“No, you can’t! Like it or not, we’ve got to stick together if we’re going to defeat the Rebels. Which means you, Arika Cobane, have got to realize that you’re not too good to associate with the rest of us.”

“It’s not like that! I’m not too good. I’m just… busy.”

Covington crossed her arms. “If you’re not in the Recreation Room in twenty minutes, you’ll be meeting with Jones in thirty, once I tell her you snuck off with Hosea.”

“But that’s blackmail!”

“Yes, it is.” She stood. “And, Arika, if you’re not there, on time, having fun, I fully intend to follow through. Keeper or not.” She turned on her heel and left.

The Party

THE PARTY

For fifteen minutes I sat alone in the meeting room, reliving the past hour. I felt Jetson’s disappointment. I heard Covington call me selfish. I saw East Keep’s face, a mask of contempt, insisting I’d never cared. All of it bothered me because most of it was true.

I’d grown accustomed to the great divide that separated me from my classmates. Reconciliation was impossible, I’d assumed. And for all these years, I’d figured they agreed. Sure, they invited me to parties, but that was formality. They did not truly want me there, any more than I had wanted to be there—which was not at all.

Liar.

I grimaced, searching myself for the truth. If I didn’t care, why had Covington’s proposal of alliance struck such a nerve? I glanced at the clock. Why was I waiting on pins and needles for twenty minutes to pass? Why was I hoping she would patch things over with East Keep? If I didn’t care, why was I trembling at the possibility of a truce?

At nine forty-five, I jumped to my feet and hurried out of the meeting room. I walked through the Main Hall on shaky legs. Perhaps this sentimentality was residue from the village. For a few hours there, I’d been a daughter, a sister, an auntie—part of a family. Perhaps being back at the Schoolhouse felt lonely in comparison. Was Covington right? Could we reunite once we left the Schoolhouse? Could we face the Rebels together and mend the Kongo? I could hardly believe it. But then again, anything seemed possible at Hasting. And, as Senator, I would have security. I could make friends and afford to remain loyal to them. I wouldn’t be subject to Jones.