The Girl With Green Scales: A Gen M Novel

Chapter 5: Visitors From Across the River

The next morning, I stand in the crowded recreational yard at school, craning my neck to spot Anton. It's before first bell. I'm dimly aware of the smell of tar in the air. A labor crew applies a fresh layer of asphalt behind a section of the yard cordoned off with orange cones and yellow tape. I stand on guard next to the hopscotch course that Anton drew yesterday. The memory fills my belly with a queasy warmth.

"Why can't we play?" Anaya demands. My posse of pretties stand behind her, arms crossed and huffy looks on their faces.

"Because Anton's not here yet," I reply.

"So we have to wait for your new boyfriend?" Anaya snaps.

"Anton's not my boyfriend," I say. But could he be? Does he like girls in that way? Not that it matters; he's made it clear our school is a short stop on his way to Jupitar City. Since he's part of a special breeding program, his parents don't even call him their son, but their ward, to avoid unnecessary attachments, and he refers to them as his guardians.

But what if he doesn't Manifest? I wonder. And if he does, what if I were to Manifest too?

I touch the plastic flower hair accessory he gave me. I wear a floral dress to go with it. I still don't see him. The bell's going to ring soon. Is he all right? Did Jamal and his squad ambush Anton on the way to school? My heart hammers at the thought. I'm about to abandon the hopscotch course to keep a lookout by the gate when I see Anton approaching—with Jamal!

Anton finishes some story and Jamal laughs gregariously. Until now, I've never seen Jamal crack a smile. Anton's sunglasses are propped on Jamal's forehead, and his nails are painted the same pink as Anton's. I shake my head in disbelief. Before I can say a word, Normand walks past. His leg brace glitters with multicolored plastic gems as he passes the part of the recreation yard that's cordoned off.

"What the eff?" I swear.

Caitlin skips by with a brand new pink jump rope; rainbow tassels flutter from the handles. I grab her arm. The whooshing rubber smacks the ground.

"Where did you get that?" I demand.

"Anton gave it to me," she says with an ogre smile. She jerks free and skips away.

All around, I catch glimpses of color—a boy with blue feathers stitched into the collar of his shirt, a girl with a neon orange headband, another boy with bright yellow shoelaces. I touch the flower in my hair.

He does this with everyone, I realize. I pull the flower free and crush it in my fist. Plastic petals snap and drop to the ground.

Anton and Jamal high-five and part ways.

"Sa-lieu, Lilianne," Anton says in his affected on-again, off-again "accent." He's dressed in a golden mesh shirt that hangs about his muscled shoulders. His pants are skin tight black pleather. His blue hair is swooped back into a pompadour. The bell rings. I turn my back on him without saying a word and walk regally toward the school.

I expect him to catch up, call me bae-bé, and ask, "What's wrong? What can I do to fix it?" He doesn't.

Don't look back, I order myself as I sneak a glance over my shoulder.

I see Anton staring at me, a confused look on his face. My heart hammers harder, and the twisting in my belly grows stronger. I force myself to keep walking away.

He sits next to me in class. I wait for him to apologize. He sets a small, worn box in front of me, tied with a red bow. I eye it suspiciously. His last gift fooled me into thinking I was special until it left me feeling common.