The Genetic Code

Chapter 9

"Anyway, you know full well that I can't eat in the cafe," I say, trying to change the subject. He merely lifts his eyebrows. I'm unable to decipher his reaction.

"Oh, I almost forgot," I reach into my backpack and pull out a small plastic bag. He recognizes it immediately, eyes narrowing.

"I told you to keep it."

"It hurts my pride too," I admit to him, "to receive freebies from people I've just met."

Face as stoic as usual, he assumes a completely unreadable tone, like an anchor delivering the news, "We met two days before that. Actually, two years before that. Twice. Get your facts straight."

Hearing these words from him, I find myself at a loss of words.

So he does remember. Two years ago, in the convenience store, and outside Lucinda's Lair. He's known it was me then all this time. Somehow, though it isn't a huge revelation, I'm shocked into silence, as I stare up at him through my hazel eyes.

"Fine, if it bugs you that much, you can pay me back by shipping fee." He nods his head towards the plastic bag in my hand. "My bag's too heavy. I don't want to have to lug that bottle all the way to the campgrounds. Just keep the repellant in your bag, and I'll come to get some whenever I want to use it."

He raises his hand, "I'm leaving now," and strides out of the room before I can refute.

I bite my bottom lip, wincing in frustration. So much for my plan to avoid him as much as possible at camp in order to prevent unwanted attention. Instead, I'll be having the most notorious male Perfect make house calls whenever he wants a spray of mosquito repellant.

"Good going, Juliette," I mutter to myself as I make my way out of the classroom, towards the cafeteria.

***

As I cross the Line today, it's almost like I'm invisible. I'm coming in late, so everyone is already too engrossed in their eating and conversation, and don't seem to notice me.

Never was being invisible such a joy to me. As a kid, I hated being ignored or left behind. But as I grew up and learnt the cruel ways of the world, what used to be my biggest fear became a survival tactic.

I fetch my food from the food station, and even the lunch lady shovels my food without the look of contempt she's been giving me the past few days, or any eye contact at all. I'd say that's a good sign. People are finally getting used to the presence of a Perfect in the Regular cafeteria during lunchtime, and it feels like the status quo has been reestablished again.

I walk past Athena and Colette, who pretend they don't know or see me, as usual. I don't bet on that changing anytime soon, which I've come to accept. I can't have my cake and eat it all. There will always be certain people who want to shove my face straight into the cream. If I avoid them long enough, hopefully their hatred for me will slowly dissipate, to the point of begrudging tolerance. That'd be enough for me. After what I did - completely cutting off all communication with them for two years without so much of a warning or explanation - I'd be pissed at me if I was in their position too.

Even without turning I can feel the lasers of blue piercing through me from a table not too far away. Alex watches me silently as I make my way to my regular table by the window. I can always sense him watching me coldly from his table of swimmers across the cafeteria. He just stares, for minutes at length. He knows I don't dare to raise my head and counter his stare, because I can't bear looking him in the eye.

I pick up my fork, about to start eating, when I realize that the cafeteria has gone into silence. My hand freezes midair, as I raise my head with dread rising in my stomach. The sight before me causes me to drop the fork onto the table with a clank.

A tall, broad-shouldered boy stands at the fringe of the Line, facing the Regular cafeteria and the faces of shock and anticipation held by students on this side. He wears a blazer of dark blue.

Normally, I would have expected it to be another Perfect crossing the Line to pick a victim to devour. However, it seems that this predator is pescetarian, because in his hands, he holds a white tray with what I recognize to be salmon steak, the sort of dish you would only see at gourmet restaurants.

Perfects scouting for victims never come over with food, because the process is usually quick and they return immediately to the cafe with their victim, with no intention of staying in this dingy place for any longer than they have to, much less actually consuming their food in a place 'ridden with Imperfects'.

But this boy holds a tray of food in his hands, scanning the cafeteria as if looking for someone. His light eyes skim over all the faces of students, until they land on me.

A knot of fear forms in my stomach. No. There's no way. Whatever it is, let it be anything but that. No way in hell can this actually happen, in front of the watching eyes of every third-year student in Trinity Institution; in front of Perfects, Borders, Normals and Invalids alike; in front of Kera, in front of Athena and Colette... in front of Alex.

Sterling stares at me across the cafeteria with the white tray in his hands, and grins.

Crap.