Chapter Eight: Rush

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There is no gasp of recognition from Kasie. She merely stares at the newcomer with a blank expression on her face.

     I look up to examine him. He is slightly taller than me and has sleek blond hair that I cannot help envy. I glance down at my own. The brown looks like it cannot decide between blonde or black.

     His eyes are a light green colour, and then I jolt, realizing that they are upon me. I watch his gaze lingers down to my collarbone—exactly at the place where my mark should be. I swallow and then pull the collar of my shirt up, hoping to hide the mark. The ‘7’ on my collarbone does not feel like an honour, and I would erase it from my skin if I could.

     “Which sector are you from?” Kasie asks, crossing her arms and eyeing him suspiciously.

     “Eighth sector, city of Vainglory,” is his smooth reply. His arms are crossed over his chest.

     Kasie takes a step back. “Isn’t that where the majority of the officials live?”

     Tabitha nods in answer. “Rush lived on the fringes of Vainglory.”

     “The citizens of Vainglory said we lived in the city of Sapodilla even though we were closer to Vainglory than Sapodilla. They couldn’t admit that people like us lived close to them.” There’s a hint of bitterness in his voice, but there’s no difference in those cold eyes.

     Kasie’s hard tone softens immediately. “Vainglory does live up to its name.”

     Mallory takes the questioning from Kasie. “Why are you here? Why are you still in Sapodilla or Vainglory or wherever you came from?”

     “I heard of a rebel group,” Rush says, his eyes wide with honestly. “It doesn’t take much for rumours to travel around, especially in Vainglory. They like to talk­—”

     “—But never take action,” Gordon finishes, a grin upon his face. “That’s a common provocation line that the rebels use.”

     “Your shibboleth,” Rush says, grinning widely before brushing his light hair from his eyes. I don’t know why, but the change in his demeanour makes me like him less. The grin upon his face can’t be that different from Gordon, but it is.

     Rush turns to assess all of us in a critical green-eyed look that makes me shrink back. His lips tug up in a mocking way when he examines me.

     “So you’re a friendly bunch,” he says, drawing out the words slowly and loudly that hurts my ears. The pretense of his seriousness is gone. He lifts his prominent chin, giving a false sense of superiority. “Tabitha and Gordon have already told me their names. What are yours?”

     Mallory answers. “I’m Mallory. That’s Kasie.”

     Rush turns his look to me. “And you?”

     ‘Seven’ is on the tip of my tongue, but then I hold it in. I don’t want that name anymore. Seven Young is another girl living another life. I’m not her. Neither am I Hope. She’s a different person—a little girl who has never been through the life I have.

     I don’t have a true name. I just have two false shells that I had once lived in and then outgrown. Who am I now? I’m afraid that I’m still looking for that shell.

     I shrug and look away. The others don’t step in, and I know that Rush is much too persistent to let this slide by. I’m saved by Tabitha’s impatient words.

     “We’re not here to talk,” Tabitha says, moving forward again. “Look, we got to the trusting point. Now we need to move on. We can talk while we continue moving on. We’re wasting time just by standing around here.” She turns and gives us a look when silence follows her words. “Well? Are we going to stay here forever?”

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