Secret Aversion

Chapter 9

*Ari's POV*

I received a notice the following morning, informing me that my work position was moved to the fields today. I grabbed a pair of brown clothes to take with me to the showers. I forgot how crowded the commotion in the tunnels were with inmates rushing to make it to the fields on time. 

         I couldn’t spot Apsara, but I found Florence managing the same area of the ground I’d been working on before. She was wearing her usual green uniform and a tight braid twined to the side of her neck. She wasn’t surprised when she saw me, but didn’t bother greeting me. Did she forget who I was?

         “While you were gone enjoying life at the mansion,” she said, lingering at my dugout as I grabbed a shovel, “the two Platform members next to you took care of your land.” Her eyes appeared hooded under her hat.

         “I didn’t enjoy myself,” I told her. “I’m grateful others took care of my land, but I’m very happy to be back.” 

         “Happy? Was it worse there?” Florence crossed her arms. “Did Emerson make you clean all the toilets and greasy dishes?” Was she mocking me?

         “I know how you feel,” I said, ignoring the disdain in her voice.

        I paused and glanced around at the others. Their sleeves were rolled up, foreheads glistening with sweat, and I heard the sound of metal sinking into soil and tractors riding on the finished land beyond. There was significant progress, but much still incomplete.

        “I didn’t like being a maid because I had to stay far away from these people,” I said, getting back to work. My hands had already started to ache, but the burning in my bones reminded me of reality. “I wanted to help. I didn’t think it was right to be at the mansion while my friends were out here working.”

        Florence watched my strained movements and the tips of my pants dirtying in the ditch. “Arial, wasn’t it?” she said, with furrowed brows. Yes, she knew exactly who I was. “You’re too naïve. Having this much sincerity is dangerous.”

        I frowned and dropped the shovel. “But I don’t want to encourage this. I hate being tied to the Project and letting the Donegans throw our lives around.”

        Florence picked up the shovel. “A lot of riots have already occurred across the Platforms. The most severely reprimanded was Platform A; the kids. They want their parents, but it’s a hopeless wish. They will be tortured.”

        A sudden image of Andy and Liara popped into my head. They were Arian’s youngest siblings, and were given confidence by their mother to survive by themselves in the cells. I wanted to see them quite badly, and ensure they were safe.

        “But it’s hard to make a move,” Florence said, handing me the shovel. “All the riots resulted in punishment, and the tension is unbearable.” She rubbed her forehead and let out an exasperated breath. “Why am I even talking to you? My responsibility is to assess your progress.”

        “I’ll try not trouble you,” I murmured. “But I’m still not afraid of you.”

        Her lips pursed. “Continue fixing that wretched land. You have lots of work to do after returning from the mansion. Let’s hope this day counts.”

        I did work, but the activity made me a monotonous machine. I hadn't realize lunch break arrived until someone shoved an aluminum pack into my hands. I felt dizzy for a second before lifting my head in search of Crimson.

        She thought she was hallucinating when she saw me.

        “Where. The. Hell. Were you?!” she exclaimed. I pulled her to the fence and shushed her. “Dude, I thought they killed you or something. I thought you messed up somewhere and they locked you up.”

        I told her about the maid job and the schedule I had to follow on a regular basis. She told me how lucky I was, and I smiled sadly in response.

        “You know, I’m ready to jump off a bridge at this point,” she said with her mouth full of food. “I think I lost like, fifty pounds. Talk about malnutrition. And I didn’t have anyone to talk to most of the time, so I cursed you in my head for abandoning me.”

        “Crimson, were there any serious accidents or riots in Platform B?” I asked.

        She shrugged a shoulder. “No one cares. They’re just going with the flow to avoid getting into trouble. The Green Squads are harsh on us.” She pointed to a man I vaguely remembered. “He’s the biggest squad asshole.”

        I felt a tap on my shoulder and looked behind my shoulder to see a flustered boy with brown, disheveled hair. Now I remember. He was the same boy that had hit his head on a stone after being scolded by that barbaric squad man Crimson pointed to.

        “Oh, hey. How’s your head?” I asked. I could see the scar that was left behind on his temple, which hadn’t fully healed.

        “This guy’s such a clumsy a*s,” Crimson said, rolling her eyes. He shot her a glare. “But they’ve been going a bit easy on him. I think it’s thanks to you, Ari.” Thanks to me?

        The boy slipped a hand behind his beck. “Sorry I didn’t appreciate your help that day,” he said. “But I actually do. No one here has a heart and soul.” That wasn’t true, but I didn’t want to delve into a speech about human righteousness. “I better go back. Lunch is about to end.” He returned to his land.

        “His name is Darcel, by the way,” Crimson said. “Pretty much everyone knows since that man screeches it out whenever he makes mistakes. I feel bad for him.” How many times would I have been yelled at if I continued to work on the fields? “Urgh. I need to go to the hair salon. Look at my hair. It’s so boring!” Crimson continued to complain, and picked up a few strands of outgrown hair.

        “You might soon,” I said, trying to spark some hope. She didn’t buy it, and I knew it wasn’t likely either.

        I didn’t want to return to my cell after we were done our shifts, and I certainly didn’t want to leave Crimson for who-knew-how-long before I could see her again. I wish I had dynamite so I could blow up Emerson’s head, she had grumbled while stomping back to her land.

        But I wanted the day to end as soon as possible so I could meet Arian. The thought of him was faint while I worked, but in the calm bliss and dull darkness of my cell, he consumed my thoughts. My phone was dead so I had no way of calling him either. He said he wanted to show me something, and I hoped it wasn’t another destructed sight. Nightingale sure was a depressing place.

        An eternity might’ve passed when I heard a beep from the door. I sprung from my bed before it even opened and crashed into the metal. Suppressing a cry, I clutched my foot. The door opened and two gleaming eyes pierced at me in the dark.

        “Do you want to wake the entire Platform?” Arian hissed. I whispered an apology and hobbled on one foot. When I took a proper look at him—while he, too, paused to survey me—I couldn’t help but shyly lower my gaze. He was wearing his NE coat as usual, buttoned to his neck, and a lock of dark licorice hair came lose over his eye. His hair had grown longer from the time we left Brilliant Cove. I wanted to run my fingers through it, but he was too tall to reach.

        “Um, where did you want to take me?” I asked, trying to flush the thought from my head.

        Arian cleared his throat and ushered me out before closing the door. “You’ll see for yourself.” We quietly left the tunnel and he led us to his bike. “I’m warning you now. Don’t be upset or I’m not taking you there again.” Judging by his tone, this place was bound to upset me either way.

        I climbed onto the bike first and placed my hands on the leather seat.

        “I won’t be upset,” I assured, reassuring myself.

        Arian hesitated, lifted his hand, debated more, and at last moved it to my cheek. His fingers were cool, but sent a spark of warmth across my skin. Our eyes latched onto each other’s, his more skeptical.

        “I know when you lie,” he said. He did now, huh? “Scooch over.” I moved back to give him room to climb on. My arms bound around him as he started the bike, and I rested my cheek on his coat. 

        Wherever the road took us this time, I hoped it would never end.