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the gate would open, but the rusty piece of junk didn’t budge. Had I been denied access? I should be able to get all the way through to Ring Six without too much trouble. I realized that if I left at sixteen, I would never be granted access through gate Seven or Eight.
    “ Allow me,” the smirking boy said, as he jumped agilely from the concrete post, landing with a thump. He sidled up to me, a big smile on his face. He rattled the scanner and adjusted the beam. He grabbed my wrist, without asking, and put it at a funny angle until I heard the familiar, long beep and the latch of the gate retracting.
    “ Rosa Bianca,” the electronic voice spoke.
     
    “Um, thanks,” I said. His warm hand was still clutched around my skinny wrist. I looked up at him coolly, “Can I have my hand back now?”
    “ Sure,” he said as he shook my stiff hand enthusiastically. I pulled back my arm sharply and pushed through the gate. I was not in the mood for company. I had a lot of searching through pointless options to do before I slunk home, just after dinner, so I didn’t have to talk to my mother about what I was thinking.
    “ Joseph Sulle,” the voice announced. I heard the gate shut and I quickened my pace towards the only place I knew I could really be alone. Loud, thumping footsteps followed behind me.

“Bianca? I know that name. Where are you from?” he asked, catching up to me with Big, thumping strides.
    “ Same as you, same as everyone,” I snarled, “Ring Three, Pau Brasil.” As I walked, I tied my hair back from my face, pulling it into a low ponytail.
    “ No, what’s your family background?” he laughed, infuriatingly. He didn’t seem to be getting my tone or he was ignoring it. This boy seemed glib and I didn’t appreciate his condescending question. I understood what he meant—I just didn’t want to talk to him.
    “ I don’t have a family,” I lied unconvincingly, quickening my pace. What did he care?
    He matched my steps.
    I spun around to look at him, my ponytail whipping me in the face, a mouthful of hair momentarily derailing my anger. I took his large frame in. He seemed much taller and broader than most of the boys in Ring Three. He stood a good foot and a half over me and he was big. Not fat, just tall and well-muscled. His face was strong and older looking, with a sharp, chiseled jaw and a slightly crooked nose. His long, light eyelashes framed green, staring eyes that had no compunction about continuing to stare.
    His hair and skin was lighter than most people in Pau. He didn ’t even have a hint of a tan and his hair, which was falling in his eyes, was blonde and curly. Not tight, ringlet curls, just a gentle, golden wave of thick shiny hair that made its way over his ears, and stopped above his neck. When he looked up, the curls linked into each other, like the weave of a basket across his brows. When he disturbed those gentle links, loose curls would fall in his eyes. He probably attracted a lot of attention, with his pretty eyes and incessant smiling. He was handsome, but irritatingly so, and I wished he would divert his attention away from me.
    “ You mean, you don’t have a family anymore,” he said in a more serious tone. “I’m sure you had one, maybe you just lost it.” His eyes showed a winking concern. Or maybe pity? This made me even more furious. I wasn’t sure what he meant by that—I knew where my family was. I hadn’t lost them like a misplaced library book. I just knew I needed to start letting them go and also, it was none of his business.
    “ What’s your father’s name?”
    I looked at him suspiciously , narrowing my eyes, wishing I had a weapon of some kind. Why was he asking me so many questions?
    “ Whoa!” He put his hands up in mock surrender. “Don’t worry, Miss, I am not the secret police or anything, just curious. You look very familiar to me. Something about those beautiful eyes…”
    Ugh! My eyes. The topic of much discussion. The source of much