Un•just•ville: n. the land ruled by my parents
I sat in stunned silence, convinced the house must’ve initiated security protocol when I came home, and these were the holographic versions of my parents, programmed to fool intruders. That’s how little sense what they said made. But they weren’t holograms. They were right in front of me, waiting for my reaction. Considering none of us had moved for what felt like five minutes, I was surprised we hadn’t been plunged into darkness. I didn’t know what my parents expected from me, but I was waiting for the world to realign on its axis and return my life to normal. Not used to surprises, I decided I didn’t like them very much.
My mom broke the silence with: “I know it’s a hard choice, Addie. And we fully expect you to use your ability to see which future looks more appealing. You don’t have to answer us now.”
“Can’t I be with both of you? Isn’t there like a fifty-fifty deal we can work out?”
“That would be okay, but your father’s decided to leave the Compound. He’s going into the Normal world.”
My stomach went from twisting uncomfortably to dropping straight to my feet. “You’re leaving, Dad?” Not many people left the Compound. No one I knew personally. So this news was almost as shocking as the divorce announcement.
My mom continued, “I don’t think you joining him there would be good for your develo—”
“Marissa, you promised you wouldn’t try to influence her one way or the other.”
“I’m sorry. It’s true. Addie, this decision is yours. Stay here with others like you, or leave the Compound and live in a world surrounded by people who use only ten percent of their brains.”
“Marissa.”
“Sorry,” she said again. This time they both laughed. I was glad they found this situation so amusing, considering my life had just ended. I stood abruptly, and they stopped laughing. My dad’s face crumpled into the pity look again, and I could tell he was about to apologize, but I didn’t want to hear it.
Without a word, I walked by them, straight to my room. I slapped my palm against the panel inside, causing the door to swish shut behind me. Angry music blasted from above, the computer obviously sensing my mood from the palm scan. “Off,” I said, and silence took over. I walked around the bookcase, placed my back against the side, planted my feet firmly on the ground, and pushed. When it didn’t budge, I slid to the floor and lowered my forehead to my knees.
There was no way I could make this decision. It would’ve been better had they just told me what needed to happen, left me no choice in the matter. Sure, I would’ve complained about that as well, but at least then I wouldn’t have been forced to pick between my parents.
I crawled to my backpack, grabbed my phone out of the front pocket, and called Laila.
“Hey,” she said. “I’m almost home. Did you forget something in my car?”
“Did I?”
“I don’t know. I just thought that’s why you were calling.”
“Oh. No, I didn’t.” I lay on my backpack, not moving when the pens and other lumpy items pressed into my cheek. The discomfort created a momentary distraction from more unpleasant feelings. Closing my eyes, I listened to the slight static of the phone line.
“What is it then?”
“My parents are getting a divorce.” For the first time since the announcement, my eyes stung and my throat tightened.
“Oh no. I’m so sorry. I’m coming back, okay?”
I couldn’t answer. I only nodded.
Ten minutes later there was a knock on my window. The window was how she snuck into my room in the middle of the night. She didn’t need to use it in that moment, but I was glad she did. I felt betrayed by my parents and didn’t think they deserved to know how much I needed my best friend.
I powered open the window and screen. Laila climbed like a pro over the struggling bush in the flower bed and into my room. She immediately threw her arms around me. “I’m so sorry,” she said again. “This sucks.”
“My dad’s moving away.” Against her shoulder, my voice came out muffled. “I have to pick.”
“What?” She brought me out to arm’s length. “He’s leaving the Compound? Why? Is he helping with containment?”
“I …” I had been too shocked to ask him what he’d do on the Outside. Most people only left the Compound to help in the process of keeping the Para-community a secret—investigating leaks, assessing damage, Erasing memories. But some left for high-powered positions, to help gather intelligence to send back to the Compound, keeping us informed on the world outside the walls. Only a few left because they wanted to integrate into the Normal world—essentially disappear. I had no idea which category my father fell into. “I don’t know.”
“But you might leave with him?”
I nodded.
“No. You can’t do that. You can’t leave. You’ll hate it out there. When’s the last time you’ve even had to deal with Norms?” she asked, putting one hand on her forehead and the other flying to her hip.
“I don’t really remember. Years.” I remembered perfectly. I was eight. We had to fill out tons of paperwork and take secrecy oaths. All for a weekend trip to Disneyland. It was crowded. Everything seemed so normal. All the rides were outdated, and the fireworks were nothing compared to a Perceptives light show. My parents argued the entire time.
“This is so unfair.” She led me over to the bed, and we both climbed on, leaning against the headboard. She kicked off her shoes and turned toward me. “So then you’re staying here, right? Otherwise you would have to leave school and all your friends … and me.”
I hadn’t even begun to think about the details of one choice over the other, but she was right.
“Are you going to Search it?”
“I need to make a list. Pros and cons.” I jumped off the bed and grabbed a notebook and pen out of my desk. I opened it to a blank page and drew a line down the center, then sat on the edge of my bed, pen ready. The silence stretched as I stared at the page, trying to think of the good things about leaving.
My shoulders tensed as I wrote the first word, because I knew there would be no other words to add beneath it. Dad. When put that way, the choice seemed easy: Lose one person, or lose everyone and everything. But the thought of losing my dad consumed me with such sadness that my stomach hurt. He was my rock. The calming force in my life. I gnawed on my thumbnail. It wasn’t like I’d never see my dad again. Of course he’d come visit, and I could go visit him in whatever Norm town he moved to.
I traced each letter over and over again until the word was black and bold on the page. As I went to add another line of ink to the D Laila grabbed my hand. “Addie, you need to Search it. It will help.”
She took the notebook from me and set it on the bed beside us. “How long?”
The longest amount of time I’d ever Searched was when Bobby asked me to the dance. He’d asked me a week in advance, and because I chose not to Erase it, I had to live and then relive that week of my life. That was rare though. When I Searched, it was usually just for a few days, sometimes only for a few hours, at a time.
I shrugged my shoulders. “A month maybe. Six weeks?”
“How long will that take?”
“Five minutes. I don’t know.” The energies I focused on just seamlessly blended into my mind. It was sort of like a stream joining a river—instant “memories” of the two paths I could take. When it was over, it felt like I had already taken both paths. That’s why I didn’t like to do it too often, because it felt so real that it was hard to separate the would-have from the would.
“Do you think six weeks is enough?” My parents’ surprise announcement was making me second-guess everything. I usually knew exactly what needed to happen and exactly what I would do to make it happen. Not because I Searched everything—I didn’t—but because I liked to have a plan. Plans were good. But now I didn’t know. I was confused and frustrated. I pressed my palms to my eyes.
“It should be plenty.”
I let my shoulders rise and fall with a deep sigh.
Laila, always ready and willing to do just about anything, said, “Well, what are you waiting for?”
“You want me to do it now?”
“I think it would make you feel better.”
I grabbed a pillow, pulled it against my chest, and lay down. On the ceiling above me, in black scrolling print, was the Aristophanes quote I had painted there: “By words the mind is winged.” For some reason it stood out among all the other quotes that loomed above me. “I don’t know. Six weeks is a long time. I’d hate to have so many detailed memories floating around up there.”
“Why? That week leading up to homecoming was pretty awesome. I liked knowing that the heel of my red shoes was going to break on Wednesday after third period and that there would be a pop quiz on Friday.”
“Since I live to serve you, why don’t I just Search every day from now to death?”
“Seriously, why don’t you?” She smacked my leg. “Are you waiting for me to offer, or are you just being ridiculous? You know I can Erase whichever path you don’t choose, so you don’t have to fake it. Sometimes I wonder if you just picked me as your best friend because of my awesome ability.”
“Whatever. Your ability didn’t even Present until the seventh grade.” I paused, then tilted my head. “So wait, are you saying I use your ability a lot?”
“I’m not telling,” she sang. “And it’s true. You didn’t pick me for my ability. You picked me because I shoved Timothy after he stole your virtual pet.”
I smiled, then took a deep breath. I was avoiding the choice, still not sure if I wanted to know, if I was ready to know what my new life would look like. My parents admitted that the only reason they had left the decision up to me was because of my ability. And why wouldn’t I want to know for sure which choice would turn out better?
“Are you ready?” she asked.
I nodded. I had to know.
“So what do I do? Just sit here? Do you need something?”
I laughed. “No, I’m fine. It might take awhile. Are you sure you want to wait?”
“Please, that’s like asking someone if they want to leave the room while Picasso paints a masterpiece.”
“You’re comparing me to Picasso?”
“You know what I’m saying. Now start.”
I settled deeper into the pillow and tried to relax. It was hard when I knew I was about to be flooded with memories of a life I hadn’t lived yet. Really, two lives I hadn’t lived yet. It would only seem like five minutes to Laila, but to me it would feel like a month. I concentrated on the energies around me, and everything went hazy.