Before (The Sensitives) - By Dawn Rae Miller Page 0,22

“Maybe?”

If it weren’t Beck saying it, I’d find this line of conversation ridiculous. Our families are above reproach. We are above reproach. Even though his parents don’t work for the State at a high level, everyone knows the Channings are a fine family with a strong sense of duty.

Mr. Proctor, our Societies teacher, yanks the door open, exposing us to the classroom full of students.

“Do you two plan on joining us?” he asks. A few students giggle.

Embarrassed, I drop Beck’s hand and I hurry to my desk. Beck takes his seat next to mine.

“We’ve moved past the assessment,” Mr. Proctor says. “The two of you will have to make arrangements to test privately. Have Bethina call me.”

I hang my head and fight tears. Maybe it’s the stress of the day, but the one thing I wanted, really wanted, isn’t going to happen.

Aware that everyone’s watching me, I swallow the lump in my throat and dig through my bag until I find old-fashioned paper and a pen. One of the insufferable joys of this class: we have to write on paper, like they did hundreds of years ago. Even though I’m better at it now, taking notes by hand still makes mine cramp and ache. Beck, however, prefers writing—he even does it at home.

Kyra leans across the aisle toward me. “Are you okay?”

I sniff. “Yes. I’m sure they won’t hold us missing the assessment against us. It couldn’t be helped.”

“Lark, I’m talking about you. Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” Her eyes are full of concern.

Am I? I’m not panicked or scared anymore. And when Beck and I stood on the hill together, I felt focused and strong—just like the State’s training teaches us. Still, I’m upset. But at what? Annalise’s veiled accusations? My own lack of understanding of the situation? Or am I deso about missing the assessment?

“Everything is fine. The State is investigating.”

“Ping if you need anything?”

I nod and she goes back to scribbling on her paper. Like me, she hates writing. Unlike me, she’s never really learned to do it, so she always has to borrow my notes. Which means, she doesn’t pay attention.

At the front of the room, Mr. Proctor rambles about the Long Winter. Not even a security breach can save me from that. He seems to think that the easiest way to recover from a nerve-wracking attack is to bore us with history. I don’t see why we even continue to cover this subject. Everyone understands the “Order and History of Society.” Every year, it’s the same class with the same information. If you don’t know it by now, there’s really no hope.

Mr. Proctor’s voice fills my ears. “Ice and snow covered whole continents, destroying livable surface and resulting in a fifty-year war as people migrated. Over half of the world’s population vanished.”

I don’t need to pay attention, I have it memorized. How the Center, once known as Africa, is only a tenth of its former size; and there were more countries than I can even fathom, instead of our five great societies. How these societies would have destroyed one another if my ancestor, Caitlyn, hadn’t succeeded in aligning them under a common cause: to preserve humanity.

I follow along as Mr. Proctor taps the wall screen behind his desk, illuminating each society on a map.

Tap, flash. The West, where we live, shaded green and stretching from our northern cities of Ottawa and Calgary to the southern city of Austin, appears on the wall screen.

Another tap. The East, covering an area that used to be called Asia glows a soft blue.

Tap, Tap, Tap – the South, the Center and the Islands appear.

One more tap. The North – not a really a society anymore other than in name, just an ice covered land mass once known as Europe. Only a few hold-outs still live there.

Mr. Proctor superimposes an image of the world over the ancient map. “The world was vastly overpopulated and spread out before the Long Winter.”

I write the word “Sensitive” on one of the thin blue lines on my paper. Such an oxymoron. It implies a delicate state. But that’s exactly what they’re not. Determined to bring humanity under their control, they unleashed the Long Winter on us—their final act after a millennia of plagues, earthquakes and famine—and nearly decimated the world’s human population.

Luckily, the Founders discovered how to identify the chromosomal abnormality in Sensitives. Most are found during childhood and fitted with irremovable red wristlets that track their every move. Sensitive Enforcers find