Arisen Read online

  I loved Melanie, and despite my best efforts Liam, but if I could go back and choose differently, I’d leave with Luna in a heartbeat. I’d never understood that voice inside my head that willed me to stay.

  Melanie and I walked to and from school, even though it was a twenty-minute walk on our fastest days. It woke us up in the morning and served as a soothing mental break in the afternoon.

  “Are you excited for history?” Melanie asked.

  We laughed. History class was a joke we shared. After soaking up the lies the high school curriculum taught us, Melanie, the former Outsider, would explain what really happened on the walk home. Right now we were learning about the years leading up to the formation of Oportet.

  “Do you think Mr. Brown knows what really happened, or do you think he believes what he’s teaching is the truth?” I asked. I almost wished it was the latter because at least then Mr. Brown wouldn’t be knowingly brainwashing an entire generation of Oportet’s youth.

  “I don’t know,” Melanie said, cocking her head. “Don’t get any ideas, Megan.”

  I smiled. She knew me too well.

  We entered the school and parted ways, Melanie to English and I to history. Walking through the hallway alone was like facing the judgment of a thousand eyes and mouths all at once.

  I was used to the staring. The reasons for the interest varied: I was the girl whose family was murdered, or I was the girl who used to be somebody but now lived with Outsider nobodies. A select few stared because I was the leader of a secret society, but their eyes were different—filled with admiration. Others because they’ve heard whispers of things I’ve said and done, or maybe what my sister was rumored to have said and done.

  Liam stood with a group of his preppy well-to-do friends, his back against a locker. He watched me as I approached, but he made no effort to break away from the group or even acknowledge my existence. I was used to his behavior, but it stung nonetheless.

  All he gave me was a head nod before I disappeared through the classroom door. Leave it to Liam to turn my mood sour in a fraction of a second.

  I sat in the back of the room, waiting for the intercom to come on for the morning announcements. Students were supposed to be late when the announcements started, but people like Liam got away with walking in just as Oportet’s pledge of allegiance began.

  He found a place in the front of the classroom, next to a couple of girls who looked more than happy to spend a class period sitting so close to him. Liam whispered something to the girls, who in turn giggled and whispered back.

  Class began. Mr. Brown pulled up his presentation on the smart screen in the front of the room, and Liam not-so-subtly glanced my way.

  This was the game we played. I wasn’t important enough to pull him away from his friends, yet he made a show of flirting with other girls and watching for my reaction. He looked back at me again, and this time I gave him an exaggerated smile and wave. Liam frowned and turned back to the girls.

  This was going to be a long day.

  “Today is the start of a new unit. We’re going to be diving deep into the twenties and thirties of our once great nation, the United States of America,” Mr. Brown started, passing handouts down the aisles of desks. “Who can tell me what the period before The Fall of ’39 is referred to as?”

  “The Age of Terrorism,” Liam said without taking his eyes off the bubbly brunette in front of him.

  “And before that?”

  “The Years of Peace,” Liam fired back.

  “Very good Mr. O’Neill. Eyes up here please. Face forward.”

  The class erupted in laughter, and Liam offered up his trademark smile—the smile that made hearts melt and rainbows spring from the ground. Kill me now.

  Mr. Brown cast a dark warning look at Liam. I’d bet Liam rarely received that look from adults. I liked Mr. Brown more and more as the school year came to a close.

  “The Years of Peace lasted from roughly 2000 to 2028. America still had troops overseas, suffered a few terrible natural disasters and minor acts of rebellion, but our country was relatively stable. We had a near-perfect government that did the best for its people, and we experienced minimal internal troubles. Poverty was almost unheard of and everyone had more than enough to eat,” Mr. Brown explained. “Then came a new generation of young people who made it their mission to destroy the era of peace that America had finally achieved. Thus began the Age of Terrorism.”

  “What set them off?” I asked. “People don’t just take down a government for no reason.”

  Mr. Brown scowled, annoyed at my speaking without being called on—and probably because he didn’t like what I said. “This generation was extremely narcissistic, often referred to as Generation Me. They were ungrateful and resented anyone telling them what to do. It was the generation of terrorists—those who sought to drive fear and hatred into the hearts of the American people.

  “If you need an event, I can only point to the election of President Terrence Stone in 2028. He was America’s single greatest leader in all of history. He was a renowned businessman. Under him, the economy flourished, as did foreign relations. When the War on America began, he did his best to squash the domestic terrorists, but it was already too late. The violence had begun, and rebels started targeting innocent citizens,” Mr. Brown said. He showed a slide of burning buildings, then of people dressed in all black. It was similar to the picture Lancaster showed at assemblies.

  Shouts erupted all around me.

  “Terrorists!”

  “Murderers!”

  “Kill them all!”

  “Long live Oportet! Long live Lancaster! Long live order!”

  It was the reaction we had all been trained to respond with, and instead of the usual buzz of energy I felt at assemblies, I just felt cold and disillusioned.

  Liam met my eyes, and it seemed like we were the only two in the room who weren’t screaming hate at the screen. Liam’s friends had joined in, more fervent than any other students in the room.

  Mr. Brown just stood there in the front of the class, his perplexed eyes showing a hint of fear hiding beneath.

  “It was crazy,” I said. “Mr. Brown couldn’t get them to calm down. Some of the girls had to go to the counselor’s office because they couldn’t stop crying.”

  Melanie and I were sitting under a tree, the farthest from the outdoor lunch tables we could get without leaving school grounds. The grass tickled my bare skin, the strong wind sweeping my fiery red hair behind my shoulders.

  “Because of all the screaming?” Melanie asked.

  “No. They were hysterical because of the image of the activists. They kept screaming about how the rebel Outsiders were going to kill us all.” I swallowed.

  “I’m so sorry, Megan,” she said. “That must have been hard for you.”

  I shook my head. “The opposite, actually. Almost wanted to make some popcorn, you know?”

  Melanie smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. I stared down at my limp salad with mild disgust. My appetite had pulled a disappearing act.

  “Let’s go,” I said. “I’m bored.”

  “Yeah okay. I’m not hungry either.” Melanie pushed up from the ground. “I have history next,” she said softly, her eyes wide with panic.

  “Well, I don’t think Mr. Brown will be showing that slide again,” I assured her. “I’m just disappointed we didn’t get to any of the material before the collective spaz attack happened. I was looking forward to it.” I winked.

  “You really do like to stir up trouble, don’t you?”

  We approached the outdoor lunch tables to see Liam leaned back in a chair, his arm around the brunette from first block. He looked up as we passed.

  “You deserve better,” Melanie muttered. “I’m sorry again for breaking the pact.”

  “It’s fine. It doesn’t matter,” I said, pushing through the glass door to reenter the school building.

  “It does matter,” she insisted. “Momentary lapse in judgment
. My asshole detector suffered a glitch.”

  I laughed, cursing myself for letting Liam get under my skin yet again. Everything had been going perfectly: We didn’t talk at school, we were civil at meetings, and I never let myself be alone with him. This strategy worked. It was foolproof. Until it wasn’t.

  The problem was that it didn’t matter what measures I took or how careful I was, he owned pieces of me—the little bits of my soul that he took and wouldn’t return.

  6

  Luna

  “That was a lot to take in,” I said as Ash led me out of Synchronicities Bookstore.

  “I thought you’d be a tad more excited about the infamous Rise Up uniting to take down your mortal enemies,” Ash said.

  “Why did we have to leave early?” We crossed the street, the smell of essential oils disappearing into the night air.

  “Just procedure. You aren’t an official member yet,” he said.

  I slipped into the passenger seat. “And you are?”

  “Yes ma’am. I’ve earned my official bumper sticker and refrigerator magnet,” Ash said. He pulled out, this time headed for home.

  “Does that mean you know more about their plan?”

  Ash smirked. “Indeed it does.”

  “Well? What is it?”

  “You’ll know in time. Patience is key.” Humor seeped into his voice, making me cross my arms and stare out the window in frustration. Ash tilted his head back in laughter. “You have more petulance than a four year-old child. I can hardly take you seriously.”

  “But really, Ash. If they want me to help them, shouldn’t I have all of their information first?”

  “No offense, love, but this group is fully capable of carrying out the mission with or without your help. If you want to be a part of this, you’ll need to put your trust in something bigger than yourself.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he raised a finger. “And, yes, I understand that the last time you were told to do this, it was with a corrupt government. But these people aren’t your enemies. They’re like you, Luna. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? To be with people who see the world as you do?”

  My words were lost. I furrowed my brows, glancing over at Ash.

  That was all I had ever wanted. It was what led me to Jasper; it was what alienated me from my friends and family and drove me out of Oportet. I needed to be with people who saw and felt as I did, and I needed to be somewhere that allowed me to think for myself.

  Rise Up was nothing like Oportet’s council. They were a group of people fighting for what was right, not a group of people who were fighting for political power and dominion.

  “You’re right,” I said quietly.

  “Hard to admit, I’m sure.”

  “Hey, don’t push it,” I snapped.

  The apartment was dark and quiet when Ash and I arrived. Rehearsal had run late, I supposed. I wondered if it had anything to do with my new stubborn, purple-haired roommate.

  Stomach rumbling, I made my way to the kitchen. “Wait a minute,” I said, turning back to face Ash. “Why did you lie to Jasper?”

  Ash was already spread out on the couch, which also happened to be his bed. Drea had the second bedroom all to herself.

  “You said that we were going out to eat,” I continued. “Why not tell him the truth?”

  “Compulsive liar.” He shrugged.

  “Really?”

  “No.”

  I narrowed my eyes then turned to heat up leftover pasta in the microwave.

  “What a paradox we’ve created,” he said.

  “You’re impossible to talk to.” I would need to tell Jasper what really happened.

  When I had finished heating the pasta, I sat down in a chair across from him. I yawned, rubbing my tired eyes as I chewed. Sleep had made me its enemy ever since Jasper and I had settled in Portland.

  When Dr. Gary Reynolds, Jasper, and I escaped, Portland was our first stop. We stayed with some of Lilly’s friends until we could find Dr. Reynolds a permanent home, then took off travelling.

  We only hit places along the West Coast, but I got to see the ocean for the first time. When we got tired of wandering around so much, we moved back to Portland. Jasper formed a rock band, and I wrote a book. Our dreams we’d formed from within the confines of Oportet had become our reality.

  “I don’t sleep much either,” Ash said, watching me yawn for the third time in ten minutes. “Next time you can’t sleep, there’s a good chance I’ll be awake too… so instead of worrying about waking up Jasper, you could always just come find me.”

  Ash fiddled with the tassels of a blanket, looking up to meet my eyes. There was something almost…calculating about his expression.

  I hesitated. “Thanks,” I said slowly. “I always feel so guilty when I wake him up. I just need to hear a real voice, you know? It can be hours of just lying there, trapped in my own head. Without that bit of human contact, I could drive myself into hysterics.” I surprised myself opening up so easily.

  Ash nodded. “Trust me, I get it. I’ve had really bad insomnia since I was a kid, and it made me feel like such a burden. Our mum died, so it was just my dad, Drea, and I for a while. So whenever I couldn’t fall asleep, and it was four a.m. and the house was way too quiet, I would sometimes wake up my dad.

  “It drove him insane because he had to work the next day, and he felt like there was nothing he could do to make me feel better. He ended up just getting angry with me, which made things worse.” He paused. “I don’t think people get that just hearing a voice can make everything feel better,” Ash said.

  “Yes, exactly. It’s human nature to want to fix things—to fix people, but you can’t fix everything. Sometimes it just is what it is.” I sighed.

  I suddenly felt very uncomfortable. Our words hung between us, just suspended there without being swept up by time. The moment was far too real. I had never talked to anyone outside Oportet about personal things besides Jasper. Now I caught myself not only discussing them with Ash, of all people, but also talking to him about Jasper. It was weird.

  Ash broke the heavy silence. “So yeah, if you need to hear a voice and don’t want to wake up a normal sleeper…”

  Did he notice it too? The thickness of the air, the seconds that lasted hours. It was like we had crossed over into a different dimension, and it made me uncomfortable.

  I cleared my throat. “Okay, thanks.” I rushed the words out as fast as possible.

  That was when voices sounded from beyond the door, breaking the discomfort. I jumped up from the chair; blood rushed to my head, making me dizzy.

  Ash raised a single brow, a smile tugging on the corners of his lips.

  Jasper was laughing at something, still facing Drea when he entered. I could tell I caught him off guard when I wrapped my arms around him, his body tensing slightly before melting into my embrace.

  “Sorry I’m late,” he whispered said into my hair.

  “It’s okay. How was rehearsal?”

  “It was good.”

  I pulled away, but remained close.

  “We’re going out tomorrow, okay?” he said.

  “What a romantic way to ask a girl out, Jasper,” I said in a mock scolding tone. “But sure. Where are we going?”

  “Not telling,” he said. “It’s a surprise.”

  He lifted a hand to my face, then opened his mouth to speak only to be cut off by Drea.

  “No, I love you more,” she mocked. “No, I love you more.”

  “Someone sounds bitter,” Jasper muttered.

  “On the contrary, my dull, predictable, straight friends. I scored a phone number just this morning. She and I are going out tomorrow night.” Drea stuck out her tongue.

  “Looks like I should be the bitter one, doesn’t it, mate?” Ash asked from the couch. He was staring at me again.

  I slept last night. It was a long, dreamless sleep—something so rare that I almost woke the entire apartment to spread my excitement. I was thankful that I didn’t
even have to consider Ash’s offer from yesterday. It would’ve felt too strange, not unlike the talk we’d had just before Jasper got home. Or his incessant staring.

  I rolled over and crawled out of bed, leaving Jasper in the bed sleeping.

  My laptop was glaring at me from the desk. I had barely written anything since Escape from Oportet was published, and the all-consuming need to put words into a new project hung over my head.

  I crept over to the desk, careful not to disrupt the quiet of the apartment. I logged in and immediately opened a new document.

  Then I sat. An hour went by and the most I had done was plan my escape route if there were to be a break-in, fire, or zombie attack. Casting one last glance at the blinking curser that rested on a dismal, white page, I shut the laptop and left the bedroom.

  “Shut. The. Hell. Up.”

  Ah, lovely morning sounds from Drea. I followed the loud whispers until I reached the living room, also known as Ash’s makeshift bedroom.

  Still in their pajamas, hair messy, and blankets strewn across their bodies, Drea and Ash sat on the couch staring up at the TV screen. Cartoon cars and motorcycles were racing around some kind of track, dodging what appeared to be tortoise shells and bananas. The quality seemed outdated and fuzzy.

  Holding controllers that resembled steering wheels, the two siblings were muttering obscenities under their breath, some directed at each other and others directed towards the computer-generated players on the screen.

  “Seriously? How old did you guys say you were?” I asked, lowering my voice when I remembered Jasper was still sleeping.

  Drea threw me the finger over her shoulder, earning a snicker from Ash.

  “No way,” exclaimed a voice from behind me. A groggy Jasper stumbled into the living area. “Mario Kart! This is so retro.”