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snapped. “Watch where you’re going.”
    He yelled something more, but the monorail pulled up to the station, approaching the tracks with a screech. Davis couldn’t make out his words, but as she stepped on the monorail car she looked back to see one of the Priors yelling obscenities at her. Then, for no reason at all, he shoved one of the Imps, who’d told him to chill out. Then several of the others jumped in, and soon it was a full-on fight between Imps and Priors. The train was stalled; an automated announcement said it was being held at the station.
    Tonight was falling apart. Davis felt like she was dancing and all her moves were missteps. Why had the Prior been such a jerk? She hadn’t done anything to him, and now they were all fighting over nothing—but she’d had a part in starting it, even though she didn’t get how. She felt compelled to do something about it, so she left the car and ran toward the group. If the Imps just stayed in the Slants, this wouldn’t be happening at all. But then, why had the Imps bothered to fight on her behalf? Why was any of this happening at all?
    “Stop!” she shouted at them, her heart racing. All this over her. Over a stupid accident. “You’re being insane. This is ridiculous!” She yanked at one Prior’s arm, trying to pull him away from an Imp, but the Prior was too strong. “Please,” she said again. “Please just stop this.” She was near tears, breathless from the violence of it all and the fact that she’d catapulted it in this direction. She stepped toward the group but was shoved back painfully. Determined, she tried again, moving for a Prior who was poised to punch an Imp. Suddenly she felt a strong hand on her arm, and she looked up into the green eyes of a handsome tanned, sandy-haired guy about her age. Without saying anything, he lifted her and carried her back to the monorail, planting her safely inside as the doors slid to a close behind her.
    She was safe, but the fight was getting worse. One of the Priors threw a punch that knocked an Imp to the ground; then the Prior kicked the Imp in the stomach and he rolled over into the fetal position, clutching his torso. She met the eyes of the boy who’d put her in the car, which were locked on hers. She put a hand to the window. It was impossible to tell if he was an Imp or a Prior; his handsome features suggested Prior, but he was dressed in a worn undershirt and torn, ragged jeans. She didn’t recognize him. He lingered on her for a brief second, then rejoined the group, kneeling behind the fallen Imp and fielding other blows. He looked invincible. As the monorail pulled out of the station, she looked back to see him pulling bodies from bodies, attempting to break up the fight.
    Davis dialed her dad on DirecTalk, her hand shaking.
    “Daddy,” she said. “Dad. I’m on my way home. I’m—”
    “What is it?” he asked, his voice laden with concern. “Davis, you sound upset. Did something happen?”
    “No. Yes. I mean, I passed a fight. A fight about Priors and Imps and the strike and segregation and—it just got so violent. I’m scared, Dad.”
    “Where are you?” he asked, his voice urgent.
    “It was … within Columbus proper. Just outside the restaurant where I was eating.” It wasn’t a lie, but Davis knew her father wouldn’t have wanted her so near the Slants.
    “Just get home, sweetie. It’ll be okay. I promise. I’m working toward straightening all of this out. That’s what the campaign is about. We’re working for it. Just get home safe.”
    Davis said good-bye and hung up, but as the monorail sped past the city she realized she was only partially heartened by her dad’s response. His words had been comforting, but his tone was urgent, like he was rushing to convince himself of what he was saying. Davis pushed the thoughts out of her mind. It was almost easier to think of Seth than what was happening across the Slants.
    Then the thought of Gaby’s message hit Davis all