Separate

Chapter 6 - The Cedar Tree

The following four boys I never learned the name of, but they all looked practically identical to him. They all had their hair combed back and gelled, their stature was tall and broad, and they all towered over us.

The final boy to arrive was the one called Fetcher, which I eventually figured out after various points and prods from Grace whenever he would approach us. He was about average height, but his hair stood out from the rest with a sandy blonde color compared to the dark brown the others had. His eyes were a dark blue that almost seemed surreal and his tie was a bright turquoise, my favorite color.

He smiled and winked in my direction and gave his hair a little tweak with his hand. He didn't gel his hair like the others did, but rather let it flow naturally from his head. The dance began and Fetcher immediately approached me before I could escape back over to the punch bar.

"I love what you did with the hair." He complimented, glancing over my getup. "You look extra beautiful today."

I could feel my cheeks were getting red with embarrassment, so I quickly brushed past him and ran over to the punch bar. I didn't want to fall for him.

"Hey, I'm sorry. Can we start over? I think we never got on the right footing here." He leaned onto the table as I attempted to reach for another breadstick, blocking my way. I couldn't help myself, and I didn't want to do this with him, so I was honest with him. In hindsight, I was probably too honest.

"You know the bonding ceremonies are randomly selected, so go dance with someone else." I objected, pushing him out of the way to gain access to the breadsticks. He didn't really know what to say to this, but I think I just egged him on more.

"Oh, so now we're playing hard to get. I see. That's cute. I like that a lot." He nodded, gesturing for me to join him in a dance. I sighed, glancing over towards where Grace and Julia stood. They were both looking at me, and I knew what I acted on tonight would eventually pass down to my father. I had no choice, so I grabbed his hand and joined him for the dance.

Somehow even after five years of attending the dances I avoided ever participating in the actual dance itself. I was as awkward as you could possibly get. I stepped on his toes, my toes, everyone else's toes. I tripped probably like ten times and fell like seven of those times. I was a wreck, but it helped me distract myself from having to look at his face, and those eyes of his.

I glanced around at my other friends. Julia was with Thompson, nestling her face into his chest and swaying back and forth in place with him. Grace was dancing with one of the other boys. Grace, being one of the shortest girls in our grade, had to crane her neck up to even look at the boy's chin. Of course, she picked the tallest one too. I turned to look at McKenzie, who had resorted to the safety of the punch bar. She was watching me intently, analyzing my horrific dancing. She would cover her face to pretend she was eating something, but I could tell she was laughing at me.

The dance seemed to drag on forever that night, but suddenly and without warning, Fetcher stopped in his tracks and glanced at the doorway for the exit.

"What is it?" I asked, curious as to what the problem was.

"The guard left. Quickly, come with me," he whispered in my ear. He began to guide me towards the exit by tugging at my hand. I didn't know what this was about, but I was happy to finally leave that room for a moment. He guided me to the elevator and directed it to bring us to the top level of Prime District. He didn't say a word as we went up. All I heard was the tapping of his foot out of nervousness. The bell rang and the doors slid open to reveal a foreign object I had never seen before in my life.

There in the middle of a dimly lit room sat a wrangled and mutilated mess of branches and sticks that protruded out of the ground. It was like nothing I'd ever seen before, and I reached out to touch it. It felt rough and bumpy. I pulled my hand away to see a black soot had covered it. My father wouldn't be happy with me that night.