Uglies (9 page)

Tally nodded, and closed her eyes.

“It's not like here, Tally. They don't separate everyone, uglies from pretties, new and middle and late. And you can leave whenever you want, go anywhere you want.”

“Like where?”

“Anywhere. Ruins, the forest, the sea. And . . . you never have to get the operation.”

“You
what
?”

Shay sat next to her, touching Tally's cheek with one finger. Tally opened her eyes. “We don't have to look like everyone else, Tally, and act like everyone else. We've got a choice. We can grow up any way we want.”

Tally swallowed. She felt like speech was impossible, but knew
she had to say something. She forced words from her dry throat. “Not be pretty? That's crazy, Shay. All the times you talked that way, I thought you were just being stupid. Peris always said the same stuff.”

“I
was
just being stupid. But when you said I was afraid of growing up, you really made me think.”

“
I
made you think?”

“Made me realize how full of crap I was. Tally, I've got to tell you another secret.”

Tally sighed. “Okay. I guess it can't get any worse.”

“My older friends, the ones I used to hang out with before I met you? Not all of them wound up pretty.”

“What do you mean?”

“Some of them ran away, like I am. Like I want us to.”

Tally looked into Shay's eyes, searching for some sign that this was all a joke. But the intense look on her face held firm. She was dead serious.

“You know someone who actually ran away?”

Shay nodded. “I was supposed to go too. We had it all planned, about a week before the first of us turned sixteen. We'd already stolen survival gear, and told David that we were coming. It was all set up. That was four months ago.”

“But you didn't . . .”

“Some of us did, but I chickened out.” Shay looked out the window. “And I wasn't the only one. A couple of the others stayed and turned pretty instead. I probably would have too, except I met you.”

“Me?”

“All of a sudden I wasn't alone anymore. I wasn't afraid to go back out to the ruins, to look for David again.”

“But we never . . .” Tally blinked. “You finally found him, didn't you?”

“Not until two days ago. I've been out every night since we . . . since our fight. After you said I was afraid to grow up, I realized you were right. I'd chickened out once, but I didn't have to again.”

Shay grasped Tally's hand, and waited until their eyes were locked. “I want you to come, Tally.”

“No,” Tally said without thinking. Then she shook her head. “Wait. How come you never
told
me any of this before?”

“I wanted to, except you would have thought I was crazy.”

“You
are
crazy!”

“Maybe. But not that way. That's why I wanted you to meet David. So you'd know that it's all real.”

“It doesn't seem real. I mean, what is this place you're talking about?”

“It's just called the Smoke. It's not a city, and nobody's in charge. And nobody's pretty.”

“Sounds like a nightmare. And how do you get there, walk?”

Shay laughed. “Are you kidding? Hoverboards, like always. There are long-distance boards that recharge on solar, and the route's all worked out to follow rivers and stuff. David does it all the time, as far as the ruins. He'll take us to the Smoke.”

“But how do people
live
out there, Shay? Like the Rusties? Burning trees for heat and burying their junk everywhere? It's
wrong to live in nature, unless you want to live like an animal.”

Shay shook her head and sighed. “That's just school-talk, Tally. They've still got technology. And they're not like the Rusties, burning trees and stuff. But they don't put a wall up between themselves and nature.”

“And everyone's ugly.”

“Which means no one's ugly.”

Tally managed to laugh. “Which means no one's
pretty,
you mean.”

They sat in silence. Tally watched the fireworks, feeling a thousand times worse than she had before Shay had appeared at the window.

Finally, Shay said the words Tally had been thinking. “I'm going to lose you, aren't I?”

“You're the one who's running away.”

Shay brought her fists down onto her knees. “It's all my fault. I should've told you earlier. If you'd had more time to get used to the idea, maybe . . .”

“Shay, I never would have gotten used to the idea. I don't want to be ugly all my life. I want those perfect eyes and lips, and for everyone to look at me and gasp. And for everyone who sees me to think
Who's that?
and want to get to know me, and listen to what I say.”

“I'd rather
have
something to say.”

“Like what? ‘I shot a wolf today and ate it'?”

Shay giggled. “People don't eat wolves, Tally. Rabbits, I think, and deer.”

“Oh, gross. Thanks for the image, Shay.”

“Yeah, I think I'll stick to vegetables and fish. But it's not about camping out, Tally. It's about becoming what I want to become. Not what some surgical committee thinks I should.”

“You're still yourself on the inside, Shay. But when you're pretty, people pay more attention.”

“Not everyone thinks that way.”

“Are you sure about that? That you can beat evolution by being smart or interesting? Because if you're wrong . . . if you don't come back by the time you're twenty, the operation won't work as well. You'll look wrong, forever.”

“I'm not coming back. Forever.”

Tally's voice caught, but she forced herself to say it: “And I'm not going.”

•  •  •

They said good-bye under the dam.

Shay's long-range hoverboard was thicker, and glimmered with the facets of solar cells. She'd also stashed a heated jacket and hat under the bridge. Tally guessed that winters at the Smoke were cold and miserable.

She couldn't believe her friend was really going.

“You can always come back. If it sucks.”

Shay shrugged. “None of my friends has.”

The words gave Tally a creepy feeling. She could think of a lot of horrible reasons to explain why no one had come back. “Be careful, Shay.”

“You too. You're not going to tell anyone about this, right?”

“Never, Shay.”

“You swear? No matter what?”

Tally raised her scarred palm. “I swear.”

Shay smiled. “I know. I just had to ask again before I . . .” She pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Tally.

“What's this?” Tally opened it up and saw a scrawl of letters. “When did you learn to write by hand?”

“We all learned while we were planning to leave. It's a good idea if you don't want minders sniffing your diary. Anyway, that's for you. I'm not supposed to leave any record of where I'm going, so it's in code, kind of.”

Tally frowned, reading the first line of slanted words. “‘Take the coaster straight past the gap'?”

“Yeah. Get it? Only you could figure it out, in case someone finds it. You know, if you ever want to follow me.”

Tally started to say something, but couldn't. She managed to nod.

“Just in case,” Shay said.

She jumped onto her board and snapped her fingers, securing her knapsack over both shoulders. “Good-bye, Tally.”

“Bye, Shay. I wish . . .”

Shay waited, bobbing just a bit in the cool September wind. Tally tried to imagine her growing old, wrinkled, gradually ruined, all without ever having been truly beautiful. Never learning how to dress properly, or how to act at a formal dance. Never having anyone look into her eyes and be simply overwhelmed.

“I wish I could have seen what you would look like. Pretty, I mean.”

“Guess you'll just have to live with remembering my face this way,” Shay said.

Then she turned and her hoverboard climbed away toward the river, and Tally's next words were lost on the roar of the water.

OPERATION

When the day came, Tally waited for the car alone.

Tomorrow, when the operation was all over, her parents would be waiting outside the hospital, along with Peris and her other older friends. That was the tradition. But it seemed strange that there was no one to see her off on this end. No one said good-bye except a few uglies passing by. They looked so young to her now, especially the just-arrived new class, who gawked at her like she was an old pile of dinosaur bones.

She'd always loved being independent, but now Tally felt like the last littlie to be picked up from school, abandoned and alone. September was a crappy month to be born.

“You're Tally, right?”

She looked up. It was a new ugly, awkwardly exploding into unfamiliar height, tugging at his dorm uniform like it was already too tight.

“Yeah.”

“Aren't you the one who's going to turn today?”

“That's me, Shorty.”

“So how come you look so sad?”

Tally shrugged. What could this half-littlie, half-ugly understand, anyway? She thought about what Shay had said about the operation.

Yesterday they'd taken Tally's final measurements, rolling her all the way through an imaging tube. Should she tell this new ugly that sometime this afternoon, her body was going to be opened up, the bones ground down to the right shape, some of them stretched or padded, her nose cartilage and cheekbones stripped out and replaced with programmable plastic, skin sanded off and reseeded like a soccer field in spring? That her eyes would be laser-cut for a lifetime of perfect vision, reflective implants inserted under the iris to add sparkling gold flecks to their indifferent brown? Her muscles all trimmed up with a night of electrocize and all her baby fat sucked out for good? Teeth replaced with ceramics as strong as a suborbital aircraft wing, and as white as the dorm's good china?

They said it didn't hurt, except the new skin, which felt like a killer sunburn for a couple of weeks.

As the details of the operation buzzed around in her head, she could imagine why Shay had run away. It did seem like a lot to go through just to look a certain way. If only people were smarter,
evolved enough to treat everyone the same even if they looked different. Looked ugly.

If only Tally had come up with the right argument to make her stay.

The imaginary conversations were back, but much worse than they had been after Peris had left. A thousand times she'd fought with Shay in her head—long, rambling discussions about beauty, biology, growing up. All those times out in the ruins, Shay had made her points about uglies and pretties, the city and the outside, what was fake and what was real. But Tally had never once realized her friend might actually run away, giving up a life of beauty, glamour, elegance. If only she'd said the right thing.
Any
thing.

Sitting here, she felt as if she'd hardly tried.

Tally looked the new ugly in the eye. “Because it all comes down to this: Two weeks of killer sunburn is worth a lifetime of being gorgeous.”

The kid scratched his head. “Huh?”

“Something I should have said, and didn't. That's all.”

•  •  •

The hospital hovercar finally came, settling onto the school grounds so lightly that it hardly disturbed the fresh-mown grass.

The driver was a middle pretty, radiating confidence and authority. He looked so much like Sol that Tally almost called her father's name.

“Tally Youngblood?” he said.

Tally had already seen the flash of light that had read her eye-print, but she said, “Yes, that's me,” anyway. Something about the
middle pretty made it hard to be flippant. He was wisdom personified, his manner so serious and formal that Tally found herself wishing she had dressed up.

“Are you ready? Not taking much.”

Her duffel bag was only half-full. Everyone knew that new pretties wound up recycling most of the stuff they brought over the river, anyway. She'd have all new clothes, of course, and all the new pretty toys she wanted. All she'd really kept was Shay's handwritten note, hidden among a bunch of random crap. “Got enough.”

“Good for you, Tally. That's very mature.”

“That's me, sir.”

The door closed, and the car took off.

•  •  •

The big hospital was on the bottom end of New Pretty Town. It was where everyone went for serious operations: littlies, uglies, even late pretties from way out in Crumblyville coming in for life-extension treatments.

The river was sparkling under a cloudless sky, and Tally allowed herself to be swept away by the beauty of New Pretty Town. Even without the nighttime lights and fireworks, the city's surfaces shone with glass and metal, the unlikely spindles of party towers casting thin shadows across the island. It was so much more vibrant than the Rusty Ruins, Tally suddenly saw. Not as dark and mysterious, perhaps, but more alive.

It was time to stop sulking about Shay. Life was going to be one big party from now on, full of beautiful people. Like Tally Youngblood.

The hovercar descended onto one of the red
X
s on the hospital roof, and Tally's driver escorted her inside, taking her to a waiting room. An orderly looked up Tally's name, flashed her eye again, and told her to wait.

“You'll be okay?” the driver asked.

She looked up into his clear, soft eyes, wanting him to stay. But asking him to wait with her didn't seem very mature. “No, I'm fine. Thanks.” He smiled and went away.

No one else was in the waiting room. Tally settled back and counted the tiles on the ceiling. As she waited, the conversations with Shay in her head came back again, but they weren't so troubling here. It was too late for second thoughts now.