The next morning I woke up at 5:15 a.m. The sun was just barely rising, the horizon a combination of salmon and orange. It was the only time of the day where the only sounds to be heard were the chirping of crickets. I rolled out of bed slowly, eyes half-closed and mind cloudy. I'd never really been a early-morning person, but today I had a lot to do.
I showered as quickly as I could. The water was freezing, because it wasn't yet seven and that's when the Nation began to send us hot water I'd payed for. Of course, I was thankful the shower even worked - sometimes, early in the morning, it didn't, so it was a relief that even if the water was ice cold the shower worked. My window was still open from last night, letting cold air in and warm air out.
Grumbling as I dressed, I slipped on a pair of dark jeans and a long-sleeved sweater. It was late spring, but it was going to be cold today. And I didn't know that just from checking the thermometer downstairs. I fixed myself a bowl of cereal and was about to put the first spoonful into my mouth when Charlie wandered into the kitchen, tired and groggy. He dragged his beloved bear on the ground behind him, hanging limply from one of his arms.
Yes, Charlie was nine, but the bear was the last thing his mother gave to him. He also always slept with his baby blanket tucked under his pillow and, often times, wrapped around one arm. I thought it was cute, but it also broke my heart. He hadn't actually ever known his mother, my Aunt Charmaine, because she died giving birth to him. Going along with that, he wasn't our actual blood brother. Despite what everyone said, we treated him like one.
And despite my wishes, we never spoke about his mother, or for that matter William and I's parents.
"Charlie, why are you up?" I asked, setting down my spoon as he walked over to me. Shrugging, he sat in the chair beside me and set his bear in his lap. "It's not even six yet."
"I couldn't sleep. I heard you get up and take a shower, so I came to join you as you ate." Charlie replied, taking my bowl from me and eating some of my cereal. "And what are you doing up?" He retorted, looking up at me with his brown eyes.
"I have some stuff I need to do today, to get ready for my interview."
"When's that?"
I cleared my throat, feeling awkward. "Uh, the interview is... Actually, we haven't set a date yet."
Charlie gave me a weird look, one that I got quite often from him. "You should take me and William to do something today." He said finally.
"But I have to talk to Dory." I shook my head, taking the now empty cereal bowl from him into the kitchen. Charlie followed me and watched as I washed the bowl in the sink, and then dried and put it away. We didn't have a dishwasher or laundry machines. I'd always wanted one, because it's actaully very difficult to do laundry by hand, but they're just extremely expensive. Only the rich, which we clearly were not, had them.
"Well, Dory can come." Charlie insisted, trailing behind me again as I walked into the little alclove we called the living room. I sat on the window sill and stared out the window, wishing he'd leave it. "Please, Norah. We haven't done anything fun in ages!" He flopped into a chair and sighing dramatically.
"Besides, we don't have school this week." William added, coming into the room.
"Oh, come on!" I moaned, exasperated. The boys stared at me, giving me the puppy dog look that they knew I always fell for. It was my weakness. These boys had dealt with so much sadness, and I just couldn't say no to them.
"Fine!" I leaned against the window frame as I gave in. "Fine. We'll do something today."
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I kicked a rock the entire way to my best friend's house. It was a good mile's walk because she lived in a pretty nice neighborhood, having an important figure of the Nation as her father. I didn't feel entirely comfortable with the thought of leaving my brothers at home alone, but they'd done it before and I'd only be gone for a little while.
Recently the Nation had installed an electric fence around the section of town where people like Dory lived. The only way in and out was a guard post and gate at the front of the little town. To be let in, you had to show the always present guard your ID, and if he either, a., didn't recognize you or, b., didn't have you on a guest list, you were turned around and shoved out. Dory's father, Mr. Darling, had put me on a permanent guest list so that I didn't have to inform them of anytime I felt like coming over. I'm pretty sure Mr. Darling thought I was a good influece on his daughter, that I taught her lessons about humbleness and other things like that.
I'm also pretty sure he considered me a second daughter.
Lost in my thoughts, I walked past the guard post without flashing my ID.
"Miss!" The guard yelled, reaching out to grab my arm. "I need your ID." I flinched as his fingers made contact with my arm, a memory flashing through my mind. Banishing the thought, I turned toward him and pulled the small card out of my pocket.
"Here you go. Norah Ryder." I said sheepishly, staring at the ground while I blushed madly. Soon he handed my ID back, and I slipped it into the back pocket of my jeans before continuing towards the gate. There was a loud buzz, and the large metal doors screeched open. I raised my hand to wave goodbye to the guard before squeezing through the narrow space he'd given me.
When I rung the doorbell to Dory's house, I could hear the song it played throughout the house through the door. I rocked on my heels and looked at the houses beside my best friend's, big and intimidating. It was here that I felt most self-conscious about my lifestyle; my home, belongings, clothes. But every time I came here, I wore my most presentable clothes (my nicest dress, prettiest shirt, etc.). Maybe I overdid it, but these people were rich - besides, everyone here stared at me enough when I acted as myself. Perhaps if I blended in more, they wouldn't judge me so much.
"Hello, dear." Mrs. Darling said dryly as she opened the door. It was fairly obvious that she disagreed with Mr. Darling and hated me. She believed I was a dirty rugrat that was posioning her daughter's mind. Oh well.
"Hi, Mrs. Darling. I was wondering if Dory's home?" I asked, using the best polite voice I had. I tried to make a good impression on her, I really did. The first time I met her, though, the timing wasn't very... convenient. She glared at me for using the, in her mind, ridiculous nickname I'd given her daughter.
"Yes, Norah, Florence is here." Mrs. Darling spat, turning away and facing the staircase. "Florence! Your... friend is here!" She called, glancing over her shoulder at me. Dory came running down the stairs, jumping off the last two and coming at me with the momentum she had gathered. I put my hands up to shelter my face, scared she was going to crash, as Mrs. Darling jumped out of the way. Putting out her hands, Dory grabbed the door's frame and came to a stop just in front of me.
"Norah! I haven't seen you in forever!" She yelled, enveloping me in a hug. Dory was infamous for her rib-crushing bear hugs, although everyone loved them. She'd never actually hurt anyone, so her mother thought they were fine.
Laughing, I hugged her back and then pulled away. "Guess what?" I asked, voice rising in excitement. She'd always supported me, and she'd been the one to encourage me to apply for the Mem. Sip program.
Dory stopped jumping and looked at me quizzically, trying to figure out what I wanted to tell her. "What?"
Barely containing my excitement, I pulled her outside. She shut the door behind her, wiggling her bare feet to keep them warm. "I got accepted for an interview!" I squealed, jumping up like a little girl. Dory stared at me for a moment, heading following my movements and bobbing up and down, before understanding. Her mouth fell open and she screamed.
"No way! Norah, I'm so happy for you!" She pulled me in for another hug, and we continued jumping. We probably looked incredibly stupid, jumping around like small children, but at the moment I didn't care. When we pulled away from eachother her eyes were slightly cloudy.
"Norah, you won't erase me from your memories, right?" Dory asked, still holding my arms tight. Her palms were cold on my skin, and as a breeze sent my hair fluttering behind me I shook my head.
"No, silly, I'm not going to forget you. I wouldn't give you up for a million dollars."
