The Revealed (13 page)

My sleepiness goes right out with the breeze. April 13 is my birthday. The letter seems to make it clear that I won’t be reaching my birthday next year.

It’s all I can do to reach the bathroom before spilling the contents of my stomach in the toilet. As if tonight wasn’t already rough, I spend the remainder of it huddled with my back against the wall on the bathroom floor, the note clutched in my fist.

Daggers.

There are little daggers stabbing their way around the back of my eyes.

I try to blink away the pain but it stays with me. I groan as I reach for my clock. It’s still morning. I’ve never been one to sleep away the day, though today very well could have been the exception.

In my bathroom, I find two Advil and slam them back without a second thought before making my way to the kitchen.

My mother’s voice carries through the foyer before I see her and my dad in the dining room. I grip my head as the stabbing returns.

“Marg called this morning,” she says. “She’s backing Roderick.”

My father is still here, which is surprising. He answers, “Even after the gala? Did she say why?”

“No, no she didn’t say why,” my mother quips. “He probably offered her a cabinet position.”

“We offered her a cabinet position.”

“Secretary of Transportation. Everyone knows that’s the most-useless position, Mark. I told you.”

“She isn’t exactly qualified for much else.”

“She wants State. Her ties with foreign diplomats have strengthened since the war.”

“I already promised the position to Timothy.”

My mother sighs. “Who offers more support? You need a woman up there as well, Mark.”

I can see them talking from where I stand at the base of the stairs. The dining room is to the left while the kitchen is behind me.

“That’s why I have you dear,” my father kisses my mother lightly.

I try to slink past the stairs and make it to the kitchen for something covered in butter before they both eye me.

“Sit. Down.” It’s amazing how my father’s voice can go from affectionate to cold in only seconds.

I cringe. Judging by the tone, I know he’s talking to me. I shuffle into the room and fold myself into the nearest chair, which is three chairs down from my mother, the closest parent. Not a choice I make by accident.

Luckily, the Advil is kicking in and I’m already feeling the stabbing pain dull down, otherwise my father’s next words would have sank into my head like a cheese grater rubbing against my temples.

“Do you realize your mother and I have been up most of the night working to make sure all our bases were covered so we wouldn’t have another headline about you on our hands?” I’m sure he doesn’t want me to explain how I spent my night just about as much as I don’t want to hear about his. “We paid off the manager of the club, in case you were wondering, so he would sign a nondisclosure agreement.” Shame fills his voice.

“Sorry,” I grumble.

“I don’t know who you are anymore,” my father knocks his fist against the table. “What has gotten into you?”

“I’m growing up,” I tell him, gratefully accepting a cup of coffee from one of the serving staff.

I take a long draw of steaming caffeine and accept the soothing warmth all the way down to my toes.

“According to whom? You think last night is a sign you’re growing up?”

I shake my head, “I won’t be who you want me to be. I won’t fit in a little box of what is acceptable to make you proud.”

My father purses his lips, “All of that aside, you are putting yourself right in harm’s way. When will you understand? Those letters you keep receiving aren’t normal, no matter how much you would like to deny it. The Revealed have their eyes on you.”

“Exactly. This house isn’t going to save me.”

“Oh and that Westerfield boy will?”

I’m not sure what my father expects to accomplish by this conversation. I won’t revert back to that little doe-eyed daughter. I’m growing up. There is no going back no matter how much he wishes for it.

My father continues his lecture, but I haven’t heard a word.

Kai. I promised to meet Kai at 10:00 a.m. I glance at my watch. It’s fifteen minutes after.

“I have to go,” I fling back my chair and stand. “Homework,” I say simply, not caring that it’s an obvious lie and ignoring their demands I return.

By the time I climb over the gate around the property, it’s 10:25.

But Kai’s black Audi is still waiting. I glance at the cameras suddenly wondering if maybe this time it would be best for security to catch me, though I know Kai has switched them on repeat.

I suddenly feel guilty for running out on my parents on bad terms. It seems like lately all we are is on bad terms. Maybe I should go back. I glance over at the house looming behind me and feel the overbearing pressure that comes with everything inside of there.

I look back to Kai, sitting so comfortably in front of my house. He’s holding his phone in his hand with that arrogant pride at his technological abilities. I grin in spite of myself.

Kai hops from the car to whisk open the passenger door for me.

He sees my expression and shakes his head, “Today I get to drive.”

I stare at the passenger seat. It isn’t too late to go back. I stare over my shoulder at the security patrolling the premises. They haven’t seen me yet. I timed my exit well. But they will soon.

“You can trust me.”

His words take me off guard, and my gaze flickers to meet his. It only confirms his sincerity.

I get into the car. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” he says, and pulls out onto the road.

Great, just the way to elicit my trust. Convince me to get in the car and then don’t tell me anything. There’s no use harping on it now, though. I made my decision.

The top is down and I stretch my fingers into the air, enjoying the way the wind dances across my outstretched hands. I close my eyes and lean back against the headrest. A comfortable silence falls over us. It’s peaceful, which makes it easier to forget my uncertainty.

I glance over at Kai, keeping my head pressed against the seat. He has one hand casually draped over the wheel, his bicep bulging underneath his long-sleeve shirt, which he has bunched at his elbow. His eyes are trained ahead, gleaming with the thought behind his eyes I can’t pinpoint. He’s so good-looking it makes my chest ache. I want to take a picture of him, capture that look, and study it for hours.

Do I trust him?

Yes.

I know I shouldn’t feel this at ease sitting with him. I should be wary. But I’m not. Not at all, which makes me foolish, I suppose.

Feeling my eyes on him, Kai glances over at me. He quickly glances back at the road, but a smile plays at the corner of his mouth now.

“I don’t think I’d mind if we kept driving,” I tell him.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t think I would be upset at all if I never went back to that house.”

“Someday you won’t have to.”

“Someday, I’ll get into a car, put it in drive, and never look back.”

He smirks. “I might do the same.”

Maybe we’ll go together
.

Neither of us says it, though it seems to hang in the air.

“But that won’t happen for a while,” Kai adds as an afterthought. As though we are talking about reality here instead of the wishful thinking it really is. “I gave my word that I’d give my country another year. My leave of absence is almost over. Plus, one of them will become president whether we’re here to see it or not. Running won’t stop the reality of all this. But someday,” he adds, “someday.”

As if “someday” serves to preserve a hope for our future.

Kai takes me to the middle of the city where smoke billows from the factory smokestacks, turning the sky gray and orange. We’re told the society we live in now is comparable to that of the 1920s. The war set us back over a hundred years. Technology is for the wealthy. Cars and computers are rare commodities that I often forget not everyone has. Being in the city is a stark reminder. The transit bus is in full swing. It operates nearly twenty-four hours a day, and is the primary mode of transportation for most people. Those who don’t live far from their work usually bike or walk. Only the factory owners are rich enough to own a vehicle.

Amidst the browns and blacks of the city, there are random splashes of color: vivid sapphire and stark crimson. The blue signs support Atwood and the red are for Westerfield. Posters are affixed to the sides of buildings; they feature my father’s tall and proud image, his eyes glinting. “For a better tomorrow,” the signs proclaim. Westerfield’s banners show a man with a harder look. His chin turned slightly to the sky. His signs promise, “Never again.”

Seeing the heart of the city splashed with the campaign propaganda is a revelation. Even if The Revealed take me and this is the end of my life, I’ve lived these eighteen years in vivid color. The other ninety percent of the people in this city live with monochromatic hues. It’s dirty and destitute.

Kai notices my expression.

“It won’t stay like this if your father becomes president,” he says. “Kids will go to college again, really go. Not just the ones who have money. It will be like those old movies where kids our age have fun and play around with life. Your father will find The Revealed. He’ll make it safe again. People will get out of their houses, become innovators, grow. This’ll be a place of promise again.”

I give a curt laugh. “I wouldn’t be too sure.”

“We’ll have more of a chance than with mine. My father loves the power he holds. He says these people deserve the way they live. Like they’ve asked for it or something. I’ve heard him say it before. He doesn’t think they’re worth saving. He likes the system without a middle class. This country could be great again, you know, if the government would just give people the right resources, they could really make this place something.”

It’s obvious he’s passionate about the country. It’s also surprising. I’ve never seen this side of Kai before. He has a true desire to help. And he’s right. The city doesn’t have to be this way. Maybe someday it won’t be. Maybe Kai will be a part of that change.

It’s too bad I won’t be around to see it.

Kai pulls into a parking lot.

It’s a small place. I didn’t even notice the building until we were sitting in front of it. Trees line the median strip between the parking lot and the road, successfully blocking this area off from the rest of the city.

I read the name at the top of the building: Elias Fitness. “A gym?” I ask.

“Come on.” He leads me inside, where a bulky man is waiting for us at the counter.

“Perfect timing,” he tells Kai and takes us through two glass doors that lead out back. “I’m Elias.” He holds his hand out to me, and I shake it. This guy has arms the size of tree trunks, but the features of a child. His face is round and slightly red, topped by light-blond hair, which only makes his complexion look pinker. He’s in his mid-thirties, from what I can tell.

“Lily.”

“Pleasure.” He takes us through a large gym to an empty studio. There are only a few people around and none of them pay us much attention, too focused on the weights in their hands or the boxing dummy in front of them.

“Don’t worry,” Elias says, winking knowingly as I scan the building. “We added your name to the nondisclosure form I signed for Kai months ago. You’ll need these.” He hands me a pair of boxing gloves from a rack hanging on the wall.

Kai is already lacing up his pair. Elias helps me with mine.

“We’re really doing this?” I ask warily, looking over my shoulder at Kai as Elias secures the gloves around my wrists.

“Self-defense.” Kai holds his hands up and shakes his gloved wrists back and forth.

“What?” My jaw nearly drops.

“You were the one who said sitting in a house won’t save you. You’re right. But this might.” He playfully throws out his hand and socks me in the arm.

I flinch.

“It’s self-defense.”

“Okay?”

“So defend yourself,” he laughs, throwing out his hand again.

“I don’t know how,” I admit, but smile sheepishly nonetheless.