Inside, Pt. 1 Read online

  “Hello, Becca.” The store clerk smiled when she glanced up to see who had leaned on the counter next to me.

  “Hello, Hannah,” the girl named Becca greeted. “Is it too early to pick up books?”

  “No,” Hannah said. “I’m just about to get Lily’s books for her,” the store clerk nodded to me. Becca turned.

  “Hey, you’re Lily?” she asked, extending her hand, which I nervously took. “I’m Rebecca Davis,” she introduced herself. “But everyone calls me Becca.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said quietly, trying to stop the nervous tremor in my voice.

  “Are you new here?”

  “Is it that obvious?”

  “A little,” Becca chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll feel more comfortable when you fall into routine.”

  “I hope so,” I murmured, not convinced.

  “Here you are, ladies,” Hannah returned with two stacks of books bound together with our names taped to the top. Becca glanced at my last name and suddenly gasped.

  “Sandover?” she said. “You’re the daughter of the new Western Region Regulator!”

  “Yeah…”

  “Wow!” Becca smiled broadly. “My mom is Samantha Davis, Regulator of Midwest Region Two. Our parents are going to be working together.”

  “Really?” I blinked. “This is the first…”

  “What?”

  “I have never had someone reply that their parent was another regulator.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Becca giggled. “I felt the same way when I first moved here. You get used to it. Particularly with Jessica Daniels’ constant reminder that her father is the Chair of Finance for Leader Simon.” Becca rolled her eyes. “You have to get used to it just to keep your sanity.”

  Becca pulled her books off the counter.

  “Do you want to get some coffee?” she offered.

  The shy part of me wanted to make up an excuse or false appointment, but Becca’s warm smile made me feel that I could trust her.

  “That would be great.”

  We walked to a nearby café, getting drinks and sitting at a table near the windows.

  “How do you like Central so far?” Becca started.

  “It’s nice,” I nodded mechanically.

  Becca chuckled. “I’m not your parents,” she assured with a broad, white smile. “You don’t have to lie to me.” That pulled a laugh out of me.

  “No, really,” I assured. “It’s nice…”

  “But?” Becca pressed.

  “Well, I just…I didn’t really want to come here…”

  “Have you ever moved before?”

  “No.”

  “Oh, that makes more sense,” Becca nodded. “Your father must have been born in a political family.”

  “Yeah.”

  “My mom started out as a law clerk,” Becca smiled. “As she moved higher up in the ring, we started moving a lot, but the first move was the hardest.”

  “It wasn’t so much the move or changing houses,” I told her. “I just…I don’t want anything to do with Central. I felt as though…if I moved here, I would have to go into the government.”

  “Don’t want to work for the government like the family tradition?” Becca smirked. When I shook my head, she leaned forward, her smile wide. “Me, neither.”

  “Really?” I asked, confused. “I thought that everyone wanted to work for Central.”

  “Well, everyone can.” She leaned back in her chair and shook her head. “Not me. I want to work with animals.”

  “You don’t call that wanting to work with the government?” I grumbled, hoping that by lifting my cup to my mouth, she wouldn’t hear me. Her hearty laugh told me she had.

  “I like you,” she beamed. “You have a good sense of humor.”

  I smiled. “You mean because I called everyone in the government animals? You should be careful, you could be pegged a traitor for finding that funny.”

  “Come on,” Becca laughed. “That kind of stuff doesn’t happen anymore.”

  “So, how am I going to survive here?” I asked lightly.

  “Well, you are in luck, since everyone in Central goes to the same Third Tier Education institution.”

  “Everyone?” I blinked. “How big is this school?”

  “About one thousand students,” Becca nodded. “Are you in your third year?” When I nodded, she smiled. “Great! We’re in the same level. Are you a social person?”

  “No, not really,” I conceded.

  “Neither am I,” Becca chuckled. “However, in order to survive here you’re going to have to become one…or, at least, pretend to be. This school is a collective body, and if you don’t know what’s going on, you will get destroyed.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Because it’s your job to report things to your father,” Becca said strongly.

  “Report?”

  “The children all go to the same school and they talk about what their parents are doing. It keeps everyone in the loop. If there is any chance of something bad happening in politics, someone needs to tell their parent. That way it can be brought to attention and action can be taken. It’s all about being on the inside track.”

  “People just talk that freely about their parents’ work?”

  “Well, sort of,” Becca said. “Except for the Commish Kids.”

  “Is that what you call kids who have parents in the Commission of the People?” I laughed, choking on my coffee.

  “Oh, no,” Becca shook her head. “The whole family gets pulled into the Commission, not just the parents.” Becca chuckled. “Everyone will tell you if they are part of the Commission, but they won’t tell you what the Commission talks about. That’s completely secret.”

  “That’s not suspicious at all,” I grumbled, rolling my eyes.

  “Just a security measure,” Becca shrugged. “Since the Commission is the one who deals with dirty politicians.”

  “Good point…” I took a sip of my coffee and sighed. “So, by being ‘social,’ what do you mean?”

  “The entire school goes to a club at the end of each week. You are considered an outcast if you aren’t there, unless there is a legitimate excuse.”

  “A club? Really?”

  “It’s a dance club,” Becca explained. “It’s a lot of fun, and it’s where all the gossip happens. It’s called Club Archangel.”

  “And do all the parents know that their kids go to this club?” I asked skeptically. Becca nodded.

  “Oh, of course,” she assured. “Then again, there are some things that go on in the club that they don’t know about, but by the looks of you, you’re not into drugs or one-night stands in back alleys.”

  “No.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t think so,” Becca laughed. “Other than the club, there are the trips at the end of the term.”

  “I thought there was one going on right now…”

  “There is.”

  “Why aren’t you there?”

  “I got really sick as soon as school was over,” Becca shrugged. “Mom says it was the release of stress.”

  “Are the classes at this school that hard?” I asked.

  Becca sipped her coffee and made a face, shrugging.

  “They’re not necessarily hard, but they are work intensive,” she admitted. “Especially this coming term. We’re supposed to read J.A.N.E. and know it forward and backward.”

  I blinked.

  “J.A.N.E.?” I said slowly. “You mean An Angel Without Wings?’”

  Becca nodded, tapping her pile of books.

  “For years all we have heard about is the magnificent work of anonymous writer J.A.N.E. and the unforgettable accounts of the revolutionary Thomas Ankell as he overthrew the corrupt government of the Washington System.”

  “The first classic of neo-American literature,” I added, smiling at her cynical tone.

  “I don’t know,” she sighed, undoing the binding on her books and pulling out the novel we had heard so mu
ch about. We had never been allowed to read the book before because we were not old enough. Becca flipped through the pages and sighed. “Seems a little anti-climactic to me.”

  “You haven’t read it, yet.”

  “I know, but I thought it would be heavier, or…I don’t know, encrusted with gold,” she chuckled. “Particularly if we’re supposed to have the hardcopy.”

  While I wanted very little to do with the government started by Thomas Ankell, I had heard so much about him, and about the book, I had an undeniable urge to read it.

  “Anyway,” Becca sighed, setting the book back on the stack, “what kind of grades did you get at your last school?”

  “I have a three-point-eight,” I said with a shrug.

  “Oh, yeah, you won’t have any problems here, smarty-pants.”

  “No, I just didn’t have a social life at my old school,” I disagreed with a smile.

  “Well, don’t let your obligatory social life make your grades suffer,” Becca scolded playfully.

  We finished our coffee and began walking home when we ran out of things to talk about. Having just met, we were still slightly awkward around one another as new friends and conversation was harder to maintain.

  “Where do you live?” I asked.

  “Balkan Street, in the northwest,” Becca answered. “You?”

  “Capo Avenue.”

  Becca stopped and blinked at me.

  “Really? Your family is in that neighborhood?” she asked. When I nodded, she whistled. “Your father must be one hell of a politician…”

  “Does everyone know about this placing system but me?” I tried to laugh off my annoyance and worry.

  “There’s no system,” she corrected. “Just an understanding.”

  “Which house is closer, yours or mine?”

  “Mine,” Becca answered. “Do you want to come over?”

  I tried not to show my excitement at the invitation. She would be the first friend I would have made in Central.

  “Could I?”

  “Sure.” Becca nodded. “You can meet Davey, my dog.”

  Becca’s house was big, but warm and inviting. Her room was covered in pictures and posters, including some of her best friends—which she claimed were my new friends. She pointed to pictures of Jill, a blonde with dark blue eyes, and Taylor, a larger girl who did not have one picture where she sported a straight face. Becca explained to me that they were my new group of friends and they would help me transition into Central.

  I was thrilled when she invited me over to her house the following day to go over old yearbooks to learn about the school and the other classmates I would have. I accepted quickly.

  When I got home, my mom asked me what I had found around town, and I told her that I had made my first friend in Central.

  Chapter Four

  The following day, I went to Becca’s house to learn about those who would soon be my classmates. When I arrived at ten o’clock the door was answered by Becca’s father, a tall man with broad shoulders, a kind face, and even kinder eyes.

  “Hello,” I greeted, extending my hand, “my name is Lily Sandover. I’m a friend of Becca’s.”

  “Oh, yes, Lily Sandover, the daughter of Thomas Sandover,” the man nodded, stepping aside and letting me in. “I’m Bradly Davis, Becca’s father. Becca!” he called.

  A few moments later, Becca came downstairs to collect me, Davey in tow.

  “Lily, it was very nice to meet you, and please send my best to your father,” Mr. Davis nodded as Becca reached the bottom of the stairs. “Now, you two go off and do…whatever it is you girls do when your parents aren’t around.”

  Becca laughed and kissed her dad on the cheek.

  “It’s best that you don’t know, Dad,” she teased.

  “I agree,” he nodded quickly, kissing her forehead.

  I laughed when I saw a box of doughnuts on Becca’s bed and two mugs of coffee on the nightstand.

  “Wow, does it take you a lot to get going in the morning, or something?” I teased.

  “No,” Becca laughed. “You have a lot of studying to do.” She patted a stack of thick yearbooks. “I have provided you with the necessary materials: books, doughnuts, and coffee.” She handed me one cup and sat on the bed, patting for me to join her.

  “I really want to thank you for all of this,” I smiled sincerely. She snorted and waved the question away, shaking her head.

  “Please, it’s no big deal. I was the new kid once, too, and I had Jill. It’s my turn to help someone new.” Becca took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay! So, we have exactly four days until school starts, and you will need to know a lot by then.” She grabbed the first yearbook. “So, we begin,” she said ominously, though she was smiling.

  The first yearbook was from the first year of Third Tier Education, when Becca had come to Central.

  “You don’t really need to know the history of the building other than it was built shortly after the Second Revolution like…every other building in this city,” Becca rolled her eyes. “What you do need to know is where everyone hangs out. This never changes. Ever.”

  “Is this school really full of cliques?”

  “Yeah,” Becca nodded. “And unless you know what clique you belong to, you will be scouted by the one that finds you the most interesting.” Becca placed an arm around my shoulders. “Luckily for you, you have me.”

  Becca flipped through the pages, coming across the art students’ winning shots of the school building, which allowed me to see the basic layout.

  “We hang out in this area,” she said, pointing to a specific intersection of hallways. “Most of the studious kids hang out inside. The more social ones remain outside.”

  She flipped through the pages, looking for something. I caught glimpses of the other pictures in the flipping pages, ranging from school dances to sports accomplishments. There were pictures of students accepting awards and meeting important political figures, though it was difficult to discern exactly who the students were meeting.

  “Here we go!” Becca smiled, readjusting the book on her lap. The pictures of the freshmen class of the year were spread in alphabetical order for me to see. I leaned in closer, my eyes moving over the faces.

  “I’ll just point out the really important people you need to know and steer clear of,” Becca explained. She pointed to the picture of a girl named Jessica Daniels, explaining she was the Student Body Leader. She pointed out the child of the Advisor of Finance, and who she was dating.

  She pointed out three of the girls in school who were known to be the worst in the school.

  “Why?”

  “Because they’re bitches,” Becca laughed. “No, it’s not just that. They’re Commish Kids, and they’re dating three of the smartest and best-looking boys in the school—all brothers. Because of that, these girls think that they’re also beautiful and smart.”

  “They’re pretty,” I conceded.

  “Yeah, they’re alright,” Becca admitted. “But their personalities are so bad that they are actually really ugly.” She scanned the faces in front of her, contemplating who to talk about next. “This is Todd Douglas, he’s part of our group and if you ever need help on anything relating to math or science, talk to him. The rest of us are all idiots in math and science. He’s super smart.”

  “He’s cute,” I nodded. I always had a thing for boys with blonde hair and blue eyes.

  “Yeah, he’s okay.”

  “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  “No,” Becca laughed, shaking her head. “I dated Luke Telton, and Parker Simpson,” she pointed to the two boys’ pictures and chuckled. “But that was back in sophomore year. I’ve been living the single life ever since.”

  “At least you’ve had two boyfriends…” I grumbled.

  “What?” Becca gasped, her eyes wide. “A hot little number like you hasn’t had a boyfriend, yet?”

  “Who are you looking at?” I teased.

  “Are you kidding me? Y
ou are hot!” Becca smiled, looking me over. “Well, if no one was willing to date you where you came from, that’s their loss.” She grinned. “Here in Central, you’ll be beating them away with a stick.”

  “I’m so sure…” I rolled my eyes.

  She pointed others out to me in the yearbook, telling me the kids to stay away from and everyone’s connection to Central’s workforce. There were many kids who had parents in very close connection to Leader Simon, which made me feel like I was going to school with celebrities.

  Becca also pointed out the Commish Kids. She told me it was very important to know who they were before I went to school, because the kids that were part of the Commission were very exclusive and secretive, and to approach one of them would be considered inappropriate.

  After she taught me about the students, Becca turned to the faculty page. She pointed out good teachers and those who were particularly difficult to get along with. I pulled the schedule I had received that morning out of my bag and found the teachers I would have. I was relieved to discover that Becca had three classes with me.

  “You are going to be so sick of me,” I chuckled. “I’m going to be sticking to you like crazy.”

  “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that,” Becca assured. “And I doubt I’ll get sick of you.”

  We both had the teacher Becca said was the best in the school. His name was Darrel McDermott. He taught our Historic Literature class, which was the class in which we would read An Angel Without Wings. Becca assured me that he was lenient and he made class fun, which made me feel a little better after she had told me that the math teacher we had together was a pain in the ass.

  She pulled out the second yearbook in order to show me some of the new students that I needed to know. After two hours, we had both drank two cups of coffee and eaten half of the doughnuts in the box. High on sugar and caffeine, Becca started telling me embarrassing school stories and silly events that happened with some of my other classmates. It was nice to be able to laugh that much. I was worried that I would be swallowed up by my loneliness from leaving all my friends, but Becca made me forget my sadness.

  It was great to be with her. She seemed carefree and happy, like nothing could faze her, and it helped me anchor myself in what would, otherwise, be an overwhelming reality of my situation.