Genesis Girl (Blank Slate #1) - Jennifer Bardsley Page 0,52
you know about that?”
“What?”
Seth points to the text floating in the air. I turn away, not reading it, although the headline is already seared in my mind.
“I don’t know anything about that,” I say. “I don’t know if Barbelo lives in Nevada or not.”
I can’t get out of there fast enough.
Chapter Thirteen
When I was growing up at Tabula Rasa, every last minute of my day was orchestrated for me. I’d wake up in my cloistered dorm and wait in the long lines to brush my teeth. All of us girls would spy on each other in the mirrors, trying to see whose teeth were becoming crooked. They’d let you get braces, but it was better if you had naturally straight teeth.
Then we’d eat some gluten-free porridge for breakfast with a hardboiled egg. The kids who complained or were noncompliant were kicked out faster than you could say, “Please sir, can I have some more?”
Classwork was always my favorite part. Grammar, rhetoric, logic, music—I soaked up learning but was never showy about it. I understood early on that it was better to lie low.
I also learned not to get too attached to anyone.
I had this one friend named Amy all the way until I was ten years old. One day we were whispering goodnight to each other across our bunks, and the next morning, Amy was gone.
I held back the tears for weeks.
Amy was sent home for an online transgression. Her mom posted a baby picture of her along with a message that said “Happy birthday to my ten-year-old at Tabula Rasa!” Who knows why the lady was so stupid. Maybe she wanted her little girl home.
The point is, I didn’t bother becoming close friends with anyone for a long time, until one day when I was thirteen and some of my hair fell out.
It was right before bedtime, and Fatima and I were the only two left in the bathroom, brushing our teeth. I leaned over the sink to spit when I noticed a chunk of brown hair had fallen into the basin.
“Shoot!” I whispered hoarsely. “Shoot! Shoot! Shoot!”
“What’s the matter?” Fatima’s words were garbled by her toothbrush. Even at thirteen, she filled her black nightshirt in a way that would have made the boys go nuts if they could have seen.
“My hair!” I cried. “Look at my hair!”
Fatima came over and examined my head closely. “You can’t see the bald spot yet, not if your hair is brushed back. But this isn’t good.”
She didn’t need to say that last part for me to know the truth. If I lost my hair, I’d lose my looks. If I lost my looks, I’d be sent home. Nobody wants to go home to parents who didn’t want you in the first place.
“Lights out in two minutes!” Ms. Corina called from down the hall.
Placid, Fatima mouthed at me. Don’t let her know.
“Girls?” Ms. Corina asked, coming into the bathroom. “Why aren’t you in bed?” Right as she approached us, Fatima slid over. She walled off the sink so my hair in the basin wouldn’t show.
“‘Special attention to oral hygiene is a must,’” Fatima quoted.
“Of course,” Ms. Corina said, squinting at us. “But it’s bedtime now, so get a move on.”
“Yes, Ms. Corina,” we both answered at once.
Later on, when we were walking down the hallway to our dormitory, I started to cry. “What am I going to do?” I whispered, more to myself than Fatima. Fatima had never paid any attention to me before that night. But she stunned me.
“Don’t worry,” she told me. “We’ll figure it out.”
I don’t know why she decided to help me. Maybe it was because Fatima was always looking for an excuse to break the rules. She was a rebel, but she also has a big heart.
A couple of days later, I was headed toward Latin class with my hair carefully pulled back in a ponytail so the bald patches wouldn’t show. Fatima came out of nowhere and grabbed my arm, pulling me into a supply closet.
“Here.” She shoved a bottle of pills into my hand. “Iron tablets, for anemia.”
“Where did you get these? What are you talking about?”
“Anemia.” Fatima flipped back her own dark tresses. “I asked around, and it’s really common here because we don’t eat red meat. Have you felt faint?”
I nodded.
“Dizzy?”
“Yes,” I said. “That too. But how do you know for sure? I can’t take random pills somebody gives me.”