The Initiation

They call them the Group. The younger children, of course, always ask stupid intrinsic questions. "A Group?" they ask, always somewhat confused. "A Group of what? Chickens?" My parents, being the sarcastic type, affirmed this. "Yes, Eve," they told me. "Inside, they are chickens. Do not listen to them!" I believed they were chickens for way too long. Now I realize what they really are: just the Group. They aren't a group of anything. They're just the Group. That's our only name for them. You can always tell when a kid is going to become part of the Group. There's nothing completely specific; maybe they're just a little too loud when they laugh, maybe they look at you just a little too hard when you're talking. But you can tell who they are when they're five onward and sure enough, when they're old enough, they become part of the Group. I'm still a little fuzzy on why the Group is so special. I guess no one outside of the Group itself really knows. But I do know that I'll never join it. People who don't like the system join the Group. The system isn't the greatest thing in the world, but at least they aren't chickens. "Hey Alice," I said, sitting down on the bench next to her. Alice and I both take the city bus every day, so we have to walk to the transit center near our house. It's not placed anywhere terribly important, just a stretch of concrete with alleyways in it for buses to stop and benches for people to sit on. Even though five different buses clock in at 6:30, there are only two other people there. "What's up, Ev?" My name is Evangeline. That name sucks. Thus, all of my friends call me Ev, and my parents and teachers call me Eve. "Exciting things," I said sarcastically. "The transit center is always roaring with excitement at six thirty five am." "Oh totally," Alice said. She's not terribly sarcastic (unlike me), but she puts up with mine pretty easily. "Anyway, id you check the speech website this morning?" "Yes, because I've made it a habit to check school websites in the ten minutes I have to get ready." I rolled my eyes. "What, are the comp lists up?" Alice and I both compete in Speech tournaments, giving speeches. The competitions are called comps and the signups are referred to as "comp lists". I don't think a sane person came up with these nicknames. "Did you sign us up?" There are only five spots per event per school, so you have to grab them quickly. "Duh. I'm in persuasive, you're signed up for improve." There are five different kinds of speeches, and they're called events. Persuasive means you try to convince someone of something, improve means you get a topic and you ramble on about it for five minutes. I'm naturally hilarious and come up with instant stories, so I'm pretty good. I haven't won as much as Alice though (in the two and a half years we've been doing this, she's only gotten second place twice), because if you get a bad topic in improve you're screwed. The stupid 55 bus finally came. I showed my bus pass to the driver and Alice paid and we sat down. Alice only takes the bus to school, so she has to pay the $1.50 fare. My family bikes and buses everywhere, so I have a pass. Alice started playing on her smartphone while I vaguely considered dragging out my crappy laptop or my mp3 player. I looked at her phone enviously. "Dude, I want one of those soooo bad. I hear it's one step away from being, like, freaking holographic." Alice nodded and started throwing stats at me, something she is overly prone to. I cut her off halfway. "You're phone may be great, dear, but my netbook is still better. Ha ha." A netbook is a tiny little computer. "Oh yeah. Windows 7? Please. That came out, like, what, eleven years ago? No one except total nerds even knows what that is." "It works fine," I said. "Besides, it has a keyboard. That automatically makes it better. That phone's probably driven people to asylums just trying to type on it." "Well, your keyboard is so freaking small a chipmunk would have a hard time typing on it." "Alice, I think a chipmunk would have a hard time typing on anything. Especially your phone," I felt the need to explain. We argued technology some more and I, of course, resoundingly lost. Alice not only has far better technology than me (her family is freaking rich, okay), but she's memorized just about every fact and statistic about it, so I'm sort of dead before I start. We made it to school about forty five minutes later. By car, it's a twenty minute ride. That's how annoyingly slow the stupid bus is. "Why do they always get here so early?" I complained. "School doesn't start for, like, a half hour. I so could have slept in. I swear, I think a three year old came up with this stupid schedule." "They have twenty different schedules to try and sync," Alice pointed out. "You could stop complaining." "I couldn't stop complaining if my life depended on it," I said proudly. "Complaining is my life." We walked into school talking about comps. Alice's chief riva for persuasive, Emily, had also signed up for the next comp (since the only people that are any good at persuasive are stat-loving OCD braniacs, the four of them always rush on and sign onto the comp lists bizarrely early). While Alice liked to obsessively research her topic and bury listeners in facts, Emily had a more logical, though fact-skimpy, approach some judges like. "I mean," Alice was saying, leaning against the locker next to mine, "I bet she researches her speech for like five minutes. She has, like, no evidence. No stats. How can you win a round with no facts?" "Mm-hmm," I said, not really listening. Alice has the tendency to say things over and over, and her rant on Emily's lack of facts was not new to me. "I hate my locker," I muttered, trying to yank my biology text out of my locker. Unfortunately, there were enough library books shoved in there to kill a small child. I'm not the world's biggest fan of reading, but my brother is, and since his school doesn't have a library I get the thankless task of shlepping his books back and forth from the library. "What's that?" Alice asked. "Bio?" "Yep," I said. "What? Is a snarky comment on the way?" "No, of course not, B-track Baby," Alice answered with a snicker. "Geometry Girl. Biobicile." In our country there are four tracks of educations- A, B, C, and D (I know, the creativity of the names blew me away too). A and B kids go to a different high school than C kids, and D kids stop at middle school. They tell what track you belong to partly from your genetics (everyone loves the super-fun genetics test) and mostly from a massive exam take at the end of the year (It takes like three weeks, that's how massive it is). Theoretically you can move tracks, but it's fairly difficult. Once you get to about fifth grade you're sort of stuck with your track. Alice, along with a little less than a quarter of the school, is A-track. I'm in B-track. Actually, I was C-track until last year when I realized that Alice and I would end up going to different schools unless I sucked up and blew everyone away on my stupid test. I'm probably smart enough to completely ace the test and get into A-track, but you also sort of have to have good grades, and I don't like work so that's not happening. Anyway, the A-track kids and a math and science class above the B-trackers and have different History and English classes. The A-track kids enjoy making fun of B and C-trackers. Some girls will go and cry themselves a river over this, but I think they should just consider themselves lucky that people make fun of their track rather than the fact that more water comes from their tear ducts than my kitchen faucet. "Whatever, Stat Queen," I answered. "I still got a higher score on that test than you, so suck on that, Alien." The B-trackers also have mean names for A-track kids, but they pretty much suck so I only use them on Alice, when sarcasm is my preoccupation. "See you at break," I said. "See you." My first class of the day was English. Normally I would dislike English as much as I hate the rest of my subjects, but the English teacher is also our Speech coach (or Director, she likes us to call her), so I sort of have to like it. I walked in and took a seat next to my friend Kevin. "Hey, Kev," I greeted. "Whaddup, Ev." "Was there homework last night?" I asked. Kevin sighed. "No, there was not. And if there was? You would do it now?" "You know me," I answered. A substitute walked in then. Yay. Substitute. He started calling roll, and, as usual, mercilessly slaughtered everyone's name. Why names like Dylan or Anastasia are so impossible to pronounce for substitutes will always be a mystery to me. "Hey, Mister Substitute," I called out. "There's a seating chart on the podium there. If you look at it you could avoid killing eveyone's name and everything." "Oh, there is?" The substitute asked. "Good idea, Miss…." He looked up my name on the roll sheet. "Evangeline." "Eve," I said. "I'm not a costume shop." There's a popular costume shop in Sacramento called Evangeline's. "But Evangeline's is a wonderful store," the sub answered. "You should be proud of your namesake." "It's a lot less wonderful come Halloween," I answered. "I can imagine that." The substitute proceeded, made the amazing discovery that everyone was here today, and then started yammering on about his life story the way substitutes always do. I swear, I will ever understate why subs think we care about them. They're here for a day, we don't care about their life! The B-track kids, of course, were paying an inordinate amount of attention. B-track is mostly kids with lots of motivation and no intellect, and I find them very irritating. The teachers, having a class of kids that treat them like God, generally hate me me, a smart-alec that doesn't really care about school. It's fun. "…and so, as your teacher is taking the rest of the year off, I will be the permanent substitute." What? Permanent substitute? Isn't that somewhat of an oxymoron? I poked Kevin. "Yo, Kev, why is he the permanent substitute?" I hissed. "Because Mrs. Mariss is pregnant," he hissed back. "Do you ever pay attention?" "You know me," I answered. "Excuse me," the substitute (whose name I had yet to learn) announced. "Why is there talking in the back of the class?" "Because we have something to say," I answered. Kev did a facedesk, clearly not wanting to get in trouble. What a bizarre person! Who doesn't like getting in trouble for stupid reasons? "Well, maybe the class would like to hear what you have to say?" "Maybe not." "Then be quiet." A thought occurred to me. "Hey, are you going to be the Director, too?" "The what?" "The Director. Speech coach. That." "Yes, I am." Class proceeded and I paid about as much attention as I always do- that is, nothing. I stared at the window instead, because that's just the kind of person I am. Kev and I walked out of English class fifty minutes later. "Ev, why do you have to talk back to teachers like that?" "Because that's just the way I am," I answered. "He's going to hate you, you know. Do you want the Director to hate you?" "All teachers hate me," I answered, like that was any kind of answer. "He'll just hate me….more quickly." "How on earth can you act so not irritated by that?" Kev asked, completely stymied. Kevin is a fairly typical B-tracker, automatically making him somewhat irritating, but he's pretty good as B-trackers go. He's occasionally sarcastic, which is an automatic plus in my book. Moreover, Alice and I figure that anyone that can take being irritated, insulted, annoying, teased, bullied, and put-down for seven hours a day (by me) deserves marginal respect. "So, you're doing improv for the next comp?" Kevin was saying. I was somewhat surprised by this. Normally Kevin doesn't talk about comps, because he knows full well that the second you start talking about comps with me the subject of the conversation will never change. We all have those things that we love to talk about- for me, it's the comps, for Kevin, it's history, and for Alice, it's…well…pretty much anything that could possibly involve statistics in some way. "Hell yes," I said. "I love improv. I get to be sarcastic for five straight minutes and people don't try to kill me." "I thought you liked it when people tried to kill you for the sarcasm." "Of course I do," I answered, "but people trying to kill you can occasionally mess up the flow of your sarcasm. Trust me, my dear friend- I have sarcasm down to an exact science." "I'm not surprised in the least." The next period was as boring as the first one. English and Geometry pretty much tie for stupidity. In English, we don't learn anything, and Geometry is all really obvious stuff any six year old with a protractor already figured out eight years ago. At least Science and History are somewhat interesting. I was conducting intense surveillance of the area outside the window when Kevin rudely poked me in the arm. He always does this. "Ev, are you paying attention?" "No." "Are you trying to leave B-track?" he hissed at me. "They'll kick you back down into C-track if your grades drop, you know." I sighed, glared at him, and watched the board for a second. Being a math class, the gist of the lesson was one sentence, and the rest was just sort of…space fillers. I hate school. "Why do they go over everything so many times?" I said as we walked out of second period and met up with Alice. "Seriously, dude. Anyone with five brain cells could probably learn this textbook in ten minutes." Alice slammed her locker door. "What? You want them to go faster?" "No," I said. "I want them to shut the hell up so I can do something useful. No one cares about geometry." "I care," Alice and Kevin said in unison. Ugh, why do I never have a baseball bat when I need one? "Well, you guys are nerds," I said. "I hate school." "You don't hate school," Kevin said. "Dude, Kevin," I said, trying my combination for the twentieth time, "I knew you were stupid, but seriously, where have you been for the past, like, three years? School majorly sucks." "No," Alice said, apparently agreeing with him. "This curriculum sucks. You're five years ahead of it." "I am not," I said, finally managing to figure out my combination. I swear, I think a caveman would have a better time with manual dexterity than me sometimes. "Well-" Kevin started. "You guys both know I hate it when you do your whole psycho-analysis-crazy-whatever-shit. So just shut up." "I can't believe you're not failing B-track," Kevin muttered angrily. "You never pay attention or do your homework, and you still got the highest score on that stupid placement test." "I'm magic like that." "But B-track is hard!" "Dude, are you crazy?" I asked him. "Everyone in B-track is completely stupid. The teachers have to explain a concept four different times." "I'm not an idiot," Kevin said. "Uh, Ms. Kelly," I said in a dorky voice, mocking one of his earlier questions, raising my hand slightly. "So…Angle-Side-Angle only works when you have two angles and a side congruent, right?" I flicked him in the forehead. "Dude, you are the biggest idiot in the class, I swear." Kevin glared at me but didn't say anything. It took me a couple seconds to see Alice staring. "Alice?" I asked. "What's over there?" I looked over and failed to see anything particularly special, just people and locker and a wall. "It's that girl from the Group," Alice said. "Don't you see her? The one with the blue streak?" "Oh," I said, seeing her then. "What makes you think she joined the Group?" The only thing I could think of was the fact that she didn't have a backpack with her, but that was hardly noteworthy. Lots of kids put them in their locker or classroom or brought tote bags instead of backpacks. That and the fact that she had a streak in her hair, but, once again, I could see fifteen other kids with hair dye that were not Group kids. "You can just tell," Alice said. "When they join the Group you can almost see it around them." "Fine, whatever. But I don't think we should stare. It's really not polite." "It's not polite?" Kevin said, raising an eyebrow. "Name the last time politeness mattered to you?" The truth is, the Group creeps me out. Alice was right, you could see Group-ness about them, in their eyes and expressions. It was somewhat freaky and I didn't like to think about what the Group did to make them like that. Unfortunately, telling Kevin that something scared or freaked me out was sort of like walking up to a hungry shark, stabbing yourself, and going 'It's okay. I'm edible. Go ahead, eat me.' Definitely not happening. Instead, I did what any mature person would do: I stuck my tongue out at him and glared. Alice laughed at my dorky expression. "Ev, you're so funny sometimes." "Of course I am," I said. "Other people laughing at me is what I live for." "Why are you saying that like its sarcasm?" Kevin asked. "All you ever do is try to make people laugh at you." "Wrong, Kevin, I try to make myself laugh at people, because that's just the kind of compassionate, caring person I am." I shook my blonde bangs out of my eyes. "Anyway, this is a really stupid discussion. Alice, what are you doing to your poor, innocent locker?" "I'm looking for my eraser," Alice said while madly rummaging through her locker. "I have an essay test next period." She finally leaned back and sighed. "Dammit. I think I left it on the bus. I hate the stupid city bus." "Everyone hates the stupid city bus," I agreed. "But it's super-cheap, so I think we're all just sort of stuck with it." "Ugh," Alice sighed. "Why can't we just take my parents car? No stops, no waiting, no jerking, and you could sleep in." "Because it's good for the environment," I said. While that is true (the buses run on some kind of freaky futuristic space fuel or something), it wasn't why I insist Alice take the bus with me rather than her car. The truth is, I hate her car. I hate how rich Alice is. I hate how she has the newest technology and a big house and her parents drive her everywhere but school. Like my dislike of the Group, there is no way on God's green earth that I am telling either one of my friends that. "The environment," Kevin said. "Right." Kevin always makes fun of my crappy reasons for everything. "Yo, Kev, you do realize I'm being, like, sarcastic right? Or is sarcasm too difficult for your tiny little mind to comprehend?" Kevin glared at me and didn't answer. Score. "Oh, BTW Kev," I said, suddenly remembering. Yes, I did say the letters BTW (I'm Californian, don't hate me), "do we have a history test today?" "It's a quiz about the French Revolution video we saw Monday," Kevin informed me, looking somewhat less irritated than when I usually ask him about school. "The rise and fall of Robespierre." "Yay," I said. Because I am me, I had taken about three notes and barely paid attention to any of the video. "Can you help me? What happened?" These are magic words when it comes to Kevin Lee. He rattled off to me more facts than the video possibly could have held through the rest of biology (we were supposed to be working on some kind of technology project thing, so the class was louder than a rock concert and Kevin fit right in). The rest of the day was fairly simple- I took the test in history, yapped on with Alice and Kevin and a couple other friends at lunch, and then fell asleep again through French (god, that class is boring). Then we came to sixth period. Sixth period is my elective class, where I take Speech and Debate. It's the only class in the school that isn't separated by track, and thus is the only class Alice and I have together. I walked into the loud classroom and sat down. Speech and Debate is essentially a class for a stack of A and B track underclassmen that like to argue until they've made their point. In other words, room 304 is probably the loudest in the state. I sat down next to Alice and we talked about school briefly until the teacher came in. He seemed much more to-the-point than he had that morning. "Good afternoon, class. I am Mr. Benk, and I will be taking over this class for the rest of the year. So I understand that this is the Speech and Debate class?" He didn't wait for the class to answer. "I taught English, History, and Speech and Debate at Cal Middle School last year-" "Boo!" Me and a couple other more rambunctious kids called out. "Awesome!" similar Cal students screeched. "Sutter Scores, Cal Crashes!" I yelled out. "Sutter Sucks, Cal Conquers!" my friend Eric yelled out, a former Cal student. As you probably figured out by now (unless you're as stupid as Kevin or something), Sutter and Cal have an intense rivalry. "All right, calm down," Mr. Benk said, grinning. "We all know Cal is the greatest school of all time, there's no need to have an argument about it." "I beg to differ!" I called out. "Quiet, Eve. Now, I believe we have a competition-" "Comp," Eric corrected. "A comp in three weeks. Signups went up at 5:30 am. Who already signed up?" About half the class raised their names. As I expected, monologue was filled, and poetic interpretation and persuasive had one spot left. Mr. Benk straightened out the rest of the class in a few minutes and gave instruction for us all to dissipate and work on our events. Improv kids, as always, were sentenced to the outside hall. I walked out there with Eric and Daniel and Sarah, the same kids that always do improv. "Okay," Sarah said. "Let's talk for just a minute. Ev, your topic is…rain." I paused for a moment, trying to come up with a statement about rain. "I hate rain," I started. In real life I'm ambivalent towards rain, but if you're going to write a good improv it's best to either completely hate or completely love whatever topic you get. "Rain can just make even the simplest things hopelessly annoying and complicated. Like, have you ever tried to take the city bus in the middle of a rainstorm? Trust me, it is not pretty. My friend and I were trying to get a bus home one day, and I swear, there must have been at least two that drove right past us. I mean, once it rains, the entire city wants to take a delightful ride on the bus, apparently. So once we were so desperate to get the bus ride my friend hacked into the holographic thingy they have to post messages- she still refuses to tell me how to do that- and made it say that the 64 bus had been cancelled. So then we had a space on the bus, but we were so freaking wet the bus driver refused to let us home, and we had to walk like three miles home. In the rain. It was not fun. "And then there's my stupid brother. Every time he reads that it's going to rain, the kid lights up like a firecracker and races over to get a stack of cups. Then he stacks up all of these stupid cups right outside my door to catch the rain, so I have to run an obstacle course in the morning just to get out of my freaking room. Oh, and here's another thing: when it rains, I have to screw with this thing on my pool so the water will drain away and not flood my backyard, right? Well, being the genius I am, I forgot to do that once. I don't know how exactly pools work, but apparently the entire contents decided that the best place in the world was the grass in my backyard rather than the actual pool. "My grass still refuses to grow." I turned to Sarah, who was still laughing. "Was that a minute?" "Who cares," she said, laughing. "Dude, that was hilarious." "You have a pool and a dog?" Daniel asked me, looking confused. "Did you move or something?" Daniel's still somewhat new to improv and can be kind of stupid sometimes. "No way. I just sort of made up random stuff." Eric pretended to cough and choke. "The- sarcasm," he choked out. "The- Cali- accent- it's…killing…me.." I laughed. "How can you live with yourself, Eric?" "I do nuh-awt, have a Cali accent, Ev, like, OMG!" he said, in an exaggerated accent before grinning. "So, can I go next?" "Yes," I said. "Your topic is California." Eric went on for about two minutes about how awesome California is and all the crazy things you could do there (naturally, of course, none of these things were actually possible). Eric is my main rival for improv: his speeches are usually more creative and funny than mine, but he usually freezes up at about four minutes. I'm adept at forming long, senseless monologues and I could probably go on for ten minutes. We laughed through our crazy improv speeches through the rest of the period until school let out. I love Speech and Debate class. We stayed after the bell for a while so I didn't meet up with Alice. Eric followed me after the bell instead. "Transit center?" he asked. I nodded. I didn't know Eric super well- I'd met him several times last year at debate tournaments, but he went to Cal and I to Sutter so most of our encounters contained more sarcasm and "Sutter Scores, Cal Conquers" (never doubt the power of two sarcastic, loud, and obnoxious students from rival schools to make Columbia hear them) than anything else. I'd gotten to know him better this year, though. "I take the 82 bus," he said. "It doesn't show up until three-thirty, it's so annoying. What about yours?" "Fifty-five," I answered. "It comes by at 3:10. So you're at transit stop 5? How come I never see you there?" "I usually stay at school until about, oh, maybe three-ten?" He laughed. "Anyway, I guess I'll see you tomorrow." "See you." I paused at the cement part in front of the school, wondering where Alice was. Had she left for the transit center already? I finally saw her near another wing of the school, talking to the Group girl she'd seen earlier. Oh, god. How many times was she going to talk to this girl? By the time I walked over, the Group girl had left. That was fast, I thought to myself. Maybe the Group kids really are chickens and they can fly. "Alice," I started. "Who was that-" "Hey, Ev, there you are!" Alice said. We turned the other way and started walking to the transit center. "I couldn't find you after class. Were you talking to Eric?" "Yeah," I said. "But who were you-" "What were you talking about?" I sighed impatiently. "Improv and buses, I guess? Look, what about you? Were you talking to that Group girl?" Alice shrugged. "I said hi and she said hi back. Why? You look upset. Is something wrong?" "Oh, no, Alice, nothing's wrong. What could possibly be wrong? I mean, other than the fact that you're talking to a girl from the Group? I mean, how could that be bad? Why would that make me upset?" "I think you're overreacting," Alice answered calmly. "I pointed her out this morning and said hi this afternoon. It's nothing to freak out over." I sighed. My parents had been sort of crappy parents, but they'd managed to drill one unfaltering message into me: Never mess with the Group. Ever. Don't talk to them, don't think about them, don't even look at them. Forget your homework, skip your chores, be evil and nasty and vicious, but never mess with the Group. Ever. "Please just try to ignore them from now on, okay? The Group is bad news. Just leave them alone." Alice sighed. "Alright, alright. I'll leave the Group alone. But I don't see what's so bad about it." "What's so bad about it?" I half-shrieked. "How about the fact that anyone who's involved in the Group, no matter how indirectly, has their life ruined? How about that? Does that satisfy you?" "Ok, ok. Yes. It satisfies me. The Group is bad." Alice rolled her eyes. "Can we talk about comps now?" "Yes. What's your topic?" Because Alice is Alice, those three words are enough to warrant a deluge of facts and statistics. I let her go on for a while, not really listening, still worrying about the Group. I still didn't understand how Alice could be so blasé about it, and I really didn't understand why she even wanted to talk to the Group girl at all. Alice stopped a little while after a we got on the bus. "Hey, Ev? Why are you so quiet?" I shrugged. "I'm fine." "No you're not." "I'm fine," I repeated. "Hey, do you think Carlos will do improv this time around? He got second place last time." We went on about comps for a while after that, and the conversation stayed blissfully away from my thoughts and feelings. I made it home somewhat later, and walked in banging on the door. "Yo, I'm home!" The house was as quit as usual. The kitchen was to the right and my brother was seated at our big round kitchen table. Brian looked up. He's twelve and in seventh grade. "Hi, Evangeline!" he called out. "I'm doing homework." Brian is the only person on the planet than can call me Evangeline without getting a smackdown. Like, the president of the United States could refer to me by Evangeline and I'd hit him in the face for it. "Awesome," I said, sitting down next to him. "Math?" "Yeah. In have to memorize how to derive the quadratic formula by Friday. I hate memorizing! I'm so bad at it!" "Don't stress," I said. "All you have to do is complete the square on the A x squared formula thingy." I stood up. "Imma get a snack and I'll help you with it, alright?" "Ok. Thanks, Lina." Brian also calls me Lina sometimes. I walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. As usual, there was nothing but synth-food left. Synth food is kind of new, but caught on very quickly as diet food and now just really cheap food. My family is kind of poor, I mean, nothing too drastic, but not rich enough to ignore synth stuff altogether. I grabbed two stick-like things and tossed one at Brian at the table. "Here. Brian, enjoy some of the finest delicacies the world has to offer." Brian scrutinized his synth-stick. "What is this?" "Petrified tar, mixed in with the feet of a chicken and plastic poison ivy for taste." Brian laughed. "No, actually it doesn't taste that bad." We ate the synth-food and I tried to explain completing the square to Brian. I'm not the world's greatest tutor, but I'm not horrible, and I can usually explain stuff fairly well. I also like to make up crazy stories to explain boring things like factoring or respiration or something like that. After this gratifying review session I left Brian at the table and walked into the adjacent living room to play on the main computer. I originally sort of intended to work on this boring biology project where we design a website about some genetics ethical issue and then give a speech on the issue. Luckily, Kevin was my partner on the project so the likelihood of me actually having to do this project was very small. I logged onto gmail quickly enough. Kevin: Hey Eve. Eve: Hey Kev. What's up? Kevin: math hoework Eve: Your spelling skills are impressive. Kevin: Why thank you. Eve: Ugh, I hate math homework Kevin: You hate everything Eve: Wow, Kev, you really do catch on fast! Eve: So…how much of the website have you finished? The projects due on Monday, right? Kevin: Website? What website? Eve: Uh…you know…the bio project? Kevin: What bio project? Eve: YOU FORGOT ABOUT THE BIO PROJECT???????? Kevin: Sucker. Kevin: I was kidding. Eve: You are an evil little boy. Kevin: Outside of Sarcasia, I'm almost done. Eve: Please do not mock my hometown. Kevin: Sorry, Eve, that's not happening anytime soon. Kevin: Anyway, can you do the speech? Eve: But…I don't know what it would be about… Kevin You haven't done any research, have you. Eve: No! Eve: Of course I have! Eve: I never blow off projects or refuse to do them! Kevin: Suuuuuuuure. Eve: The way you elongated that word reassures me that you believe me. Kevin: Good, it should. Kevin: Do you even know what our topic is? Eve: Uh…. Eve: Agricultural genetic engineering or something? Kevin: Your dedication is clearly present. Kevin: I sent you the link to the website; just write your speech based on that. But make sure you memorize it, because I do NOT want to give a speech in front of the class. Eve: Why not? Kevin: I don't like speaking in front of people. Eve: Oh yeah, that's right. Eve: making it even stranger that most of your friends are in Speech and Debate… Kevin: Yup. Eve: Kevin, what do you know about the Group? Kevin: Er Kevin: I don't know Kevin: They act kind of creepy? Eve: Have you ever wanted to join it? Kevin: Um…no… Kevin: Why are you asking? Eve: Alice was talking to a Group girl today. Kevin: Really? Why? Eve: I don't know. She said she was saying hi. Eve: Do you think Alice would ever get involved in the Group? Kevin: Let me put it this way: If someone asked me which of my friends was the most likely to join the Group, it would be Alice. Eve: Well, yeah, but that's just because you don't have any friends to pick from. Kevin: Wow, that hurt. Eve: It was supposed to. I tried to type something else in, but my stupid brother started pounding on my desk. "Leeeeeeeenaaaaaaa," he whined. "I need to use the computer." "Briiiiiiiiiiiiaaaaaaaaaan," I mimicked. "No, you don't. Go away." "Why can't you use your netbook?" he whined. "That's yours. This one is everyone's." "Well, my netbook sucks, and so do you. It's like you were made for each other!" I turned around to face him. "Now go!" Don't get me wrong, I love my little brother and all, but he has the art of whining down more exactly than I have the precise art of sarcasm. And sometimes you just really want to have the main computer all to yourself. "Leeeenaaaa," he whined again before sitting down on the floor. "Fine. I'm going to just sit here and annoy you until you get off." I glared at him. Unfortunately, when Brian says he's going to sit there and annoy you for a while, he is really not kidding. These are battles I never win. "You suck, Brian," I said angrily, logging off with a flourish and dragging my netbook-carrying backpack up to my room. "You are a mean little boy." Brian cackled. "I am invincible." See, just because he likes to do homework and everything does not mean that he shares none of my DNA. The rest of the afternoon was uneventful; I got bored of homework after a while and went outside to hang out with a couple kids in my neighborhood. I got back around six and went to have dinner with both of my parents. Family time. Oh, this was always my favorite time of day. "Did you finish your homework, Eve?" my parents asked me. "Homework is always number one on my list of priorities," I said through a mouthful of spaghetti. "Just like it was always yours." They didn't have tracks when my parents were in high-school, but if they did they would have been C-track all the way. My mother swallowed and went to the nicer child. "What about you, Brian?" Brian slurped up about half his plate of spaghetti. Both of us have the table manners of small children. "Yeah. Well, almost. I have a project due Monday." He turned to me. "Lina, will you help me?" "No, Brian," I said sarcastically. "I never help you with your projects. Mom always does all that crazy decorating stuff, not me." Brian stared at me, perplexed, for a second. Then it dawned on him. "Oh, you're being sarcastic." "Sarcasm is a fluid language," I answered. "How did school go today?" My dad asked. "The same as always," I answered, twirling spaghetti around on my fork. "Slept in class, stole Kevin's notes, mouthed off to teachers. You know, the usual shtik." My parents never seem to know what to do when I say stuff like that. Brian got up first. "I'm finished," he announced, leaving the room. I wasn't surprised he'd eaten in two minutes; Brian's game plan with eating is always "see food, shovel as much of it into mouth as humanly possible." I got up soon after him. I hate dinnertime. Eve: Whaddup, Alice? Alice: The us. Uz. Usze. However you say that. Eve: Sometimes us really sophisticated people say "the usual." Alice: So, what's up with you? Eve: Escaping dinner. Eve: If you told your parents you slept in class, stole your friends notes, and mouthed off to teachers, what would they say? Alice: I feel like I've never heard this question before. Alice: If they thought I was serious, I'd probably be grounded or something. Eve: But you are the model A-track kid, so that never happens, of course. Alice: Nopety Nopety No. Eve: You sound like you're four years old when you say it like that. Alice: Oh, BTW, I have a message for you. Eve: Yeah? Alice: Kevin told me to tell you "If she comes online at any point in time and starts chattig with you, tel her to stop being so frustratingly azy, go to the bio webste, and start writing the spech." Alice: That's copied and pasted. Alice: Hence the numerous spelling errors. Eve: I have a message to give you. Eve: If Kevin wants me to actually work on these projects, he should make his website less boring and stupid. Alice: Ok, I'll tell him that. Alice: I love being the messenger. Eve: Excellent. Eve: I still don't understand entirely what your speech is about. Eve: But have you started it yet? Alice: It's not rocket science. Eve: Maybe not, but it sure as hell sounds like it. I arrived at the transit center about five minutes before the bus came and sat down on one of the various benches to wait for Alice. She came just as the bus arrived. Her parents drive her to the transit center, but unfortunately there's no way to drive really close to the stops and you have to run a little bit. I pretended to look in my pocket for my pass and showed it to the driver just as Alice showed up. "You are so late," I said to her once we'd both sat down. "I was talking to someone," she said, smiling and grinning like it was the ultimate excuse. I waited for her to finish. "Well?" I said after a few seconds. "Who? Why?" Alice shrugged and didn't answer. I hate it when people act all secretive like that. It makes me want to grab them by the shoulders, shake them back and forth, and yell "WHAT ARE YOU NOT TELLING ME???? WHY????" As you can imagine, this is almost never a good idea. "Hello?" I said, shaking my hand in front of Alice's face. "Alice? Who were you talking to?" I asked her in a singsong voice. Alice laughed and pushed my hand away. "Ah, just forget it, Ev." Sometimes I think she clams up like this for the sole purpose of annoying the hell out of me. We talked a little bit on the way to school and more at our lockers, about all kind of stuff: my brother, rain, comps, school, parents, whatever. I swear, I can get into the weirdest conversations with people. Kevin was forced to be quiet in English as Mr. Benk was actually teaching us about something halfway interesting, but he was waiting for me with a grim face in biology. "You are not a happy camper," I predicted as the teacher sent us off to our bio project partners. Kevin shrugged. "Whatev, Ev. Maybe next time I'll just abandon you and work with someone who will actually do something." "You're so unconvincing when you try to threaten me." Kevin scowled as I laughed somewhat. "Oh, come on. I looked at the website, didn't I?" "Yeah, for what, two seconds?" "No way. It was longer than that!" "You do realize I can track when you go on there if you're logged into Google, right?" Technology is getting way too complicated for me. "You are evil little boy," I told him after a few seconds before sighing. "I promise I will work on it today." He glared at me, not really convinced. "You can come to my house and make sure I work," I said. "Okay," he said. "It's probably a good idea anyway," I said. "Wait outside on that concrete thing after school, alright? My transit stop is different than yours." "Sure, whatever." He tried to explain what the heck our project was actually on but I wasn't completely focusing. Man, this project was boring. Alice was not at lunch that day. "Where's Alice?" I asked, sitting down next to Kevin. Whitney and Sarah were there as well. "Who knows," Sarah said, unwrapping something. Sarah is quite smart but almost as lazy as me, so she's in B-track as well. She says her parents are threatening to send her back to China if she doesn't make A-track this year. Having met her parents, I'm still not entirely sure they were kidding. I sat down and pulled my pizza out of my backpack. Pizza, I will assure you, is God's greatest gift to mankind. I saw Eric walking by and he came to sit down with us. "Hey, Eve. Hey, Sarah." "I'm Whitney," Whitney said to introduce herself. "Kevin." "Did you see Alice?" I asked him impulsively. He had fourth period with her. "Uh, no, actually. She's not here today." "I saw her this morning, though. She takes the same bus as me. I know she was there." "Well, she wasn't in Chem." He watched with odd fascination as Whitney ate her lunch. "Uh, is that synth food or something?" "The rice is real, the sauce is synth." She paused to eat. "My family is kind of poor, okay, not everyone can afford to eat real food all the time." "Psh. Synth food is fine with me." I pushed my blond bangs back. "Tastes good, cheap, healthy, what could be better?" "Synth food is creepy," Kevin said. "And it's creepy how…how ubiquitous it is." "What I think is creepy is how you actually use words like ubiquitous," I cut in. Kevin glared at me. "Seriously, though. Like, the other day I was looking for non-synthed out cereal, right? And I must have gone through three shelves of cereal and there was only one with nothing synthed-out in it, and it costs three times as much as the others. My mom made me get the synthed-out kind instead." "They synth everything now," Eric said. "Especially sugar and corn and wheat." "It's creepy how quickly it came," Sarah added. "Like, my family hates synthed-out rice, right? And it used to be that we could buy this huge bag of real rice at the grocery store we always go to, like, a year ago maybe? But the bag got smaller and smaller, and now all they sell is synthed-out rice. So we have to go all the way across town just to buy real rice." "I don't know why they even make synthed-out rice," Whitney said. "It tastes horrible." "My family doesn't eat rice," I chimed in, "but we buy a ton of synthed-out stuff. I think the only real food we eat is the fruit we have in our backyard." "That can't be good," Kevin said. "I mean, what if the companies stopped making it for whatever reason? We couldn't possibly get access to enough non-synth food fast enough. America could starve." "Not just America," Eric said. "It's spreading to other countries. Like, the EU used to have some kind of tax on synthed-out food to make it more expensive than real food, but they got rid of that a couple weeks ago. Now they have the same rules as America- it has to be labeled but it isn't taxed at any special rate." "The synth food companies hate those laws," Sarah said. "I hear they're trying to get rid of the labeling thing. Something about it being 'substantially equivalent' or whatever." She blew her crayola-red bangs out of her eyes. "You know, like they have on GM food? That way it isn't labeled." "Dude, that would suck," Whitney said. "That would really suck," Kevin added. "Majorly," a voice came from behind me. I turned around. Alice. "Hey Alice!" I greeted. "Where were you?" Alice shrugged and sat down, tucking her hair behind her ear. She had a blue streak about an inch to the side of her face. The rest of her hair seemed darker, rather than the medium brown she usually had. "Alice, did you dye your hair or something?" I asked. "Is that where you were before?" "Yeah," she said, unwrapping her sandwich. "Is that bad?" "Well," I said. "We all know how I can have unnaturally high standards for behavior in school…" There were snickers. "But something tells me that ditching class to dye your hair still seems somewhat suspicious. You hearin' me?" Alice glared at me. "You ditched Chem to dye your hair?" Eric said, surprised. Apparently he hadn't figured that out until now. "Yeah. Now can we just shut up about it?" Eric seemed somewhat surprised by this. I was worried, once again, about the Group. The only thing all Group members had in common was that they always dyed their hair- they were all different tracks, different races, different parenting. But they always dyed their hair. We had all different theories for this- it was "real" hair dye that marked them as part of the Group forever; their "leader" dyed their hair to mark them as part of the Group, and, most outlandish, the dye was really mind-control to keep them as part of the Group and never talk to anyone else. But whatever the reason, they always did it. Alice hated hair dye. And now she was ditching class to…go with the Group…dye her hair… This didn't sound good to me at all. What would I do if Alice joined the Group? What could I do? I went to Speech and Debate in sixth period, and, miraculously enough, Alice was actually there! She was still somewhat angry-looking but she talked a little bit about comps. What was wrong with her? We practiced improv for a while but after we'd all given one short speech we went off track fairly quickly. "Alice is starting to freak me out," Sarah commented as a charming conversation opener. "I can't believe she dyed her hair." "I can't believe she ditched Chem," Eric added. "Maybe she joined the Group," I said in a low voice. "Dyeing your hair and acting differently are the only real signs." "But-" "Improv?" Daniel interrupted, surprising all of us. He was a pretty forgettable person: quiet, average speeches, a very normal A-track kid. He was the only improv regular I didn't know well. "Do we have to sit here and gossip? Speeches? Improv? Crazy imaginary things that don't really exist?" "What's with you?" Sarah asked bluntly. Sarah has a very sleek, business-like personality and appearance, and she can be very blunt sometimes. Daniel muttered something really quiet that sounded sort of like "Oh, forget it," "I hate gossip," and "Io fshgis ih" There was a pause. "What?" I asked, totally not able to understand that. "You speakin' Swahili or something?" Sarah shrugged. "Whatever. Let's just work on improv. Eve, your topic is Easter. Go." "Easter. Uh, ok." My parents are Atheist and sort of ignore all holidays other than our birthdays, Christmas, and usually Halloween (my parents are festive people), so I know next to nothing about Easter. So I used an old improv trick: I made up a new holiday. "Hello, everyone. So, today I am gong to tell you about an amazing holiday called Easter. Now I know you were expecting a speech on that thing in spring with candy and church and parental lies and all that kind of pizzazz, but I know about an entirely different holiday. Now, this holiday lasts thirteen days, from January 1st to January 13th. To celebrate, people, uh…everyone between thirteen and eighteen runs out into their neighborhood and kidnaps all the adults! They tie them up with duct tape and put them in a big dog pen in the back of their house! They have thirteen days to do this, right. And on the thirteenth day, whichever house has the most kidnapped adults wins a big prize. Now, this holiday is really fun for a couple of reasons. First of all, you're kidnapping adults! Is there any way that isn't fun? Secondly, sometimes they'll have really crazy stuff happen, you know, like a thunderstorm that rains down keys and ducks, or the streets will be full of ostriches or something like that…" I went on like that for a while, talking about all the crazy things people do on this imaginary holiday while Sarah, Eric, and Daniel laughed like crazy at the total randomness Easter was all about. Oh, I love improv. I waited for Alice outside class for several minutes, but apparently she had disappeared off the face of the earth or something like that because she didn't leave the classroom. I walked inside and looked around, eventually spotting Mr. Benk. He looked up from whatever he was reading. "Oh, hello Eve. Speak of the devil, and she appears, eh?" he held up an essay. "I was just grading your essay." Oh, womderful. "You mean, you're going to actually read our stuff?" I asked, just to clarify. That was not good. My essays, when I deigned to write them, were usually even more sarcastic than my regular dialogue (and you thought it wasn't possible!) "Yes. It's not really a bad essay. You came up with some very interesting ideas. I've taught this book a hundred times and I've never seen ideas like this. It would be good if you took a little more seriously, however." He put my essay down. "So, what can I do for you?" "Did anyone leave class before the bell rang? My friend didn't come out of the classroom after school." "No, I don't think so." "Wonderful. I guess she just teleported home or something." I sighed in irritation. "See you tomorrow, Mr. Benk." "See you, Eve." I looked for Alice after school but never saw her. Oh, well. I guess she was at the transit center already. I walked there with Kevin and not-really-listened while he babbled on about some book he was reading. When your two best friends are prone to long, uninteresting monologues, this is a skill that you develop beyond any other. He paused as the bus was coming up. "You're not listening to me, are you?" "No. You're kind of boring sometimes." I can be cruelly blunt, don't kill me for it. "That's just what everyone wants to hear," Kevin muttered. "Okay, okay, I'll shut up." We took another bus from that transit center directly to my house and I walked my bike home from there. As always, my parents were at work and Brian was sitting at the table doing homework. "Hey Brian. What's up?" Brian looked up. "Guess what, Lina?" he said excitedly. "I got an A on my science test!" "That's great, Brian! See, I told you that you could do it!" "Yeah. At first I couldn't remember all of the stuff, but then I remembered that crazy story about the water slide park, and I remembered all of the steps!" "That's awesome." I dumped my backpack on the floor the way I always do. "This is Kevin. You have a faint idea who he is, right?" "Hi, Kevin." "I've been here before," Kevin said tersely. "Yes, but you have a very boring and forgettable personality." Kevin sat there for a second, trying to come up with something clever, but evidently failed. "Oh, shut up." "We seriously need to work on your comebacks, my friend. Brian, you hungry?" "No, I already ate." "Great. I haven't," I said, turning to walk to the kitchen. Kevin followed me there. "So, what scrumptious synth delicacy shall we dine upon today, my dear friend?" "I don't the words 'synth' and 'delicacy' should ever be that close together. It's all just random chemicals." "Dude, you eat synth food all the time." "Yeah, I guess." He looked around. "Where are your parents?" I rolled my eyes. "We don't all live in a picture-perfect household, Kevin Lee. My parents are at work." "Is it always just you and your brother?" "Yeah. I know your parents don't trust you to be home alone with dangerous things like scissors and window cleaner, but mine are a-okay with this arrangement. And trust me, I'm even more okay with it." "So, do you have a computer?" "No, Kev. I'm online all the time because I have a telepathic connection with the stars, so I don't even need a computer." I rolled eyes again. "It's in the living room." "Lina?" Brian asked from the dining area. I turned around. "Yeah?" "Can you help me with my project?" he asked. "I want to cover a trifold board with duct tape as a background and then use colored duct tape to get the writing and pictures and title on there." "I will never, ever understand your fascination with duct tape," I said. "Please, Evangeline?" "I have to do this stupid bio project," I said angrily. "Because this bossy jerk followed me home to make sure I actually do it." "You invited me over," Kevin pointed out. "Extraneous details," I said. "I'll help you with the duct tape while Evangeline works on the bio project," Kevin offered. I shot him one of my patented call-me-that-again-and-I'll-slice-you-into-small-pieces-barbecue-them-and-sell-them-to-little-children-looks. He grinned. "Okay," Brian accepted. "Computer's up," I announced. "Finally. So what is the speech on, exactly?" Kevin walked over and stood behind me. "Um, first you might want to have the website up." "Sorry, I think that's a little on the complex side for me," I said sarcastically. "Let's try something a little easier." "Okay, so basically you want to summarize these first three parts fairly quickly," he started, gesturing to the links at the top of the page. "Click on the one that says 'Arguments.'" I clicked. "Most of the speech should be on this part, the reasons and the evidence." I scrolled down the page And scrolled some more. And some more. And then I kept scrolling. And scrolled. And- "Jesus Christ, Kevin, this is a lot of research." "We had a month to do it." "I have to say all of this?" This was not a seven minute speech. This was a seventy minute speech. "I'll be up there the whole class period!" "It's not that long," Kevin said. "Besides you want to summarize. Pick the three reasons at the top, the best evidence for those, and then combine it into a fantastically wonderful speech." "Dude," I said. "I swear, why are you not in A-track? This is crazy." Kevin gave a wan smile. "They have their reasons." So, we worked for a while: Kevin and Brian duct-taped a trifold board (That is probably one of the less-common uses for dut-tape) and I read through a mountain of stats on why genetic engineering is really great and awesome compiled by someone who apparently finds researching preferable to breathing. "Keeeeeeev," I whined, to him from across the room. "Why did you make this website so endless?" "I want an A," he said, mimicking my whiny voice. "And I wanted to torture you." "I hate you," I continued to whine. "I hate you so, so much." "What's your project on?" Brian asked, laying down duct tape in his usual perfectionist way. "We have to argue why genetic engineering is good," I said. "And Kevin apparently rewrote the World Book Encyclopedia while doing it." "I did not," Kevin refuted. "You're just surprised by the fact that sometimes people do actual work for a project, rather than just sitting around expecting everyone else to do it." "I did some of the work," I protested. "Just not…that." My mom came home after a while. "Hello, Eve, Brian," she announced. She looked at Kevin. "Who are you?" she interrogated bluntly. See, this is how you can tell that our family likes to put things delicately and politely. We're never blunt! "I'm Kevin," he said, sitting on the floor with his tiny little computer working on some English essay. "I'm working with Eve on a project for school." My mom looked down at the halfway-completed trifold board Brian had decided to postpone working on until later. "What is that?" "That's my project," Brian said from the kitchen table. "Hey, Eve, what time is it?" Kevin asked me. I checked the time on the bottom of the computer screen. "Four fifty. The bus hits my bus stop in ten minutes." "And my bus hits that transit center in like a half hour." Kevin shut down his netbook. "We have an English essay due Monday." "I know," I said. "Are you going to do it?" "Probably not." "Do your essay!" My mom called out from the kitchen. "Oh, but I'm just following your example, Mom!" I called back. I turned back to Kevin. "We have to take an excerpt from a book and diagram all the characterization in it, right?" Kevin nodded. "But I don't- Hey, Kev, could we do a monologue instead?" "I think so." This idea appealed to me. "I have a great sarcastic piece I did in class last year. That might actually be somewhat amusing." "Yeah. Anyway, see you tomorrow, Eve." "See you." On Saturday, I was trying to work on the English essay in question and had about half of it done before my boredom hit critical levels. I got on my bike and decided to go down to Alice's house. It was kind of a crappy day outside- overcast and chilly- but at least not raining. I made it to Alice's house about twenty minutes later, dumped my bike next to her garage, and rang the doorbell. Her mom answered and let me in. I found Alice in her bedroom with a candle and a stack of pictures. She was burning the pictures. With a candle. In a closed room. With long flowy sleeves. Near a candle flame. This was so wrong on so many levels it overwhelmed me for a second. I shook my head. "Alice? Uh, what are you doing and why?" "Burning the pictures," she said in a morbid voice. "Why on earth are you burning pictures?" I said. "I mean, I may not be the champion of safety-conscious behavior, but even I know that burning pictures in a closed room is not a wise idea. There are chemicals in those things, you know!" "I don't care." I blew out the candle, took away the pictures, and opened the window. "Alice, you're starting to freak me out." "Give me the pictures!" "Why are you burning them?" "Because I don't want them anymore!" She tried to reach them, but I'm taller and faster than her and managed to step away fast enough. "Then throw them away!" I exclaimed. "Don't burn them! Just rip them up and throw them in the trash! It's not rocket science!" "They want me to burn them." Why do I have to hang out with the most frustrating people at school? I thought to myself angrily. Okay. Deep breath. "Alice, who is 'they'? And why do they want you to burn pictures?" Alice shrugged. Is this normal teenage behavior? I wondered to myself. Do most teens decide to hang out in their room on Saturday and burn pictures for no real reason? This had to do be related to the Group in some way or another. Alice shook her bangs out of her eyes, a habit Whitney started and we'd all inevitably caught. "Whatever, Eve. Let's just put the pictures down and forget about them. So, whaddaya wanna do today?" I shrugged. "I dunno. Not work on my English essay? That was my main plan." "Okay, cool." Unlike Kevin, Alice gave up trying to make me do my homework a long time ago. "Wanna go down to the park and play volleyball?" "Sounds rockin' to me," I affirmed. When it comes to me and Alice, "playing volleyball" is really more like "screwing around with a volleyball trying to hit people with it or chuck it at the fence," but we have fun anyway. After we'd racked up a couple thousand dollars in hospital and construction damages, I ventured to bring up the burning-pictures-with-a-candle-for-strange-reasons. Am I stupid? Yes. Am I blunt? Yes. Am I persistent as hell? When I want to be. "Alice, I know you were doing something for the Group with the candle," I said. "What and why?" Yeah, I'm really not one to get all fancy with the questions. Alice glared at me, her newly darkened bangs hiding half her face. "They told me to burn the past," she said in a slow, angry, enunciated voice. Glad to know those dictation exercises in Speech class were finally taking effect! "That's wonderful," I said. "That's really completely wonderful and not creepy at all. But maybe you should try doing so figuratively rather than literally taking a candle and trying to burn- uh, Alice, what are you doing?" "They told me to burn the past," she repeated, staring at me with a lighter in her hand. Oh god, oh god…please don't tell me she's going to light me on fire. Basically, we were up against some kind of levy, levi, levvy, however you spell that, with a chain link fence blocking me in two directions. There were pine trees everywhere and dry pine needles on the ground spreading in the other two directions. I could either run up and over the levy and try to get under or around the fence in time, or run along with all of the dry pine needles and towards the sidewalk a little over a hundred yards away. How fast do those things burn again? I wondered again as Alice slowly brought the lighter down and lit the dry pine needles on fire. If you have ever wondered how easily it is to run away from a line of fire coming at you from dry pine needles while your psycho Group friend sits there and laughs (how she managed to not get burned is still beyond me), let me assure you that a) it is not fun and b) it is very scary. The pine needles went slower than I expected because there was wetness about an inch down, but that honestly didn't make me feel much better. I made it to the sidewalk largely unscathed; the rubber on my shoes was pretty screwed up and the bottom of my jeans a little ashy but I hadn't gotten lit on fire so I was fairly pleased with myself. The thing about screwy-in-the-head-but-not-totally-part-of-the-Group kids is that they are not the best planners. Alice didn't get burned herself- she is a master of climbing fences and had scaled that one faster than you could say "is she the one that just lit half the park on fire?" and took off running. I knew that if you ran along that dirt path you eventually came to the backyard of this one house that's been on sale forever. You slide through the slats on the fence that borders the dirt-pathed levy, open up the door that separates her back yard from her front yard, then casually walk over her driveway out onto the sidewalk. Meanwhile, I was tired and not feeling my greatest. I got my bike and biked back to my house- sort of a long ride but nothing too frightening. I walked in. "Hey, Lina!" Brian called from the living room to the left of the kitchen. From the enormous racket he was making, I deduced he was playing video games. I have skills like that. "Hey Brian," I answered back before crashing in my room. I was not in a good mood. I was tired, my best friend had definitely joined the Group, she'd tried to light me on fire, and at least ten people saw me running from the destruction, and I still had to do that English essay. This needed to go on Facebook. I went onto gmail and changed my status to "How was your day? Mine was great, except for the getting lit on fire part!" Kevin responded instantly. Kevin: You WHAT?????? Kevin: Why were you lit on FIRE? Kevin: Are you being metaphorical or something? Eve: No, I'm not. Kevin: Oh god, are you okay? Eve: Yeah. Eve: So, I went over to Alice's house today, and I see her burning pictures with a candle, right? Kevin: That is neither safe nor normal… Eve: Oh really? I thought it was just me! Eve: Anyway, we went over to the park, and Alice takes a lighter an lights these dry pine needles on fire. Kevin: What the… Kevin: What is she, crazy? Eve: I don't know. Eve: She said the Group told her to burn away her past. I guess I count as part of her past. Kevin: So what happened after the pine needles? Did you get burned? Eve: No. Eve: I ran across the field. Kevin: Oh. Eve: My shoes and jeans are pretty messed up, though. I'm going to need to go buy some more tomorrow. Kevin: You only have one pair of shoes? Eve: I have one pair of black Converse. They are entirely multipurpose. Kevin: My sister has like twenty pairs of shoes. Eve: Well, your sister is an idiot. Eve: Although she's related to you, so I should have known that already. Kevin: Oh, you're so funny. Eve: I know. Kevin: Did you finish your essay? Eve: I'm halfway done. Yay! Eve: Aren't you proud of me? Kevin: Yeah, sure. Kevin: I am speechless with pride. Eve: Thanks! Eve: I love this monologue. Eve: It's actually a piece from a book..Carmen the Chosen or something Kevin: I've heard of that book. Eve: Really? What's it about? Kevin: My sister read it. Kevin: She said it was an unoriginal story disguised by enough sarcasm to kill someone. Eve: Sounds like my kind of book. Kevin: Yes, it does. Eve: I hope Alice doesn't light the bus on fire tomorrow. Kevin: Don't worry about it. Kevin: She's already attacked you, she won't try to again. Eve: How do you know? Kevin: I'm psychic like that. Eve: Oh, I'm sure you are. Kevin: Anyway, I have to go. Kevin: See you tomorrow. Eve: cu I sighed and turned some music, trying to drown out my brother's stupid video game. Unfortunately, the game refused to die. "Brian!" I yelled out. "Turn that thing down!" "Make me, Lina!" he yelled back. "You turn that thing down or you'll regret it for the rest of your life!" I shrieked out. "I can't hear anything!" Brian did not seem to find this worthy of a response. I sighed angrily, slammed my door, and decided to watch some TV, mostly out of sheer boredom. Because my TV is from the Dark Ages and can only get satellite signals rather than internet channels, the first station I came upon was the local news. Like anyone watches that. I did watch it this time around, however, because I was on it. The chick with the microphone was running her mouth about a "mysterious fire" that was "miraculously contained" and was possibly related to "Group involvement". They had a quick shot of me running like hell, too, as well as this one lady with a stroller trying to protect her baby or whatever. Aw. How sweet. I shut it off and decided to watch a movie. Because all of my technology came out, like, before I was born, I have a VHS player and I can't stream anything. The most recent movie I have is from, like 2005. It's ridiculous. However, there's a super-cheap movie store down the street that sells old VHS tapes and DVD's and stuff, so I have a pretty substantial collection. I was halfway through Men in Black (that movie taught me some new words) when Brian came tromping in and whining and doing all of the other things annoying little brothers do. "Lina, where's Mom?" "Who cares?" "But I need to tell her something!" "Yeah, well, you're going to want to rent an enormous elephant to come in so that you'll actually catch her attention." Discussion of parents always makes me sour. I wonder how long it will take Brian to learn the same lesson I did. "But Lina-" "She doesn't care, Brian!" I snapped. "Now will you either shut your mouth or go away so I can watch this movie?" "You're so mean, Lina!" "You're so annoying, Brian!" "Lina-" "Go away!" The next morning, we were greeted with the doorbell ringing at about ten am. I was the only one awake. I threw on some jeans and slid down the hallway and opened the door. "Hey, what's up?" Then I saw who it was. Alice. My expression, I assure you, was not a happy one. "Oh, hello, my pyromanic friend. Did you come to burn me or my pictures this time?" "I'm not burning anyone," Alice insisted. "And I'm really sorry about yesterday. I don't know what the deal was. I'm really, really sorry and I want you to forgive me." "I know what the deal is," I said in a hard voice. "The deal is the Group. You're joining the Group, you have joined the Group, whatever!" "I-" "I told you not to talk to that girl!" I said in a very loud voice. "I told you to stay away from the group! I told you they would ruin your life! And here you are, not even officially part of it, and you've burned your pictures and the park and you tried to burn me! Do you know what the Group does, Alice? Do you know what they do to people, to society? Do you know how destructive the Group is? They don't want you to destroy a park. They don't want you to destroy a picture. They want you to destroy yourself, me, everyone around you! The Group is destruction! Total, complete, relentless psychological destruction!" I took a deep breath after that rather long rant. "Eve," Alice said in a soft voice. "Please listen to me. The Group…they want you and your family. I need to tell you something. Please, can I come in?" Now, my family, I know, has a long, tumultuous, and difficult relationship with the Group. We like to screw the Group over. The Group likes to screw us over. I was under the impression that I knew everything about my family's history, but if I've learned anything about my family it's that we can take something already long, tumultuous, and difficult and multiply all that by a million. I let Alice in. "Talk," I said in a short voice. "I don't know exactly what you did," Alice said, "but the Group is not happy. There are two leaders. One wants to kill you. She says you're dangerous and she wants to just kill you and be done with it. The other one…I don't get it exactly, but he wants to completely crush you. He hates you. He wants to take every characteristic you have and completely smash it." "Sounds like my kind of guy," I said sarcastically. Completely squash my personality? Yeah, whatever. Maybe he was the counselor who have me ADHD meds too. "Eve, I'm serious. The Group is after you." "Yeah, Alice. Remember how I was the one saying 'the Group is bad news; you should leave them alone; they're completely psycho'? Remember how you ere the one that refused to believe me?" "Listen to me, Eve. The Group is there for a reason, and if they cause some destruction- like in a park- no one will care. But if the leaders of the Group order someone killed or kidnapped, they could get…dissolved, I guess. Make it difficult for them to get to you." "What, forever?" "Stay away from Group kids." "I already do that, unlike someone else I know." Alice sighed. "The Group kids…they do something to them to make them…I don't know, screwy in the head-" "Oh really? And here I thought Group kids robbed stores and burned things down just because. My mistake." "Listen to me, Eve! Don't just sit there making sarcastic comments, listen to me!" "Alice, the sarcastic comments show you that I am listening." Alice seemed somewhat irritated by this. "Look. Just…stay away from the Group, okay? They'll change you completely. Totally and completely." "This is not new information, Alice." Alice gave an irritated little sigh. "Fine. Whatever." She stood up, muttered an irritated 'bye' and was out the door. I sat there for a second. This completely confirmed it: Alice had joined the Group. This was probably her last trip into sanity. If I ever talked to her again, she would be a piece of the Group: no Alice left. It was not a charming thought. Alice had been my best friend since I was little; the only girl I knew that would ever put up with my personality for an extended period of time. And now she was part of the Group. The Group took her. The Group takes everything. I stomped back into my room and sat in my chair. I haven't cried since I was, you know, tiny, but when I get upset I'll just kind of sit there and stare and try not to fling something at the wall. The latter is harder than it really should be. So I was sitting there, staring up a storm, when Brian came walking in. "You woke me up," he accused. "Go away!" I half-yelled. "Lina…" "I'm not in the mood, Brian!" He came by and sat on the floor near my chair. I glared at him. I wanted him to just go away. "Alice joined the Group, didn't she?" he said, hitting the nail right on the head. "She…well…yes, she joined the group. The Group takes everything! They ruin your life, they ruin everyone's life!" "Maybe Alice wanted to join the Group," Brian said. "Some people like it." Oh, I was so not in the mood for Brian's careful philosophic thinking. The roup was bad, the Group was horrible, and he sat here saying "oh, maybe Aice wanted to join it." How could Brian know? He was just a little kid. "Go away, Brian!" "Maybe she'll come back from the Group," Brian said. "There was a girl at my school that joined the Group. But she came back yesterday, and she's okay. Maybe Alice will be one of the ones that only goes for a little while." I shook my head. "Brian, the Group doesn't just give people up like that. They want everyone they can get. That girl probably failed in her initiation." "Initiation?" "Yeah. In order to join the Group you have to do something crazy so they'll let you in. Sometimes people don't do it or they don't do it right so they don't join." "Maybe Alice will fail her initiation." I shook my head. "No way. She burned down half the park; I think they'll let her in." "You know she joined the Group?" "Yeah." "The Group is bad news," he said, kind of mocking my overt Californian accent. "Lina, would you ever join the Group?" "I wouldn't join the Group if someone held a gun to my head. I'd rather have them pull the trigger." "Will everyone at school know?" "Yeah. I don't know what the Group does but you can tell when someone joins or their friend joins or something like that." Brian sighed. "I'm going back to bed. You woke me up way too early." "My most sincere apologies." Alice was not present on Monday. Eric, Daniel, Sarah and I got to work during Speech and Debate and made an effort to practice as much as possible because the competition was that Saturday. I stayed over at Sarah's house on Friday because she lived a few blocks away from the competition rather across the city like me. We had a reasonably good time. I missed Alice desperately. She was supposed to be my best friend, and now there was the very real possibility of never seeing her again. Ever. On Saturday we walked to the competition together, coming up with random topics like "Burritos" "Blondes" "iPods" "VHS Players" and the like. We joined up with the other improv kids, tortured those from other schools (because Eric and I were just special like that). My first round was great. I had the topic "Halloween" and embellished my previous speech about my imaginary holiday Easter, now called Halloween. The judge told me my speech was one of the most creative she'd seen and I won first place in the round overwhelmingly. The second round was almost better. I had the topic "Clowns" and I came up with a story about the first clown who ever lived. It was funnier than my imaginary Halloween and the judge laughed until he cried. It was the third round where things fell apart. We had lunch in between second and third rounds, and Eric showed me some game he was playing on his computer. His laptop was way nicer than mine and not nearly as small. I walked into the third round feeling quite confident. Even if I completely bombed this round I had a fairly good chance of making finals. I felt reasonably happy for the first time in a week. Then our topics came. Mine was "My Best Friend." My stomach plunged about five miles and my head started to buzz. My eyes started to burn and my chest felt almost empty. My best friend… My best friend was Alice, the girl that joined the Group. Who lit me on fire. Who had ignored my warnings about the Group. With a blue streak and a maniacal look in her eyes, Alice, Alice, Alice… I quickly wrote down some kind of stupid idea for an imaginary best friend that was apparently a miracle worker or something stupid like that, she could walk on water, heal the sick, make rain, halt disasters, and put up with my sarcasm, all equally incredible things. I was supposed to go first. "My best friend is my friend, uh, Jessica," I said, saying the first name that came into my head. I was as bouncily happy and pleasant as with my other speeches. "She is the most amazing person alive. She can walk on…" I felt weak again and my stomach started to die. I swallowed and tried to continue. "She can walk on chocolate. Once we were very bored and filled her entire bathtub with chocolate- don't ask where we got it because we swore we'd never tell- and Jessica- she, uh…" the weakness came back and, to my horror, I started to cry. This was actually kind of a true story (only with pasta sauce), and I could see Alice's seven-year-old face grinning as the pasta sauce squelched around her foot. I didn't finish my speech. I continued to cry in front of Daniel and four people from other schools, just sat up there and cried and cried. Wow, I am pathetic. I ran out of the room after a couple seconds and into the hallway, still crying. I sank onto the floor and cried. No one's rounds were finished yet; I would probably be alone for at least a few minutes. Or, at least, I would have been alone. Kevin was walking down the hallway listening to his mp3 player and mouthing along with the words, one of those annoying habits he has. He stopped when he saw me and pulled his headphones out of his ears. "Eve? What are you doing?" He sat down next to me. "Are you okay?" I glared at him. "Oh yeah, Kevin, I feel absolutely wonderful. I'm sitting here crying instead of giving my speech just to be hip and cool." "Oh, this is where your speech is?" "Yes, this is where the comp is. What are you doing here? Why are you bothering me?" "This is my sister's school and my mom has to do some volunteer thing for it. It's boring, so I'm just kind of walking around." He paused for a second. "Why are you crying? What happened?" I got up and shook myself off. "Oh, nothing. Just leave me alone." "Eve-" "Leave me alone!" I started to walk down the hallway and Kevin followed me Ugh. I wanted him to go away. I wanted everyone to go away. He caught up with me fairly quickly and grabbed my wrist. "Does this have to do with Alice?" "No." Only a boy would fall for that. "What, then? Something to do with your family? I know you don't get worked up for nothing." "I'm not worked up. I'm fine. I just got a bad topic, that's all, and I completely screwed up my chances for first place." I sighed. "It's a stupid thing to cry about, but it's really embarrassing to stand up there with nothing to say." "Oh. Well, that sucks. Better luck next time, I guess?" "Hopefully. Look, I'm going home, alright? There's no way I placed with a round like that." "Oh, come on. I'm so bored. Please come talk to me while my mom does this volunteering thing?" "Why don't you try helping your mom with the volunteering thing? It might be more interesting than walking around pretending like you're Linkin Park." Kevin made a face. "I am not." "Dude, you look so bizarre with the lyric mouthing thing." He pulled on my wrist. "Come on." I yanked away. "I'm going home. It's been a horrible day." It sucked, too, because I love comps and I look forward to them, and now everything was ruined just by a stupid topic. And the Group. Kevin sighed. "When do the rounds end?" "Third round will probably end in like ten, fifteen minutes. Then there are finals. Eric will definitely make finals, Sarah might, and Daniel and Whitney probably won't. You can bother them then." "I guess." "What is your mom doing with the volunteering? What's up with that?" Kevin made a face. "The parents have to give forty hours of volunteering to the school or they'll kick the kids out. So my mom goes in and grades tests." "Awww," I said. "And the model family can't bear to be separated from one another, so deal widdle Kevin goes with his mommy and his baby sister. How sweet and loving." I love making fun of the perfection of Kevin's family. Kevin glared at me. "Usually I stay home. But I have to buy shoes after this, so I got dragged along." "You can't buy shoes yourself?" I rolled my eyes. "What, is your mom afraid you'll join a gang on the way to the shoe store? Or does she think there will be venomous snakes in the shoes you get?" Kevin gave a frustrated sigh. "Just because your parents are frighteningly negligent does not mean that's normal." "My parents are not frighteningly negligent," I refuted. "They know I'm not four years old anymore and treat me as such." "Well, whatever." He looked around. "I'm glad I didn't go to this middle school. Jess says they're the most totalitarian school alive." I rolled my eyes. "Totalitarian?" "Totalitarian. Obsessively controlling. You know the meaning of the word, I assume?" I shook my head. Sometimes it's a good idea to just leave arguments like this be. "Whatever. Sutter wasn't the greatest school, but it was alright." "Would you have rather gone to Cal?" "No way! Cal Crashes, Sutter Scores!" This motto has been around Sutter since forever. We chanted it nonstop through basketball and soccer games and at every comp I ever attended, even in the classroom sometimes. Kevin grinned. I shook my head. "Anyway, I guess I'll see you later." "See you." I just missed the bus in the school's neighborhood and ended up havng to just kind of sit there waiting for the next bus to come. Sarah found me waiting. "Hey, Ev," she said, sitting next to me. "What happened third round? You always make finals!" "I got a bad topic," I said, shrugging. "Didn't know what to say." Sarah watched me for a second. "It had something to do with Alice," she said. It was not a question. It was not a prediction. It was a statement. "No," I said. "I got 'Marilyn Monroe." I don't even know who that is! How can I give a speech about somethinbg I don't know?" Sarah gave me a disparaging look. Unfortunately, she's not as stupid as Kevin. "Yeah right. You'd just make up something about her then. No, it was something that upset you, and the only thing that would upset you is Alice." I wasn't kidding when I said she was logical and blunt. Sarah sighed. "Look, Eve, I know you're really upset about Alice. And it's okay that you're upset. But you don't need to lie about it." I scowled. I don't like admitting I'm upset or scared or anything like that, even to my friends. I keep that stuff in my head, where it belongs. I'll lie. Sarah pulled on my arm. "Are you going to my house or back home?" I shook her off. I don't like people touching me. "I was thinking home." "Come with me," she suggested. "I have to make a movie for English, and I need extras." Speech-only comps are hella short, so it was only one o clock when we got back to Sarah's house. We ate lunch and discussed comps. Sarah had this one guy from a different high school with a brilliant improv speech about his favorite book. A couple other kids came over at two-ish and we worked on Sarah's project. Apparently they were doing a unit on satire (I was deeply envious) and she was satirizing some commercial. It was fun because I got to be really sarcastic. I love being sarcastic. I took the bus home after that. My mom was sitting on the computer doing something on the internet. "Hi, honey. Where were you today?" I glared at her. "Places," I said before stomping into my room, slamming my door, flinging my debate-tote-bag on the ground and turning my computer on (unfortunately, there was no way to do this angrily or noisily). Brian came into my room while I was doing this. "You should give her a chance," he said after a few seconds. "Chances are overrated," I half-growled. "Especially her chances." Brian sat on my bed, which was right next to my desk. "How did your speech tournament go?" "Horribly," I said. "The first two rounds were geat and I placed first both times, but then in third round I got the toic "My Best Fiend" and I tried to come up with something about an imaginary best friend but all I could thnk about was Alice and I started crying. I miss her, Brian! She's my best friend!" "Of course you miss her. But you can't let that ruin your life." "It's already ruined. The Group is after me, all because of her, and they're going to ruin my life just like they ruined Alice's!" "The Group is after you?" "Yeah. They're after me. They want me killed." "Are you sure this isn't just you being paranoid?" "Alice told me. She said that my family has screwed with the Group enough and now they want me dead or crushed." "Wouldn't being crushed kill you?" I laughed. "No, Brian, not literally crushed. They don’t want a pancake-Eve." I sighed. "They want to crush my…personality. My Eve-ness." "Oh," Brian said. "That's worse." "Worse than dying? How can somehig be worse than dying?" I shook my head. "Okay. Whatever. This is a bad conversation." "Yeah, a little bit." He paused for a second. "Did you place?" "Nope. Oh, well. I'll just have to dominate the next comp." "You'll dominate, Lina." On Monday we had doughnuts in Speech and Debate and talked about the comp, making fun of judges, mocking each other's speeches, and talking quite a bit about the fie alarm that went off just as Eric got first place for improv. We also got little sheets where the judges made comments about our performance. The first two were as good as I expected them to be, both some variant of creative, hilarious, somewhat off topic, heavy use of slang, confident demeanor. Some are beneficial, some (like the slang) are detractors. But I got 1st place in both rounds, like I'd expected. The third round slip was much less positive- burst into tears, oddl prone to stage fright. "I do not have stage fright!" I said out loud in indignation once I saw the slip. If there's one thing I do not have, it is stage fright. I have never gotten nervous in front of people. Ever. "What happened third round?" Daniel asked me in a quiet voice. "You always dominate improv." "I got a bad topic," I muttered. Daniel, being the kind person he is, did not point out how obvious of a lie this was. After class Mr. Benk called me up to his desk. "Is something wrong?" Mr. Benk asked. "You seemed great in front of the class. Do you really have stage fright?" "I have about as much stage fright as I do politeness," I informed him. "I got a bad topic and I completely screwed everything up." "Did something happen to Alice?" Why does the entire world have to be psychic. "She…she joined the Group." "Do you want to talk to a counselor about it?" You mean actually talk to someone about my problems? "No! I want everyone to leave me alone about it, that's what I want!" "Well, if that's what you want…" I did not like this conversation at all. "I'm fine. I'm seriously fine." I left after that and met up with Eric. "Hey, Eve," he said. "Hey, Eric. Congrats at the tournament. The improv speech I saw you give was epic. You totally deserved that win." "Thanks. Your speech on clowns was so funny my stomach hurt. I ant believe you didn't make finals." "Well, you better not get used to winning first, cuz next time you're going dooooown maaaaaan." Eric kind of laughed. "Oh, are you so sure?" "Imma gunna dominate this next comp, just you watch." "Oh, Ev, can't you be nice just once?" Eric asked, giving me sarcastic Bambi eyes. I laughed. "Anyway, I gotta catch Sarah's bus. See you." "See ya." I half-ran over to Sarah. "Hey, Sarah. Ready?" "I'm completely ready. Let's go." We took the bus to Sarah's house and ran upstairs. Sarah had gotten the thankless task of editing her satirized commercial and wanted me to help, since she'd never done video editing before and I'd done some. We had fun. Halfway through this excursion, Sarah started running her mouth about the Group. "You think the Group is bad here," she said, "you haven't seen them in other states." I didn't say anything. "I used to live in Oregon," she said in a low voice, "and the Group was everywhere. They owned stores. They drove buses. They worked in factories. It wasn't just kids, it was adults. "Sometimes they would decide they didn't…didn't like a person. And when that happened, it was horrible. They would be cut off from everything, beat up in the streets, and usually killed. They could burn things down or rob stores and no one could do anything. The police and government were…ceremonial. All of the real power was in the Group." "That's…terrifying." "Most of the time it was okay, actually. The Group didn't target a lot of people. But they started to target us. We escaped down here, because California is pretty much the only place the Group doesn't have a lot of power." "Why not?" "A lot of states passed laws a while back that allowed the Group to get really big and powerful. California and a couple other states didn't." "But could they?" "Who knows. The way the Group is, you never know what they could do." I didn't like the idea of the Group controlling the state. I didn't like the idea of the Group controlling my life. The Group was hell, the Group was horror, the Group was horrible, and we had to stay away from it. "I'm never leaving California," I muttered. "Here, you want me to show you how to mute out the video?" I was thinking about that as we worked on her video. Maybe that was what the Group was after- that control, that terror. For people had to be terrified, constantly terrified of being persecuted. They would never dare to question the Group, never dare to disobey them. Unless there was a possibility or hope of getting away… No wonder the Group hated me so much. The next day was okay; I talked to everyone, mouthed off in class. I sat with a girl a year younger than me on the bus named Grace. She was very talkative. When I got home, Brian jumped up. "Lina!" he half-shouted. "The report card came in!" "Report card? They still do those?" In my school you're supposed to go on this website Zangle and your final grades are there. "For middle schools. Guess what I got?" "What?" "Three A's and three B's! Isn't that great?" "Awesome, Brian! That's awesome!" I chucked my backpack in my room and came back to the table. "I think we should have a celebratory cookie." "From the cabinet?" Brian asked, looking hopeful. "Yeah." My parents have a stash of sugar in our garage inside a locked cabinet. "But you don't know the combination." Brian tilted his head to the right. "Or do you?" "'Course not. But I know a shortcut." In the end, I drilled the doors of the cabinet, removed three cookies, and then drilled them back. I've done this many, many times before and my parents still haven't figured out where all the sugar goes. It's fun. Brian, being Brian, managed to pretty much inhale his cookie. Well, he inhaled half of it. The other half was crumbs deposited on the table. "Mom will be really proud of this, won't she?" he asked. "And Dad? Maybe they'll put it on the refrigerator. That's what Matthew's parents do when he gets good grades." "Right," I said. "Maybe." Normally I would make a scathing statement about our parents and the amount of attention they pay to us, but I decided against it. I couldn't suppress a scowl, however. "Lina, you're making a face. You don't think they'll notice, do you?" I shrugged. Dinner was quiet at first. We uninterestedly poked at our food for awhile. "My report card came in today," Brian finally said after a time. No one said anything. He cleared his throat uneasily. "I got three A's and three B's," he said in a quieter voice. The table was silent. "That's good, right?" Crickets. I forced myself to answer. "Brian, you know it's good." This did not make Brian happier. He knew what I thought already. "Mom, did you hear me? I got a good report card." "Wonderful," Dad answered uninterestedly before turning to me. "Eve, what about your grades? Have you checked Zangle lately?" Brian's face twisted unhappily. He stood up and knocked his chair back, picking up his plate and dumping it in the sink angrily. "I'm done," he said in a hiss. No one said anything. "Dad!" I quietly exclaimed when he'd left. "Who cares about my grades? Brian was talking about his report card! What about that?" "Your grades are more important," he said. I stood up as angrily as Brian and went down the hallway to his room. He looked up at me with fury. "What do you want?" "Brian, I'm sorry." He turned back to his homework, clearly not listening, or at least trying to pretend like he wasn't listening. "Listen to me. I-" "They don't care about me," he said. "They only like you. Why? Why do they hate me?" "No one hates you. They just…they know they don't have to worry about you because you're such a good kid, so they don't." "So, what, they'll like me if I get bad grades and be mean to everyone like you? That's what I have to do?" "No. What you have to do is just ignore them. So what if they're uncaring or whatever? That doesn't mean you don't matter, it just means they're stupid. Don't let it bother you." "Easy for you to say. They like you. When you're missing from school for too long they'll check the notices for the fifty-five bus or call Alice's mom. When I'm gone, nothing happens." "That’s because- wait, they what? They try to figure out where I am when I'm gone?" "Yeah. They do. What do they do when I'm not here by the time I'm home, huh? Celebrate?" "Brian, this is a stupid argument. They're sucky parents all around, can we just agree on that?" Brian glared at me and didn't understand. Sigh. I went in my room much less happily. I didn't have any homework today, so I decided it was time for one of my stupid sci-fi VHS tapes. Spy Kids, here I come. "Hi-i-i-i-i!" I said in my Valley Girl way, making the word sound like it had a million syllables. "Hey," Kevin said. "You have history fourth period, don't you?" "I certainly do," I said. "Why?" "Are we grading the quiz today?" he asked. "Nope. Instead we're getting the assignment for an awesomely awesome new project on imperialism." "Ugh," Whitney said, dramatically falling over the table. "Why does this school give so many projects? We have a new one every week, and I always feel guilty if I'm not working on it." "I have a solution for that," Sarah said. "Ignore it for the first two weeks, then half-ass some BS. Then watch as my crappy project gets the same grade as your elegant one." "That's a horrible way to do your homework," Kevin reprimanded. "It's the Sarah and Eve way," I said. "Whatever. Whitney, you wanna be partners?" "Okay." "When's it due?" Kevin asked me. "I don't know. You think I seriously pay attention in history?" Kevin sighed. "Oh, Eve, you're such a blond." "I'm such a- hey! I'm not blond!" "Yes, you are." "What color does this look like to you?" I asked. "Dark blond?' Kevin said, raising an eyebrow at me. "Actually, that's a pretty good description for you- dark, for morbid, and the blond for stu-" "Oh, shut up," I muttered. "Who's got the crappy comebacks now?" "What's up guys?" Eric asked, coming out of nowhere. "What lives, eh?" "Huh?" Kevin said. "What does that mean?" Whitney asked. Eric shook his head. "Oh, never mind. But seriously, do you guys know where Alice is?" There was silence for a few seconds as the four of us all prayed we wouldn't have to explain. "Dude, she joined the Group," Kevin finally said. "She's not coming back." "Oh," Eric said, looking shocked. "Oh, I'm so sorry. That's terrible." "Well, it's…" I started. "You know…" "She's gone. I can't believe she's gone." The four of us sat there kind of awkwardly. See, the thing is, when someone is taken by the Group, you aren't supposed to get upset. You aren't supposed to act like they're dead, even though they pretty much are. It's supposed to be like they just kind of disappear and never existed. Eric is from a rural area, though. The Group isn't really present in rural areas here in California- they only really exist in the reasonably big cities like Sacramento and Fresno. In Modesto, where Eric lived until last year, they're there, but just barely. He wouldn't know how to act when people are taken. "Well, is there anything in particular.." "Oh yeah," Eric said. "It's kind of stupid…but Alice and I are working on a big lab in Chem, and she has all the files I need." "She lives near my house," I said "If you want me to, I can go over to her house and get the stuff on a flashdrive or something." "Really? That would be awesome." I pulled out a piece of paper. "Any key words I can use to find it really fast? Like in a crtl F thingy?" Eric rattled off a couple chemicals that I wrote down as quickly as I could. "Ok. I'll get it to you tomorrow in Speech and Debate, alright?" "Awesome. You rock." "I know." "Gotta go buy lunch," he said. "See ya." "See ya," we answered back. So I walked to Alice's house from the transit center. Her mo answered the door. "You!" she hissed. "You caused her to be taken! It's all your fault!" "It- what? How is it my fault? I told her to stay away from the Group! She just refused to listen to me!" Her mom shook her head. "You warned her, but you also caused the Group to want her! If she hadn't been friends with you she would be okay right now!" "Well, I'm sorry," I said. "I need something on her computer. Can I come in, please?" "You are an evil girl," her mother hissed at me. "I'm sorry." "A daughter of the devil! The devil!" You are probably reading this going 'that chick is seriously screwy in the head.' Here, you can have this award for acute powers of observation! Have fun! Seriously, though, Alice's mom had always been a few degrees shy of a circle, and this was only exacerbated by Alice's disappearance. Losing their kids to the Group always shot parents down a couple inches on their quest for a foot. "Look, can I look at Alice's computer for a few seconds? Please? Pleeease?" Her mother glared at me for a second before being distracted by the computer. She raced over and started frantically typing. O-kay then. I walked into Alice's room. It looked the same as always- blue walls; thrown-over bedsheet, clothes on the floor. Her computer was still sleeping, like someone left it on and never touched it again. It was like she just walked off the face of the earth. Trying desperately to not be too creeped out by this (and kind of failing), I wiggled the mouse on her computer, ran a search of her My Documents, and found the lab. Apparently Alice had a lot of Chem homework; the chemicals I searched for brought up a dozen results, most of them with random names. I copied all of them onto the flashdrive because all I wanted to do right then was run away. Now. I yanked the flashdrive out of Alice's computer, didn't bother to turn it off, and raced out of her room and down the hall as fast as gravity would let me. I narrowly escaped death from Alice's mom's broom (Yeah, Mrs. Pull. I'm sure a broom will make an excellent weapon against the Group) and was out of the house. "Hello, class," Mr. Benk greeted in first period the next day. "Hello, Mr. Benk," the little B-track zombies answered. "Today I want to talk about change," he said, wiping off the board. His voice sounded funny, like he was trying not to cry or something. "You should have learned in history that humankind was much the same for thousands of years, back in the early years of our species. But for the past few hundred years, change has been much rapid. Society-changing inventions came about much faster- the printing press, mechanization of industry, the telephone, the airplane, and so on. Things change at a frighteningly fast pace now. Ten years ago life was wildly different. Ten years- that's within your lifetime. The world around you when you were four was wildly different from now. "One of these icon thingamajiggers here-" he tapped the little icon on the wall, "is change over time. It's an important thing to understand. You can't simply let change happen, you must look back and see it. "Your assignment this week is to write an essay on this I want you to ask your parents or other teachers what life as like ten or fifteen years ago. I want you to ask them what was different in 2010 and what was the same. I want you to ask them what they're glad changed and what they wish hadn't. And then I want you to contrast it to your life now, and I want you to say what you're glad hanged and what you wish hadn't." There was a pause. Kevin raised his hand. "How long should it be?" he asked. "Can I tell you something, Kevin?" the teacher said. "Uh, okay…" "That is a stupid question." Mr. Benk turned to the board and wrote on it "Make it as long as it needs to be." He turned back to us. "Class, the length of the paper doesn't matter. I don't care whether you write fifteen sentences or fifteen pages. I want you to think about your topic and write a good essay. Write everything you need to say and nothing more than that." "Could you be just a little more vague?" I called out. "I think that's a little too clear-cut for us." Mr. Benk actually laughed at that a little. "I'm sorry, Eve. If I tried to be any more vague about what I want, well, who knows what I could end up with?" "When's it due?" some other kid asked. "Whenever you think it should be due," Mr. Benk said, making fun of his own vague-ness. "No, sorry. Week and a half, next Monday." "You didn't want to tell us that, did you?" I called out. He shook his head and very obviously started to ignore me. "Okay, now take out your books and let's talk about change in Animal Farm. Kevin, could you start us off?" So, I went home that day and screwed around for an hour, kind of doing math homework but not really. I was trying to be more on top of my homework this year (largely because Kev did nothing but bug me about it at school), but so far I was doing kind of a crappy job of it. At four thirtyish I got bored of geometry and went out in my neighborhood to go bother Emily, my friend in the neighborhood. She's a year older than me, super gullible, and hates being tricked or teased. Being me, I exploit this constantly. Unfortunately for her, When my mom came home and started making dinner, I decided to make my move for the English project. I was actually somewhat interested in this project, essay, whatever, and it was a good excuse to annoy my parents and find out more of their history. "Hi, Mom," she was cutting a load of carrots. "Whatcha doin'?" "Cutting carrots for soup," she said, dumping a load into a big pot. "Making dinner," I said, nodding my head. "How resolutely feminine." My mom scowled. She hates it whenever I say anything she's doing fits neatly into stereotypes. "So, I have this homework assignment-" "And, what, you want me to do it for you? How resolutely Eve-esque." Most of the time, my mom tries to be nice to me and Brian, but when she's annoyed she'll get snappy at anyone and everyone. No one wonders where I got my insulting skills from. "No. We have to ask our parents about change. Not how your life has changed- since we know you haven't made any progress- but how society has changed. So, Mom, how has society changed in the past ten or fifteen years?" My mom's cutting started to go about fifty times faster. "Well?" "Petrocol," she said finally. "Petrocol?" I said, surprised. "The stuff that runs the buses and airplanes and stuff? What's changed about that?" Petrocol is this manufactured chemical made out of…well…something. It can run engines, but it's too powerful for small cars. It can only work on airplanes and trucks and trains and buses and stuff. There's a similar chemical, Petrocon, that generates electricity. We think of them as just these magical chemicals that somehow run our lives. No one I know, not even Alice, has even a small idea of how they're manufactured or how they work. "We used to use gas and oil for everything," she muttered. I could barely hear her. "Gasoline used to be three dollars a gallon-" "What?" I blurted out. "Ten years ago? Gasoline was worth candy money only ten years ago?" "Most people drove everywhere. A lot of adults didn't even have a bike." "Ten years ago? Only ten years ago?" "Maybe more like twelve." "Wow," I said. "What else? What else was different?" "Go bug your father," she said. "I wasn't around to see most of it. I don't know what to say." I sighed and went into the living room. My dad was, as always, sitting on the couch reading. He wasn't even half as approachable as my mom in her snappy moods. My parents kind of suck. "Hi, Dad," I said. "How's life?" He made a difficult-to-hear mutter. "So, we have a project for English where we have to interview our parents about what life was like ten years ago. So. What was it like?" My dad ignored me for several seconds. "Daaaad," I whined. "What was different then?" "Don't remember. Ask your mother." "Dad, she wasn't actually here, remember? You were, right?" He moved his book in front of my face, still reading, as a way to try and shut me up. "Dad….Can I have, like, a word? Please?" "Tracks," he said shortly. "Education tracks." I asked him questions for a few more minutes, but he just kind of stared at his book and refused to answer me. Yay. "Go annoy your mother," he said in an angry voice. I finally gave up. I wandered back into my room and logged onto my computer. Kevin was online and, as always, instantly started bugging me. Kevin: Hi Ev. Eve: Whaddup, Kev. Kevin: The ceiling. Eve: Aren't you fabulously clever. Kevin: I know, right? Eve: I like Mr. Benk's essay idea. Kevin: Nonsequitor. Kevin: Wait…what? Eve: I started on that essay for Mr. Benk. It's an interesting idea. Kevin: You're doing your homework and….liking it? Eve: Yes. And the earth turned around on its axis and the sun went cold and Napoleon got out of his grave and did the Macarena. Kevin: Today was an interesting day. Eve: So, did you start on it? Kevin: Didn't have anything better to do. Eve: Did your parents answer? Wait, no, that's a stupid question. Cuz you live in a model family of perfection and all. Kevin: They didn't, actually. Eve: They…what? Kevin: My dad muttered something about technology and my mom said people used to drive a lot and then went in the back of the house. Eve: They…didn't…answer…you? Eve: What? Kevin: Did yours? Eve: No, of course not. Eve: But considering the fact that I say an average of five words a week with my dad and avoid my mom as much as possible, that's not really surprising anyone. Kevin: Eve, that's not good. Eve: It's great. Eve: Trust me, I'm happy that I don’t have to spend a lot of time with my parents. Kevin: I see. Kevin: Did they say anything at all? Eve: My mom said "We didn't have Petrocol. Gasoline was three dollars. Go bug your father." My dad said. "Education tracks. Go annoy your mother." Eve: Cuz my parents are so sweet and loving and everything. Kevin: So, I imagine you aren't going to do it? Eve: Maybe. Eve: I can't believe your parents didn't say anything. Eve: I was just going to annoy you about it, but I guess I can't now. Kevin: Glad my parents saved me on that one. Eve: Hilarious. Kevin: I wonder if they had the Group ten years ago. Eve: …. Kevin: No, seriously. Kevin: That would be a major difference. Eve: Dude, Kevin, you can't talk about the Group in an essay. Kevin: Why not? Eve: Because you can't. Eve: It's against the rules. Kevin: Yeah, and I know how dedicated you are to the rules. Eve: Shut up. Eve: Let's talk about something else. Kevin: I wonder if adults talked about the past ten years ago. Eve: Probably not. Eve: Hey, you know what's weird? Kevin: What? Eve: There's a gap. In books, I mean. Kevin: Yes, Eve, those are called chapter breaks. Eve: No, I mean in publishing years. Eve: My brother has enough books to rival the Library of Congress, right? Last summer e annoyed me about organizing them until I relented. Kevin: I remember that. Kevin: It took you like sixteen hours, didn't it? Eve: That kid has way too many books. Eve: Anyway, he has fifteen books from the 1990's Eve: And quite a few from before. Eve: And, of course, a ton from the past nine years or so. Kevin: But nothing from 2000-2020 Eve: Right. Kevin: Interesting. Kevin: Maybe he just doesn't like books from that time period. Eve: There's this one author he likes that wrote from like 1995 until now. Eve: he can see her books from the 2000-2020 time period Eve: But they aren't available in libraries or on Amazon or whatever. Kevin: I'm posting this on Facebook. Kevin: I wonder if anyone else's parents clammed up. So, I went online and tried to find out some information. I could probably write a pretty decent essay based on what I already knew about Petrocol and the education tracks, but I was curious. Why would the adults refuse to tell us about the past? I searched for a while and didn't find a lot of information, but what interested me the most was how many pages were blocked. "We're sorry," half the webpages lamented. "But this page is not available in your country." Most of the other pages were very scarce of information. I did, however, figure out one thing: the Group had taken power in 2012. They'd been a small cult in Virginia but in 2012 suddenly grew in membership, power, and geography. They'd taken over the country in about three years. That was mildly frightening. I, being the biggest conspiracy theorist on the planet, apparently, had a small hypothesis that the two issues were linked. You know, the whole Group-taking-over thingy and then the other issue there, the let's pretend 2000 through 2020 just never happened dealio. You have to admit, they did seem at least a little bit connected. I got tired of homework then, and it turned out to be a pretty good time to get tired of homework because my mom almost instantly called me to dinner. Dinnertime was, of course, accompanied by the usual silence. I don't know why my mom always insists we eat at the table. Alice and Whitney's families never eat dinner together and those families hate each other a lot less than ours. Ah, well. "So," my dad said after a few minutes. "You want to learn about the past." "It's not so much that I'm absolutely dying to find out about 'the past'," I corrected him, waving my arms around and saying the past' in a funny voice. "It's an assignment for school." "I told you Lina does her homework," Brian cut in. My mom and my dad looked at each other then at me. "Lina, we're not that stupid. We know it's not a homework assignment." I rolled my eyes and sighed. "The one time it's actually an assignment, you choose not to believe me. Is that what you're telling me?" "Those were bad years," my dad said. "No one in their right mind would assign homework telling you to go find out more about them." I snorted. "Dad, no one ever said Mr. Benk was in his right mind." "Who's Mr. Benk?" My mom asked suspiciously. "None of your teachers are named Mr. Benk." "Ms. Mariss got pregnant or something. Mr. Benk is our English substitute for the rest of the year. "I see," my mom said. The table was silent for a few seconds while I pondered my next move. "The Group took power in 2012," I said casually, twirling spaghetti around on my fork. My mom choked and my dad glared. Ooh, this was fun. "We have told you again and again," my dad said in a tight, angry voice. "The Group is bad news. Don't look at them, don't talk to the, don't research them, don't-" "Wear a green bathing suit and do a tap dance on their doorstep?" I said sarcastically. "I'm not stupid, Dad. I was looking up what happened ten years because, despite your lengthy and telling answers to my questions for a homework assignment, I still had pretty much nothing to say for my essay." "Leave the Group alone," my dad snarled. "Unlike others at this table, I'm not a complete idiot," I said, standing up. "Anyway, I've got more research to do." "So," Kevin greeted, leaning against the locker next to mine. "What did your parents say again?" "All I said was 'the Group took power in 2012' and it was like 'kablam!' my dad was all like 'No, Eve! No!" I fake-shrieked "Don't turn over to the dark side! Don't look at them! Don't research them! My soul is melting, melting, I ell you, melting!" Kevin laughed at my dramatization. "And I was all like, I know the drill, Dad. Don't look at the Group, don't think about them, don't research them, don't wear a sombrero and offer them rides on unicorns." Kevin laughed harder. "Eve, your family is hilarious." "Hey, these genes don't just come out of nowhere." "Are you sure? I always had you pegged as some kind of really screwy mutation, cuz that's how asexual organisms evolve." I rolled my eyes. "How can a joke so nerdy be so insulting?" "That joke wasn't nerdy!" Kevin insisted. I rolled my eyes, deciding to let the idiocy of that statement speak for itself. "I can't believe your parents didn't tell you anything," I said, slamming my door shut. "Aren't model families supposed to be there for each other every sickeningly sweet second of their lives?" Kevin rolled his eyes. "We're hardly a model family, Ev." "Whatever," I said. "Listen to what I found out. The Group took power in 2012, right in the middle of those blacked-out years. Coincidence?" Kevin shrugged. "Well…it could be. Does the Group even have computers?" "Maybe not here," I said, "but in other states they control everything. Like, say, what books are published or most of the information on the internet or-" "Or whether adults are allowed to tell us about the past?" Kevin asked me sarcastically. "So, what, the Group just went and mind-controlled everyone in California but didn't manage to gain any power from that?" "They didn't mind-control anyone," I said, "they mind-controlled the kids who join the Group. And parents are afraid to tell their kids because it means they might join the Group." Kevin shook his head. "Eve, what is your deal with the Group? You freaked out when Alice joined it, and now-" "Look," I said. "Okay, my theory is a bit farfetched. And I wouldn't defend it to the death or anything stupid like that. But seriously, the Group is bad news." "I know that," Kevin said. "They're horrible. But they don't mind control people. There is no way that the Group could brainwash three hundred and fifty million people. It's just not happening." "It was difficult to find stuff on the internet," I said. "A lot of webpages were blocked. They said Americans weren't allowed to view them….because….say….the Group took over America. Books are blocked. Adults are blocked. Why, Kev? Why?" "I haven't the slightest idea," Kevin said. "Maybe it's just a coincidence. I get random pages blocked sometimes, even when it's something like music charts or chemistry flashcards-" "Chemistry flashcards?" "Last year we had to memorize half the periodic table," Kev explained. "It was on a website called 'Chemistry flashcards'. Anyway, the point is that a webpage being blocked does not automatically mean something weird is up." The bell rang. "I'm going to ask Mr. Benk about it," I said. "Will you ask your parents?" "Ehhhhh…" "Come on, Kev." "Yeah, whatever. Come on, let's get to class. We don't want to be late." I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, Kev, we're in such danger of being late, all of ten yards away from the classroom." "Shut up, Ev." "You guys have Mr. Benk, right?" Whitney asked me and Kev at lunch. "Yeah," we both said. "Did your parents help you with the stupid essay assignment?" she asked. "Mine were all like 'ten years ago? Uh….you know…unemployment….global warming…oh no, the chicken's burning!" Whitney mimed someone freaking out. "And, I mean, I'm so not saying my parents are absent-minded or anything-" "Psh. Yeah, totally. Like forgetting that you're walking on stairs and tripping or that it's Christmas or something like that doesn't make anyone absent-minded," Sarah sad, rolling her eyes. "They didn't forget about Christmas," Whitney said, sounding somewhat offended. "They just thought it was on the twenty-sixth. I got presents." I shook my head. Whitney's parents are really nice and you can tell they really love her and her sister Kristen, but they have the worst case of ADOS (Attention Deficit- ooh, shiny!) the world has ever seen. Her mom crashed her bike into a tree because she forgot how to steer, and her dad accidentally took the light rail instead of the bus and ended up in Roseville before he figured it out. "My parents were so not helpful," I said. "My mom kind of made faces at me and my dad said about two words." "My parents weren't helpful either," Kevin said. "They were all trying to avoid me. It was super annoying." "What's the assignment about?" Daniel asked, startling all of us. He's been sitting with us for a couple weeks now, but he's so quiet I forget he's there sometimes. He can kind of hold a conversation if you directly talk to him and all, but he never volunteers in a discussion. "We have to find out what life was like ten years ago and write an essay on change. Problem is, there aren't any books from that time period, and all of the websites from then are blocked in America." "You…researched?" Sarah said, looking more shocked than I've ever seen her. "Imposter! Imposter! What, did you eat the real Eve?" Kevin rolled his eyes. "It has to be Eve. No one else in the world can be that sarcastic or have such an annoying accent." "I don't have an accent," I said. "I talk normally." "Yes, you do," Sarah said. "You have a frighteningly strong Californian accent." I sighed in irritation. "I do nuh-awt. Unless I'm, like, trying to mock Cali accents. Then I obviously do." "Anyway," Kevin said, "What do you think the deal is? How can they all be so…evasive? My parents are never evasive." "We can tell," Sarah said, laughing. Kevin looked confused and turned to me. "What was that even about?" I shrugged. "See, Kev, there's so much about you that we can insult that when someone makes any kind of crack at you it's funny, because our heads just kind of automatically insert a joke about you." Despite this statement not making a whole lotta sense, Kev found it fairly insulting. Score. So, after speech and debate that day I walked up to Mr. Benk to question him about the assignment he'd given us. "Hey, Mr. Benk," I said. "So, I started on that essay thingy you assigned us-" "No, Eve, you must have misunderstood. I don't want an essay thingy, because what am I going to do with that, clean out my ears? No, I want an essay." I laughed a little bit. "So, I asked my parents about the essay, and they didn't really say anything. And, I mean, there are books missing and internet pages blocked and stuff. And, I mean, I know I'm supposed to feel like the entire universe conspires against me because I'm a teenager and all, but I don't know. Either way, it makes it difficult to do the essay. Thoughts?" Mr. Benk shrugged. "Just tell me what you can." "But Mr. Benk-" "Just tell me what you can." I sighed and started walking out of the classroom. "Thanks for your wisdom, help, and advice, Mr. Benk!" I called back. "Thank you for your insight, intelligence, and consistently positive outlook, Eve!" he called back. Mr. Benk is the awesomest teacher ever. I got home that day with "Black Sea" stuck in my head and I was singing just for fun. Normally, when I do this Brian will try to throw something at me or else will put his hands over his ears and go "I can't hear you, I can't hear you!" in a very loud voice. "Black sea! Why do I see, this glimmer on the- Hey, Brian, where are you?" And, of course, "Hey Brian, where are you?" is part of the song, that's why it's such a great one. Outside of Sarcasia, I was jolted out of my really bad rendition of Ace.of.Base's masterpiece by the fact that Brian was not sitting at his seat on the table doing homework. He had mysteriously vanished. "Yo, Brian!" I yelled out. "Are you trying to see if you fit in the cabinet again? Cuz that really doesn't work, remember!?" Two years ago, when Brian came home from school about an hour before I did (I took he bus, he did not), he came home and immediately tried to see if he fit in a cabinet. I was listening to my mp3 player and didn't figure this out until about half an hour later. Sometimes I'm surprised humans regularly make it past the age of eight without killing themselves out of stupidity. There was no response, so I shrugged and figured he was at someone's house, doing homework or wreaking havoc somewhere. Havoc is a fun word. I didn't have anything better to do, so I walked over to my room and watched Toy Story. Everyone loves Pixar, right? It's not totally lame for a high-schooler to be watchin little kids movies? Brian came home in a fury about an hour later and stormed past my room without even saying hi (the insolence! Who does that kid think he is, an eleven year old sibling?) So, I walked over to his room and leaned on his doorway. "Hey, Brian." Brian snarled something at me and refused to respond. "Who's an excitable cheery little guy?" I said in my mock-excited voice. "Who's the happiest little brother in the world?" Brian glared at me. "So….what's up? Robbing banks? Overturning cars? Torturing small children? With that attitude, you could pretend to be so many things!" "I was hanging out with Erin," he said. Erin is this tomboy like two houses down. She's completely C-track, flirting with D-track. She loves wreaking havoc in the neighborhood, throwing rocks at stuff, painting stuff, that kind of thing. I can tell she's smart because she always causes just enough destruction to be seriously annoying, but not enough to warrant calling the cops. She also likes doing things like dyeing people's pools in the middle of November or clogging up people's heaters in June, so you don't discover it months after the fact. But I think she's a nice person on the inside. I swear we were sisters in another life. Personally, I think she's a bad influence on Brian. But, then again, he has me for a sister and my parents for parents, so the fact that he isn't completely screwy lends credence to the idea he is resistant to bad influences. Anyway. I squinted at his hair. "Hey, did you dye your hair green or something?" His usually dark brown hair had weird darker streaks in it. Brian nodded. "Dark green, blue, purple, and red. Erin wanted to use up all of her sister's hair dye." I shook my head. "If there was a job known as 'annoy the hell out of people', Erin would be unrivaled." "No, I think you two would have to share it." "So…was your hair dyed involuntarily or something? Is that why you're so pissed off? Cuz I have dye removal you can use." Brian sighed. "No. Chloe…Chloe joined the Group." There was no way my face could imitate my shock. "Chloe? Seriously?" Chloe is Erin's older sister and polar opposite. She's a total girly girl, always shopping and wearing makeup and stuff like that. She does pretty well in school, I think she's A-track now. But while Erin is, on the inside, a pretty nice girl and tries to help people that feel excluded, Chloe is not. She doesn't wreak havoc the way Erin does and thus is the favorite child, but she's one of those bitchy clique-y girls no one likes. She's only a year older than me, so we were friends in elementary school, but then she got into popularity and hangs out with more bitchy blond girls, and I have my nerdy friends. I like Erin much better. "But Chloe is so…Chloe. How could she possibly be attracted to the Group?" "Erin wants to join it now. She says it would be easier, cuz you wouldn't have to worry about schoolwork or friends or anything. And you can be destructive without people getting mad about it." Actually, that did sound kind of nice. "Brian, you would never join the Group would you?" "No. That's why we fought. She said I was stupid and didn't know what I was talking about. She said the Group would be fun, not horror. Do you think Mom and Dad lied to us?" I shook my head. "The Group is bad news, Brian. Don't ever doubt that." "I guess." He didn't sound even half as convinced as I wanted him to be. "Erin said I can't come over to her house anymore." "Dude, are you serious?" That didn't sound like Erin at all. She was willing to be friends with anyone and everyone. "Yeah. It sucks." "You should go over there and apologize," I said. "You don't have to think what she thinks- I really hope you don't think that she thinks- but you can still say you're sorry for fighting." "She started it! Why do I have to apologize?" "Because she's thinking the exact same thing, and I can assure you that if you don't apologize she won't either." "But that's lame." "It's totally lame. But that's just the way people think." I paused. "She…she relly wanted to join the Group?" Brian nodded. "Some of my other friends do, too. A couple of them tried, but the Group wouldn't let them 'cause they were too young. Some of them have older siblings that joined or tried to join. It's really hard to get in. They have this thing you have to do to get in called an initiation. It's a fun word, isn't it?" Because Brian has a serious issue with babbling whenever he gets keyed up, it can be ind of difficult to sort through important information. Unfortunately, he only really gets keyes up whenever he's lying or trying to hide something, so getting to the important stuff is quite important. "Initiation is a real word, Brian," I said. "It means trying to get into any kind of group, not just the Group." "Oh. Cool. Anyway, I have homework. Are you going to watch a movie? I head you watching Toy Story. Can I watch it, too? I love that movie. It's funny. Even though its old. Old animation is funny-looking, isn't it? But I like it anyway. I like Buzz Lightyear. I wanted one of those so much as a kid." Definitely keyed up. As I believe I've said before, I'm not very good at subtly retrieving information from people. I'm more of the throttling and yelling type. "Brian," I said, cutting him off. "What really happened at Erin's house?" Yeah, that was a clever question. He'd never be able to figure out what I was aiming at with a question like that. Brian shrugged. He's kind of horrible at lying. "What do you mean?" "Either Erin's mom gave you enough caffeine and sugar to kill a small country or you're lying about something." I'm not smart enough to make that sound any less idiotic. "Well," Brian said, considering, "we did have sholas." Sholas, for those of you who are wondering, are these little puffy sugar thingys. Here's the ingredient list: Synthed-out sugar, synthed-out coco powder, synthed-out caffeine. In short, every eleven-year-old's dream. I raised an eyebrow at him. "You're sure about this?" Brian sighed. "Some kids from the Group came to our school today," he said in a mutter. "What did they say?" Excuse me, excuse me, everyone, total subtlety is coming through! Excuse me! "One of them asked me if I was Eve's brother, and I said yes, and she laughed and said that we didn't even know how bad we had it, and they all had creepy red eyes. And everyone except Erin refused to talk to me after that, and now she won't talk to me either. They're so mean!" I swallowed. This didn't sound good. "Who was it? Did you recognize her? Who else was there?" "Well, I don't know…there were three girls and one boy, and they all had on a lot of makeup, even the boy. And their hair was crazy. One girl looked kind of like Alice but I didn't recognize any of the others." He looked at me worriedly. "Is the Group really coming for us? Why?" "Well, I guess there's some dispute on that, but the general consensus seems to be in favor." Brian stared at me in total incomprehension. I sighed. "I think they are." "Why, Lina? What do they want with us? Why is the Group here? I want them to go away!" "You know Mom and Dad…" "That's not fair!" Brian exclaimed. "You and I didn't do anything to the Group! If they're mad at Mom and Dad, why do they have to come for us?" "Because," I said, struggling to explain. No one had ever told Brian the full story. "The Group said they would leave Mom and Dad alone. But they never made a deal with us." "And there's nothing we can do?" I sighed. "Do your homework, Brian." So I was sitting there, enjoying 6th period (well, I kinda sort of did, maybe) when Mr. Benk called me up to talk with him after class. "Ooh," Eric intoned. "Someone's in trouble." I mock-sighed. "Oh, Eric, who did you kill this time?" "It's whom, B-tracker." "It's 'jerk', A-tracker." So I, obviously, was forced to go up after class and waste my precious time talking to Mr. Benk. I mean, think of all of the important things I could have done instead! I could have, I don't know, unbent some paperclips or sorted thumbtacks or sift flour or something like that. Fun, important things. "Hi, Mr. Benk," I said. "Hello, Eve." He gave me a wan smile. "I…well, I was wondering what you know about the Group." I kept my face carefully blank. It's never a good idea to let people know when you have connections with the Group. You might as well take a big neon sign with lights and scream "Look at me! Hate me! Exclude me! I'm a weirdo and I'm destined for bad things!" Fortunately, my brother and I are not that stupid. Mr. Benk gave half a laugh. "You know, I worked in Virginia until two years ago. The Group is strongest there, right in the place it started." He sighed. "Kids will just….disappear there. I started out with a class of thirty one year and ended with a class of fifteen. Most years I would have ten, fifteen kids with that Group mark. Here it's like a gang, a bunch of kids you never see. There it's…it's the people that run our lives." I nodded. "This is very interesting and all, but…is there some kind of point hidden in here?" Mr. Benk gave half a laugh. "You looked up my essay idea, didn't you? Did you find it coincidental that the Group came into power at about the same time people started blocking out years?" I shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it's a good thing they blocked those years out. I mean, I still can't figure out what a poker face or how you would fail to read it." Mr. Benk sighed. "I'm serious, Eve." This was actually kind of a rare occurrence. "Well, I don't know. I thought maybe the Group doesn't want people to know about how they came to power or anything, and so they just scare-" "In Virginia, nothing is blocked. They don't bother." "How much does the Group's power vary? Is California the only one left without a lot of influence?" "California, Idaho, and Arizona. Idaho and Arizona got kicked out of the Senate and House of Representatives a couple weeks ago, you know. They have no political influence in the United States anymore. California is hanging by a thread." "How can we not know this?" I exclaimed. "We go over current events in history all the time. This is…bad! Why didn't we know about it?" "The Group is infiltrating everything. They've blocked off communication from the East Coast to the West Coast. Most of the states west of Colorado aren't completely taken over." "How come you know, then?" "My relatives and friends still live in Virginia. We use different phone lines and emails to try and trip up the Group." "They control the country," I said slowly. "Why? Why did this happen? What did they do?" "There were a lot of problems in 2012," he said. "People wanted a solution, and the Group offered the most compelling solution. Only a few places didn't completely sign themselves up blindly. But it will catch up with us eventually. California doesn't have too many years of freedom left. Five, maybe. Seven at most." "They don't need to terrify people to 'offer a solution'," I said. "They're horrible." Mr. Benk shrugged. "Many people don't mind the Group, even in Virginia, especially your generation. You've been told that the Group is your solution for too long. Alice's parents probably told her the Group was a solution. Yours told you they were a problem." "Well, mine were right," I said, momentarily forgetting I was talking to an English teacher. "Maybe. What makes you any more right than Alice?" "I know what the Group is," I answered back. "So do my parents. She does not." Mr. Benk might be somewhat crazy, but he's not completely stupid, and he probably guessed at least halfway what that meant. However, he did not seem to worry about this much. "See you tomorrow, Eve," he said. "See you, Mr. Benk." So, I was kind of speedwalking after that, hoping and praying I would not have to miss the stupid bus. Inside, I was also kind of wanting to knock my head against the wall for being stupid and letting someone else know I was interested in learning more about the Group. Not to join, which would have been excusable, but just to…know. That was bad. Very bad. Fortunately, Mr. Benk was kind of a strange character already, so I wasn't as worried as I could have been. With all of this self-bashing and new information about the Group (Note to self: do not move east) swimming and percolating about in my brain, I noticed a Group girl. Not the one that Alice had been talking to a couple weeks ago, a different one. Black hair. Green streaks. Winged eyeliner, green lipstick. "Hello," she sad, smiling. She looked so different it took a couple seconds for me to place her. She was Chloe, my next door neighbor. I'd never seen her look this crazy- she always wore just enough makeup to look fake, but not Halloween stuff like this. "Hello, Chloe," I said warily. "Have you thought about the Group lately?" she asked me casually, as if we were just talking on the streets near our house. "No. Look, can you get out of my way? I have to catch the bus in like five minutes." "No, thanks," Chloe answered. "So, you may know the Group wants you to join. You may not." "What I do know is that I'm about to miss the bus. Get out of my way!" I tried to go around her, but she did that annoying side-stepping thingy that made moving forward excruciatingly difficult. Ugh. "Look, Eve," Chloe said, sounding annoyed now. "We know you won't join voluntarily. We can't make you join. But we can make you want to." "Good luck with that," I snorted. "That's almost always a recipe for failure, I warn you." Chloe gave a brilliant smile. "We will stop at nothing." "Nothing won't convince me, Chloe, tell them that." It was a stupid joke, but whatever. I managed to get around here and pretty much ran down to the transit center and I…missed the bus, of course. Yippee. Eric as sitting at one of the benches, fiddling with one of those smartphone deals. I don't even have a phone, that’s how backward I am. Wait, no, I do have a phone, it's just a magical invisible phone. You can't see it or touch it or call people or look up funny cat videos on it, but it exists in my heart. "Hey, Eric," I said, sitting down next to him. "Hey, Eve," he greeted back, sounding reasonably pleased to see me. "Nice job missing your bus, by the way. That was a world-class sprint you were doing." I rolled my eyes. "Thank you, from the bottom of my heart." I sighed in irritation. "Stupid Mr. Benk making me late. He's so freakin' long-winded, you know that?" "What was he going on about?" "He's an English teacher, you think I really ever figured out what he was going on about?" "Ha. No. You should see A-track teachers. Mr. De Ruysscher has this big ole banner up in his class that says "Children should be taught how to think, not what to think', or whatever. So annoying. All he does is ramble on about randomness and talk about his life." "His life? Seriously?" "We're supposed to work on projects, but we never have time, cause he's always talking." "Nice. Mr. Benk is actually a reasonably on-track teacher. Better than Miss O'Horror last year. Better than Mrs. Mariss, even. He's sarcastic." "Seriously? Lucky! B-track hogged all the best teachers, I swear. Did you know Tammi is doing a unit on satire and all her kids got to write sarcastic stories and read books of satire and make commercials? God, I so wish De Ruysscher would do that." "That would be freaking awesome," I added in. "I told Mr. Benk about it last week and he said we might get to do it, too." "You'd ace that." "I would definitely ace that. Hey, that's the 82." "82 with all the rich kids," he said, sounding annoyed. "It goes through this totally upper-class neighborhood before hitting mine. Anyway, I guess I'll see you around, Eve." "See ya, Eric." I stole a ride on the 55 bus about ten minutes later. Whee. When I got home, Brian was sitting at the table, doing homework. "Hi, Lina," he said as I walked in. "Wassup, Brian," I said. "Mom got mad about my hair," he said somewhat angrily. "She thinks I joined the Group. It's so stupid. Why would I join the Group?" "Why would anyone join the Group?" I said. "But people still do." I paused for a second. "You didn't, though, right?" "I swear," he said, "on the Atheist Creed of Common Sense." I grinned. The Atheist Creed of Common Sense was one of the jokes my parents played on us. When I was in elementary school, all my friends started talking about religion and the Bible and whatever, and I whined about it to my parents so they "made up" a whole new "special" religion to make me feel better. Like many of the other jokes my parents played on me, it took me several years to figure out the truth. It's kind of funny how long it takes you to really look at stupid ideas your parents or teachers tell you. Still, playing jokes on little kids is really not cool. "They say it's going to rain tomorrow," Brian said. "Ugh. I hate waiting for the bus when it rains, don't you?" "Bike," I suggested. Brian's school is only three or four miles from our house, so he bikes there quite often. "Then you don't have to wait outside in the cold." "Only someone as dumb as you would see that as a solution," Brian retaliated. "Hey, hey, now," I said, shaking a finger at him, "let's not get mean with the sarcastic comments, here." Brian stuck his tongue out at me, because I have the most mature brother in the world and all. I rolled my eyes and walked to my room to do, I don't know, something. We ate dinner a couple hours later, and it was, as usual, one of the funnest things in my day. Amid much chewing and such, Brian ventured to discuss something. "Hey, Mom," he said. "We have a big trip in a couple months, you know-" "What trip?" my mom asked. "You know, the Ashland trip? The one to Oregon? You signed a permission slip and everything?" "Eve never went to Ashland." Brian did not look very happy about this sentence. "I didn't want to go," I clarified, "and my grades majorly sucked. So that' kind of a stupid thing to bring up, you know." "Well, you have to pay a hundred and fifty dollars in two weeks or else I can't go." "We don't have that kind of money," my dad said. "You're not going." "I have a hundred," Brian said. "I just need the fifty." Where did Brian get a hundred dollars? What did he do, rent himself out as a trained assassin? "I might have fifty," my mom said. "Maybe." "A hundred and fifty dollars?" my dad muttered. "What are you doing, travelling by car?" "No," Brian corrected. "They have school buses. It costs a lot because we have to go and see plays and stuff." "Cheaper than mine," I said. "Mine was two hundred." "And they probably jumped at the chance to pay for all of it, too," Brian muttered angrily. "What makes you think that?" my mom asked. "Two hundred dollars is even more money." Please don't turn this into a loud argument, I pleaded in my head. Come on, haven't I suffered enough this month? Arguments at school or in class or whatever are kind of fun. But yelling at home is just annoying. And the argument always ends up blaming me somehow. "You favor her!" Brian yelled out. "You don't care about me at all. Every time I talk, you always start talking about her like I don't matter at all." Exiting convo…now. "I'm done," I announced loudly and tried to leave. My parents, despite the outburst Brian had made about three seconds ago, also attempted to get up and leave the table. "See!" Brian exclaimed. "You completely ignore everything I say." "I do not," my mother snapped. "Yeah, you do," I said. "I mean, I know I'm inordinately awesome and all, but you do seriously ignore him." "You're just overreacting because we don't want to pay for your whole trip," my dad informed Brian. "Now go to bed." "Well, you did bug me about whether I really wanted to go to Ashland and all," I said. "Just setting the record straight. So, yeah, you guys are kind of jerks." "I hate you!" Brian yelled. "I hate all of you!" Then, to make a dramatic exit, he stomped past me to his room, not forgetting to shove me as he passed. There was a pause. "Don't have another kid," I recommended. "The middle child syndrome would probably kill this one off." "You know why we favor you, don't you?" my mom asked me. "Just because he's in his room doesn't mean he's completely deaf, Mom!" I yelled out. For those of you wanting to know what the deal with that last bit is (and some other stuff, too), I will give you the short version of our really long and somewhat pathetic story. My grandmother joined the Group when it was really new and my mother was born there. She met my dad in the Group (that's a good way to meet hot new singles, I assure you), and they made a kind of Rumplestiltskin deal: if they a) were nice little Group-fearing citizens and b) taught their children to be like this, and c) gave up their first child (the one born before me) to the Group, then they would be allowed to leave. And so they did. They also moved to California and changed everyone's names. My name used to be Claire Hopkins. Now it's Evangeline Black. I found some kind of document in the back of the house a long time ago that let me figure out this whole dealio. Brian did not. No one has told him any of this. He doesn't know Mom was born in the Group. He doesn't know that Hannah was left behind, or that she ever existed at all. And he really doesn't know that if he gets too close to the Group, steps too far out of line, he will join her. I get a pass. Brian does not. My parents don't think they'll keep him for long. The next day was a lovely day. We learned boring things in Geometry, took a test on something in biology (something I probably failed), and Sarah and I pretended to work on the imperialism project in history. Mr. Benk was absent. "What do we do in history today?" Kevin asked me and Sarah at lunch. "Work on that project thingy," I said. "he lets us use computers in class. Granted, he has no idea Sarah and I were playing on Facebook and Youtube, because he thinks we are researching." "Yay," Kevin said. "Well, whatever." "What, have you finished the project already?" I asked him. "No. I'm done with the research, though. I'll just work on typing p all of the information today." "Congrats," I said. "Would you like a parade in your honor?" Kevin made a face at me. "There's no need to be sarcastic about everything, Eve." I sighed. "I suppose not. For example, it would be silly to be sarcastic about ostriches and Expo markers. But everything else needs sarcasm, or else it simply does not fulfill its duty." "Sarcasm is awesome," a voice said behind me. "Hey, Eve, did you see the comp lists? They went up yesterday." I turned around and saw Eric. "No." Just the stupid complists sent a wave of depression over me. Alice always signed me up for comp lists. Alice isn't here anymore. Shes not coming back, she's gone, gone- Despite the difficulties involved with this, I managed to shut off the depression reel in my mind fairly efficiently. "No. Please tell me there are spots for improv." "Two left. I considered asking my cousins to sign up so I could make sure you didn't run me out of the comp, but even I have some ethics." I gave half a laugh. "I'll sign up at the transit center. And I'll rock this comp so hard they'll have to give me better than first place." "Ha. Anyway, see you, Ev." "See ya." Kevin rolled his eyes. "Last year, he's your worst enemy. This year, you talk all the time." I mock-rolled my eyes back at him. "Last year, Cal crashed. This year, we're in the same school. See how it works?" "Ev takes her school spirit very seriously," Sarah said, half-laughing. "Yeah. What Sarah said." I turned to her. "You signing up for comps?" "No. I'm gonna be out of town the day of the competition." She made a face. "Lame. So lame." "Hey, Daniel," I said. "Are you going to the comp?" "Yeah. Might as well." He looked at Sarah. "What are you going to be doing?" "It's my cousin's birthday, so we're going up to the mountains to celebrate. Wheee. God, it is inhumanely cold up there." "Seriously," Whitney said. "The cold isn’t so bad, but it's like, my god, you can't walk three steps without getting soaking wet." "Ha. Nice." Kevin started crushing cheezits between his fingers. "What're you guys doing this weekend?" he asked absent-mindedly, focusing almost entirely at the task at hand (stupid pun totally intended). "Exciting things," I said. "I'm going to move to China, kill some dragons, then descend into the Underworld and make an army of the dead. You guys?" "Can I come with?" Sarah asked. "All I have to look forward to is going to the movies with my crazy aunt." Whitney laughed. "Oh, how I love your crazy aunt." "You have a crazy aunt?" I asked Sarah. "Yeah. She's this wacko from Virginia- thinks everyone is a spy and out to get her. She…lost my cousin Emma a couple years ago and really has not been the same. She thinks Emma is everywhere." "Dude," I said. "Why is this chick not in a mental home?" Sarah shrugged. "She's not completely crazy. I mean, she's some kind of chemisist or whatever-" "Chemist," Kevin corrected her. "Yeah. Whatever. Anyway, she's really good at her job and she's somewhat normal most of the time. She really only goes crazy around her family and stuff." "Like Alice's mom?" Kevin asked. "Alice's mom was a special child," I said, half-laughing. "Yeah. A lot like Alice's mom. By the way, did she get any crazier? You went over to her house the other day, right?" "Well," I said, considering. "She called me the daughter of the devil, went postal when the computer beeped, and beat me with a broom. Does that count?" Kevin laughed. "Alice's mom is hilarious." "Anyway, what movie are you seeing? Intrestment?" Whitney asked. "Dehrrr! What other movie would I want to see?" Intrestment is the hot new movie this month. Reportedly, it's about a girl that drowns in the sea and comes back to life completely forgetting about the incident. Then she manages to be able to dream about the truth or something. I hear it's epic. "Lucky!" I exclaimed. "I suh-ooo wanna see that." "Wanna come with?" she asked. "The last thing I want to do is spend an extended period of time alone with my aunt." "Oh, I'm so there," I said. "Where is it? Sunrise Mall or Century Theaters?" "Sunrise at three. We're gonna check out Barnes and Noble afterward." Sarah rolled her eyes. "Can you believe my aunt? She went all the way across the country to watch a movie about a girl that drowns and buy a book on chemistry. Whee." "What do you mean?" Kevin asked. "She didn't want to come and see you?" Sarah shrugged. "Well, she probably did a little bit, but she told me the main reason she came was to see Intrestment and buy some book. Isn't she crazy?" "No kidding," I said. It rained that afternoon, which was wonderful, because it meant I got to have the joyous experience of sitting at the transit center for a very long time in the rain without an umbrella. Oh, I am so unbelievably lucky. I came home, chucked my bike out in the rain where it belongs (I have to bike to the transit center even when it rains), and almost tripped over my brother's. His bus stops like four houses away from ours, so the crazy kid must have biked all the way to school and back in the rain. What a stupid kid. I walked in and yelled out the customary "I'm home!" then tried to guess what he was doing. Judging by the racket he was making, I narrowed it down to two possibilities: either he was playing video games or torturing a herd of elephants. I grabbed some synth snack to eat ad tromped into my room. Brian's video game went off after a few minutes I sighed. "Okay, Brian. You know how Mom and Dad escaped from the Group a while back?" He does have a vague idea of that. "Well…there was another girl. Before me. Lily. Mom and Dad wanted to leave, and the Group let them, but they had o give up Lily to do it. And they promised the Group that they would give up their youngest child, whoever that ended up being- if they went out of line again." "They- what?" Brian exclaimed. "They would…what?" "They really don't want you to know. But, well, now you do. Isn't it gratifying?" I said sarcastically. "No. It's not gratifying at all. It's horrible." He glared at me. "Why didn't you tell me before? Why did you wait until now?" "I doubted that you would really want to know. Did you?" "I guess not." He sighed. "I wonder what happened to Lily." "Who knows." I shrugged. "I'm gonna go dye my hair. I'm tired of gold." After a period of deliberation, I eventually came to sport bleached base, red bangs, and purple streaks toward the back. I dye my hair so often I've forgotten what it is naturally. Probably brown or something boring like that. Well, whatever. Dinnertime was unnaturally silent as I pondered the Group again. Maybe it was just my natural arrogance and narcissism and all, but I couldn't help but suspect the Group was specifically after my family. My mother was born there. Lily had been there all her life. They made a deal to try and get Brian or some fourth child if possible, and some girl had come up to me saying the Group wanted me to join. Maybe they were just really nice people. "A girl came up to me the other day," I said. "A girl from the Group." No one said anything, but my dad almost bent his spoon in half. "She said they would stop at anything for me to join," I added. "That's it!" my dad yelled, throwing the poor, innocent spoon on the table. "Stop it with the Group! I will not have them coming into my life again! Never, ever, ever again!" "Why do they want to come into your life?" I asked, all innocence and sweetness. "Or my life or Brian's?" My mother sighed. "Eve…" "Well? Is everyone targeted like this? Is this what everyone in America goes through, having the Group try to get at every person in their family?" "Not every family," my mom said. "Just the….the ones they have to watch out for." "Why do they have to watch out for us? We're not bad." "The Group…" my mom struggled to explain. "They're…they have a job to perform. And there are people that might get in the way of that job. And that's all they want out of us: to not get in their way. And that's what we need to do: to just not get in anyone's way." "Someone needs to take the Group down," I muttered. "Be quiet, Eve," my dad said. "That's exactly they they're against us: because of that. No one is going to take the Group down, and no one in this family is going to try, you understand?" "Blah blah blah, whatever whatever whatever. I'm going to my room." I got up really late the next day, t about twelve o clock, and I had to race around trying to get ready. I've taken the bus to Sunrise before, and I swear, it is the most annoying thing ever. I got there at about one thirty and met up with Sarah and her aunt at Dos Coyotes, one of the restauraunts there. "Hey, Eve," Sarah said as soon as I sat down. "How's life?" "Good." "Eve, this is Jen, my aunt. Aunt Jen, this is Eve. We're all very happy to get to know each other." "Hello," Jen said. "Nice to meet you." "Hi." "Nice hair," Sarah commented. "You haven't dyed it that light since seventh grade." "Well, it's light now." Jen tapped her fingers on the table. "When does the movie start?" she asked Sarah. She had an odd voice, very urgent. Sarah sighed. "It starts at two. That's exactly twenty seven minutes and eleven seconds from now. Can we relax?" I gave a small laugh. "So, they don't have Intrestment in Virginia?" I asked, just to clarify. "No. California, Idaho, and Arizona are blocked off from everywhere else. The Group doesn't want your influence to spread to us, and you don't want out influence to spread to you." "We should just create a whole new country," I muttered. "America would be a pretty pathetic country without California, though." Sarah gave half a laugh. "The Group will never let California or Arizona secede," Jen said. "Arizona has Petrocol fields. California's companies control them, and most of the factories are located here as well." "Petrocol fields? What do you mean? I thought Petrocol was manufactured, not…harvested or whatever." Jen shook her head. "Most of it is manufactured. But they need a chemical to be able to manufacture it. The Group wants that chemical to be under their power." "What chemical is it?" Jen shrugged. "I don't know. But there's a book here that will tell me. That's why I wanted to come, so I can find that book and find out more about Petrocol." The Group doesn't want people to get in their way. "Why?" "It worries me how little public knowledge there is about Petrocol. It makes me think there's something bad going on. Why else would it be so secret?" Sarah sighed. "Yeah. Right. Eve, you wanna get a soda or something? There's a vending machine around the corner." "Kay. I brought extra money. Do they have 7-UP?" "Don't know. Let's go see." We walked out of the dining area towards the back. I looked around. "Sarah, where's the vending machine?" Sarah rolled her eyes. "I made that up. Look, why are you egging her on? What do you care about Petrocol and the Group and whatnot?" I shrugged. "I don't know. You don't find it interesting?" Sarah sighed in irritation. "Dude, Eve, she's crazy. It may be interesting, but it's crazy nonsense." "She doesn't sound crazy." "She's a major conspiracy theorist about the Group. You know what she said? She says the Group threatened to take Emma if she didn't quit her job. Don't you find that crazy?" No…that sounds like my life… "Okay, that's weird. Mildly weird." "Mildly? Try extremely! The Group doesn't make deals with people, they aren't, I don't know, Satan! Besides, what would they care whether or not my aunt has a job?" "Well, she seemed awfully interested in Petrocol," I said slowly. "And the Group is too…and, I don't know, maybe they want her to stay out of it." Sarah rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't listen to her crazy talk." She checked her watch. "Thank god, only ten more minutes with this madwoman." "You don't think the Group would do that? But….maybe the Group acts differently in Virginia. They're more powerful there, you know." Sarah rolled her eyes. "Ugh, whatever. Come on, I guess we're going to have to go back." Sarah rolled her eyes. "I can't believe you would listen to my stupid aunt," she muttered. We walked back. Sarah's aunt was drawing on some napkins. "What's that?" I asked. "Nothing," Jen muttered. "Let's go to the theater," Sarah suggested. That way we can, like, get good seats or whatever." "Okay," Jen said, dropping the napkin in her water before dropping it in the trash. "Let's go." I was still staring at her now-empty glass. "Uh…why did you ut yor napkin in the water?" "So the can't find it," Jen said. "Even if you rip it up, sometimes they tape it back together." Sarah rolled her eyes and even I seemed doubtful of this one. If the Group was really watching her that closely, would they let her go to California? Please. So, we filed in, and Sarah and I found separate seats from her aunt. "Has she always been this…paranoid?" I asked Sarah as soon as we sat down. "No. She was always a little bit crazy, I guess, but she's only been doing stuff like, you know-" "Dumping napkins into a glass of water?" "Yeah, stuff like that. She's moving to California, too. She's going, like, further north and stuff, but still." Sarah covered her face in her hands. "Oh, I hate my mother." "What does your mother have to do with it?" "You need a relative in order to leave the East Coast." Sarah snorted. "And a signature for an insane asylum, probably. Anyway, mom had to do a bunch of crazy stuff." Sarah rolled her eyes. "It's easier to leave the country altogether than to move to California. It's insane." "The Group doesn't want people to leave," I said in a low voice. There's another strike against me. Sarah rolled her eyes. "They aren't that bad. Don't listen to my stupid aunt." I shrugged, but I couldn't help thinking about it anyway. The movie started, and it was okay. It had some kinda awesome sci-fi ness and some nice action, but it got all screwed up about halfway through. The girl fell in love, and got all heartsick, and the story went from being super interesting to being some dopey love story. It was difficult for me to not give up on it. "Whadja think of it?" Sarah asked as we walked out of the movie. "The beginning was good," I said. "But once that stupid guy walked into the story, and she got all weepy and drippy and everything, the whole story got all lame." "I know! It's so irritating how they have to put love and romance in everything! It would have been a great story without all the romance." "Catering to teens," I sighed. "Because apparently all teens in the world only watch movies if they have enough romance in them to kill a horse." Sarah laughed. "How can romance kill a horse?" "It'll find a way." Sarah's aunt started walking toward Barnes and Noble and we walked with her. She seemed very determined. "Are you sure this book exists?" Sarah asked Jen. "This sounds like the most bizarre book ever." "I know it exists. I know it's here." Sarah shook her head. "Come on," she said, pulling on my arm. "Let's check out the CD's." "Kay." We were looking around, somewhat bored, and Jen joined us a few minutes later. "Got it. I told you it existed." She was holding a dictionary. "Uh, Jen?" I said. "Are you sure that's the book you were looking for?" "The book that convinced you to move to California?" Sarah added. Jen nodded. "It's more than it seems." Sarah shrugged. "Well…if you're sure…I mean…" Okay, Jen was definitely beating Alice's mom in insanity and bizarreness. She went and paid for the book, the saleslady yammering on the way salesladies always do, about savings cards and discounts and events and other randomness no one cares about at all. Jen smiled but made no promises. Sarah and I talked on the way out and she persuaded me to go to the mall next to the movie-theater-restaurant building. "I don't wanna go shopping," I whined, but Sarah made me go anyway. "You need new shoes," she insisted. "I have converse," I pointed out. "If you have a pair of black converse, you're covered forever shoe-wise." "No you're not." "I don't have any money, and I don't want to waste anything on extraneous shoes." "I have money." I glared at her, but I ended up getting dragged around anyway. Ugh. First watching a movie with romance, now shopping for extra shoes. I was turning into a freaking girl. Sarah quickly discovered the difficulty of making me shop. "You should get these. They're cute." "They aren't black or white. They won't go with all of my clothes." "What about these? These are black. See?" "But they have a dorky pattern and they aren't really sneakers. They'll just annoy me all the time." "These are nice," she said, pointing to a different pair. "I can't walk a mile from the transit center twice a day in those." After about half an hour of this, Sarah finally gave up. "Okay. Fine. Now I know why you wear nothing but converse." "Plain black converse with plain white laces." "Anyway. I'm bored." "Let's go to the electronics store over there! That's not boring." Sarah shook her head morosely. I looked around. "Hey, where's your aunt? Wasn't she right behind us like ten minutes ago?" "Oh, god," Sarah said, whirling around. "If I lose her my mom is going to kill me. Where'd she go?" "I dunno. She probably died of boredom while we were looking at shoes, so they went to cremate her or something." Sarah rolled her eyes. "You know, enjoying shopping is not the most bizarre thing in the world." "It is for those of us with an IQ over seven." Sarah rolled her eyes again and looked around again. "Oh, there she is. Reading that stupid dictionary. I do not understand why she would buy a dictionary or read it." "Because she's crazy?" "I guess." Sarah rolled her eyes. "And now I'm going to get to see more of her, each and every day. Oh, how I look forward to it." "Hearing it," I answered back. "Totally. Ugh, we're having a super-fun reunion with my grandpa and grandma and uncle tomorrow too. So fun!" I rolled my eyes. "You're lucky you even have family to be reunited with. My grandparents are dead, my aunt moved to Europe, and my parents are…well…my parents." Sarah gave half a laugh. "Oh yes, I do know." I got home a while after that. Brian was watching a movie in my room. "Dude, Brian," I said. "Why are you in my room?" "I found a blank VHS in the bottom of the movie cabinet," he said. "And I wanted to watch it." I peered at the movie screen, but I didn't see anything but static. "Uh, Brian?" I said. "You do realize that's just static, don't you?" He tilted his head to the side. "Yeah. It's crappy quality. It reverts like this periodically." Periodically. What a fancy word for an eleven year old. "Why were you rooting around in the movie cabinet like that?" I asked. "I was organizing it." "Uh…why?" "Because it's messy. And I didn't have anything better to do." He switched off the TV. "You can have your room back now. I don't need to intrude." "You were cleaning out the video cabinet just because?" I raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you sure you're really my little brother, or were you just switched at birth?" Brian shrugged. "I wonder what Lily thinks." "Shh," I said. "Look, you can't go around talking about…her. Seriously. If Mom and Dad know you know they will explode. They will, like, blow up and light the whole city on fire and stuff. It will not be pretty." Brian stared at the TV screen for a few seconds. "Lily was in the video," he said in a slow voice. I think I almost choked. "What do you mean, Lily was in the video? How can she be? She's in the Group isn't she? Do they have video games in the Group?" Brian shrugged. "It was a strange video," he said in a slow voice. "No kidding. What was it about?" "I don't know," he said in the same slow, robotic voice. "Well, anyway," I said, wanting to move the conversation as far away from Lily, videos, and general strangeness. "Do you have any homework?" "Yes. I have a story due Tuesday." "Want me to read it?" "I want to edit it a few more times," he said, sounding a little less creepy. "But then it would be good if you could edit it." "What's it about?" "We had to write a short story where we put ourselves in the Giver world and tried to make it as close to how we would react as we could." "Cool. What happened to you?" "I adapted," he said. That would so never happen to me. I read some of the Giver, and from what I could gather I would be released/killed or whatever in about twenty seconds. I would just kind of run my mouth and refuse to do anything until they either a) stopped being little robots and started beating me with a baseball bat like everyone in the world wants to or else b) put their hands over their ears and screeched "Stop! She's killing me! Take her away, away, away!" Actually, that might be kind of fun. "Nice," I said. "You wouldn't adapt," Brian said. I shrugged one shoulder. "You know me. Anyway, come get me when you got the story down man, got it?" "Getcha," he said before exiting my room. I sat there for a second trying to decide whether I should a) do homework, b) read, or c) watch that movie Brian had been watching. On the one hand, homework was so much fun and would be so completely rewarding. And reading- well, I was just the world's biggest reader, of course! And that movie, psh, who wanted to watch a mysterious movie that could be about Lily or the Group that was just there…that couldn't be interesting at all…especially not compared to reading or homework… I was at my crappy little TV hitting play about three seconds later. The video started out with static, just plain static before suddenly and almost randomly showing a plain black background with "Lily Hopkins" written in curling script.I watched some exciting static before being rewarded by a plain black screen. Finally it showed a picture, so washed out it was almost black and white and completely blurry. There was a six-year old kid flipping through some kind of textbook and doing math. She looked a lot like me and Brian. Her face seemed about the same, and she had brown hair the way we did. The video went to static for a few seconds then back to the picture. "…student ever, little Lily," the guy was saying, apparently coming in halfway through his sentence. "I'm so good at math," she said, looking very self-satisfied. "You are goi-" the man said, before the video went to static for about two minutes straight. I was about to give up when it finally went back to the picture. Lily looked a little older, maybe Brian's age. She was teaching a class of people about something, and they were all frantically taking notes. Everyone but Lily looked to be almost twenty. Clearly Lily had hogged all the intelligence genes in the family. The man holding the camera said "Lily's the best teacher we ever had," and laughed. The video went to static again. After a few seconds of that, the screen went completely black. I could hear vague talking and couldn't hear what the people were saying for about twenty seconds before I could finally hear it sharpen. "…know who they are," a girl pleaded. Lily, maybe. "They're just figures to me. I want to meet them." "They're bad people. You're the only good one. The others are dangerous." "But they're-" the audio got screwed up for a few seconds. "I have to know who they are!" "You know who they are already. They aren't as smart as you, aren't as dedicated as you, aren't as loyal as you, aren't as obedient as you, aren't as good as you. You don't want-" the audio got screwed up again. "…their names?" the girl sounded hopeful. The man sighed. "Bonnie. Matthew. Evangeline. Brian. Now go to sleep." "You won't let me meet them?" "What would you do if you met them?" the man asked, sounding angry. "Hug them and throw a bikg party. Would you leave everyone here, would you leave me, for dangerous troublemakers you don't even know?" "No. But-" "Go to bed, Lily." And it went to static again. After a few seconds of that the screen showed a different name. "Mackenzie Craig," it proclaimed in the same curling script. "Sorry Mackenzie," I said, shutting off the TV. "No one cares about you."

I'll update this one eventually.