The Girl Who Wasn't (11 page)

Several minutes later, something hard
presses against my foot and travels upward to the outside of my
knee. I look up and catch Daniel watching me. He winks and goes
back to his food. I steal a glance under the table and find
Daniel’s foot stroking my leg.

I kick him and he moves
away.

The meal passes with small talk that I
don’t quite understand. Daniel mentions “the business.” Titus
replies it is booming and Daniel agrees. “Of course it is. The poor
are growing more and more volatile. You’d think having nothing
would crush their spirit, not the opposite.” Distaste coats his
words.

“
They’ll tire eventually,”
Titus says. “In the meantime, our greatest defense is concealment
of our … transitions.” He glances my way and then falls silent.
They don’t want me to hear this.

Daniel seems to understand and they
change the subject, discussing a party for a senator. They
speculate about elections and polls and the hot topics being
shouted from soapboxes. I catch the words “city segregation” and
lose my appetite as I remember the stumbling man Linc and I
narrowly avoided the other night.

Titus wants to ban people like that
from this part of the city. I can’t help the small sliver of relief
that brings—the prospect of not bearing witness to such wanting.
But then I realize how completely opposite of compassionate that
would be, and my appetite vanishes. I set my utensils aside and
fold my hands in my lap. I will not eat. I will not be party to
this conversation, even through acquiescence.

After dinner, Titus leaves us alone and
Daniel and I go into the parlor. I am nervous. Not because of
Daniel but because Linc shadows us. I want to speak to him, to find
out where he’s been or if anything new has come to light about my
attackers, but I know that would be a mistake.

I sit primly on the edge of a
high-backed chair, but Daniel immediately waves me over to the
small space left on the loveseat beside him. “What are you doing
all the way over there, kitten? Daddy won’t bother us for a while.”
He says the words slowly, suggestively, and every nerve ending
jumps as I settle next to him.

Invisible insects crawl over my skin as
he slides his arm around me and pulls me close. He is smiling down
at me, his lips twisted in a way that belies any warmth behind the
gesture. “Come here.”

His hands move fast. The one wrapped
around my shoulders draws me close, pinning me between the couch
and his chest. The other fumbles with the button on my jacket. When
he’s freed it, he slides his hand along my blouse and squeezes my
breast. His smile is predatory. I am terrified into silence. There
is no way to stop him without completely giving myself away. But to
let him continue would be to give up much more than my real
name.

His hands move in slow circles, cupping
and rubbing my breasts. Through the fabric of my bra, he catches my
nipple between his finger and thumb and pinches it to the point of
pain. A small sound escapes my lips and I shift in my seat. It’s
taken as encouragement and his advances escalate.

He reaches for the hem of my blouse and
rips it free from my belt line. I feel him pull it aside and reach
for my skin underneath.

“
Daniel—”

His mouth is slimy and hard when it
captures mine. Nothing like what I’ve imagined a kiss to be. I’ve
spent so much time daydreaming over the single contact of Linc’s
hand on my leg that the reality is harshly disappointing. Instead
of warmth or heady anticipation, my insides are cold. My lips move
slow or not at all and when he finally lets me go to take a breath,
my eyes water in relief.

This isn’t what I thought it would be.
Then again, Daniel isn’t who I wanted to try it with. Daniel’s
knuckles brush roughly over the bruise on my cheek, reminding me
where my loyalty is supposed to lie.

I swallow but it lodges in my throat
and I can feel Linc watching us from near the doorway. His
expression twists into something I cannot bear. I know then I
cannot do this. I cannot be this version of Authentic
Raven.

I shove Daniel away and straighten my
back so that our bodies are no longer pressing together from hip to
shoulder. “I’m not feeling very well,” I say.

He frowns but looks more angry than
concerned. “What’s the problem?”

I rack my brain for a good-enough
reason to bolt from the room. When I don’t answer, he says, “You’re
not still thinking about that incident from last night, are you?”
He leans closer and winds his arm around my shoulders
again.

That incident.
Someone tried to murder me, and Daniel has
referred to it as
that
incident
. My chest burns with indignation.
My fingertips tingle with it. I jump to my feet and stare down at
him, uncaring what the correct response is or if I am out of
character.

“
I think you should go
now.”

He stands too and smiles slyly. “I love
it when you make me work for it, Rav,” he says. His voice is rough
with desire. Before I can react, he grabs and yanks me against him.
His hands press against my lower back, sliding toward my ass. His
mouth is hovering over mine and I know what he intends to do. I
refuse to let him.

The anger is hot, spilling out. I shove
him. “Get away from me,” I hiss. From the corner of my eye, I see
Linc take a step toward us. Daniel doesn’t notice. He’s too busy
accepting my rejection—something he’s probably never experienced,
judging by the expression on his face.

“
Seriously?” Daniel gapes at
me. “Is it your time of the month or something?”

I concentrate on breathing in and out
slowly because this stupid boy is not worth blowing my cover. He is
not worth dying over.

Although it’s a product of my rage, my
voice shakes as I say, “I will not ask you again.”

Before Daniel can respond, Linc cuts
in. “The lady asked you to leave. I think it’s best if you
comply.”

Daniel whips his head around. For the
first time, he seems to notice how Linc has positioned himself. His
shoulders stiffen. “Are you threatening me, GI Joe? Because that
wouldn’t be very smart.”

“
I’m simply reiterating the
lady’s request.” Linc’s tone is even, giving nothing away, but I
see his fingers curl slightly inward.

Linc and Daniel regard one another. The
air is heavy with tension. Finally, Daniel blinks and mutters under
his breath. I catch the words “replaced” and “early” before he
grabs his jacket off the arm of the sofa and stomps out.

I don’t move until I hear the outer
door—the one that will take him to the elevator—opening and closing
behind him.

When I move to leave, Linc steps into
my path, blocking me. I don’t want to look at him. If I see pity in
his expression, I think I’ll lose it. All of the layers I’ve
stacked so carefully between me and the rest of the world feel
cracked and broken. My wall is close to crumbling in this moment
and I refuse to let him see that. To let Titus hear about it. He is
not worth dying over, either.

“
Are you all
right?”

It’s anger I hear in his voice, not
concern, and that intrigues me. I raise my face to his. There is
more anger there. And something else, but it is not pity or
suspicion as I feared. I exhale.

“
I’ll be fine,” I
manage.

“
Are you sure? Because
you’ve never—” He breaks off, his expression clouding.

“
I’ve never
what?”

He is silent and unwilling to look at
me. Suddenly, I need to know what it is Authentic Raven has never
done. And why he’s noticed.

“
You’ve never turned down a
boy,” he says quietly.

My cheeks heat but this time it is not
from anger. “Oh.” My face burns with an emotion that feels foreign.
I sidestep him and make for my bedroom. By the time I’m inside, I
realize what it is that made me flee from his words. It is
shame.

I am ashamed for something I’ve never
done.

Chapter Seven

Titus is not at breakfast the next
morning. It is a welcome relief until Maria brings me the note he’s
left in his absence:

Your early dismissal of
Daniel last evening leads me to believe you are not yourself after
all the excitement of the past few days. Gus will escort you to the
gym after breakfast. Exercise is paramount to mental health.
–Titus

Revulsion courses through me as I
realize even Raven’s father condones her exploits. I read the words
three times before I am convinced there is no hidden threat. Titus
doesn’t know what happened last night. Not truly.

The last line is a stark reminder of
what I am—and gives me pause. It is the same slogan painted in
block letters above the gym doors and on multiple walls throughout
Twig City. I wonder how Titus knows so much about where I come
from.

I am no longer hungry but I’ll need the
calories now, so I fold the paper and lay it aside while I finish
eating. The routine of exercise is nothing new, but I’m still weak
from the hit I sustained on the rooftop—and the one Titus dealt me
when I got home. Plus I haven’t been sleeping well. I doubt any of
this will matter to Gus.

I swallow the rest of my eggs without
chewing and chase it with juice. Gus is there before my plate has
been cleared. Wishing he were Linc, I rise and follow him out. He
leads me down a hall I don’t recognize and we take a flight of
stairs down to a lower level I didn’t know existed as part of this
apartment. I pay close attention to details like doors and exit
signs before I curse myself for the futility.

Although I know I’m imagining it, I
swear I can feel the GPS in my arm pulsing to the beat of my heart
as I walk. Taunting me. Reminding me there is no escape. Only duty
and purpose.

“
You can change here,” Gus
says.

I’m left alone in a small room with a
cabinet full of sports bras and Lycra shorts. There isn’t enough
material on either for my taste, and when I emerge, I feel naked.
Gus gives me a cursory glance but the other two guards who’ve
positioned themselves near the exits give me a thorough once-over
that makes my skin crawl. I do my best to ignore them and follow
Gus to a wall-mounted cabinet that contains fencing
equipment.

My experience with this particular
sport is limited. The equipment in Twig City is second-rate because
the women get the men’s hand-me-downs. The foils are all dull by
the time they reach us, dangerous in their disrepair. Lonnie loves
it, though, so I am often talked into it against my better
judgment. I usually walk away with some bruise or another when we
abandon the foils and it deteriorates into a wrestling
match.

Lonnie loves to wrestle. Ida always
fusses at that.

I grit my teeth and force my
concentration back to the equipment Gus is handing me. I slide the
gloves on and wiggle my fingers until they’re properly fitted. My
injured cheek smarts as I slide the mask over my face. It smells
stale, not of sweat but as if it hasn’t been used in a while. I
wonder if Authentic Raven is a skilled fencer. I am tempted to ask
Gus so I know what level of skill to strive for, but I keep silent.
I remember my encounter with Titus and how Gus stood by and watched
in silence. I don’t want to talk to him any more than I would
Titus.

The door opens and a girl enters. I’ve
never seen her before. She is young with dark features and reminds
me of the kitchen staff with her olive skin tone and full lips. She
spots Gus and then me and begins to make her way over. She is
dressed like me, although she has a shirt covering her torso where
my halter leaves my abdomen bare.

“
Raven, this is Sofia. She
is your fencing partner,” Gus says.

We offer matching dips of our chin, and
then Gus shoves a foil into my hand and walks off. Sofia pays me no
attention as she goes about adorning herself with protective
equipment. She is all business, absorbed in her
preparations.

I look to Gus and the unnamed security
guard who stands to his left. I wonder where Linc is. I haven’t
seen him all morning. His absence makes me nervous. My fears are
infinite. That he’s somewhere else, fighting and killing for Titus,
or otherwise in danger. That he has been removed from my protection
detail against his will—or that he’s asked to be reassigned. After
our conversation last night, I think it is likely his choice to
avoid me.

A thousand different things could be
keeping him away. None of them should matter. He shouldn’t matter,
but I can’t help that he does. It’s a problem I haven’t quite
figured out yet.

Soft footsteps behind me alert me that
Sofia is ready. I turn and find her watching me through the screen
of her mask.

“
Let’s get this over with,”
she mutters.

Her expression teeters on boredom but I
can feel Gus watching, and I know this is a test, one of a million
small things that mean nothing—unless I botch it. I face Sofia and
press my teeth together, determined to show myself at least
capable.

I swing up and around with my foil,
testing the weight of it in my hand. I focus on how it feels, how I
feel with it in motion. Gus and the security guard are no longer on
my radar. Sofia is nothing more than an oncoming blade. I stare
just past her temple, allowing my peripheral to capture abstract
movement rather than specifics just like Lonnie always says. My
reflexes take over, our thrusts and steps a tandem and spontaneous
dance.