Page 136 of Sparktopia
Of course, that’s not the only reason. The way he touched me held a lot of sway in the end. And I get it. He’s missing Clara. He wants Clara. I was nothing but a convenient substitute. But when he came out of the building this morning and walked across the bridge, I saw him in a new light. Vulnerable, regretful,and not the monster I had made him out to be in my head all these years.
He loved Clara. He doesn’t want to do this. He said that. And I believe him.
So he’s not on their side. He’s not even aware therearesides, from the way he tells it. So why should he be our enemy? Why couldn’t he help us?
Then there’s that. The term ‘us.’
Because when Auntie came up to the table during our talk, I suddenly stopped feeling like part of her ‘us.’ Why was she so confrontational? I wasn’t doing anything weird. Does she suspect that he and I…? No. Surely not. Why would she jump to that conclusion?
Unless… she was somehow watching.
No. It’s not possible. If Auntie was able to spy on Finn in his quarters, why would she need me?
I turn the corner of the last hallway and come face to face with her and Matron Connelly. “Auntie!” I nearly skid to a stop, that’s how surprised I am to find her right in front of me. “What are you doing here?”
Better question is… how did she get here? Wasn’t she just behind me, back in the dining hall? I’m sure I saw her there before I left. Didn’t I? Maybe I just thought I saw her.
“Come with us, Jasina.”
“OK.” I start walking, but suddenly they have both grabbed me by the upper arms and they are practically dragging me down the hallway. “What’s going on? Why are you acting so weird?”
“Shut up, niece. We will talk in private.”
I am dragged like this down many passageways and then, once we enter the same interior glass bridge I was in the other night, I realize we’re going back to the Matron Tower. A tower where no one is permitted except Matrons. Which didn’t botherme much last time, but last time I was being treated like the Chosen One and right now I’m being treated like a prisoner.
We end up at the same place—the door to the control room. And this is when I realize things are really wrong, because Auntie dismisses Matron Connelly with a wave of her hand. There is no discussion.
The door to the room where the tele-visions live opens and I am shoved through by Auntie’s firm hand. I stumble forward, and turn, just as she slams the door closed behind her. “What were you doing up there, you little witch?”
My mouth drops open. “What?”
Auntie stares straight at me, and my instincts are good enough that I see the threat, so I shrink back. But it’s not enough. The slap across my face is quick, and hard, and angry.
I’m so stunned I can’t even move. My cheek stings like I was punched, not slapped, that’s how hard the blow was.
“Answer me! Right now! What were you talking about at the Extraction Master’s table?”
“He asked me about my family! He asked me about you! Because of our names!”
The hand is coming at me again. And again, I am too slow. It has still not fully registered that I have become this woman’s enemy. The second blow sends me stumbling sideways and I’m so off balance, I end up on the floor. I put my hand in front of my face as I stare up at my aunt, wondering what the hell is going on. “Why are you so angry?”
“Answer me. What were you talking about?”
“We were talking about Clara, OK? I said I was sorry that he was forced to send her through the tower! It was just a ploy!”
Finn’s word comes flying out of my mouth. Thankfully. Because it is this word ‘ploy’ that changes Auntie’s anger into something else. Not regret, that’s for sure, but possibly… confusion.
I grab at this turn, getting to my feet. “He’s vulnerable, Auntie. Don’t you see? I’m trying to get close to him. To make him like me.”
Her confusion solidifies into something else now. It’s hard to read, but I’m hoping it’s acceptance. “To make him like you. No. To make himwantyou. Sexually.”
“Yes! Of course!”
She smiles. Then sighs. “I apologize, then. I should’ve realized you’d resort to sex to complete the job.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I didn’t intend to say that out loud, but out loud it comes.
“You’ve always been a whore, Jasina. How many boys have had their hands up your shirt, hmm? Maybe the better question is, how many of them have had their hands up your skirts? Well, I am not surprised. I always knew you’d resort to sex. But what do I care? It’s just your nature. And it benefits the Rebellion, so… carry on then.”
