The Rebel Code

Chapter Two - Part Two

"I can't believe everything else in science is on pause until we get this stupid freeboot education unit over with," groans Malina, kicking up a loose piece of parking lot with the toe of her boot. "I was looking forward to that fishery field trip."

The air today smells fresh and clean, and the pavement is sun-warmed after the storm. Malina always waits with me while I wait for John to be done. Considering how little time gym class takes, you'd think he'd be out of the school sooner than me, but there are all sorts of things about being a teacher that I don't understand. Malina, however, is free until sports this evening. Coach Mitch is responsible for the boys' football and volleyball teams, and Malina always has to tag along with homework to keep herself busy. I once asked her why she doesn't just walk home on her own, but Malina is the oldest of five siblings, so she probably savors her alone time where she can find it.

"I don't mind learning about freeboots," I say, "I just feel like it's overkill, this protocol. They already caught the guy."

Moments later, Coach Mitch appears, a volleyball bag over his shoulder, and he waves Malina to the car.

"Are you sure you don't want a ride home?" she offers, jingling a set of keys around her fingers. "We're stopping by the house to pick some stuff up, and I'm driving today. You can watch my dad panic for ten minutes."

There are pros and cons to being a year younger than my best friend. The pros are that she already knew the ins and outs of the academy by the time I graduated, and was able to be a sort of school guru to me this entire year. The cons? She can drive and I can't. Malina just turned seventeen, the driving age in the Aquaculture Province, and she suddenly seems like an adult already. I won't turn seventeen until mid-August, another four months from now. She's always reminding me that it could be worse, that we could live in the Business Province or the Technology Province, or somewhere where you can't be younger than eighteen. They organize our driving ages by province based on whether or not the adults need the kids to help with their work. Here and in Mining, it's seventeen. It's only sixteen in Agriculture, just north of us, where the farms need all the help they can get.

"That sounds tempting," I laugh, "but I think it's better if I go home with John today. You know how protective he is, and with things the way they are..."

"Right." She grins. "I might be a freeboot. You'd better watch out."

I'd much rather spend the short drive from school to our subdivision with Malina, but there are rules in my house. Rules about everything.

They drive away, and I see my family's car pull up to the curb, but John isn't in the driver's seat. Instead, it's Mo. I open the door, and she immediately switches off the radio, smiling a smile I know is forced. I don't try to look cheerful after today. The cartoon and quiz seem to have drained all my energy, and I melt into the passenger seat.

    "Let me guess," sighs Mo, starting the car. "New protocol packets for the teachers?"

    I nod.

    "How was it?"

    "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." I slide the seatbelt across my chest. "How long do you think they're going to make us do this?"

    She shrugs. "A week, I'm guessing. Maybe two."

    "Where's John?"

    "Teachers' meeting. He's going to walk home today, I guess."

    "Why doesn't he just take the van for once?" I laugh.

    We're one of the few teacher families in our subdivision who have two cars. There's the blue SUV, the standard model the school gives to every teacher as part of their employment protocol. But there's also the van John brought with him when he moved to Port Carina, back when I was just a toddler. It's gray and faded, but seems to be in good condition. All the same, he never uses it. It just sits idly in our driveway, and I wonder about it. We only really need one car, so why keep it around?