Of Delicate Pieces (5 page)

Skye huffed and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Not all of us.”

Despite Skye’s disagreement, the Grandiuse became quiet. Dr. Massin had the full attention of the newburies, due to her tricks or due to her breathtaking—though still annoyingly blurry—projection. “Why is this subject important? Well. You need to learn the values, the norms, the rules of
this
society, a culture of people who live in their minds but carry the predetermined guidelines from the living.”

“Massin?” Tess drew out the name as though trying to place it.

“Civil rights?” Linton asked her.

Tess nodded. “Anti.”

“What civil rights?” Chase asked.

“If she’s the Massin I’ve been warned about,” Tess snarled, “she adamantly, and very vocally, opposed the advancement of the gifted during the Civil Rights Movement.”

Dr. Massin vanished. She reappeared, hovering over Madison Constance. “The topic is always presented to those of you preparing for the Categorization. After all, we naturally categorize each other. You’d be lying if you told me you didn’t have an opinion of me before I began to speak due to my style of dress and the way I spoke. Sociology is always a part of the newbury learning process, but due to certain events, the advisors ordered me to visit the entire congregation of the Grandiuse tonight to encourage you to begin your studies a bit earlier.”

Xavier Darwin turned his critical gaze to Alex. Linton and Tess followed suit, and Alex flinched at the pinpricks of scrutiny. Their interest was as sharp as their noses.

“What?” Alex finally demanded of them.

Tess stretched over Skye’s lap, the edges of her black hair grazing Alex’s shoulder.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you, we came upon some information I think you’ll find illuminating.”

Tess quieted as Madame Paleo strode past their table in her ugly power suit and joined Dr. Massin, who faded even more. “That’s about all the time Dr. Massin has tonight. We need to allow her to return to her obligations at the Dual Tower.” She faced the flickering projection of a woman. “We thank you, Doctor, for joining us for a few minutes. I know it was difficult.”

“My pleasure.” Dr. Massin smiled. “I’ll see you guys soon.”

Kaleb strained to watch her, so much that he had practically draped himself over the table. When she snapped out of sight, he flopped down, thumping his head against the table. “Damn.”

A lectern appeared on the podium. Paleo petted it and sighed. “Being a spirit is more liberating than the confines of humanity. Long ago, spirits were free to do whatever they pleased. Then, as we’ve discussed in history, mankind expanded. Eidolon was created, but our settlement, the largest and most powerful in the western hemisphere, is only one of many. We choose to live the urban life. However, should your Categorization lead you elsewhere, you do have options.”

“Categorization?” Alex asked. “What is that?”

Kaleb grabbed a sheet of paper from Gabe and began scribbling. “Newbury Categorization.” He folded the paper into a note and slid it across the table to Skye. She opened it with a frightened expression but laughed upon reading whatever it said.

Alex tried to peek at it, but couldn’t see what he’d written. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You won’t need to worry about it,” Tess intervened. “None of us will. We’re not going anywhere.”

That still didn’t answer Alex’s question. She turned to her left to look at Chase.
Do you know about this?
she asked.

I’ve heard bits from other newburies. After a certain number of workshops, we are evaluated for our placements.

Why?

To know what we will do and where we will end up after the workshops are finished.

Alex didn’t like the sound of this.
It’s a choice?

They choose for us.

This was news to her. Chase waved his hand as if to indicate she shouldn’t worry about it and pointed to the podium, encouraging her to listen.

“There are many suburban settlements. They are smaller establishments that promote a simple afterlife with simple governments and representatives who act as liaisons. They are affectionately termed colonies, although some argue that the connotation of the word is demeaning. Our own city here in Eidolon is, of course, the most sought after home in the afterworld.”

Tess must have decided this conversation was not of importance to them because she folded herself over Skye’s lap to speak to Alex again. “We want to invite you to join us later this week.”

“Where?”

“Legacy meeting.”

Alex heard Chase snort beside her. She jabbed him, but he grabbed her elbow and tucked his arm under hers.

“This week is going to be overwhelming with the new workshops,” Alex said. “Can’t you just tell me now?”

Tess shook her head. “This isn’t something I can tell you. I need to show you.”

Alex glanced at Chase and then shrugged back to Tess. “I might have to wait for another meeting.”

“Suit yourself. Just let me know.”

Madame Paleo addressed a question about lingerers and wanderers and thoughts popped over her head like bubbles.

Tess put what looked like a formal invitation down on the table. She pressed her fingers over the golden cursive lettering and pushed it down the table toward Alex. “FYI, it’s about your family history. These are directions to the room.”

The air around Alex began to spark. Chase’s shirt grew a hood, which he lifted as though the sparks might ignite his hair.

“I want to know now.”

“Like I said, you need to see it.”

What about her limited family history would have to be seen and not spoken? She glanced sideways at Tess’s pointy profile, disliking her immensely and willing her to give in and confess what she knew, but Tess shook her head with an expression that read,
be patient
.

To Alex’s surprise, Chase picked up the invite. “Tess, Paleo said this Massin lady is going to teach us how to treat one another. Do you think she’s here because of Alex?”

The large doors of the Grandiuse creaked open. Funny, the doors did not make such noises when anyone else entered. They deliberately drew attention to the situation because the children who stepped through the threshold were not about to be given a warm welcome. A cold gust of wind rustled the hair of the sisters by the doorway, extinguishing their candles and weaving its way through the crowd in warning. It crawled up Alex’s spine to tickle the nape of her neck.

The Eskers kids were back.

“Nope,” Tess whispered to Chase. “I think she’s here because of them.”

The Eskers kids shuffled in slowly with their heads bowed, all except Jack Bond, who stared out into the crowd, unaware of the hatred they felt for him. Alex felt the bitterness, the disgust from newburies around her, saturating the room. Joey Rellingsworth looked ready to cry, but the last time Alex saw him, he was throwing copper stones at her, trying to kill her. A hat appeared over Hecker Smithson’s large head, and he pulled it down as far as he could. Several of the other Eskers kids had sunglasses.

Alex watched the group move to the back of the room. They didn’t even try to find a place among their peers. They were not equals anymore. They were outsiders, which ironically was the very last thing they’d wanted when the brotherhood found them. Ardor Westfall told Alex last spring, the only way those kids could have seen the writing in their notebooks was if they were looking for it, looking for a place to fit in and belong. They found a niche all right, but it dug them deep into a hole of isolation.

If Jack had not meant to hurt her, to hurt Chase, and Jonas and Kaleb, he would be ashamed of himself. The others seemed ashamed but not Jack. He didn’t look apologetic; he wasn’t embarrassed. He snarled at her, looking positively furious.

Jack Bond wasn’t worth the energy to hate him. Chase knew this. He’d been wary of Jack from day one, and he ignored it. Stupid. Jack had hidden behind his freckles, his nerdy horse teeth, and Alex’s pity. Chase should have known better than to trust Alex’s expectations of people. He wished he had half as much faith in the human mind as she did, but he lived in reality, a colorful one. A truthful one. Where Alex saw smiles and listened to tone, Chase saw greed and ambition and pain.

His irritation pooled at his feet as they walked the streets, but the fog overpowered it. Gabe called the fog a ubiquitous force. His brother used words others didn’t care to say in normal conversation even with genius brains. The strength of Chase’s dead eyes allowed him to see the actual water droplets in the mist. They waded through the haze that crystallized a calm blue, a billowing baby blanket. Blue, he assumed, meant peace. Some days, he resented the colors dancing before him because it took the mystery out of people. He knew their mood and their intentions before they spoke. But nature was different, more honest, so he liked it better.

“Did you see how he looked at me?” Alex asked.

“Don’t even think about Jack.”

How dare Jack glare at her. How dare he look at her at all. Chase could still feel the heat of his anger blazing underneath his cheeks, but it didn’t compare to the fire he felt at the Grandiuse. He’d launched himself from the bench and took aim at Jack, shoving the air so hard he accidentally knocked over Joey and Hecker too.

His brothers did nothing to stop him. In fact, Kaleb bolted forward with his fists raised, ready to finish what Chase started. It was the Darwins who held them back, calmed them and spoke sense. The
Darwins
playing peacemakers? How quickly things changed.

Why did Alex care about how Jack Bond looked at her? He watched her wave to Josepha and Johanna as they passed their store. Somewhere along the way, Alex had picked up a need for acceptance, and his acceptance alone wasn’t enough anymore.

“What’s wrong?” Alex murmured. “Why do you look like that?”

“You’re making fun of my looks now?”

“I can feel it. Why are you worried?”

“One of us should be.”

“Chase?” Alex lifted her head.

He kept his gaze above her head and felt his jaw clench in response.

Look at me.

“Or what?”

She stopped walking and turned to face him. He couldn’t help himself, and he couldn’t think of a reason to hold back. He tugged at the bottom of her shirt to make her fall into him. He heard her sigh as he buried his face in her neck. He didn’t need to breathe but thank God he remembered how. She smelled like honeysuckle and sugar. He placed his hand gently around the base of her neck and lifted her chin to kiss her. She tasted like sugar, too. He could feel her grinning through the kiss, and it was contagious.

God, he loved her.

Truthfully, it frightened him. Vulnerability. No one wore it well, but Chase had never been one to care about how he appeared. Despite his fear, he gladly accepted it and with each kiss, with each turn of his head, he became more and more addicted. He opened his mouth wider to savor the cool sweetness that scorched his anger.

She was the one to pull away, and the space surrounding them sizzled. Her hair fell forward, grazing his face. “People are staring.”

Her face was still so close to his that he could only stare at her pink lips as she spoke. He savored the marvelous sensation drumming through him. “So?”

He turned his head to kiss her again, but she retracted. He hoped she’d change her mind, but she tugged at his hand to keep moving.

Damn it.

“Tell me about this Categorization,” she said, wrapping herself around his forearm.

He groaned and continued slowly down Lazuli Street. “What about it?”

In his peripheral, he saw the space around Alex redden. It wasn’t violent but rose-petal soft with an undertone of confusion. Alex’s passion came in many shades.

“It sounds repressive to me,” she replied with a huff—also red. “I mean, who are they to say someone doesn’t have enough potential to do what they
choose
to do?”

“Not everyone is
meant
to do what they
want
.” This was the very reason Chase resented the fact that the afterworld government knew about his colorful sight. He didn’t want to read and report people for the rest of his existence. “I’m sure the process saves some spirits the time trying to figure out where they belong.”

“Always the voice of reason.”

They skipped over stray bricks littering Lazuli’s crooked street of mossy walls and misshapen doorways. The ivy twisted around the legs of the lampposts like shy children. Two zigzagging gray lines lifted from the road and stretched over the rooftops like tracks in the dirt rising into the heavens. Chase wondered where the makeshift road led and how it got there.

“Look at the business owners,” Chase suggested as they passed the shops of various heights, sizes, and shapes. “They weren’t chosen as Ardors or Movers or Meditators, and they seem to enjoy their afterlife just fine.”

Death was easy for them, a party. Chase could see Kaleb and his lackadaisical attitude being content on Lazuli Street for the rest of his life. As long as he owned a substantial amount of attention.

“You’re playing devil’s advocate,” Alex noted, and he didn’t refute. “What good is living for a few additional centuries without purpose?”

She sounded like Ellington. Alex had always been impressionable, and Ellington imprinted his thoughts on others whenever he spoke. It was having an effect on her. What if their purpose was to enjoy the simple pleasures?

“I heard that.”

He let go of her to massage his temples. Sometimes, it was a pain in the ass to have someone else in his mind. He didn’t wander into her head too much because, with her eyes, he saw the world through a rose-colored lens. It gave him a headache, like wearing reading glasses without needing them.

Strolling next to her, wading through her passionate air, was it lame to think
this
was
his purpose? To be hers. To protect her and love her?

Ellington would have a fit if Chase shared these thoughts with him. Complacency, that’s what he’d label it, but Ellington didn’t understand. Chase felt the weight of the world in these colors. The sorrow, regret, and disappointment seeping out into the universe from living beings, those poisons didn’t rest on his shoulders, they weighed on his soul. There was so much sadness in the world, and he could feel it all. The only thing that made him feel better was the idea that he could be a protector. It made him think he had some sort of control over things.