Imitation (10 page)

The meal passes with small talk that I
don’t quite understand. Daniel mentions “the business.” Titus
replies it is booming and Daniel agrees. “Of course it is. The poor
are growing more and more volatile. You’d think having nothing
would crush their spirit, not the opposite.” Distaste coats his
words.

“
They’ll tire eventually,”
Titus says. “In the meantime, our greatest defense is concealment
of our … transitions.” He glances my way and then falls silent.
They don’t want me to hear this.

Daniel seems to understand and they
change the subject, discussing a party for a senator. They
speculate about elections and polls and the hot topics being
shouted from soapboxes. I catch the words “city segregation” and
lose my appetite as I remember the stumbling man Linc and I
narrowly avoided the other night.

Titus wants to ban people like that
from this part of the city. I can’t help the small sliver of relief
that brings—the prospect of not bearing witness to such wanting.
But then I realize how completely opposite of compassionate that
would be, and my appetite vanishes. I set my utensils aside and
fold my hands in my lap. I will not eat. I will not be party to
this conversation, even through acquiescence.

After dinner, Titus leaves us alone
and Daniel and I go into the parlor. I am nervous. Not because of
Daniel but because Linc shadows us. I want to speak to him, to find
out where he’s been or if anything new has come to light about my
attackers, but I know that would be a mistake.

I sit primly on the edge of a
high-backed chair, but Daniel immediately waves me over to the
small space left on the loveseat beside him. “What are you doing
all the way over there, kitten? Your daddy won’t bother us for a
while.” He says the words slowly, suggestively, and every nerve
ending jumps as I settle next to him.

Invisible insects crawl over my skin
as he slides his arm around me and pulls me close. He is smiling
down at me, his lips twisted in a way that belies any warmth behind
the gesture. “Come here.”

I swallow but it lodges in my throat
and I can feel Linc watching us from near the doorway. I know then
I cannot do this. I cannot be this version of Authentic
Raven.

I shove Daniel away and straighten my
back so that our bodies are no longer pressing together from hip to
shoulder. “I’m not feeling very well,” I say.

He frowns but looks more angry than
concerned. “What’s the problem?”

I rack my brain for a good-enough
reason to bolt from the room. When I don’t answer, he says, “You’re
not still thinking about that incident from last night, are you?”
He leans closer and winds his arm around my shoulders
again.

That incident.
Someone tried to murder me, and Daniel has
referred to it as
that
incident
. My chest burns with indignation.
My fingertips tingle with it. I jump to my feet and stare down at
him, uncaring what the correct response is or if I am out of
character.

“
I think you should go
now.”

He stands too and smiles slyly. “I
love it when you make me work for it, Rav,” he says. His voice is
rough with desire. Before I can react, he grabs and yanks me
against him. His mouth is hovering over mine and I know what he
intends to do. I refuse to let him.

The anger is hot, spilling out. I
shove him. “Get away from me,” I hiss. From the corner of my eye, I
see Linc take a step toward us. Daniel doesn’t notice. He’s too
busy accepting my rejection—something he’s probably never
experienced, judging by the expression on his face.

“
Seriously?” Daniel gapes
at me. “Is it your time of the month or something?”

I concentrate on breathing in and out
slowly because this stupid boy is not worth blowing my cover. He is
not worth dying over.

I speak through clenched teeth. “I
will not ask you again.”

Before Daniel can respond, I hear Linc
say, “The lady asked you to leave. I think it’s best if you
comply.”

Daniel whips his head around. For the
first time, he seems to notice how Linc has positioned himself. His
shoulders stiffen. “Are you threatening me, GI Joe? Because that
wouldn’t be very smart.”

“
I’m simply reiterating
the lady’s request.” Linc’s tone is even, giving nothing away, but
I see his fingers curl slightly inward.

Linc and Daniel regard one another.
The air is heavy with tension. Finally, Daniel blinks and mutters
under his breath. I catch the words “replaced” and “early” before
he grabs his jacket off the arm of the sofa and stomps
out.

I don’t move until I hear the outer
door—the one that will take him to the elevator—opening and closing
behind him.

When I move to leave, Linc steps into
my path, blocking me. I don’t want to look at him. If I see pity in
his expression, I think I’ll lose it. All of the layers I’ve
stacked so carefully between me and the rest of the world feel
cracked and broken. My wall is close to crumbling in this moment
and I refuse to let him see that. To let Titus hear about it. He is
not worth dying over, either.

“
Are you all
right?”

It is anger I hear in his voice, not
concern, and that intrigues me. I raise my face to his. There is
more anger there. And something else, but it is not pity or
suspicion as I feared. I exhale.

“
I’ll be fine,” I
manage.

“
Are you sure? Because
you’ve never—” He breaks off, his expression clouding.

“
I’ve never
what?”

He is silent and unwilling to look at
me. Suddenly, I need to know what it is Authentic Raven has never
done. And why he’s noticed.

“
You’ve never turned down
a boy,” he says quietly.

My cheeks heat but this time it is not
from anger. “Oh.” My face burns with an emotion that feels foreign.
I sidestep him and make for my bedroom. By the time I’m inside, I
realize what it is that made me flee from his words. It is
shame.

I am ashamed for something I’ve never
done.

Titus is not at breakfast the next
morning. It is a welcome relief until the maid brings me the note
he’s left in his absence:

Your early dismissal of
Daniel last evening leads me to believe you are not yourself after
all the excitement of the past few days. Gus will escort you to the
gym after breakfast. Exercise is paramount to mental health.
–Titus

I read it over three times before I am
convinced there is no hidden threat. Titus doesn’t know what
happened last night. Not truly. But the last line is a stark
reminder of what I am. The fact that it’s written here gives me
pause. It is the same slogan painted in block letters above the gym
doors and on multiple walls throughout Twig City. Again I wonder
how Titus knows so much about where I come from.

I am no longer hungry but I’ll need
the calories now, so I fold the paper and lay it aside while I
finish eating. The routine of exercise is nothing new, but I’m
still weak from the hit I sustained on the rooftop. Plus I haven’t
been sleeping well. I doubt any of this will matter to Gus. I dread
what sort of activity awaits me.

I swallow the rest of my eggs without
chewing and chase it with juice. Gus is there before my plate has
been cleared. I rise and follow him out. He leads me down a hall I
don’t recognize and we take a flight of stairs down to a lower
level I didn’t know existed as part of this apartment. I pay close
attention to details like doors and exit signs before I curse
myself for the futility. Although I know I’m imagining it, I swear
I can feel the GPS in my arm pulsing to the beat of my heart as I
walk. Taunting me. Reminding me there is no escape. Only duty and
purpose.

“
You can change here,” Gus
says, stepping back and ushering me forward.

Gus leaves me alone in a small room
with a cabinet full of sports bras and Lycra shorts. There isn’t
enough material on either for my taste, and when I emerge, I feel
naked. Gus gives me a cursory glance but the other two guards
who’ve positioned themselves near the exits give me a thorough
once-over that makes my skin crawl. I do my best to ignore them and
follow Gus to a wall-mounted cabinet that contains fencing
equipment.

My experience with this particular
sport is limited. The equipment in Twig City is second-rate because
the women get the men’s hand-me-downs. The foils are all dull by
the time they reach us, dangerous in their disrepair. Lonnie loves
it, though, so I am often talked into it against my better
judgment. I usually walk away with some bruise or another when we
abandon the foils and it deteriorates into a wrestling
match.

Ida always fusses at that.

I grit my teeth and force my
concentration back to the equipment Gus is handing me. I slide the
gloves on and then the mask. My injured cheek smarts as I slide it
over my face. It smells stale, not of sweat but as if it hasn’t
been used in a while. I wonder if Authentic Raven is a skilled
fencer. I am tempted to ask Gus so I know what level of skill to
strive for, but I keep silent. I remember my encounter with Titus
and how Gus stood by and watched in silence. I don’t want to talk
to him any more than I would Titus.

The door opens and a girl enters. I’ve
never seen her before. She is young with dark features and reminds
me of the kitchen staff with her olive skin tone and full lips. She
spots Gus and then me and begins to make her way over. She is
dressed like me, although she has a shirt covering her torso where
my halter leaves my abdomen bare. Again, I feel naked.

“
Raven, this is Sofia. She
is your fencing partner,” Gus says.

We nod at each other, matching dips of
our chin, and then Gus shoves a foil into my hand and walks off.
Sofia pays me no attention as she goes about adorning herself with
protective equipment. She is all business, absorbed in her
preparations.

I look to Gus and the unnamed security
guard who stands to his left. I wonder where Linc is. I haven’t
seen him all morning and his absence always makes me nervous. My
fears are infinite. That he’s somewhere else, fighting and killing
for Titus, or otherwise in danger. That he has been removed from my
protection detail against his will—or that he’s asked to be
reassigned. After our conversation last night, I think it is likely
his choice to avoid me.

A thousand different things could be
keeping him away. None of them should matter. He shouldn’t matter
but I can’t help that he does. It’s a problem I haven’t quite
figured out yet.

Soft footsteps behind me alert me that
Sofia is ready. I turn and find her watching me through the screen
of her mask. Her expression teeters on boredom but I can feel Gus
watching and I know this is a test, one of a million small things
that mean nothing—unless I botch it. I face Sofia and press my
teeth together, determined to show myself at least
capable.

I swing down and then up and around
with my foil, testing the weight of it in my hand. I focus on how
it feels, how I feel with it in motion. Gus and the security guard
are no longer on my radar. Sofia is nothing more than an oncoming
blade. I stare just past her temple, allowing my peripheral to
capture abstract movement rather than specifics. My reflexes take
over and then I am moving, our thrusts and steps a tandem and
spontaneous dance.

I shift my weight from front to back.
I parry and cross, driving Sofia back as she advances. Perspiration
dots my lip. Inside my mask, it’s stuffy. Several minutes pass, and
it isn’t obvious that I’m losing, but I am. I know it and by the
certainty of her movements, Sofia knows it too.

I am winded. The rise and fall of my
chest has graduated from rhythmic and deliberate to a
lung-screaming necessity. I feel Sofia’s jabs begin to change. She
is more aggressive, sensing my exhaustion. It won’t be long
now.

“
That’ll be all, Sofia,”
Gus calls, ending my defeat inches early.

Sofia immediately steps back and
lowers her foil. I do the same. She nods primly at me and retreats,
already stripping her mask and gear. I remove the mask and shake my
hair out behind me in a move I hope is practiced enough to appear
confident of my imminent victory had the match
continued.

Gus frowns at me. “You do not
fence?”

“
My experience is
limited.”

“
Hmm. What do you do?” he
asks in a way that implies he doesn’t expect anything worthwhile.
It grates on me. I want to prove him wrong.

“
Tennis,” I say finally,
knowing it will make me think of Lonnie and Ida but it is easily my
best sport.

“
Tomorrow you play
tennis,” he says. “For today, just run laps.”

He’s already walking toward Sofia.
She’s removed all of her gear and now stands near the exit watching
me in concentration. When Gus catches her eye, her expression
clears and she gives him her attention.

“
Laps? Where?” I
ask.

He jerks a thumb over his shoulder.
“Through there is the track,” he says without looking
back.