What the hell was happening to her?

Wind rattled the window, asking to come inside. Yaya thrust it open, and November’s chill breathed across her skin and lavender suit. Putting it on tonight now seemed silly. Who was she trying to impress?

She sighed hard and then stuck her head out the window. Most mornings before she jumped in the shower, she leaned her head out and screamed at the

top of her lungs. Cheaper than counseling, which ABP didn’t cover. One rare occasion when Mom had texted more than three words, she mentioned seeing a therapist, said it did her wonders, but Yaya liked the screaming method better.

From what she could tell, no one ever tried to find out who was making all that noise and then help her.

Screaming out the window at night was no different. No one cared. No one in this city even had the decent manners to scream back.

~

Sudden hammering struck her chest—her phone vibrating. She sat up and answered quick. “Hello?”

“Yolanda Betancourt, this is an important reminder,” a robotic voice said.

ABP again. “Your next mandatory checkup—”

“Tomorrow, I know!” She shook the phone. They’d surprised her, and for nothing.

“—today, November 12th, at 11:15—”

She yanked the phone from her head and read the screen. Today? But last night was Saturday. Had she slept all through Sunday, or had she stayed too plastered through her day off to remember? A new fog had taken over, much stronger than Friday night’s half-drunken haze.

ABP expected her at the Sibs station today, despite having missed Sunday.

Yesterday was laundry day, too. She still wore her shoes and lavender suit, and she didn’t feel like changing before heading to the dirty Sibs station. She didn’t feel like going at all. If ABP had caused her vaginal situation, maybe they could fix it, but how could she trust them?

Her phone chirped: “AlphaBeta Pharmaceutical, making your world a better place!”

“Fuck. You.” She slapped the phone down on her nightstand. Her hand lingered over the top drawer, where her purple battery-powered Friday Night Alternatives offered temporary relief, but she wasn’t sure if her extra teeth might slide out and damage it. Not worth the risk.

The best gift she could give herself was to stay in bed. She hadn’t missed a Sibs checkup since she was twelve. Nearly two decades of perfect monthly attendance had to afford a little leeway. Her eyelids sank. Maybe her body planned to grow more teeth and needed to shut down every other process to make it happen. She already had the day scheduled off from Jumpies for her Sibs checkup. Why bother with either? Why not sleep?

The sky grayed; she felt it at brief moments of wakefulness, but she didn’t fully open her eyes until early evening dimmed the windows, when her door snapped open on squealy hinges.

There were people in her apartment.

She sat up fast and faced a rubbery gas mask. A man’s tired eyes watched behind thick glass portholes. He wore a yellow suit with black rubber gloves and matching boots, and he seemed to fill the world. A scream caught in Yaya’s throat as scrambled off the bed and made to run, but the man caught her arm and thrust her into the loveseat in one smooth twist. She couldn’t make herself stand.