The Holders - By Julianna Scott Page 0,35

and how well Ryland was doing, and assuring her that everything was great. Luckily, she didn’t specifically ask how I was doing, nor did she bring up the subject of Jocelyn, for which I was immensely grateful. I would have hated to lie to her anymore than we already had, but honestly I had no idea how I was feeling about everything, and as far as Jocelyn was concerned, it was better she not know what had actually happened. Much as I had always wanted my mom to see Jocelyn for what he was, I couldn’t bring myself to hurt her with the truth. She and Ry may have both been under a delusion, but it made them happy, which was good enough for me.

Once Mom was reassured and all her questions answered, I hung up, got ready, and then slipped on my shoes to go over to Chloe’s room. However, as I reached the door I hesitated, my protective instincts rearing up. I hadn’t heard a word from Ryland since leaving his room that morning, and I was anxious to find out if he was still doing all right. Wasn’t that why I was here, to make sure he was OK? What if he needed me?

What if he didn’t…?

Ignoring that last echo of a thought I went back to the phone, grabbed the card Alex had given me with his information on it, and dialed the number to his room.

“Hello?”

“Hi Ry.” At least he was there.

“Oh, hey Becca.”

“So how was your day? Did you have fun with the other kids?”

“Yeah, it was fun. Everybody’s great here!”

“Good, I’m glad.” Really, I was. Glad. “So, I was thinking I’d come take you to your first class tomorrow.”

“Oh… um, sure…”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s just… I am supposed to meet some of the guys so we could walk together. A lot of us have the same classes, and…”

…and you don’t want to look like the baby who had to bring his sister along to hold your hand. “Oh, yeah sure, that’s fine.” It really was. Fine. “I just wanted to make sure you knew where you were going.”

“Yep, I’m good!”

“Good.”

“I’ve got to go up and eat now, but I can come see you tomorrow after classes if you want.”

If you want? Great. A pity visit. Fantastic. “Sure, sounds good.”

“OK, I’ll see you then! Love you! Bye!”

“Love you t–” click

Bye…

Less than an hour later I was sitting cross-legged on Chloe’s fluffy pink comforter, eating the last slice of pizza, while she sat behind me playing with my hair.

“I’d kill for hair like yours,” she gushed, running her fingers through the curls she’d just let tumble off the barrel of the hot iron.

“No you wouldn’t,” I mumbled over the last mouthful of pizza, “Trust me, it sucks.”

“How can you say that? It’s gorgeous!”

“Oh, I agree, it’s spectacular – when someone takes the time to do it. Otherwise it’s a humongous pain in the ass. Most of the time it’s in a ponytail or a frizzy bun.”

“Aw,” she said, stroking my mane like a cat, “it just needs some attention.”

“Tell you what, chop it off, and we’ll make you a wig.”

“Don’t you dare!” she gasped.

“Where did you learn to do hair?”

“Oh, I don’t know, playing with my dolls, I guess. But I’ve always wanted a real person to practice on,” she giggled, giving my hair a playful tug.

“You’ve never made-up your friends?”

“No, you’re the first actual human head I’ve done. To be honest, I’ve never had many girlfriends.”

“You’re kidding!” I was shocked. “I would have figured you to be one of the most popular girls on campus.”

She laughed. “No, not me. There was one other young female Holder who went through school with me, but she didn’t care for my company. She didn’t like being a Holder; thought it made her a freak. I, of course, was thrilled about it, so she and I didn’t really get on.”

“But what about the girls who aren’t Holders? Didn’t you get to know them?”

“I tried for a while, but when you have to keep so much about yourself a secret, it’s hard to get close to anyone. Probably sounds odd, but I was happier to keep to myself.”

“That doesn’t sound strange at all,” I said, glancing down as I rolled the hem of my shirt between my fingers. “Actually, I know exactly how you feel. I’ve never really had any friends either.”

“How can that be?”

“I was advanced,” I said, the last word tasting sour on my tongue. “I didn’t move

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