
barely get her head and arms through, let alone wear it
comfortably.

She wasn’t sure what kind of future would fit
her, but that was part of why she’d applied for the internship. Why
she was here in Newpoint.

“Coffee?” Anjah called plaintively, cracking
the bathroom door open an inch.

Wil didn’t respond, so after a moment Marny
did. “I’ll bring you a cup. Black?”

“Oh, thank you! Black, two sugars.”

Marny supposed it didn’t hurt to preserve
harmony with her roommates. She’d need a favor in return at some
point, and it didn’t take long to fix Anjah’s cup.

“Here you go.” Marny rapped on the bathroom
door.

Anjah cracked it again, and stuck out her
hand. Her nails were now peacock blue.

“A million thanks,” she said from behind the
door as she grabbed the mug.

“Welcome,” Marny said to the rapidly closing
door.

Oh, well. Some people really weren’t human
until after their morning coffee. Though she had the suspicion
Anjah had a selfish streak as wide as the Pacific.

Marny went back to the window, and her tea.
The last couple sips were cold, but she finished it anyway as
sunlight illuminated the side of a nearby skyscraper. Gray windows
turned to silver, flat metal sparkling as it caught the light, and
colors burst from wan to brilliant.

She liked being high enough to see the sky.
Mentally calculating that the window faced southwest, she figured
the apartment would get some nice afternoon sun.

Though whether she’d ever have free time in
the afternoon remained to be seen.

She glanced at the screen mounted on the
wall, currently displaying the time and weather. Brenna would be
there in five minutes to take them downstairs for their first day
of work.

Marny rinsed her cup in the kitchen, then
went back to her room. She grabbed her tablet and slipped on the
new pair of shoes, dressy but still relatively comfortable. Wil was
moving around in his bedroom, and Anjah was still in the
bathroom.

“You guys coming?” she called as she strode
down the hall toward the front door.

“Right here,” Wil said, stepping out of his
room.

Marny pursed her lips and nodded. “You clean
up nice.”

His wild hair was tamed back with gel,
showing off his strong features. Wearing slacks and a button-down
shirt, he didn’t look quite so gawky and uncoordinated. Not that
she was any more attracted to him, but it was an interesting
transformation.

“Glad you approve.” He winked at her. “You
look pretty sharp yourself.”

Anjah threw open the bathroom door and sailed
out on a cloud of steam and flowery perfume. Of course she was
dressed perfectly, in a blue-green ensemble that was like a sunlit
sea.

“Let me get my shoes,” she said. “And my
bag.”

She led the way to the entry, where she
deftly donned a pair of aquamarine high heels and plucked a
matching purse from the closet.

Somebody knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Wil said through the speaker
interface, and buzzed the door open.

It slid back to reveal Brenna standing in the
hallway.

“Good,” the liaison said, giving them each a
once-over. “After today, you guys need to get yourselves down to
the offices, but this morning there’s an introductory meeting to
attend.”

“Aye-aye,” Wil said, snapping a salute.

Brenna gave him a look. “This isn’t boot
camp. You all ready?”

“Yep,” Marny said. “Let’s go.”

“Wait a second.” Anjah set her hand on
Marny’s arm, pulled her to the hall mirror, and handed her a tube
of lip gloss. “Put this on.”

“I’m fine—”

“Humor me. Besides, you have beautiful
lips.”

“Hurry up,” Brenna said, folding her
arms.

It was quicker for Marny to slick some gloss
over her mouth than keep arguing with Anjah. Besides, she could
always wipe it off when Anjah wasn’t looking.

“Nice.” Anjah nodded. “Keep it—it’s not
really my color.”

Marny had to admit the subtle sheen did look
good on her, and not too obviously like she was wearing makeup.
Maybe she wouldn’t wipe it off, after all.

“Guys,” Wil called from the hall.

Moving alarmingly fast in her high heels,
Anjah hurried out the door. Marny was right behind her.

“Finally.” Brenna gave Marny a stern look.
“Do your primping a little earlier next time, okay?”

Marny just nodded. No use arguing.

They were silent as they rode the elevator
down ten floors. When the doors dinged open, Brenna led them down
yet another hallway and past several offices and official-looking
meeting rooms.

“This morning you’ll meet your supervisors
and get your assignments,” Brenna said. “If you have any questions
or concerns, make sure to speak up. And here we are.”

Marny looked through the glass window into
the conference room Brenna had indicated. It seemed full of people,
and her stomach tightened again.

“Sure looks busy in there,” Wil said, voicing
her own worry. “Do they really need nine people to run herd on
us?”

“Ten,” Anjah said. “You missed the guy in the
dark blue suit at the far end of the table.”

“Don’t argue, just come in.” Brenna swiped
her ID card at the door. It slid open and she strode inside,
heading for the four empty chairs at the close end of the
table.

“Fine, ten people,” Wil said to Anjah. “After
you, your majesty.”

Anjah sniffed as she swept past him, walking
gracefully into the room as if she really were royalty.

Which, for all Marny knew, she was.

“Ladies first.” Wil lifted his brows at
her.

Marny couldn’t quite manage the princess
walk, but she did her best to appear calm and unruffled as she
followed Anjah into the room. Brenna beckoned them to the chairs
beside her. Anjah promptly took the middle one. Marny pulled out
the chair on her right, glad to find it was nice and roomy, and Wil
settled on Anjah’s left.