The Truth Within a Lie- Chapter 3 (rewrite)

I slide my ID across the scanner on our apartment. “Emma Weaver. Permanent resident with undenied access,” the HomeMonitor reports cheerfully. The door opens and the smell of chicken noodle soup wafts into the hallway.

The words ‘Permanent Resident’ burn in my mind. I hear them every time I enter the apartment, but now, with the fear that I may fail the M.T.A. again, my heart races. Maybe it’s an omen. A prediction that I will be a permanent resident here, trapped living with my aunt and uncle for the rest of my life. No, I attempt to reassure myself and jump to an even more pessimistic future. They’d probably just send me out the Outer Ring to work in a warehouse or on a farm. Neither of the ideas give me any hope. Hope is what I need right now.

Sierra rests her hand on my shoulder, as if prepared to steady me if I happen to pass out.

“You ok?” she adds, trying to read my expression. No one can understand how terrified I am at the possibility of failing again. And I’m determined not to let them know. I have to show them I’m brave. I relax my posture and take a deep breath.

“I’m fine. Just exhausted,” I smile as I say it to be more convincing. She seems to accept it and takes the next step into the room.

“We’re home!” she shouts, as she lowers her knapsack to the floor. I pull mine off and set it beside hers. Aunt Lillian bustles around the corner, a huge grin on her face as she pulls both of us into a hug.

“You girls made it before the rest of the Clements,” my aunt says approvingly, “for once.” We glance at each other and smile knowingly, glad that we didn’t miss our ride home. My aunt wears her feelings on her sleeves most of the time, only hiding her true feelings when she’s afraid it will hurt someone. The meaning of the expression on her face is clear to me, since I’ve become familiar with over the last seven or eight years. It’s worry. Specifically, worrying about me. All I can do is smile now. Keep up the false positivity until I get the chance to update her privately. Results are not to be discussed.

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“I promise you, Tim, that Anderson wanted to be here,” Deborah Clements says remorsefully, “Everything has been crazy at the Markets. Lots of people to keep in line.”

“Is anything wrong?” Uncle Tim asks, stirring his soup casually as he waits for an answer.

“Everything is fine on our side of things. It’s just an accident that happened in one of the Cities in our region. There was a fire that burned most of their wheat crop.”

“That’s absolutely terrible!” my aunt exclaims, “Do they know the cause?”

“They can’t figure it out. No live witnesses. All the Out-Ringers tending the fields died saving the fields.” She takes a delicate sip of soup from her spoon before continuing. “But Andy is in the business of working out some deal with that Citi’s Market to compensate for the lost wheat. Apparently, the Out-Ringers need a steady supply to feed the workers.”

“Those poor people,” my uncle mutters softly, his mind obviously burdened by this new information.

“It’s a management issue really,” Deborah adds, before taking a well-proportioned bite out of her dinner roll.” She swallows it and presses forward. “If they had just made sure that those Out-Ringers had done their jobs right… we wouldn’t have to send them help.” Another bite is taken from the dinner roll clenched in her hand, “That’s the way I see it anyway. They pay for their own mistakes.”

An awkward silence grips the room as we digest the harsh words of Deborah Clements. Except for Sierra and Deborah, who remain blissfully unaware of how unjust her final statement was. Then, my uncle reaches across the table with obvious effort and drops his roll back into the basket.

“I’m not hungry,” he says, as he pushes forwards on the wheels of his wheelchair, removing himself from the table. A moment or two, the study door closes loudly.

“He just doesn’t have the same appetite these days,” Aunt Lillian says in an attempt to explain his actions to the surprised Clements. Sierra’s eyebrows raise questioningly at me. I shrug in response.

The conversation starts up once more and we continue eating. My aunt’s bowl of soup is empty, but her dinner roll sits untouched on her napkin. I decide to set mine aside as well, but I wonder what the point is. What good will it do for the other city now if we return three dinner rolls into a basket? Maybe it’s just my uncle’s way of taking a stand, saying we disagree with the way Deborah degrades the Out-Ringers. I entertain the idea of putting my bread back as well, but I hesitate. It’s not worth it.

“I don’t know if you have heard, but Cody will be stopping by this week,” Deborah speaks again.

“Really?” Sierra exclaims, eyes wide with excitement, “You didn’t tell me that!” A smile spreads across her face like wildfire as she turns to me, “I haven’t seen him since last year!”

“How’s training been?” Aunt Lil asks Deborah, “He’s at Radcliffe, right?”

“He’s doing very well. Leading his own troop and mentioned some girl that he’s been seeing for the past few months. Her father’s a military man himself and his mother owns a clothing outlet in her home-town. Just of Cody’s caliber as a leader.”

“He didn’t mention ‘her’ to me,” Sierra says, sounding slightly wounded. As her older brother, Cody has been her role model. Not hearing about this new ‘girl’ he’s been seeing must be tearing her up.

Deborah clicks her tongue harshly at her, “Well, there’s been a lot on your mind lately. I didn’t want to overload you with too much. Plus, it was supposed to be a surprise that Cody was coming to see you off… I couldn’t tell you I’d been in contact with him.”

“I message him weekly, Mom,” Sierra explains, frustration rising in her voice, “I just wish he would have dropped a few hints…”

“Wait,” I interrupt, glancing at Deborah in confusion. Something she said a moment ago pulls at my attention. “Cody is coming to see her off? But she hasn’t been…”

Realization dawns on me and I twist my head to face Sierra again. Her eyes are wide with surprise.

“Mom!” she mutters angrily, burying her face in her hands.

Deborah’s eyes grow wider also, but the reaction is delayed, “It was time to tell her anyway! You couldn’t expect me to keep it a secret for another week, could you?”

A week. She has known for a week. And she didn’t tell me anything.

“That’s great news,” my aunt says, a proud smile that cuts through the anger of the room, “Where is it?”

“Driskill Limited Forces Academy,” Sierra states mechanically, not sounding remotely proud of the school that her mother seems to be so impressed with. Her eyes plead forgiveness. Forgiveness for hiding this from me from all this time. Good intentions don’t look as good anymore. I take a vicious bite of my untouched dinner roll as I avoid eye contact with her.

“It’s a great school,” Deborah says excitedly, the variations of emotions in the room completely beneath her notice, “It’s highly selective and strict. Students don’t return until they’ve been at the camp for an entire year. She’s very excited.”

Sierra looks very far from excited at the moment. Seizing the moment of silence as her only opportunity, she begins her apology. “Emma. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away. It’s just…”

Deborah chooses to interject her words of wisdom, “With you retaking the MTA, she didn’t want to pressure you. After all, Driskill only accepts first-time graduates. There wasn’t a chance you could…”

I practically leap out of my chair. Deborah’s eyes spring open in a look of genuine surprise. Reaching over the back of the chair, I swiftly grab the remains of my dinner roll and storm out of the dining area. I hear scattered pieces of conversation, most likely it’s Aunt Lil trying to justify or explain my actions. My attempt to slam the door to my room fails as the magnets on the door repel its momentum, then gradually draw the door closed with a click.

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The door opens a few minutes later and Aunt Lil peeks her head inside. I wipe away the tears in my eyes from my brief spout of anger.

“The Clements are leaving,” she says, obviously compelling me to come say goodbye. Maybe she even wants me to apologize. I nod understandingly, but make no move to get up.

Her lips press together in a tight line and the door closes once more. I sigh, relieved that my aunt didn’t try any harder to get me to leave the safety of my room. Then, the door reopens. Sierra steps inside the room, the door clicking into place behind her.

“It was a really bad idea,” she starts out, cautiously making her way to sit on my bed, “To hide it from you. I just didn’t want…” Her voice drops off and she takes a deep, calming breath. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Why would knowing that you’re about to leave hurt me?” I ask, attempting to restrain the betrayal in my tone.

“I didn’t want you to think that you had no chance.”

“I already had no chance,” I say, drumming my fingers on my legs anxiously, “You of all people should see that.”

“If you would just believe that you could…”

“I did believe that I could. And then I failed.”

“Just keep trying. Eventually…”

“There’s no way I’ll ever get to Driskill. You heard what your mom said. First-time successes only. I’m not going to be with you.”

The full impact of those words hits both of us hard. We’re not going to the same training and be in the same troop. All those childhood dreams are falling apart. I wonder if either of us saw it coming.

I certainly didn’t.

“We can go get your score together tomorrow. If that would help,” she adds helpfully.

“I’ll go alone. I’d hate to depress you with yet another negative score.” I attempt a smile, but the words are too far from a joke for it to soften them.

“You could get it this time.” She stands up and I follow her to the door of my room.

That time, it’s a little easier to smile. “If I’m lucky.”

She extends her arms out and we hug. What am I going to do without her? There’s not one other person my age who has shown as much care as she has. And now, I’m about to lose her. I stifle my tears until she leaves the room.

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That night I go to sleep in fear. Fear that I will be a burden to my family. That my country will reject me. And that the closest friend I ever had will have no choice, but to leave me behind.