Spark

Chapter thirteen: Emma

Evan walked besides me, messing with the bottom of his shirt nervously, and kept throwing suspicious glances around us. I sighed, and continued walking, not bothering to comfort him.

"I still don't understand," he finally said after a few minutes of us slowly walking towards the lake. The lake loomed in front of us, the moon casting a sparkling reflection into the water.

"Understand what?" I question, glancing at him curiously.

"How you are a Defect," he mutters, and I don't answer. Instead, we both walk towards the lake and sit down near the water. I take off my shoes and let my toes lay in the water. Evan doesn't do that, and instead just stares off in the distance across the lake.

I take the time to study him closer, noticing the slight bags that reside under his eyes. Caused my either stress, or lack of sleep. Almost everyone in the Slums have them, its not common for someone that lives inside the Nation to have them. They aren't seen as a big deal, but its still seen as an imperfection. In a way, this small imperfection makes him more human.

"Defect is a derogatory term," I say quietly, not having the energy to get angry at him. Having no mission has made me exhausted, "We are all the same."

"No," he utters in disbelief, and I feel anger crawling its way up my throat, but I refuse to release it, "You people have issues."

"Issues?" I ask in disbelief, "We have issues?"

He scoots away from me a little, as if I were going to hit him. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't considering it, but I expect someone from the city to be ignorant in these matters. After all, this is how they were raised. How we were all raised.

Instead, I pick up a small rock from besides me and start tossing it back and forth between my hands, feeling the rough texture of the rock. Evan stares at my hands, waiting for me to continue scolding him.

"Does Frankie look like she has issues?" I ask him, staring across the lake in concentration.

"No, but-"

"Would you like to know why she can't live in the city like everyone else? Why she can't have her perfect match, like I'm sure you have?"

He clenches his teeth, "Don't talk about my match."

I continue as if he hadn't said anything, "Because her mother has a cleft lip. Frankies father wasn't from the Slums. Sue doesn't like talking about him, but I know he came from the city. Frankie was born perfectly healthy, yet her father as well as the nation rejected her because who her mother was. Is that fair, Evan?"

Hes quiet, and he breathes deeply, seeming to be in deep thought. But he doesn't answer me, and instead we are left in an awkward silence. I start fidgeting, feeling anxious for some odd reason. What is he thinking?

"Did you have a match?" He asks quietly, sighing deeply and leaning back on his arms and stretching his legs in front of him. I purse my lips, considering his question, and whether or not I should tell the truth on that front.

"Yes," I say finally, deciding that there was no harm in telling the truth on that front, "But we obviously can't be together, since I'm not up to societies standards."

"My matches name is Marie," he says, "But I don't think I like her."

I swing my head around to look at him head on, and raise my eyebrow. Hes blushing profusely, looking down at the ground as if its the most interesting thing in the entire world.

"I'm sorry," he mutters quietly, "I'm not supposed to talk like that."

"Its okay to have doubts. The Picking isn't very clever, anyways. It doesn't take into account people's feelings."

"Because they don't matter. All that matters is eliminating diseases, defects."

I shake my head and turn away from him once again, "You're absolutely clueless."

"What? Did you love your match?" He laughs a little harshly, and I resist the urge to smash his face into a rock.

"Lets stop talking about matches, okay?" I snap at him, "Its obviously a sore subject for both of us."

We both glare at each other for a second, and I notice that when hes angry his jaw clenches, as if he wants to say something but physically has to stop himself.

I stare up at the sky, at the partially concealed moon, and vaguely wondered if Noah was looking at the moon. I wondered how he was feeling at this exact moment, and if he was thinking about me.

"I should probably get back home," Evan said after a few minutes of silence. He stands up and dusts himself off, then offers his hand to me.

I stare at his hand, considering whether or not to take it. Shrugging, I grab it and let him pull me up.

"It wasn't much of an adventure," I say apologetically, "But I'm sure it was pretty cool to you."

"You're right," he says lightly.

I smile a little, "I usually am."

Evan laughs, a soft but deep sounding laugh, and I find myself also chuckling, feeling oddly light. I've become accustomed to a heavy feeling on my chest constantly, worry of being caught, worry of Noah, worry of Frankie and Sue. But for the first time in a while, I feel somewhat happy.

Frankie is waiting outside, hands on her hips, as she watches us walk towards her. I furrow my eyebrows, but then she simply waves at us.

"Mom wants to see you," Frankie says and I frown, confused. I turn to Evan, and he just smiles.

"I can walk myself home," he assures me, and waves a little bit. Who waves when the person is right in front of them?

"Okay," I say, my mind focused on why Sue would want to see me.

"Don't be a stranger, Evan," Frankie says to him, smiling flirtatiously, "You're welcome anytime."

I scowl at Frankie, and she just shrugs a little.

"Thanks Frankie," he says, grinning at her. He then looks down to me, "I'll see you later."

"Okay."

He walks away from us, and out of the Slums, and Frankie sighs heavily, "He's cute."

I would have to lie if I said he wasn't, "I guess so."

She rolls her eyes at me, "One day Emma, you'll be a normal girl with normal feelings."

She turns away from me and walks back into the house, and I just frown after her, staring at the rickety house.

"I doubt it."

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Short and unedited, happy easter!