Gray

Chapter Two

I promised that if I got 50 reads by Easter I'd post the next chapter. Well, I got fifty reads, and I never break a promise. Enjoy! (Even though this is a little late...)

The Vaporbus rolls to a stop, and the doors open. The people around me chatter, but I stay silent. This job is important to me. If I'm not well-behaved, I may get stuck with an awful job. I can't take that risk.

Once I'm out of the stuffy Vaporbus, I look at the work building in awe. Even though I've been here everyday since I was ten, it still amazes me. It's nearly 100 feet high, and it's one of the biggest workplaces in town.

In this city, we don't waste time learning things we don't need to know. If you're a Cleaner, you don't need to know arithmetic. And if you're a Banker, who deals out supplies, you have to need to learn how to clean.

Your job is chosen when you're five years old. Up until then, you just learn things like proper English and basic skills, like how to count and read. But you don't choose your career after all your schooling, like they did in Pre-Society. It's a waste of time, effort, and talent. It's easier to study what you have to, and get the job you're chosen for.

I was chosen to be an Educator. This made my parents overjoyed, when they heard the news so many years ago. My mother knows about my Timer, and to hear that I could get such a good job despite that, was amazing.

But, of course, there are different types of Educators. Educators are basically anyone who works in a University. If I misbehave, I could get stuck with a job like teaching the rebels how to properly behave. That's the job my brother was assigned, many years ago. He's ten years older to me, and I'm barely even legal. I was born the very last day that my mother would be deemed fit to conceive a child without being too old.

A loud buzzer rings, and the gates inside the building slowly lift up. The chattering quiets as we all prepare for today's assignment.

I'm surrounded by children younger than I. This is the place where children get their first jobs, to prepare for the jobs they will be assigned in their older years. Had my Timer went off already, I would be a full Educator, teaching older children how to do their jobs.

But my Timer didn't go off yet. I sneak a glace down to my wrist. 1:41. Okay. A second has passed. At least it's something.

It's only days until my 18th birthday, and if my Timer doesn't go off by then...

I'll be killed in the middle of the street.

"How much time do you have left?" A girl-- Seycrid, I think she said her name was-- of about twelve says, trying to glance at my Timer.

I yank my wrist away. "You should know it's rude to ask," I say, gritting my teeth, trying not to sound annoyed (and probably failing).

"Well, I only have six days!" She boasts. "That's right! I'll be Matched at the age of eleven!"

Okay, she's eleven, not twelve. This is bad, very bad. You can't get Matched at eleven. You have to be at least 13!

I grab her arm tightly. Suddenly, she's someone I have to protect, rather than a nuisance I must avoid. "Listen," I hiss in a whisper, "have you been to the class on Matching?"

She furrows her brow. "No. I'm an Educator, not an Overseer. Why should I have to know everything about it?"

"Have you been to any classes on Matching?" I ask, exasperated. Such an ignorant, naive child.

"Um... No."

I take a deep breath. "You can't get Matched until you're thirteen."

Her eyes widen, and she squeezes my hand. "What? What do you--"