Tainted, Page 3

CHAPTER THREE

  The banging at the door becomes louder and more incessant. Sebastian gives me a grim nod, as he clasps his hand around the door handle and slowly pulls it back.

  I hold my breath as it opens.

  ‘Quinn?’ I breathe, as the door opens fully to reveal her standing in the entrance.

  ‘Geez Sebastian, took you long enough!’ Quinn says, as she enters, looking as though nothing has happened.

  ‘Quinn!’ I exclaim, running forward and grabbing her up in a hug. ‘I was so worried.’

  She merely laughs in response. ‘Elle, chill! I’m fine, you’re fine, we’re all just fine.’ She laughs again. ‘Actually, I’m more than fine. I’m ecstatic! Just been on a date with a super cute doctor from the Hospital Wing.’

  Sebastian steps towards Quinn. ‘So you let Elle worry all this time you might have been taken, while you go on a date? Don’t you care what she went through?’ An incredulous tone creeps into his voice.

  ‘Calm down tiger,’ Quinn chides.

  ‘Why didn’t you answer her comms?’ he persists.

  ‘I was busy,’ she says with a shrug, walking past us both to sit on her bed. She picks up her Vogue magazine from the bedside table and absently gazes at the amalgamation of faces that dot the cover of the 150th anniversary edition. There’s usually a reverence, bordering on obsession, in the way she looks at that thing, but tonight she seems disinterested. She leans herself back against the pillow, with her most prized possession from the past, and begins to carefully flick through it.

  Her casual approach to the whole thing seems to really get on Sebastian’s nerves. I can see his face gearing up for a confrontation, so I walk over to him and touch his arm. I ever so slightly shake my head and mouth ‘don’t’. He nods back at me, but I can tell by the look in his eyes and his tight set jaw, he’s still angry.

  ‘It’s getting late. Maybe it’s time for you to go,’ I tell Sebastian. My voice is calm, but my eyes tell a different story. ‘Don’t start something,’ they warn.

  ‘Yeah, okay,’ he responds. ‘Bye Quinn.’ He stresses each word slowly and harshly.

  ‘Bye Sebastian,’ she mimics back to him, not bothering to look up from her magazine.

  Sebastian’s face transforms as he looks at me. He gives me his easy, warm smile that has been known to devastate other girls. Me? I’m unaffected. Totally unaffected.

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he says, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. He turns to leave, but before he goes I call his name, causing him to pause by the door and turn back to me.

  ‘Thanks … for everything tonight,’ I say, my words garbling in their rush to get out.

  His lips curve into a pleased smile. ‘It was no problem.’ His eyes fall from mine to stare at the floor. He almost looks embarrassed, but I can’t for the life of me figure out why. Without another word he quickly leaves.

  As soon as the door shuts Quinn drops her magazine back on top of the bedside table. ‘Finally! I thought he’d never leave!’ she complains.

  When I turn back to her, I find her face transformed. The carefree look that had moments ago graced her face is gone.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Noth—’

  ‘Quinn, I know that face. What’s wrong?’

  She pulls herself to the edge of the bed and dangles her legs down over the side.

  ‘You’re probably going to think I’m crazy, well, crazier than normal. But people have been talking,’ she says quietly. ‘There hasn’t been anyone taken in over six months…’

  ‘So? That’s a good thing right?’

  She shakes her head. ‘I’m not so sure. I’ve been hearing lots of people are about to be taken. I’d dismissed it as idle ARC gossip, but today my testing felt off, like something was different. It was almost as though they wanted my result to come back tainted.’

  She bends her head over to look down at her hands fidgeting in her lap. ‘I don’t know. The whole thing just has me worried. I have a feeling something bad is going to happen…’

  ‘There’s nothing for you to worry about. You aren’t tainted. You won’t have to worry for another year,’ I say, in an attempt to cheer her up.

  ‘You’re right. I’m being silly.’ She laughs lightly at herself, but the sound is stilted and there’s a tension across her forehead. She’s visibly still upset.

  ‘So, wanna hear about my date with Dr. Delicious?’ she asks, wiggling her eyebrows at me.

  I laugh and go sit at the end of her bed. I’m so happy she’s okay I’d be willing to hear her talk about anything. As she talks enthusiastically about the date though, I find myself focusing more on what she said before. For something to unnerve Quinn like that, and affect her usual chirpy self for even a second, it must be serious.

  The next morning I wake abruptly, as Quinn flicks on the overhead light. I groan and throw my sheet over my face. Moments later her hairdryer is fired up and I groan even louder. I know I must be over the concern I felt for her yesterday because, so far today, I think I’m going to kill her.

  The high-pitched whine of the hairdryer rackets loudly from the other side of the sheet. There’s no way I can sleep under these conditions so I restlessly shove my sheet off and down the bed, then prop myself up against the wall. Rubbing my eyes, I wait for them to adjust to the light.

  Quinn is already dressed in her greys for the day. She’s one of the few people in the ARC who look good in the regulation clothes we are required to wear. I check the time on my cuff. Six in the morning—you’ve got to be kidding me.

  ‘Why are you up so early?’ I grumble. Quinn spins around and turns off the dryer.

  ‘Oh sorry Elle! I didn’t mean to wake you. I have the early shift this morning.’ Her voice is energetic and she’s way too animated for this hour. Especially considering she kept me awake for half the night talking about her date.

  Quinn graduated from school three years ago and now works in ‘data and admin’ for the hospital. The amount of effort she puts in to getting ready for a day at work, in some small forgotten shoebox of a room, always amazes me.

  Like she needs to put in any effort. Her long blonde hair always manages to fall in perfect large, soft curls and she has a face that probably belongs on the cover of her old Vogue magazine. Like mine, her pale skin shines as a signature of a life lived underground, but her golden hair and bright green eyes are so much more exciting than my own brown hair, blue-eyed combo.

  ‘I promise I’ll be quick!’ she pleads. I merely groan again in response and lean my head against the wall. She rushes around the room throwing items in her bag and checks herself in the mirror one last time, before walking to the door. She places her hand against the light switch as she goes to leave.

  ‘On or off?’

  ‘Off! Off!’ I beg.

  ‘Okay!’ She laughs as she turns the light off.

  ‘Have a good day,’ I mumble sleepily, as the door slams shut and the hard, wooden doorframe shudders.

  I settle back down into bed. After several minutes of tossing, turning and rearranging I can tell I’m too restless to get back to sleep. I lie with my eyes open, wide-awake.

  Even with the light off there is no true darkness in the ARC. Deep blue sensor lights line the point where all walls meet the floor and a small night-light illuminates the door handle. What I’d give for complete darkness right now.

  I keep trying to get comfortable, but it’s pointless. I’m awake and there’s no chance of sleep now. Reluctant to leave the bed’s warmth, but unable to lie restlessly any longer, I get up, grab my towel and head for the communal showers down the hallway.

  The hot steamy water feels amazing, but for some reason I can’t relax. I feel fidgety and agitated, like bugs are squirming under my skin, making it hard for me to stand still. I should be relieved knowing Quinn’s okay. Instead I feel completely on edge. I keep replaying what she said last night over and over in my mind. Surely they did
n’t want her to be tainted?

  I’m still restless when I get back to the room, and having to tear through my drawers to try and find a clean set of greys doesn’t seem to be making me any calmer.

  As I begin to brush a comb through my hair, my eyes fall down to the corner of a notebook that peeks out from under Quinn’s bed. Curious, I bend down to pick it up. The book is larger than I’d expected and has ‘Sebastian Scott’ written across the cover, in his heavy, messy scrawl.

  I have seen him with the thing countless times; it’s always tucked up under his arm, almost an extension of himself. On the rare occasions I see him draw, he will prop the book at such an angle to keep his work hidden. He’s never shared the book’s contents with me though, and I have to admit I’m curious.

  The book feels like fire in my fingers and, despite my temptation to open it and see what’s inside, I know its pages hold something deeply personal for Sebastian. I couldn’t open this book anymore than I could read his diary.

  I drop the book onto to my bed, intending to keep it there until I leave for school. It lands at an awkward angle though and falls open to reveal one of its pages. I find myself unable to look away and am captivated by the pictures that cover the paper.

  It’s not just one drawing, but many that fit in any and every spare space on the page. From afar the page is awash with charcoal, but looking closely I can depict each object. There are places like the Atrium and the library, but also drawings of things he couldn’t possibly remember, like the sun and the stars. They’re beautiful and so intricately drawn and interwoven between each other that anyone would admire his talent.

  I freeze when my eyes find their way to one particular sketch. There, drawn on the page, is a perfect likeness of me. I grab the book up to look at it more closely. The drawing is so detailed and it looks as though it must’ve taken him hours to do. He’s even managed to capture the small chickenpox scar on my chin. I touch the spot, almost as if to check I haven’t imagined it.

  Looking at the page, I start to feel uncomfortable. Why did he draw this? I quickly slam the notebook shut. I really ought to get this back to him.