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“Did you think I was joking when I said Dr. Barnes is watching you? What do you think you’re doing up here?”
“I’m studying. You told me not to fall behind in my classes.”
“And I meant it.” Ian looks at the papers and books strewn across the floor and rubs the back of his neck. “But you can’t segregate yourself from the rest of us. Especially after Rawson’s death. Everyone in the residence is going to think your behavior shows you can’t handle loss or you don’t want to be a part of the University.”
His words make my nerves jump. “Tell them I have nine classes to study for.”
“No, because then they’ll report to Dr. Barnes that your class assignments are too much for you. Luckily, Raffe said you weren’t feeling well during class today. Enzo backed him up, which defused most of the grumbles.” He frowns. “Cia, it’s not enough to get passing grades. You also have to look like everyone else while doing it. That means eating meals in the dining hall, spending some time in the common areas, and making it look like you’re having fun.”
“I’m supposed to make handling nine classes look easy?”
Ian nods. “That’s what leaders do.”
I look down at the pages scattered across the floor. Pressure builds behind my eyes and in my chest. It’s only day two of class, and already I’m feeling the effects of the stress. But I only have to think of the leaders from Five Lakes Colony to know that Ian is right. Though she has the weight of our colony on her shoulders, Magistrate Owens never looks flustered. Even when voicing a serious problem, she has a way of making it feel like a puzzle rather than a life-and-death concern. My father is the same. No matter how worried he might be about a contagion corrupting crops or the way an unrevitalized piece of land is responding to his team’s ministrations, he never shows it. Not to the public. He keeps his frustrations and concerns at home. The minute he walks outside our door, he knows people will be watching his actions. The success of his team means the difference between starvation and survival.
“All right,” I say. “I’ll be at breakfast and dinner tomorrow.”
“Good.” Ian smiles, moves some papers off a chair, and takes a seat. “Once internships start, you won’t be expected at every meal. Unexpected tasks come up all the time. You’ll be able to blame them for the time you take alone to study. Now, since I’m here, do you want me to look at the assignments you have to turn in tomorrow?”
“Why?” I ask. Suspicion wars with gratitude. Is Ian’s offer of assistance due to his own experiences or something more? “Did someone suggest I need help?”
I search Ian’s face for the truth behind his actions. Is he rendering me aid because I am a fellow colonist? Is he the friend Michal spoke of when he said he was being reassigned? Ian sharing information about my Government Studies bracelet tells me he is on my side. But I still don’t know why.
“A friend did tell me that helping a pretty girl with her homework would be a great way to gain her trust. It can be hard to know whom to trust.” Ian pauses. My heart pounds in my chest as I try to hear the message communicated between the words. “That friend trusts me, Cia. You can too.”
Wordlessly, I hand over the pages. Then I try to work while Ian pores over them. He points out a mistake on my calculus assignment and is making suggestions about how to strengthen the ending of a paper when I notice the time. Stacia and Naomy are waiting.
“I have to go.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to the library before it closes.”
Ian’s eyes narrow. “As long as you’re not meeting with your friend Tomas.”
Tomas’s name on Ian’s lips renders me speechless. As far as I know, the two of them have never met.
Ian sighs. “If you’re planning to meet him, don’t. You won’t be doing him any favors. Until we know why Dr. Barnes has singled you out, the only way to keep your boyfriend safe from Dr. Barnes is by staying away.”
Since Tomas turned down my invita
tion tonight, that won’t be a problem. But if we are going to work together to outwit the tracking device, we will have to meet in the future. We could meet in secret, but until we find a way to work around the transmitters in our bracelets, people in charge will know we are together—which, according to Ian, will put Tomas in more danger.
I know what Zeen would do. My brother wouldn’t put a stop to his plans. He would simply find a way to achieve his objective without alerting those watching to his actions. The Transit Communicator in my bag is a perfect example of his ability to follow his own agenda in plain view, and in such a way that no one notices he is doing anything at all. Perhaps I can use that same trick to cover any discussions I have with Tomas.
I shove the papers I need into my bag, shrug on my coat, and go down the stairs. I hear voices coming from the hangout room. Standing in the doorway, I look for familiar faces. Most of the students are upper years. But I spot Raffe and Damone with a couple of other first years in the back corner.
“I’m going to the library to work on my history of technology assignment,” I say as startled eyes swing toward me. “Do any of you want to come with?”
Most say no, which I expect. But Raffe surprises me when he gets up, hoists his University bag onto his shoulder, and says, “I was just about to head over there. Let’s go.”
We walk down to the bridge in silence. Raffe’s steps slow as we cross the bridge. So do mine. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Raffe glance over the rail.
Once the bridge is behind us, he asks, “Are we really going to the library?”
“Where else would we be going?”
He shrugs. “I’m just glad to get out of there for a while. Griffin and Damone are starting to get on my nerves.”
