Changing States ~Chapter 1~

Now, over a hundred years later, the rows of mansions in the eastern sector of my City are shared between many more families than there are houses. I can stand on the balcony outside my bedroom window and count most of mine and my younger brother's classmates just by sight.

"Morning, Flory!" My best friend calls my name from the door to my room. I turn around and smile at him with my usual cheer—my family and Noah's have shared this house ever since I was born, when my parents had to move out of singles housing and into family.

"Morning, Noah." I stand up from where I was leaning on the balustrade and glance over my shoulder one last time at the waking City before I step into my room. The sliding-glass doors close behind me with a rattle, and I toss my nightclothes from my bed into the clothing chute to tidy up my room. "Ready for another day at School?"

He pulls a face. "No way. Just came to make sure you were up. Hurry down if you want breakfast," he calls as he disappears down the hall to the stairs.

"Save me something!" I shout after him, but if I know these families, I really will have to rush to get anything for myself. I sigh and take a look at myself in the standing mirror in my room—it's a little luxury that I got for myself a few years ago from a secondhand shop. One of the corners is cracked, but it still shows my reflection just fine, so I'm happy with it.

For all that it's a Wednesday, I look nice today, I think. My hair is curling backwards from my face in the light spring humidity, but the little flyaways catch the light and make it shine silver instead of my dull mousy brown. I took special care to dress in my nice clothes, too, a slim black button-down shirt and white slacks; the Dean of my School said that Graduation counselors were coming today to help the last-year students determine what we want to do with our lives after school lets out, and I want to impress anyone who works with the Government.

With my test scores, I could probably get into the College of the State, but I don't know what I would want to study. It's much easier to work immediately for the Government and let them tell me what I'm good at; they probably know better than I do, in any case. I can see myself working as a teacher, or maybe as an event organizer, but it's unpredictable—and whatever the Governnment decides to assign me to, they'll give me any education I need to succeed.

I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and smile at myself in the mirror. I'm not really feeling confident, especially not about talking to Government officials, but as long as I fake it, no one else will know. Not Mom or Dad, not Noah, and especially not my little brother.

"Good morning, dear," Noah's mom says as I pass her on my way downstairs. Mrs. Pace is practically my second mother; she and my mom didn't know each other before our families moved in together, but they've grown really close. Sometimes it's nice, like when my parents are busy and the Paces make our School lunches for the week—sometimes, like when my homework grade is dropping, it feels like I'm living in a house with four bears.

"Morning!" I slip down the stairs before she can ask me about the assignment I forgot to do last week; if nothing else, at least I know I'm more responsible than Noah. That kid wouldn't do his homework if it was the only thing to save the country from another Dissolution.

"Ready for School, Flory?" Of course my dad's there to catch me at the bottom of the stairs, peering at me through his light-adjusted contact lenses. He must have just gotten home from work; he always looks dead tired after a long night of working in the City Records Office.

"Yes, Dad." I stand on my tiptoes to wrap my arms around his shoulders—my mom and I both swear that Dad is seven feet tall and the doctors are lying to us. His six-foot-two frame towers over me at five-foot-five, let alone my five-foot-two mom. I wonder how my parents ever got together with such a height difference. "I'll see you tonight, Dad."

"Stay safe," he says tiredly as he makes his way up the stairs to his bedroom. Sometimes this house feels smaller than it really is, with seven people living here, but we still have enough rooms for everyone to have their own. It's probably a good thing, with all our different schedules.

Stay safe. That's good advice—some of the best advice Dad ever gave me as a kid, so maybe it holds true now, too. As long as I stay safe, nothing can hurt me. It's not like this is an ultimate determination of my future, anyway, just a long chat with a Government official who can help me figure out what I might want to do. Nothing's mandatory, nothing's final, and I'll make it out alive.

I grab a muffin from the little breakfast tray in our kitchen, and Noah slings his arm around my shoulders. "Come on!" he says, leading me out our front door and into the quiet Georgia sunrise. "We don't want to be late, right?"

"Right," I mumble through a mouthful of blueberry-pocked dough. It wouldn't be a good first impression if we were late to School—and personally, I want to attend Graduation before I'm twenty. A couple of little kids race past us, laughing gleefully on their way, and I wonder when we stopped being those kids and started being adults.

It's probably best not to dwell on these things. I shrug it off, swallow my muffin, and head for the second-most-important School day of my life.