The Normals | ✓

S I X

A R D E N

I close the guest room's door gently and head upstairs to my room. Changing out of my day clothes, I climb into bed and pull the blankets over my body. On my bedside table lies my phone, which buzzes with a message. It's Gwen.

Can I call you?

I type a message back. Why?

We haven't talked much. Want to hear your voice.

I tap the little "call" button and wait for her to pick up. She does after a few rings, answering with a "Hey."

"Hi," I reply. "You get back okay?"

She laughs. "I got back ages ago, but yeah. How's the girl?"

"She's doing alright. I was going to take her to the police or whatever the name for them is now, but I ended up just leaving her in the guest room. I might bring her there tomorrow, but she's injured. Oh, which reminds me -- can you come over tomorrow?"

"Depends what time. I have work until four but I can possibly come over during my lunch break. How come?"

"She got pretty badly beaten up on her way here," I say. "Apparently there's a bullet in her leg."

"Oh." The other side of the call goes silent for a moment. "I haven't completed all my surgery training since we barely ever need to use it, but I can try. No promises it'll be perfect though."

"Better than nothing," I say.

We talk on the phone for a while longer. I know that in a few months Gwen and I are supposed to start our own family, but nights like these make me want to freeze time. I don't want to grow up and become just another person helping turn the gears in the complex machine that is our society. I want to stand out.

It doesn't help that sometimes I question if I could ever love Gwen the way she loves me. I do love her, I really do, but not in the way I think she wants me to. And it hurts me to know it hurts her.

At some point, we had gone about our own business while staying on the call. She started studying her medical papers or something while I scrolled through my job's online forum. Nothing new, except for a couple event announcements. Eventually, we hang up because our devices will lock automatically in a few minutes, and I lie down properly.

My thoughts stray to Arthemis downstairs. By now, the rest of my family has gone to their respective bedrooms and are most likely asleep or settling down. I think about all that has happened today. She really is a strange person, and certainly the most complex of everyone I know. Just being around her makes me want to ask her an endless stream of questions. I find myself planning out the questions I want to ask her.

What was it like on Pacifica? Why are you labelled "Different"? Why would you risk everything for the idea that something else is out there?"

I don't know what's stranger -- her, or the fact that the stories my parents would tell me as a kid of people marked as "Different" and sent to Pacifica are real.

I hear faint noises coming from downstairs and realize it's her crying again. As much as I find it annoying, I think I'm just going to have to put up with it. And as much as I want to say I get it, I really don't. My entire life has been easy, handed to me on a silver platter. She can't say the same. I should at least let her cry her feelings out.

After a while, the crying dulls down and disappears completely. By then, I'm too tired to stay awake for much longer, so I pull the covers up to my chin and stare outside, where the tall skyscrapers in the distance are peppered with the lights of rooms still awake.