Unspoken

Chapter 10

I've been living in a hall so blue that it's almost as if the summer sky was used to paint the walls. I can practically feel the warmth on my skin from the sun as I think about it. Xander has to pull me into the elevator after him as I stare at the colors, so beautiful in their freedom.

In the elevator, I finally notice the stains on my white clothes. Blood is splattered down my top and dirt is smudged along the entirety of my outfit. Some traces of the breakfast I'd hardly been able to finish are littered across my side. Xander and the girl both wear clean clothes, cotton shirts and jeans. They look like they're ready for Saturday--the only day we aren't required to dress nice. Even though our clothes are still white in color, they maintain the same easy feeling as the jeans and shirts. Saturday has always been my favorite day. I feel out of place next to them. I want to be dressed for Saturday, too.

The elevator lets us off in a large, spacious room cast in the same yellow as the sun. Round tables are set up farther than my eyes can even see. Hundreds of people sit about as they eat their food. All are dressed for Saturday and smile, laugh, talk to each other. There's a volume to the room that I'm not used to; my ears ache as everyone speaks at once.

I quickly realize that they aren't just simply talking--they're talking about me. Every eye in the room has turned to watch me as I watch them. They look to my cuts and bruises, my stained, white clothing. I'm out of place. I'm not one of them. My shoulders start to tense; what am I doing here?

Xander guides me toward a counter where a man makes up plates of food. Every table I walk by quiets and stares harder. Their whispers follow me through the length of the room.

I try to ignore them, I really do. I follow Xander's guide and stare straight ahead, but my ears catch almost every word they say. Nothing is particularly fond; everyone is very uneasy at my presence. I clench my lips tightly.

This food is steaming as we step up to it. A red-and-gold layered object sits before me, sided with leafy pieces. I stare at the food, letting the steam hit my face and the smell travel through my nose, through every part of my body. I can taste the food on my tongue already.

"The plate isn't going to bite you. You can grab it, you know." The girl watches me carefully. Her eyes are full of amusement, bluer than the sky, the same shade as the ocean. It takes everything I have not to stare.

I do what she says. I take the plate by the edges and carry it after the two Free Speaks. They take a small table in the corner, away from nearly everybody. They must have noticed the whispers and stares, too. I would think you would have to be blind and deaf not to.

The girl sits across from me and Xander takes a spot beside me. I observe her as I eat. The way she tackles her food isn't natural. The process isn't as graceful as it is for Xander. Some time ago, she had to have been Unspoken. The way she treats me and my naivety reminds me of Jeremii. It can only come from someone who was once in my shoes. I glance at her wrist. Sure enough, a Data Tag is partially visible: Baya M.

Baya.

Like a bay, like water. Like her eyes.

Her calm, blue eyes that are everything I wish I was right now.

I eat carefully as the two talk. The food is hot in my mouth and I struggle to taste it at first. Xander proposes I eat the cold food--salad--first, before the hot food--lasagna. They talk about things I don't understand—about work, about people. They use so many words and seem so happy to use them. I'm still so dumbfounded by the easiness of their speech that I can hardly pick up what they say. I eventually give up on listening and only focus on my food.

In the middle of a bite, I hear my name called from behind. Through the light, I can make out Jeremii's tall figure. "Are you almost done?"

I look to my plate. I only have a few bites of everything left. My stomach isn't growling anymore. I must be done being hungry. I nod.

He turns to the other two at our table. "I'm taking him for his check up, then I'll bring him back to his room. He'll be there by dinner."

"I have a couch," Baya says as I rise. I freeze where I'm at and attach my eyes to her face. "He can stay on it. The detainment cells aren't exactly comfortable."

Jeremii is quiet for a moment. Baya's eyes meet mine and I avert my gaze. "Then I'll bring him to your apartment when we're done."

I don't look up again as I follow Jeremii out of the room, away from the whispers, away from Baya.

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A/N: The action may not be taking off now, but soon it will! Keep watching to see what happens next! Vote and comment! I love all the feedback!

Also, you might have noticed I have a new cover! I hope it didn't confuse anyone, the first one was just a filler until I found what I was really looking for!

Enjoy the rest of your days, and I'll *see* you guys again on Friday!

Alisha