“Xander, why didn’t you—you know—kiss me the other night?” I ask suddenly, since the Official isn’t listening right at this moment. I should be embarrassed, but I’m not. I want to know.
“There were too many people watching.” Xander sounds surprised. “I know the Officials don’t care, since we’re Matched, but, you know.” He inclines his head slightly toward the Official next to us. “It’s not the same when you’re being watched.”
“How could you tel ?”
“Haven’t you noticed al the Officials on our street lately?”
“Watching my house?”
Xander raises his eyebrows. “Why would they be watching your house?”
Because I read things I shouldn’t read and learn things I’m not meant to know and I might be falling in love with someone else. What I say is, “My father ...” I let my voice trail off.
Xander flushes. “Of course. I should have realized . . . It’s not that, at least I don’t think so. These are basic-level Officials, police officers. They’ve been patrol ing a lot more lately and not just in our Borough. In al the Boroughs.”
Our street was ful of Officials that night and I didn’t even know. Ky must have known. Maybe that’s why he wouldn’t come up the porch steps.
Maybe that’s why he never touches me. He’s afraid of being caught.
Or maybe it’s even more simple than that. Maybe he never wants to touch me. Perhaps to Ky I am only a friend. A friend who final y wants to know his story, nothing more.
And at first that’s who I was. I wanted to know more about this boy who lives among us, but who never truly speaks. More about what happened before. I wanted to know more about my mistaken Match. But now I feel like finding out about him is one of the ways I find out about myself. I did not expect to love his words. I did not expect to find myself in them.
Is fal ing in love with someone’s story the same thing as fal ing in love with the person himself?
Another air car sits on our street, this time in front of Em’s house. “What’s going on?�� I ask Xander, whose eyes widen with fear. The Official with us looks interested but not surprised. I resist the urge to grab his shirtfront tight, wrinkling it in my hands. I hold back from hissing, “Why do you watch us? What do you know?”
The door to Em’s house opens and three Officials come out. Our Official turns to Xander and me and says, almost abruptly, “I hope you both had an enjoyable evening. I’l file the report with the Matching Committee first thing tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” I say automatical y as he turns back to the air-train stop, although I don’t know why. I don’t feel grateful.
The Officials at Em’s house walk across her yard and go to the house next door. They hold a container, something Society-issued, and they’re not smiling. In fact, if I had to say how they looked, I would say they looked sad. I don’t like it. “Should we go see if Em is al right?” I ask, and as I do, she opens her front door and looks out. She sees Xander and me and hurries across the yard to meet us.
“Cassia, it’s al my fault. It’s al my fault!” Em’s voice shakes, and tears mark her face.
“What’s your fault, Em? What happened?” I glance next door to make sure the Officials aren’t watching us, but they’ve already disappeared inside. Em’s neighbors opened the door before the Officials had to knock, as though they were expected.
“What’s this about?” Xander’s voice sounds harsh and I send him a look, trying to tel him to be patient.
Em’s face grows even paler and she grabs my arm. Her voice is hushed. “The Officials are col ecting al the artifacts.”
“What?”
Em’s lips tremble. “They said that I’d been seen with an artifact at the Match Banquet, and they’d come to col ect it. I told them it wasn’t mine, I’d borrowed it from you and given it back.” She swal ows and I remember the night of the green tablet. I put my arm around her and glance at Xander.
Em keeps speaking, her voice shaky. “I shouldn’t have told them. But I was so scared! Now they’re going to take it from you. They’re going house to house.”
House to house. They’l be at mine soon. I want to comfort Em, but I have to try to save my artifact, futile as the effort might be. I have to go home.
I give Em a hug. “Em, it’s not your fault. Even if you hadn’t told them, they knew I had an artifact. It’s registered, and I took it to my Banquet.”
Then I remember something, and fear washes over me. Ky’s artifact. I stil have it tucked away in my closet. The Officials might know about my artifact, but they don’t know about Ky’s. It could get us both in trouble.
How can I hide it?
“I have to go home,” I say, out loud this time. I pul my arm away from Em’s shoulders and turn toward my house. How long do I have before the Officials get there? Five minutes? Ten?
Em starts crying harder, but I don’t have time to reassure her again. I walk as quickly as I can without drawing attention. A few steps later and Xander is next to me, linking his arm in mine as if we have been on a normal outing and are on our way home.
“Cassia,” he says. I don’t look at him. I can’t stop thinking about al that could be lost in a few short moments. Ky is already an Aberration. If they find out that he has an artifact, wil he become an Anomaly?
I could cover up for him. I could say that it’s mine and I found it when we hiked in the woods. Would they believe me?
“Cassia,” Xander says again. “I can hide it for you. Say you’ve lost it. Make your story convincing.”
“I can’t let you do that for me.”
“You can. I’l wait for you outside while you grab the compact. It’s smal enough to fit in your hand, right?” I nod. “When you come back out, act like you’re crazy about me, like you hate saying good-bye. Throw your arms around me. Drop it down my shirt. I’l take care of it after that.”
I’ve never seen this side of Xander before, I think, and then I instantly realize that I have. When he plays the games he’s like this. Cool and calm and ful of strategy and daring. And in the games at least, his risks almost always pay off.
“Xander, this isn’t a game.”
“I know that.” His face looks grim. “I’l be careful.”
“Are you sure?” I shouldn’t let him do this. It’s weak to consider it. But stil : He can take my compact for me. He would save it for me. He would risk this for me.
“I’m sure.”
Once I close the front door behind me, I run down the hal to my room as fast as I can. No one from my family sees me, for which I’m grateful. With shaking hands I tear open my closet door and push the sets of plainclothes along the rack until I find the pair where I’ve hidden Ky’s artifact inside the pocket. I open the brown paper envelope and tip it so that the arrow in its case slides out. I shove the envelope into my pocket; I grab the compact from the shelf and look at the two items in my hands.
Golden and beautiful. In spite of myself, I’m tempted to give Xander my compact instead of Ky’s spinning arrow, but I put the compact onto my bed and close my hand over Ky’s artifact. Saving my compact would be selfish. It would only save a thing. But saving Ky’s artifact saves both of us from questioning and him from becoming an Anomaly. And how can I let them take the last piece of his old life?
This is safer for Xander, too. They don’t know Ky’s artifact exists, so hopeful y they won’t miss it. My compact wil be accounted for and taken away, as expected, so they won’t look for it or wonder if I’ve given it to someone else.
I run back down the hal and open the front door.
“Xander, wait!” I cal out to him, trying to make my voice light. “Aren’t you going to kiss me good night?”
Xander turns, his face open and natural. I don’t think anyone else could see the glint of cunning in his eyes, but I know him so wel .
I skip down the steps and he holds out his arms to me. We embrace, his hands at the smal of my back and my arms around his neck. I place my hand just under the col ar of his plainclothes and open my fingers. The artifact slides down his back and my palm lies flat against his warm skin. We look each other straight in the eyes for a moment and then I lean close to his ear.
“Don’t open it,” I whisper to Xander. “Don’t keep it in your house. Bury it or hide it somewhere. It’s not what you think.”
Xander nods.