dyad | ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ᵒⁿᵉ

⁷ ⁻ ⁿᵉʳᵛᵒᵘˢ.

                             ⁷ ⁻ ⁿᵉʳᵛᵒᵘˢ.

No one would understand the queasy feeling I had gotten in my stomach when our names were called together. It was just my luck; I had just finished telling Joshua about him, and now Joshua's lips were turned up into a smirk. For a boy that doesn't talk, he sure does know how to get under my skin. "Don't look at me like that," I hissed at him, referring to his hazel eyes that were ablaze. He was planning something, and I didn't like it one bit. "You stop that, I'm serious, Josh," I told him, my voice almost cracking. I don't care what how you perceived Joshua, he was anything but innocent. The cute waves, the short goatee, those faint freckles pulled you in, and then you were trapped. 

I stared at him, trying to give him my best death stare, but it failed. It only made him smile, but his smirk returned when he began to look at something behind me. I turned my head, and nearly fell out of my chair. Josiah. He was coming towards me. Me. My heart started to race in my chest, and I took a deep breath as I watched him come up to me. He gave me a smile, standing before me. His bag was on his shoulder, and I noticed that he had a thing for spikes. In his hand, he held a small piece, he took my hand, holding it in his before placing the paper in my hand. His hand wasn't shaking, nor was it sweaty..it was actually soft. Something seemed off about him, though, but I couldn't place my finger on it. 

He closed my hand, giving me a wink as he let it go. I watched him leave the room. I slowly turned my head to Joshua, and his smirk was now from ear to ear. The glint he had in his eyes from earlier was even more noticeable, and it sent chills down my spine. "What?" I asked. He shook his head, and placed his books in his book bag, standing up. I slid my notebook into mine, and Joshua took it off the desk, adjusting it on his shoulder. I really needed a new bag, as mine was hanging on by a few threads. It had been with me for a while, since I was in middle school. But we couldn't afford a new bag for me, the other kids needed things as well, and on top of that, we needed most of the money to buy food. 

Most of the time, my mind was preoccupied with worrying about the kids at home. They weren't like me; some of them were born Wilts and had this glamorized image in their head about being a Bloom. They didn't understand that trying to become a Bloom was a long way up, and some of them would be hurt along the way. I felt for them; they didn't ask to be born into this society. Sadly, I don't think things were going to change, any time soon. 

Joshua and I exited out of the back of the school, like we usually did. Out here was the teacher parking lot, where we walked across and into the woods. This was how we got home, out of sight from all the Blooms who liked to crowd around outside the front of the school. It didn't take us long to get home, as we took several shortcuts along the way. I made sure to hold onto Joshua's shirt, just in case someone, or something decided to pop out at us. One time, a dog came out of nowhere, and we had to run for our lives. I sprained my ankle because my clumsy self tripped over my own feet, and Joshua had to carry me the rest of the way home. I was fifteen at the time, but ever since then, I've been terrified of dogs. 

My mind lingered over the events from school today. Josiah's something else, really. First he buys me lunch, and eats with me, then he gives me his jacket..now we're partners for a yearlong project. Mrs. Thompson was right when she said that this was going to pull us out of our comfort zones..I was just hoping that it wasn't going to have me revealing too much about myself. I was scared of how this would turn out..what if Josiah followed me home one day, and came back to school, telling everyone that I was a Wilt? Being a Wilt was already horrible enough, and everyone finding out about it? I didn't want to think of the outcome. That's my worst nightmare. 

Joshua and I turned down the dirt path, walking past the town's sign. The letters were chipped and fading, just like everything else around here. I ran my fingertips over the words, Palm Meadows, and sighed. I wonder how everything used to look before the Big Split. Back then, everyone used to be a Bloom, and everything was almost perfect. I really think that was impossible, but someone made a speech, and all of a sudden, people started becoming Wilts. It was almost like the chose people at will. Families were broken up, relationships were torn, and those who were chosen were given a new status: Wilt. That's what Mary told me.