Gods Under The Dome

1.2

《Testing Day》

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Once the guards are satisfied we are safely secured, they escort us from the Testing Room and back toward our cells. It's when we're in the hallways, passing corridor after corridor of stark white walls and Facility employees outfitted with Network headsets, that we talk with one another, though as in the testing room, we find time to chat regardless.

"How do you think you did?" Rima asks, nudging her brother in his side.

He frowns over his shoulder. "I was sweating bullets back there, Ri-ri. Don't think it was because the air-cooling system was on the fritz, either."

Rima quickens her pace so she can catch up with him and rests her head briefly on his shoulder. "It'll be okay, Jo-Jo," she says, smiling.

He shrugs, though his cheeks turn as red as Marava's nails. "How about you?"

Rima chews on her bottom lip. "I feel pretty good about the multiple-choice." She grimaces. "But I'm never sure about the essay. Always feel I could have written more."

Tujo gapes. "Didn't you write like seven pages for the last test?"

Rima nods sheepishly, her interest suddenly geared toward a particularly unremarkable piece of white tile flooring.

Tujo sighs. "And you think you don't write enough." He rolls his eyes, and the corners of his lips pull upwards. "What am I going to do with you?"

The same blush creeps onto Rima's cheeks.

"And what about you?" Nol says, addressing me. "How'd Shakespeare do for you this time?"

"To pass or not to pass," I say with a shrug. "That is the question. Only time will tell."

He slows so he can match my pace, and suddenly, the scent of his soap - rainwater and fresh pine - floods my senses. All the boys smell this way, just as all us girls smell like honey and clove, but it's only Nol's smell that lodges some kind of discomfort in my chest.

"Think Marava got another 100?" His breath tickles my face, coaxes a few of my curls to flutter in front of my eyes. For a second, Nol is concealed behind a thick, black curtain. I can't very well move my hand without the guard giving me a shock, so I have to shake my head to get my curls out of my eyes. Nol chuckles as he watches me.

"If the kitty wants to keep her claws, she'll have to have," I say.

Nol arcs a brow. His blue-green eyes come alive, like gemstones catching the light. "You think she really sucks dick for some cheap plastics?"

I scowl. "Why? You interested?"

He smirks. "You jealous?"

I gulp and nudge his shoulder. He breaks out into a full-blown grin, one that favors the left side of his face more than his right. It's adolescent and awkward, and I find myself mimicking that smile because it's just so damned infectious. "I mean, if she'll do that for some nails, think of what she'd do for some Monday Blues..."

"Or Thursday Ghost Whites," I add.

Nol's forehead wrinkles. "You think she'd do more than a little dick sucking for Thursday Ghost Whites?" He shakes his head. "Maybe a shaker, but nothing more. They're minor antidepressants. Nothing special." His eyes spark to life again, blue and green intertwining, dancing, sky and forest meeting. He loved talking about prescripts, knew all their real names and the proper dosages, how to dismantle them into their singular components and combine them into something new. He wasn't allowed to mess with our pills, but there was nothing in Facility protocol preventing him from chewing your ear off about their effects and side-effects. "Now the good stuff, that's the Monday Blues. They can rival the high you get on Surge, without all the withdrawal symptoms and crippling addiction." After a moment of thought, he leans in. "Hell, I'd do a little dick sucking of my own to get my hands on a stash."