Selected Perfection

01-Before

"If we both pass, we go?"

"And if either fails, we stay." He had confirmed, locking eyes with me.

I nodded, shaking slightly under the gravity of such a decision. Not just the rest of my life or his, but the rest of the world could fall into our lap. We spent our first eighteen years preparing for the test. Growing up, my parents encouraged all their children to exercise regularly and practice mind games to better our chances. Realistically, I don't think there is anything one can do to prepare. From all I've learned, it's based on genetics. Either way, I have no doubt that Tristan will pass.

Since childhood he has been a star athlete. While Alana and I would stay on the sidelines gossiping and playing our word games, Tristan was soaring past the other boys in football, soccer, basketball-if there was 'ball' in the title he had to win. Beyond that, he grew inches above the other children. Even in school he always achieved the top scores independent of time spent studying. I, on the other hand, was near flunking my classes. At first, I was terrified it would be the end of me. With every failed grade brought home, my dad lectured on how I was failing my future. His exact words were, "Ili, you see these red marks?" I would always nod, but never look above my toes, "Every one of those is another reason you won't survive. Another reason you will fail. Is that what you want?"

Turns out, they were a reason for my future. When Alana-perfect Alana with perfect marks-found out, she quickly introduced Tristan and I explaining how I needed his tutoring. From the first moment I met his olive green eyes I was taken. Luckily, it didn't take long for him to start falling either. Within a few tutoring sessions we went from bumping knees, to touching hands, to kissing, to each other's everything. We spent every spare moment together. He would be at my house before school and walk me home after. Sometimes I even found fresh flowers waiting for me or chocolate to enjoy while we watched our shows. Since then I was certain on my future. I forever knew that I would be by his side, and he mine. It no longer mattered if I passed the test because as he said, we either go together or stay together.

♦♦♦

Tristan brushes a strand of hair away from my eyes and pulls me closer into his body. Nights like these have become the normal—me laying in his arms as we share a chair watching one of our shows—yet retain their magic. Truth be told, we end up playing the same episodes on repeat as little watching actually takes place. I lace my hands together behind his neck and pull him down for a kiss. For a moment, he indulges me, tracing circles along my back under my hoodie as our lips move in unison. Then he pulls away with a frown. I playfully pout back and trail my hands down his shoulders to the drawstrings of his hoodie. As my fingers twirl them around I ask, "What's up? Is something wrong?"

"I suppose."

"You suppose?" His tone is cold, they way it sometimes turns when his mind has ventured off without me. I know by now to give him his space to think. My body moves away from his, repositioning on the other side of the couch as he turns off the TV.

"You do realize that tomorrow is the test, correct?"

"I do." It's not as though that's all everyone has talked about for the last, oh I don't know, eighteen years of our lives.

"And yet, you're here messing around with me. Why aren't you asleep? Why aren't you worried or studying or something?" I frown for real this time.

"What do you mean? You were the one who invited me over. And what is there to worry about, we promised to stay together no matter what." I can feel myself recoiling, my words taking on a defensive edge. When we made those promises, they felt like so much more. They weren't just promises of a future but our future.

He throws his hands up in the air frustratedly. "God Ili, don't you understand? Don't you want to pass the test? Whether I'd stay with you or not, don't you want to know that you could do it?"

"Of course I do." I stand in front of him. The urge to shake his shoulders and scream to come back to me is overwhelming. Yet I know that all I need to do is wait. Sometimes he gets like this, sometimes he stresses and worries, sometimes I am the one to shoulder it and remind him everything is okay. "All I ever wanted was to pass this test. Then I met you, and all I wanted was to pass this test with you." At this, his face breaks.

"Right." His head falls down into his hands and I move forward to run my fingers through the back of his hair. "I just want what's best for us, you know? I can't imagine either of us would be happy if you ended up relying on me for everything. I don't think I would be happy if I ever couldn't support us."

"Don't worry so much." I kiss his head.

"One of us has to." And at this point, I recognize it's my cue to leave. Tomorrow we will see each other again soon enough and it'll be back to normal.

I trudge back to my house with my mood thoroughly soured. We were meant to enjoy the night together, take our tests tomorrow, and celebrate afterward to the future. Certainly Alana and Tristan will pass and that alone will be reason for dad to splurge on a nice dinner and dessert. Now I wonder if he will even care to celebrate or see me if I fail. I am no idiot, but certainly not a genius either. When our teachers taped our grades to the wall, mine was nearly always at the average. Unfortunately, average is not accepted into The Paragon. They only take the top 1% of testers each year. It is ridiculous to even assume people would make it in. Logically, it makes more sense to assume otherwise and honor those who do pass.

I suppose dad feels some sort of responsibility to give in return to society as they were the ones who gifted him twins. It is extremely rare for any parents to be gifted twins from The Paragon. Already there is a lengthy and often costly process to have any child as us regular people are no longer allowed to birth ourselves. However as a thank you for our parents' combined research, he was authorized to select his pick from the year's Generation. Somehow, he managed to pick Alana and me.

Our home is small, but acceptable by the community's standards. With mom off doing some new research project, it is probably better that we don't have a mansion to maintain. Unfortunately, as the bedrooms share walls with the kitchen and living room, it is hard to sneak in at any time. Dad is a heavy sleeper, but I expect Alana to welcome me. I had assumed she would study the government-provided notes until the last minute. Only, she isn't in the kitchen. Even as I prepare for bed and fall off to sleep she's nowhere to be found. I leave her a voicemail and text message, but don't get a response before falling off to sleep.

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Author's Note:

Thank you so much for reading! I would love to hear your thoughts so far, or just connect with you!