Eighteen

Chapter 4

Paige rolled the card between her palms, it's edges bending between the two surfaces. We were sitting at her kitchen table, pondering over what had just happened.

"Do you . . ." she started.

"Do I what?"

"Do you think that woman was really trying to help?  Like, maybe she knows how I can pass the test?"

"Well, she has a card . . ." I pulled the slip of paper out of my pocket. "I'm going to throw this away." I stood up, but Paige grabbed my hand.

"Wait!" she said suddenly. "What if this could really help us? What if the woman wasn't crazy?"

"Geez, Paige, are you seriously considering calling her?" I asked, managing to pull my arm away.

"Well, I'd die anyway, so it would be worth a shot," she said.

"But you don't even know anything about her!"  I protested.  "That woman could be working for the government for all we know!  Paige, how do you think a creepy little old lady like her could ever help you pass the test?"

"That's why I'm gonna ask her," she replied, waving the card in front of my face. "I'll call her about it, just like she told us to."

I was bewildered. "So after meeting her only once, you're trusting this insane woman?" I exclaimed.

"Well . . ."

"Paige, please. I don't want anything happening to you. Don't you know how many people have protested against the government and were killed? I have a feeling that's what she's trying to get you to do.  At least if you take the test, you'll have a chance."

She let out a heavy sigh, crossing her arms on the wooden table and allowing her head fall into them. "You really do think I'm crazy, don't you," she said, her voice muffled through a layer of skin and heavy clothing.

I sighed. "No, I don't . . . I just don't think that's the best idea."

She paused for a moment, and then slowly lifted her head. "You're right." She brushed loose strands of long hair off her face, finally deciding to make eye contact with me. "I'm just a girl. Nothing special. There are so many others just like me who have died . . . so many others who were helpless to the government. Like me."

Tears started to swell up in my eyes. "No, Paige!" I exclaimed. "I didn't mean it like that! I just . . . I just . . . you will make it! I don't want you risking your life in that rebel group when you have a decent chance of passing the test."

She stared blankly down at the granite counter in front of her, a glum expression on her face. An uncomfortable silence stretched in between us, making me feel awkward. I didn't know how to comfort her.  Or even myself.

"I'm hungry.  Want some grilled cheese for lunch?"  Paige grumbled, grabbing a loaf of bread from the large counter and bringing it to the stove.

"Sure."

Just as Paige was tearing open the wrapping, we heard sirens right outside.  Sirens were rarely sounded, especially when the government wanted to have as many people killed as possible.  Paige dropped the loaf on the table, running to the front of the house and looking out the huge windows facing the road.  I followed closely behind, and for some reason I prayed that my mother was okay.

Firetrucks and ambulances raced down the street, disappearing from view as quickly as they came.  "Weird,"  I mumbled.

"I know."  Paige was pressed against the window.  "Uh-oh."

"What?"  I asked.

"Look, Morgan," she said, pulling me to where she was standing.  "You see the house they're pulled over at?"