Read Deviants for Free Online Page B

greater.
    “I didn’t really think I’d hurt you.” I swallow. “It was a joke.”
    “Oh.” He steps toward me, a tentative grin on his lips. “So we’re good?” He glances around the alley, then lowers his voice. “You trust me about Drake?”
    I nod.
    “I’m glad.” He smiles and I risk a moment of eye contact.
    “Glory.” Cal takes a step forward. “Now that I’ve told you everything…” He runs his hand through his hair. Lifting his arm reveals a quick glimpse of his stomach that makes my heart squeeze. “Now that we have no more secrets….”
    I bite my lip.
    “Will you—” He falters. “Can I take you out on a date?”
    I suck in a quick breath.
    I figured he’d ask who was with me when he entered the alley. But he hasn’t mentioned Burn, reinforcing myconclusion that the strange boy must have been a figment of my imagination.
    “If you’d rather not.” Cal looks down. “I thought…I’m sorry.”
    “No—Yes.” My mouth is suddenly very dry. “Sure. Yes.”
    Cal pulls me into another hug and I drift back into a dream state. One where I can pretend it’s okay to trust Cal. Pretend I’m a Normal and safe.
    I stick close to Cal as we step up to the counter in the Human Resources office. After we claimed our rations, Cal suggested we head straight to get our license since we were already in the Hub. Scout and Jayma got theirs today, too, and they left to celebrate.
    The cheery green walls instantly make me think of the apple I had as a child when my father got one as a bonus. My mother cut the fruit into quarters, taking the smallest piece for herself. But thinking of my father and what he did to my mother makes me angry. Anger is the last thing I want to feel, so I rub my ring to erase the emotion.
    The woman behind the counter looks up from her desk and smiles in a way that makes me think she likes her job—who wouldn’t, working in a place that’s been freshly painted in the last four decades? She pats the sides of her blonde hair, piled into a bun at least five inches high. “What a lovely young couple,” she says. “Good luck with the approval process.”
    “Thank you.” Cal puts his hand around my waist.
    Every nerve inside me fires at once, but I don’t pull away. His move is bold, considering our license isn’t yet approved,but any indication that this isn’t consensual might hurt our chances.
    And I want our license approved.
    My logical side knows this relationship is doomed before it starts—I can’t have a future with Cal, or any boy—but I’m intoxicated by the idea of dating, intoxicated by Cal. I want, I deserve, a few brief moments of joy each week. Moments to pretend that I have a chance at happiness, a chance to be loved. Moments to pretend that I’m a Normal.
    “Numbers please?” the HR clerk asks.
    “3-24-63-11.” Cal gives his employee number.
    “3-87-42-25.” I give her mine. Our numbers both start with three, signifying we’re in the third generation of employees since Haven was founded by business leaders who took survival out of the hands of an ineffective BTD organization called government. The list of Haven’s founding corporations and their presidents is on a plaque at the Hub. Our ancestors were among the lucky ones to be saved.
    The woman types the numbers onto her laser-projected keyboard, and the electronic application forms Cal and I filled out at the kiosk appear. She drags a long fingernail over the details, reading the information line by line. The application forms ask for our employee numbers and work placements. Apparently there’d be more paperwork if we worked in the same department, but since I’m still in GT, that’s not an issue.
    “Everything appears complete,” she says. “I won’t be a minute.” She spins on her tall chair and begins a series of sweeping and jabbing hand gestures in the air, pulling and pushing bits of information on and off her projectedscreens as she sorts through the database of Haven