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Monday, July 2, 2018

The Modules - Read & Review Chapter - Book 2 in the Modules Series


The Modules by Almondie Shampine
book 2 in The Modules Series



After that incident, I began taking three outings a week, one hour a piece, 7 ½ minutes to get there, 7 ½ minutes to get back, and a 45-minute lesson in self-defense and butt-whooping. For so long I’d been so focused on the adults being the enemy that I hadn’t realized that people my age could be even worse. No one knew what happened to those girls and guys, and I, personally, didn’t care. We were advised that cameras were now installed in all restrooms in the public area of the restroom.
On top of all my other names, I became known as the girl who took out nine people with my fists in the girl’s bathroom. Sometimes it was nine and other times it was 15. My hopes of being able to make a single friend during my time in the Modules were completely crushed after that. The lunch room would practically clear out when I arrived, so I began taking my food to go. I worked on my dissertation day and night, which gave me free clearance into the lab. Since I was experimenting on myself, it was literally day and night, as even as I slept, I kept a tape recorder running to monitor myself, both on and off the mind enhancers.
I was fast accumulating all this knowledge into my conscious that had previously been locked into my sub-conscious and only accessed through the mind enhancement drugs. It excited me. It sickened me. It amazed me. It scared me.
Everything they had implanted in my sub-conscious brain when I was 13, 14 years old when I’d had no awareness.
I ran out of my karate class one day when I was facing an opponent to perform the moves we’d been instructed, and I began doing all these moves I’d no recollection of ever having learned.
But how well-rounded was I? I went to a restaurant, one day, and knew every single ingredient and exactly how they’d prepared it. The piano in the auditorium drew me toward it, and I played Tchaikovsky like I’d been doing it my entire life. I tested my computer skills and hacked into the government system and learned the H school stood for Health and Home, as well as the address the Commander had already provided me.
It was during one of my Clinicals when our supervising Doctor went into cardiac arrest and I laid him out and performed open heart surgery, on the spot, and everyone looked at me like I truly was some kind of freak, when I locked myself in my room for three days with meds I’d stolen to try to shut my brain down. I wound up having a bad reaction and getting my stomach pumped. Something you never want to experience.
They believed it a suicide attempt and wanted to get me into an inpatient rehabilitation center, the place my Dad had gone and never come back from the same, and this caused me to react badly.
“I swear, I was only trying to shut my brain down. It’s the mind enhancers,” I told my Psych. “They give me insomnia. If you don’t believe me, use your truth serum.”
Well that did it. No one was supposed to know about that, and I realized my mistake after I said it, due to being in a pure-reactive state.
The President of the school was brought in and the Psych spoke to him as though I wasn’t sitting right there with ears.
“We believe she may be experiencing a psychotic episode. She keeps rambling on and on about how she couldn’t get her brain to shutup, so she kept taking sedatives to try to make her brain stop, how she performed open heart surgery and can play Tchaikovsky and knows black belt karate, and now she is showing paranoid tendencies in accusing us of using truth serum.”
I could not believe this was the little mouse of a man Psychologist that I had trusted. “I wasn’t accusing you of using truth serum. I told you to use it so you can know I’m telling the truth. That’s what they use in movies.” I was trying to sound calm and reasoning, but it was difficult because they had me restrained to the bed, and being restrained to the bed reminded me too much of being restrained to the bathroom floor, and restrained during my total body paralysis my first day here, and I was nearly throwing up my panic, because of how much there was.
The President gave a nod of his head, and the MD took out a needle. I let out one heck of a blood-curdling scream, and then just as the President was leaving, I yelled, “I found out the formula. The formula for the mind enhancers so that people can remember what they learned even when they’re not on it. I figured it out and I’ve been testing it on myself. It was for my dissertation.”
The MD stopped coming toward me. The Psych stopped rubbing his hands. The President of the School stopped walking out the door, then slowly turned.
“Does it work?” he asked.
“Yes, but it has an adverse effect with the type of sedatives I took.”
“What did you take?”
“Some over the counter drug I got.” I sure as heck wasn’t going to admit I’d taken it from the lab.
“You should have had staff monitoring you. Real trained professionals.”
“And let them get their hands on my formula? Peshaw!”
“Where is it?” he said, and his eyes looked greedy.
“Let me loose and I’ll get it.”
He provided the signal.
“Sir, I really think that she needs to be evaluated in an inpatient facility for a few days,” my Psych-I-will-never-like-again said. He threw me to the dogs the moment I mentioned the serum. I’d had to hear his anxious twittering about losing his job like a mouse caught in a trap.
“You idiot, we are an inpatient facility. She lives here and we’re a fully-trained and operating medical facility.”
The voice was also telling me the President’s motive to take the credit for himself in developing the formula that they’d spent years trying to find.
I took him to the mail room.
“What’s it doing in here?” he said tensely.
“I was sending it to the Denver office for them to fully test it, before I finished my dissertation.
“Why? We could have tested it here?” he said, hardly able to contain his anger.
“Was I mistaken? I thought Denver, being the main headquarters, was where it had to get approval first prior to testing?”
He addressed the mail clerk. “We’re looking for a –.”
“Manila envelope.”
“About –.”
“This thick,” I held my hands an inch apart
“That’s addressed to the headquarters in Denver.”
“Colorado?” the mail clerk said.
The President growled, “Move out of the way, I’ll find it myself.” He wasn’t a happy man, and what he said and shown on the outside was only two percent of everything he had to say on the inside, believe me. He had a potty mind.
“Is there anything more you need from me, sir?” I called to him.
He grumbled and cursed, so I helped myself out, and went immediately to the phone.
“This is Garrett.”
“Hello, Garrett. It’s Cat.” Finally I’d gotten my chance to say that.
“Cat? How did you get my personal cell – never mind. I don’t even know why I bother asking. You in trouble?”
“Now what makes you think I’d be in trouble? Maybe I just called to say hi.”
“Because I know you,” but his voice was good-natured.
“I’ve got something here for you that the President of the School is trying very, very hard to get his hands on.”
“What is it?”
“Anyone ever tell you that you don’t provide confidential information over the phone? When can you be here?”
“Do I have a time limit?”
“I have a feeling that if you wait too long, the President will have me in an interrogation room to try to get this information.”
“I’ll be there as fast as I can. This better be good, because I’m going to have to call off a very important meeting.”
“I’m not good enough?” I said with a pout.
“You’re much more than that. You’re my greatest weakness.”
“I’m not leaving the facility, so don’t let them tell you I’m on an outing. I’ve never seen the President this way before.”
“Are you in danger, Cat?”
“I’m not sure,” I said seriously.
“You still got the ring I gave you?”
“Yea, why, you want me to punch them with it?”
He chuckled, “No, there’s a little button on the underside of the ring. If anything happens or you find yourself in danger, press that button. Only press it if there’s a problem.” Then he hung up the phone before I could say anything.
I went to my room and found the ring in the back of my underwear drawer. I looked on the underside and, sure enough, there was a button.
I sat on the bed cross-legged for a couple hours, reminding myself time and time again that he told me not to press it unless something happened.
I pressed it. Oops.
The purple gem of the ring opened up and I saw the reflection of my face in a camera lens.
I nearly peed myself when I heard, “Something happening?” in his voice, coming through the ring.
“It was an accident,” was all I could think to say. I pressed the button as quickly as I could while he was in the midst of cursing at me, and it became just a simple purple gem again.
A knock came at the door. Assuming it was the Commanding Officer, I opened it wide, to find, instead, the President (Principal) of the school, and a couple other people standing in the background acting like they were there for a purpose other than being the President’s bodyguard or worse.
“Sir, so what’d you think?” I asked.
“About what?”
“The dissertation?”
“It wasn’t there. Denver hasn’t received it yet, so they’ll be shipping it back as soon as they receive it, but what I need to know is if you have another copy?”
“No, I don’t,” I said, acting disappointed.
“How can you not have another copy? Is it on your notebook?”
“No, I didn’t type it yet. It’s all handwritten. As I told you previously, I wasn’t going to finalize it until after it had been tested on a control group other than myself.”
This didn’t seem to make him too happy. “Well, if you’ve been using it on yourself, you’ve had plenty opportunity to mix it yourself, so just write down the formula and we’ll go from there.”
“It’s a very complex formula. I do not have it memorized.”
He exploded, “So you’re saying you sent your one and only copy of the formula to Denver and didn’t have brains enough to hold onto a copy, in case it never got there?”
I remained silent and dropped my head, like I was humbled, and pressed the button on my ring, until he demanded I answer him.
“The dissertation isn’t due until August 1st, so as far as I’m aware, I’m not required to turn in anything until that date. It’s not finalized. I need the proper permissions first. Without the proper testing, it’s nothing more than a theory. If there’s an issue with that, take it up with the handbook.”
“Speaking of the handbook, I’m pretty sure we have a strict policy enforcing that, without a prescription, students are not to use any type of medication from the lab. Am I to assume correctly that you’ve been mixing this in the lab? Jerry,” he called out to one of the guys in the hall pretending to study the paint. “What’s the repercussion for that per the handbook?”
“Transfer and/or termination.”
“You better pick your brain apart for that formula and give it to me by 1300 hours, and I will possibly consider your transgressions forgiven,” he said.
“Well I certainly never imagined God would look like you. That’s disappointing. How about this one? You will not get that formula until I am graduated and certified, and if you even consider transferring or terminating me, you will never see that formula.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“No more than you are me.”
“You listen to me, little girl. I have ways of getting exactly what I want, and I want that formula, whether you’re prepared to give it to me or not.”
“There is no formula. I told you that in order to protect myself from being shot up with another needle and transferred to a suicide ward.”
He spit and sputtered, and his face bulged like a zit about to explode. “I’ve got a much better place for you than an institution, and you’ll stay there as long as it takes to get the information I want.”
He beckoned for the three Guards to grab me, while answering his ringing cellphone. “Sir . . . yes sir . . . an hour? . . . No, no inconvenience at all . . . Who? . . . Absolutely, I’ll arrange her schedule for a meeting if I can track her down. . . . Sorry, sir, I meant when, when I track her down . . . May I ask . . .”
He stared at his phone like he wanted to smash it, then slowly eased it to his pocket.
“We’ll have to pick this up at a later date. The Commanding Officer of High Intelligence will be here in an hour and he wants a meeting with you,” he said as though you was referring to a bunch of maggots.
“That’s excellent news. He must have gotten the formula and now wants to come here and personally congratulate me. I’d say it’s been nice knowing you, but my parents taught me never to lie. Please close and lock the door behind you. I wouldn’t want anyone going through my stuff when I’m gone, but then again, I suppose that’s what the cameras are there for,” I said happily.
He suddenly straightened and began looking around the room.
I hung out in HR until I got the call to report to 1302. I practically skipped there, carrying the dissertation I’d hidden in the lab.
The secretary had my coffee all ready for me.
“Yay, you got large cups.”
“Well, the coffee guzzlers of today aren’t like the coffee sippers of yesterday.”
“That’s for sure,” I said, taking a couple swallows of the freshly brewed coffee. She just shook her head, smiling at me. “Is he ready for me?”
“Go right in.”
The door hardly closed and I wasn’t even seated when I said, “So did you fire him?” with a huge smile.
“Catina Salsbury. Need I remind you of the suit?”
“Sorry, did you fire him, Sir?”
He sat back and chuckled, “I don’t think it is a good thing that you are knowing my soft side too often, as you come to expect it, thereby eliminating your fear of me.”
“I was never afraid of you before, sir.”
“Look at you, your eyes are absolutely swirling with mischief. It turns your eyes a darker shade of blue.”
“You heard and saw what happened, right?”
“I did, but it really wasn’t necessary to provoke him. Any other person would have been quaking in their shoes when confronted with such a situation, and shut their mouth.”
“Then let’s be happy I’m not any other person. I don’t quake.”
“Careful, Catina, there’s a fine line between confidence and arrogance and you’re bordering on arrogance. Need I remind you of your moments of panic and hysteria that make you human, just like everyone else, and not immune to fear?”
“I’m pretty sure those are not the times I’m being considered human, and more often the times that somebody is trying to tell me I’m having a psychotic episode. I don’t even fall for it anymore, the line’s been used so often. I know I’m right when someone starts referring to my having psychosis because it’s their own paranoia that they’ll be losing their job.”
“That’s an interesting theory. Does that mean when you feel like you’re being watched and someone starts bringing up schizophrenic symptoms, this makes you believe even moreso that you’re being watched?”
“Yes, because the normal response would be for people to reassure me I’m not being watched. In the absence of their reassurance is their confirmation.”
“That’s a bit black and white thinking. What you’re saying is if no one complimented you, then they’re confirming that they don’t have anything to compliment you on, or if no one says they love you, then they’re confirming that they hate you.”
“No, I’m speaking accusations only. So, for example, if I accused you of hating me, and you didn’t deny hating me or you didn’t reassure me that you didn’t hate me, rather told me something entirely off topic, then you’d be confirming my accusation, because it is natural for someone to deny false accusations.”
“It’s natural for people to want to deny accusations, in general, whether true or false. It’s a matter of pride that determines whether they will deny it or not. Using your same example, you accuse me of hating you, you’ve rifled my pride, so I’d be more likely to tell you you’re being ridiculous or acting crazy than to lower my pride and give you the compliment or reassurance you’re seeking.”
“So you brought us completely off topic from my original question to avoid having to answer it,” I said.
His eyes glinted. “That’s because I shouldn’t have to tell you that’s confidential information.”
“So is what I have here sticking out of my arm pit?”
“I’m not playing your little game, Catina.”
“Call me Cat.”
“I call you Cat, you want me to call you Catina. I call you Catina, you want me to call you Cat. You’re exhausting.”
“Then why did you give me a ring that provides me direct contact to you? I see only one ring on your hands, so unless you’ve given out a bunch of cellular rings, ha ha, get it, cellular rings? That must mean I’m not all that exhausting.”
“You’re letting this get to your head, and that concerns me. You’re usually a very level-headed person, if not, too serious, at times.”
That changed me. Back to my former self that came after the former self.
“I’ll maintain level-headed as soon as people stop trying to stick needles in me, send me to psychiatric institutions, harass me for a formula that belongs to me, and when that harassment doesn’t work, threaten that I will be terminated or transferred if I do not provide it, then implicate some kind of interrogation techniques to force me to provide it.”
“Would you have preferred me to cower and shake and give in and give him what he wanted out of fear of the consequences? And as far as your stupid ring and your inappropriate involvement in my life, I don’t need either one. I can protect and take care of myself and I don’t need you or anyone else to do so. I make my own way.” I threw the ring at him. “If you’re not going to take care of him, then I will. Good day, sir.”
“He’s being forced to resign. I didn’t mean to upset you. Cat can come back out and play. I was being insensitive and wasn’t thinking how upsetting all of this has been to you. Why don’t we get out of here for a bit, relax, and you can show me what you’ve been meaning to show me?”
“For all the trouble it has caused, I think I will just burn it, and forget I ever wanted to help the system that is caving in just on the basis that I might have something. There’s nothing in this world that isn’t corrupt, and there’s no telling who can or cannot be trusted. I’d rather play it safe and trust no one. And don’t you dare start talking about my symptoms, because I’ve seen and heard enough the past 24 hours to prove it. I’m getting out of here and I’m going where the tests tell me to go, and I will make it so that I don’t work beneath anyone. You stay away from me.”
“Cat, I jumped when you said jump, boarded an emergency flight that took four hours, took care of a situation, all over confidential information that you wanted to provide me. I’d like to assume you felt you could trust me with it. You come in here, full of mischief, over a serious matter, when I am in uniform and it is my responsibility to ensure that mischief is only directed in the right and appropriate places. I can’t believe I’m explaining myself to you. Sit down!” he yelled.
“No.” I opened the door. “And don’t call me that. My name is Catina.”
“Catina Salsbury, by order of your Commanding Officer and your superior, you get back in here this instant.”
I smiled at the receptionist who was standing with paled features. “He’d make a wonderful father, don’t you think? Coffee was great. Much appreciated.”



Next Up: Intelligent Design Free Read & Relax Chapter - Book 3 in the Modules Series

Sunday, July 1, 2018

THE REFORM - Free Read & Review Chapter - Book 1 in the Modules Series


The Reform by Almondie Shampine
book 1 in The Modules Series




I arrived at the Fountain, the code name for the pond behind our house, and waited, knowing Charlie would come. I touched the C-shaped scar at my hairline in recalled memories of the first time I’d met him. It had been an unusually warm day for the third week of June. Kadrin and I had just graduated from second grade from a public school system that believed recess and a kid-being-a-kid was a healthy part of growing up. It was our last summer before the Reform. We were eight.
Kay had been doing her nails and wading her toes in the water while I pretended to be a fish, her toes the bait. Two boys had come across the Fountain and we’d instantly retaliated with war, throwing mud bombs at them to keep them away. They’d retaliated with gravel bullets, and Charlie had nailed me in the head with a rock, resulting in me getting stitches and my now C-shaped scar.
It had been my last and my best last summer ever. We’d battled it out over the Fountain the entire summer, and Charlie and I had gradually become friends as his and my parents became friends. We’d become best friends when we were told we couldn’t be friends anymore. See, my father once having been a conspiracy theorist, and his Dad being retired military, throughout our pretend war over the Fountain, they’d been the Military Scouts, which Kay and I referred to as the Military Brats, and we’d been the Conspiracy Renegades, trying to protect what was ours. All fun and games. But the changes in the system had resulted in disagreements between our parents of whose best interests the government had in mind.
Charlie and I had been meeting each other secretly since that summer four years ago.
After waiting ten minutes, I became impatient and blew the duck call like a rabid duck. I was just about to take a big risk at getting in trouble, and just run to his house where I wasn’t allowed, when I heard the duck call answering back.
Then, he was there. He stopped two feet in front of me. Both of us were sweating and out of breath from running. It was awkward standing there, looking at each other. I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to run into his arms and cry that I might not ever see him again, but I didn’t know that for sure. Plus, I didn’t know if he wanted me to run into his arms, if we were supposed to do that type of stuff, since I’d become a woman three months ago, which is what mom called it.
Before I became a woman, or began puberty, which is what we call it, there hadn’t been any awkwardness between Charles and me. I’d show him my affection by punching him in the shoulder, tripping him, or hitting him behind the knee with a stick. He’d show me his care for me by tousling my hair, giving me indian burns and purple nurples. The purple nurples stopped abruptly one day, once I’d begun developing, because it’d hurt so bad that I felt no remorse in kicking him in between the legs. He’d crumpled to the ground. It’s the only time I’ve ever seen him cry.
Except for now. He was crying now. I felt the heated trickling wetness on my own cheeks and didn’t know if I had started crying first or was crying because he was crying. He stepped toward me and reached out his hand. I stepped toward him. He put his hand down. I wiped my face. He lifted the bottom of his shirt and blew his nose into it, reminding me that I was becoming a woman faster than he was becoming a man, and he was older than me.
“God, you’re disgusting.”
“What?” he said. “You didn’t exactly offer me a tissue.”
“Your shirt?  Really?”
“A lot better than wiping my snot on my arm like you did.”
I looked at my arm and saw the streaks of tears and what could have been snot. My face turned beat-red in humiliation. A woman would not have done that, but I did it, automatically, without thinking. Perhaps I wasn’t a woman yet, after all, like mom said. Excellent news!
All it took was me looking at him with a mischievous grin before he began running, knowing what I had in mind. I began chasing him, my arm outstretched, totally prepared to wipe my snot/tear arm all over his arm. I caught up with him easily, my legs longer than his and capable of running faster, and launched my body forward to tackle him to the ground. He surprised me by side-stepping last moment and I landed with a Hmmmph on the ground. He laughed, pointing his finger at me. I grabbed dirt in my hand and tossed it at him, then tried scrambling to my feet. He grabbed my foot and I was down again. This time on my back.
He fell on me, his knees on either side of my stomach, and began doing the king kong hitting-of-his-chest that I hated so much. I smeared my arm on his pants and yipped in joy. Then he looked down at his shirt, where he’d blown his nose, and smiled at me, at the same time he went to restrain my hands.
“No, no, don’t!” I screamed. “This is my favorite . . . Stop!” It’s hard sounding serious when you can’t stop laughing. I got my hug after all, as he crushed his belly and chest against mine, and wiped his snot-shirt on mine.
I screamed in such disgust and whipped my shirt off and stuffed it in his face. Then I went running toward the Fountain. He was still trying to take his shirt off, running at a full run, when I surfaced. Then screamed and went back under when he did his cannon ball routine and smacked into the water. I jumped on his back and pushed on his head, trying to get it to go under.
He flipped me over his shoulder and my back stung when it hit the water. When did he get so strong? I continued into a reverse somersault, grabbed mud from the bottom of the Fountain, then surfaced and squashed it on his chest. He grabbed me into a bear hug and crushed me into his chest, getting mud all over me. I was squirming and squealing for escape when I noticed his silence. He kept his arms around me. I stopped squirming and looked at him to see what was up. I followed his eyes and looked down at my chest, my white sports bra now looking like it got pooped on.
“I’m sure it’ll wash out,” I said, not quite understanding his silence. He then looked at me in the eyes, like he was studying me. My forehead, my nose, my cheeks, my mouth, back to my eyes.
“What’s wrong? Do I have a booger on my face?” I said, wiping my face with my arm again.
“You’re not a little girl anymore, Cat,” he said, his voice sounding strange, deeper even. He pushed my hair behind my ear and touched my c-shaped scar. Then he looked at my chest again, and just as the horrifying reminder was surfacing in my brain, he pointed out, “You’re getting boobs.”
I punched him, not remembering ever being so mad at him. Granted, Kay and I would pick on each other about it without getting embarrassed, and Charles had been my best friend for 4 ½ years, we knew everything there was to know about each other, and we were bluntly honest and talked about everything under the sun, but this was just one of those things that a boy does not talk to a girl about, best friends or not.
He fell in the water and I went to shore, not caring if he drowned. I grabbed my shirt and hurriedly put it back on, but of course it would get stuck on my head and I wouldn’t be able to find the arm holes. He was walking to shore, holding his bleeding nose, when I finally got it over my head and pulled down. 


“Why’d you do that, Cat?” he groaned, his voice nasally from holding his nose.


“Don’t call me that. You can no longer call me Cat. My name is Catina and that is what you will call me. And you are not to get within six feet of me, so stay over there.” 


He got closer and I scrambled backward like he was going to tackle me or hit me back or something. Instead, he grabbed his shirt and put it up against his nose. 


“Okay, Catina, why did you hit me? That really hurt.” 


“Because you were being a pervert and I’m going to hit you every time you start being a pervert.” 


“How was I being a pervert? I simply pointed out the obvious.”


“Exactly, the obvious. I don’t need some stupid boy telling me what I already know.”


“Wo, stupid boy? Apparently you haven’t noticed, but I’m almost as smart as you, one, and two, I’m no boy.”


“Yes you are. You want to talk about boobs? You got so much baby fat still on you that you’ve had boobs since you were born. You’re 13 years old and you haven’t even started puberty yet. How messed up is that?”


“Stop it, Cat. You’re only being mean to me because I embarrassed you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. If you hadn’t hauled off and hit me, I was going to tell you you’re beautiful.” 


“Embarrassed? Me? I don’t get embarrassed. I get revenge, which is exactly what I – What did you say?” 


“You’re not the only one going through changes. I am too. It started a few months ago. One day I was just this kid that did whatever I did, no matter how stupid it was, and the more stupid it was the funnier it was anyway. All of a sudden, I’m thinking about things I didn’t used to think about. I started not wanting to get dressed in front of the guys in gym class, but then I also started looking at the guys in gym class.”


“Oh my God, Charlie, you’re gay,” I said. 


“Not like that, you idiot. What I mean is, I started noticing some of the changes in them, too, and I knew they’d be looking at me, trying to figure it out. The locker room went from smelling like regular boys to smelling like dirty sweaty socks that haven’t been washed in six months. Then I realized something.”


Charlie lifted his arm and showed me his armpit. 


I immediately covered my nose. “Put that away, Charlie. It’s you. You smell like dirty socks.”


“No, look.”


“Do I really have to?” I was almost whining. He really did stink.


“Yes, you have to look. It’s only fair, because I looked at your boobs.”


I clenched my hand into a fist.


“Just sayin’, Catina.”


So I looked, and what I found, besides the most horrible smell I’d almost ever encountered, was hair under his arm, like my dad, except a lot less of it. 


Holy heck, this is what you get for being best friends with a boy. Everything that you’d rather not know. I looked at it like it was a spider at any moment ready to jump on me, but looking at his face, he was proud. 


“Do you know what this means, Cat?”


“That you were less disgusting before?” I said, but I also knew he wasn’t the only one who had begun to stink and now had to carry around deodorant like I carried bug spray, and was sprouting hair in places not meant, but heck if I was going to admit that to him.
He sidled up closer to me. I moved away, just for him to follow. 


“You can put your arm down now,” I said.


“Oh yeah,” he chuckled. Then he grabbed both of my hands in his. “We’re going to have a serious moment, Cat.”


“I hate having serious moments, Charlie.”


“I know you do, but we have to. It’s almost noon. Those guys are coming back to take us away and we have no idea where they’re taking us.”


That’s one of the other things I liked about Charlie. His logic always made sense. He didn’t use the same logic of other people, like, ‘Because I said so.’ And he didn’t sugar-coat anything. He just said it, plain and simple, even brutal at times, like he was missing some kind of filter. Like what had just happened a few moments ago. Where I wanted to not think about what was about to happen, I’d come here to talk about just that. Charlie was the person I wanted to face my reality with, not just play out fantasies like war. 


“One of the Recruiters is a female, you know.” 


“You’re kidding.” We laughed. 


“Everything’s changing, Cat.”


“You don’t have to remind me.” I watched a butterfly move from one flower to the next. 


“Will you look at me, please? I can’t do this if you’re not looking at me. We can’t be friends anymore, Cat.” 


It was like the time he hit me in the stomach with the baseball bat, except instead of a baseball bat, it was a cannon ball. 


“Fine, if that’s the way you want things to be, then that’s how it’ll be. I’ll probably never see you again anyway, and I really just don’t care.” My stupid voice cracked at the end, giving evidence to me getting emotional and that he’d hurt me. This angered me and I pushed him away from me.


“Stop it. Let me finish. Cat!”


“No!” I hollered and took off through the woods, nearly blinded by the tears. This was the absolute worst day of my life. Strangers showed up at our house telling us they’re taking us away from our home, and now my best friend was betraying me, just when I’d really started to like him, in a different way than I’d liked him before, when I was still trying to figure it all out.


“Cat, Wait!”


“Goodbye, Charles,” I said, knowing he’d never be able to catch me, knowing I wouldn’t see him again, even if he changed his mind, but he did catch up to me, somehow suddenly being able to run faster than me when I’ve always run faster than him since I’ve known him. I was just beginning to scramble up the Tree (my fort), when he grabbed my arm and whipped me around. I threw my arm back to hit him. He crushed me against the tree. I began pummeling his back. 


He kissed me. Not the little boy kiss he’d given me when we were ten, playing truth or dare with Kadrin and Willie, but a real kiss, like the movies. At first, I squealed and tried getting leverage to hit him harder or push him off me, because I didn’t understand and I didn’t like it. But then my face got really hot and his lips felt cool against mine. It was the whole body feeling of laying out in 98 degree heat, then jumping into cold water. Shocking, at first. Then relieving. My body relaxed and I let him kiss me, all thoughts, questions, and everything else always running around in my brain non-stop, taking a rest. 


“Catina Salsbury, you are the most stubborn girl I know.”


Kiss me, then insult me. I pulled away, which wasn’t far, being as how I was crushed against a tree. 


“Let go of me. Leave me be,” I said, but my voice didn’t sound strong. It sounded beaten.


“The reason I said we couldn’t be friends anymore is because you are becoming a woman and I am becoming a man.”


I opened my mouth to say something, so he clamped his hand over my mouth. He yelled over my muffled squeals, “So I was thinking we should be boyfriend and girlfriend instead.”


I stopped squealing at boyfriend, so girlfriend echoed throughout the woods. For once, I couldn’t say anything.


“Will you be my girlfriend, Catina?” 


He opened his hand, and in his palm was a ring, made of twine, that he’d made himself.
“I have one too,” he said, and showed me his right hand, the twine wrapped around his middle finger. 


I wanted to be excited and happy and thinking this was the best day of my life. Instead, I was thinking about 1200 hours, the guy with bulging eyes, the woman who peed standing up, Mom crying on the floor, Dad probably drooling in the kitchen over uneaten breakfast from this morning, Kadrin smiling like she was better than me and knew more than me about what was about to happen. 


Being taken away from Mom and Dad, from home, from being Charles’ next door neighbor, from the Fountain, the Tree, the Hill, the Stone, the Graveyard, and from Charlie. Crying, I snatched the ring from his hand, kissed him hard on the lips, and took off toward what was no longer going to be my home and everything I’d ever known. About 100 feet away, I turned back only once, to see him still standing there, smiling at me, and I thought I saw what looked like the sun glinting off tears on his own left cheek. He blew me a kiss, and a gush of wind suddenly seized my hair and blew it back. I turned and ran the rest of the way to the house.


Next Up: The Modules Free Read & Review Chapter - Book 2 in the Modules Series