Shymers (12 page)

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Authors: Jen Naumann

BOOK: Shymers
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“Not so loud,” Bree says quietly, pleading with her eyes. “You’ll get us all into trouble.”

I glance over at the other groups of Shymers, but they are too far away from us to hear anything. My eyes stumble across Harrison to find him staring at me yet again. Although his mouth and jaw are both held tight, there is a glimmer behind his eyes.

All at once, I can truly feel it.

Harriso
n
doesn’
t
hate me. He is trying to pretend he does only because he has started to feel something for me, just as Bree said. It’s a feeling that a Shymer isn’t really given the luxury of having and a feeling I have never known myself until now. It would explain the strange ways my body keeps reacting to him when he is near. All this dislike and anger toward me is artificial. He doesn’t know what else to do.

I dip my chin and give him shy smile. His eyes snap off of mine as he stands and darts away from our group.

 

 

 

Harrison

8 – More Than Friends

 

 

I have tried everything I can think of to get Olive out of my mind since the day Bree first brought her to us. But it’s hopeless. Even when I close my eyes at night, I can still see her bright smile and hear her gentle voice. I can’t deny that I feel something really deep for her either. It started when she almost fainted outside of the shuttle. Holding her in my arms sparked all kinds of foreign feelings that I couldn’t push away. She smelled amazing and her skin was so soft. I even let my hand brush against her smooth hair just to see what it would feel like, and was surprised to find it incredibly soft as well.

As much as I try to ignore the strange pounding of my heart when she is near, my need to see her more only grew when she started talking about Society and how she thinks the way we’re treated is wrong. Olive is the first Shymer I’ve come across who is passionate about things and even shares the same views as the Rebels. This makes it even more difficult to not want to be with her.

Her passion stirred up all the memories of my father, and how I was ready to join the Rebels just before my family died. My mother’s last wish stays with me, however, and I know there is nothing I can do.

I know it’s natural for guys to have feelings for girls. Still, what would anything between two Shymers accomplish? It’s not like we have any kind of a future together. I will never even live long enough to see my adulthood. Olive may not have much time left either. It’s not like we could ever get married and start a family. That kind of life is only possible for Futures. Any kind of a relationship between us would be pointless and a waste of her time.

I thought I was doing a good job of avoiding her and ignoring any thoughts of us being together until today at lunch when she smiled at me. With just the curl of her lips and the sparkle of her bright green eyes, those feelings I’ve worked so hard to push aside came rushing back to the surface to the point they were choking me. I had to run away from there and clear my head.
 

Just before I left, I caught a glimpse of her beautiful face. Her eyes were watering and her lips were pressed together. My stomach was hit with a load of bricks when I realized I had upset her. Why am I always hurting her?

With the day’s lessons finished, I ride on the shuttle in the usual spot next to Zeke. As always, he complains about the way the government is not doing anything more active about the Rebels. I usually try to keep my mouth shut around him, knowing it will only set him off if he were to learn what I really think of Society, but my feelings have been all over the place lately—especially when I catch sight of the back of Olive’s blond head from her usual spot beside Bree.

“Do you ever think that maybe Society is wrong?” I suddenly ask Zeke.

His face, full of angry, red blemishes as always, is frozen and his eyes are wide. He can’t believe I would actually say such a thing to him.

Trying to make light of my obvious mistake, I shrug. “I mean, wh
y
shouldn’
t
the rest of us deserve a chance at a good life? Just because it’s shorter doesn’t make it any less valuable.”

“You sound like
a
Rebe
l
,” Zeke snaps.

I press my fingers to my eyelids. I shouldn’t have opened my mouth. “Yeah, well, I think if you looked a little more into the history of Society, you would find it was once a much different place. Things don’t have to be like this.”

“It was a place filled with corrupt, wealthy leaders and poor citizens who took handouts until the country went bankrupt. That plan didn’t fare too well for Society.”

I sigh. There is no way around this. Zeke is set in his ways, and I’m not going to argue with him anymore. It’s useless. I watch Olive for the rest of the ride. A few times she nudges Bree with her shoulder, and once she shakes her head as she laughs. Her hair brushes over her shoulders, looking like strands of silk. I smile when the trill of her voice floats back toward me.

When the shuttle jolts to a stop, I pretend to fumble with my tablet just to steal a little extra time. Zeke stands and scowls down at me. “You coming or what?”

“Go ahead. I’ll be there in a minute,” I say.

He shrugs and turns to file out. I’m glad he’s gone before Bree and Olive come down the aisle, talking to each other in hushed voices. Bree’s expression is blank when she spots me. A slow moment later, Olive’s eyes draw up to mine. There is a forced smile on her lips, and once again, I can see the hurt in her eyes. All at once she looks away and races toward the shuttle door with Bree close behind.

I leap from my seat to follow them, pushing my way through the dozens of other kids who have filled in between us. “Olive!” I didn’t plan to call her name out, but there is a pinching inside my chest that started up when I thought I wouldn’t catch her in time. I stand on the balls of my feet to try and get a glimpse of her blond hair.

I push my way through just in time to see Bree and Olive hugging again before saying goodbye. I hold my breath and watch, amazed at the ritual that is so foreign to Shymer friends. Olive is so filled with the passion that I could always find in my little sister, and occasionally even in my mother.

I breathe out the nerves that are filling me and stride over to her. “Can I walk you back?”

Her head snaps in my direction. At first I fear she’s annoyed by the idea and will say no. Then her face softens, and I realize she is just surprised that I am talking to her again after I ran off earlier. “Sure.”

We walk together, without conversation. I purposely let the back of my hand brush up against hers. A thrill races through me from just the light touch of her skin against mine.

After submitting to the eye scans and passing the guards, we enter the alley.

Olive turns to give me a confounded look. “I don’t understand you.”

I shrug and look down. I don’t understand myself some days. I want to tell her all the strange feelings I have for her, and how I can’t wait to see her every morning at breakfast. I want to tell her how good it felt to hold her in my arms. Afraid I will actually say one of these things out loud, I hold my lips together.

“Are we friends?” she asks, her voice a mere whisper.

My eyes flicker up to meet hers. Their green color is so clear and brilliant that it reminds me of pictures from Grandpa Red’s book when the grass was once a bright green under a less harsh sunlight, and people were actually able to grow crops outdoors.

I want to tell her no, that I want to be much more than friends. Instead I ask, “Do yo
u
wan
t
to be?”

She chews on her lip. My heart squeezes when I fear she will say that she doesn’t want to be friends, and that she doesn’t ever want to see me again. Her eyes close for an excruciating moment. Is she going to cry?

When her eyes finally flutter open, her smile is fresh and warm. “I would really like that, Harrison.” If she only knew what her smile did to me.

“I would too,” I say. I can’t smile in return. If I do, it will be a horribly toothy grin, and she’ll see right through me. She’ll realize just how much I really like her.

Satisfied with my answer, Olive turns back toward the orphanage and we continue on.

 

* * *

 

At dinner, Olive tells me about her parents. From the animated way she speaks, it is obvious there was always a lot of love between them. I don’t say much in return. It’s hard for me to hear about her family living freely in the way my mother had always wanted. I’m happy that she has these memories. I still feel a pang of jealousy—until I remember her father is dead, her mother is in suspension and she is forced to live in the same orphanage as I am.

“What was it really like?” I ask. “You know…living in the Free Lands.”

When her bright smile crosses her lips, I have to remind myself to breathe again. I look down and see her fingers are callused from the hours she spends scrubbing the girls’ lavatory every day. A shadow grows under her eyes from what I expect to be little rest at night. Yet she still manages to look amazing.

“It was so lovely in the forest. We could do whatever we wanted. I would spend hours just exploring and fishing down in the creek. Sometimes I would just sit and listen to the bubbling water and the sounds of the animals around me. It was so calm. Peaceful. You would love it.”

I nod thoughtfully before taking another bite of my meat.

“Harrison?” she asks gently. I look back up at her, elated by the way my name sounds rolling off her tongue. “I still think you should make your own playlist.”

My fork drops to my plate and I rub at my temples. This is not something I want to talk about and it’s most definitely not something I want to do. However, I am determined not to lash out at her again. “I already told you, there’s no point in it.”

She leans over the table, her enticing scent filling my lungs. “What if we ran away together?” she whispers. Her eyes glimmer with excitement that brings the annoying flurry to my stomach I constantly get when in her presence.

Just the idea of running away with her terrifies me. My insides twist with the thought of her being caught by the government. If anything were to happen to her…I don’t know what I would do. At the same time, the thrill I feel with the mere mention of the idea is hard to ignore. I would love more than anything for the chance to be with her like that. Maybe in the Free Lands, we would have a chance to be together the way our parents were, even if it were for just a short time.

I push myself back from the table. My thoughts have become completely out of control. “We’re not having this conversation. It’s too dangerous.”

After scooping up my tray, I storm away from her.

 

* * *

 

At breakfast in the morning, Olive is nowhere to be seen. I scan the dining hall at least a dozen times before throwing my untouched tray of food in the garbage. After jogging down to the shuttle station, I find her sitting alone on a bench. Her shoulders are slumped and the bright smile I dream about doesn’t cross her face when her eyes meet mine.

“I thought we were friends,” she mutters, looking away.

“We are. I’m just…I don’t know what other way to be, Olive.”

“Is that your way of telling me you’re sorry?” Her eyes draw back to mine. Again, she is devastated by something I’ve done. “I know you’re new at thi
s
frien
d
thing, but friends ar
e
kin
d
to each other. They don’t see how many ways they can be hurtful. I’m tired of you running off when you’re mad at me, Harrison. I’m angry, too, but we could actually be there for each other if you would just give us a chance.”

I chuckle under my breath. Sweet Olive, so determined and brave. She was raised differently than the rest of us in the Free Lands. In Society, Shymers don’t hug. We show very little emotion toward each other. It’s just how things are. Nonetheless, I hate the fact that I hurt her once again when I promised myself I would stop.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt.

The words sound foreign coming from my lips. But I mean what I say. I am sorry for hurting her and running away. Her smile finally returns and her eyes grow bright, causing the warm feeling deep inside of me to stir.

From now on, I vow to do everything I can to make her happy.

 

* * *

 

At lunch I sit close to Olive—so close that our arms constantly touch and bring a warm flush to my skin. I catch Zeke and the guys giving me questioning glances, but I don’t care what they think. My need to be near Olive only continues to grow.

While eating my sandwich, I listen to Kai and Olive exchange questions, back and forth. I could sit for days on end and listen to any conversation involving Olive’s voice. The range of emotions in her tone is so varied that it’s almost amusing. Her spirit is so contagious that everyone around us ends up smiling and laughing along with her, which is something I thought I would never see with this group. It’s as if we all have a renewed sense of hope when Olive is near.

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