Dead Girl Running (The New Order Book 1) (19 page)

“Actually, it’s been a long day,” I admit.

“You know, Franco thinks we’re crazy for doing this.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” No kidding.

Liam shakes his head. “He doesn’t understand why this is so important to me. But you get it, right?”

I shrug. “I’d just like to make my mom proud of me, for once. I’d like to see her happy again.”

“I’m doing this for my mom, too. I mean, maybe we can get a better apartment if I do well. I’ll never accomplish that with my dead-end job in Human Relations. Winning this race is the only way I can distinguish myself to the New Order. You know, really stand out and make them notice me.”

“Yeah…” I think back to my parents’ old, beautiful apartment filled with sunlight. “I’d absolutely
love
getting a better place to live, but I don’t think running this race is going to change anything for me. Maybe it’s just a whim, after all.”

He frowns.

I release a pent up sigh. “Let’s be honest here. I know I can’t make my mom happy. Only she can do that.”

Mom pops her head into my room early the next morning. “Genetic Testing and Counseling called. You’ve got an appointment before work today.”

“What for?” I scowl. What a crappy start to the day. “Do they need to run more tests?”

“No. They said you passed. But they want you to go to Family Planning right away for your birth control implant.”

Unconsciously, my hand travels up to touch my upper left arm. “What’s the rush?”

Mom raises an eyebrow. “Maybe you should tell me.”

My cheeks burn. “I don’t know, Mom. I haven’t even had sex yet.”

“Well, you
have
been spending a lot of time with those Harman boys.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “What are you saying?”

She sighs. “Nothing, Sylvia. Don’t get so upset every time I open my mouth. I was just teasing. Now hurry up. We don’t have much time.”

Quickly, I pull on my green scrubs and my shoes then rush into our tiny kitchen. Mom snatches two protein bars from the cupboard by the fridge, hands me one, and we head out for my Citizen Family Planning appointment.

On the walk over, I can’t shake the feeling that the skin on my left upper arm buzzes in protest. Even my flesh knows I don’t want another implant. My hands itch to tear out the identification microchip that lives just under the skin of my right arm. But, like a good girl, I march through the front doors, along with my mother, and approach the front desk.

“Silvia Wood, here for my post-genetic screening appointment,” I announce, my legs jittering. I don’t want this. I want them to leave me alone.

The receptionist scans my microchip and records my Citizen Number. She gestures to the seating area. “Grab a chair, and we’ll be with you shortly.”

Soon, a curvaceous nurse with long, red hair and a bright smile approaches. “Silvia Wood? Please come with me.”

I read her white nametag:
Jen Pringle
.

As Mom and I follow her down the hall, my mind jumps back and forth between her flowing red hair and that of the pregnant, sobbing teenager I saw outside this building a few weeks ago. How had that girl managed to get pregnant? The New Order always brags about their low unplanned pregnancy rate. How come she didn’t receive the implant?

I shudder and enter the cool exam room.

Nurse Pringle hands me a clear plastic cup. “We need to make sure you’re not pregnant before we administer the implant.”

I try to hand the empty cup back. “I’m not pregnant. Guaranteed.”

She refuses to take it back. “We have to be sure. Sorry.”

“Just pee in the cup.” Mom’s loud whisper echoes from the corner where she stands with arms crossed.

“Fine.” I grab the cup and step into the mini-bathroom offshoot. This is ridiculous. I’ve never even been kissed.

After waiting ten minutes for the negative results, the nurse carries in a tray with the loaded injector gun. “There will be a little pinch, and this will sting for only a second. Afterward, you’ll feel a bump the size of a rice grain right here.” She points at my upper left arm.

“I know.” I stare at my feet, biting my tongue to avoid telling her my true thoughts on the subject:
I don’t want you injecting things in my body. I want to decide for myself. But that’s not possible.

The nurse gently rolls up my short sleeve, thoroughly swabs my arm, and positions the implant gun. I hear a clunk, feel a stab of pain, and turn away, sick to my stomach. I don’t want this implant. I don’t want to be like everybody else. Now, this stupid thing is going to stay in my arm until I die when someone like Gus will dig it out and deposit it into a reclaiming canister.

“All done.” She sets aside the tray and removes her gloves. “Thanks for coming in on such short notice.”

This time I don’t hold my tongue. “What was the rush?”

Her glossy smile is meant to reassure me. “It was requested from higher up.”

“Why?” I rub my arm. “Did something bad show up in my tests?”

Jen Pringle checks her computer screen. “No. Your tests were fine.”

“Good. But I still don’t understand why I had to rush in here so fast.”

“You’re eighteen,” says the nurse, as if this explains everything.

“So?” I ignore Mom, who’s moved closer so she can glare at me more effectively.

Again, the nurse checks her screen. “It says here you’ve been putting in a lot of miles while training for the Race for Citizen Glory… with Liam Harman.”

“So?” Why is that anyone’s business but my own? My mind flashes back to the previous day. Do they somehow know that I sat on a bed with not one, but two, guys? They can’t be watching that close, can they?

“We like to take proper precautions,” the nurse says with a polite smile.

I frown. The New Order needn’t worry. Nothing’s going to happen with Liam, and I’ve probably ruined my chance with Franco. I’ll forever be the girl who tried to kill herself—twice.

Twenty minutes later, and three blocks away from Family Planning, my mom’s still highly annoyed with me. She hasn’t said a word, but she doesn’t have to. Her flared nostrils inform me she’s disappointed in her only daughter—yet again.

After another block of angry speed walking, she speaks. “Why do you always have to make everything so difficult? It’s not like any of this is that nurse’s fault. Why did you have to act like she’s working against you?”

“Anyone who buys into the New Order is working against me,” I mutter so quiet that I’m not sure she can hear. “Why can’t you see that?”

She frowns. “I guess that includes me, doesn’t it? Maybe you can’t see it, but everything I do is in your best interest.”

“Everything except those Psych sessions you forced me to attend three days a week for a year.” I’m edgy, my arm itches, and I still feel sick to my stomach.

Her eyes narrow. “I can’t believe you’re bringing this up right now, here in the middle of the street.”

But my insides are boiling over, and I can’t stop. “No matter what, Dad was
always
on my side. Why aren’t
you?”

She pales. “Well, I’m sorry you’re stuck with me, but I’m all you’ve got. Maybe someday, you’ll learn to appreciate it.”

Our battle of words has brought us to the side door of Medical Facilities Northwest. I yank out my card to scan it, and Mom grabs my elbow.

She hisses in my ear. “Say what you want to me, but don’t let the others hear you talk like that. You have no idea how dangerous your words can be.” She lets go and hurries away.

I stare after her, my arm in the air, the card poised to strike. Is she talking about Dad and the meetings? No, she can’t be. She doesn’t know.

Or does she?

scan my work card and descend into the basement, my mind whirling. Mom can’t possibly know about the meetings. We were so careful. She must be talking about something else.

I pause, halfway down the stairs, remembering a night long ago. The hospital fades away. I grab the railing as the past comes into view.

A few days before his death, Dad and I hover in the front hallway of our apartment.

“You’re my girl, right?” He winks. Everything is a game to him.

“I’ve got your back,” I chirp, excited to be included in Dad’s big secret.

“Now, you’re old enough to be left alone without getting scared, right?”

I nod. So very brave. But if I’d known I only had a few days left with him, I would’ve forced Dad to stay with me that night.

“Your mom will be home in a half hour with the grocery rations.” He gives me a quick hug. “And I’ll be home soon after. Tell her the light burned out in the bathroom… ”

“And I have a cold coming on.” I cough on cue. “So, I stayed home while you went to get the replacement.”

He kisses my cheek. “That’s my girl.”