Defect - By Ryann Kerekes Page 0,46

could count on, you know?” He doesn’t respond. ”But now, I’m starting to question it, too,” I whisper.

He looks over at me. He doesn’t take a quick glance and turn back to the woods like I expect. He just continues watching me. I grow uneasy under his gaze and shift on the log. Something in the woods makes a sound, drawing his attention away from me.

“Sometimes I want to be different,” he says. “To be … stronger.”

“You’re the strongest person here.” Now I’m the one staring at him, trying to understand what he means.

“No, I don’t mean physical strength. I mean thinking for myself, doing what I want instead of what they tell me.”

My stomach clenches as his low voice washes over me. I feel the same way, even though I’m afraid to admit it. I need to be a soldier. There’s no time to feel anything else, but I want what he does – to be strong enough to have both. Strong enough to compete here yet brave enough to be soft and vulnerable, too. My mother’s words come back to me then, as if whispered from the moon. They can only take what you give them.

Will picks up a twig from the ground and twirls it between his fingers. “I thought I turned off all the feeling in me a long time ago. But seeing what they did to you …” He doesn’t finish.

I swallow and press my hands together. I’m speechless, unsure what to do, what to say, what to even think.

Will looks down, suddenly uncertain. I’m not sure if it’s because I want to be strong like he does, but I slide over just a fraction toward him. “You can come closer.” He lifts one arm, and without thinking, I slide under it, letting him pull me snugly to his side.

I lean my head against his chest and feel it rise and fall as he breathes, his heart keeping beat with mine. It’s hard not to notice that I fit perfectly in the crook of his arm, my head nestled under his chin. His body heat instantly warms me up.

I fold my hands in my lap and run my finger along the chip – ever present, always reminding me of my fate, even when good things are happening. “I know we have the chips and all that, but how come they do this test outside the fence?”

“We’re not really outside the fence.” I look at him trying to figure out what he means. “The whole city is fenced,” he says.

I nod. “Yeah, I mean that goes without saying.” I guess I just take for granted that towns and cities throughout the country are fenced in to protect us from the Radicals. I’ve never given it much thought, but now I find myself wondering why people would have fled during the Medical Revolution rather than get a mindscan. And though it isn’t common, occasionally there are news stories about fifteen-year-olds escaping over the fence. It shocks me how little I know. Growing up, I was never the least bit curious about life on the other side of the fence, where life amongst the Radicals was surely rampant with crime. But now, after my freedoms have been stripped away, nothing intrigues me more. “Will?”

“Yeah?” His face is so close to mine, I can feel his warm breath on my cheek.

“What’s beyond the fence?”

He stiffens and pulls back from me just slightly. His eyes are serious and scan mine. I hope I haven’t said something wrong. “Shh. Get some rest.”

I let my eyes close, too tired to argue and drift asleep against him.

***

A little while later, Will is shaking my shoulder, waking me up. “Eve,” he whispers. His breath escapes in a puff against the chilly night air.

I sit up and look at him.

“I’ve got to get going.”

“Okay. Thanks for finding me tonight.” I can’t imagine I would have gotten any rest if he hadn’t.

“I, um, need my jacket back.”

Oh. I look down and realize I’m wearing it like a blanket; it’s so big on me.

“I would let you keep it, but I just don’t think it’ll be good if you get back in the morning wearing it.”

“Oh, yeah, of course. Here.” I hand it to him. “Got any advice for getting out of here?” I ask as he shrugs into it.

“You’re going the right way, and you’re not far now.” He takes one last, long look at me and turns to leave. I watch him go, realizing he