In Case of Rejection

CHAPTER TWO

Matthew was uncharacteristically elated to be back out on Main Street, confronted by the familiar sights and sounds of midday. The sun was falling towards the west, but the air around him was just as hot and dry as it was early in the afternoon. He took long, determined strides forward, now with a skip in his step, relishing in his new purpose.

He walked at his own pace, maintaining appropriate street etiquette -- head high, shoulders forward. Anyone that saw him on Main Street would know that he wasn't looking to buy and focus their attention elsewhere. You had to be very ignorant to the vendors, stress the idea that you weren't looking for their services. The people did all they could to stay afloat, and the First Five sectors couldn't care less.

He held the letter tightly in his hand, almost wishing that he hadn't made it in time. Maybe then he wouldn't have had that encounter with Stone, which still made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. Maybe he wouldn't be feeling guilt for something he hadn't the slightest control over. He found it was like that most of the time, even with his friends. There were things they wouldn't understand that he did -- things he wouldn't ever be able to explain. Olive was the only one who came close, and even then, words oftentimes got lost in translation between them.

He wondered about her then, and if she was where he had left her so suddenly, on C Block. The trek to Mike's was always worth it, but the layout was undoubtedly inconvenient. Mike's Repair on Main Street was a ways down from Matthew's apartment on B Block, one whole intersection away from C Block (the longest street in Sector 18), but barely a hundred yards from the school, just along the Sector 18 checkpoint and transport center at the far end of the city. Far for Sector 18, anyway: the whole place was barely thirty miles across, forty wide -- rectangular from an aerial point of view. The lower the sector, the more cramped and impoverished they came, a conglomerate of apartments enclosed by towering walls of cement.

Out of the twenty-five still standing, Sector 18 was one of very few in the lower percentile that wasn't completely wiped out after the six year long depression. Still, they were getting there, and Matthew was reminded everyday, passing the desperate vendors and knowing that somewhere among them, his mother was shut away under the fluorescent lights of a shop just like Mike's. He looked over his shoulder suddenly, almost like she was standing directly behind him.

He marched onward. As he was thinking to himself, his mind had started to itch with questions about the letter in his hands. He almost couldn't take the anticipation, a strange, antsy feeling running through his veins. He walked a beat faster.

He had an airtight routine set specially for Tuesdays, aside from the occasional fluke here and there. Tuesdays were the only days that Matthew and his friends could convene outside of school; the designated location, the Arcade on C Block. It was a moment to meet sans the watchfulness that accompanied going to school, and the occasion was highly regarded by all involved. They were all Olive's friends first, but they took a liking to Matthew too in the end. It wasn't that he had trouble making friends -- it was that most of the time, he didn't get the chance. After class on Tuesdays, they'd meet and travel up together.

The Arcade was in constant occupancy, a lot like the clutter on Main Street, but with kids his age. Mostly kids from school, all in similar situations. The Arcade had become something of a sacred place to them -- it was the only spot in all of Sector 18 that had retained a thread of normalcy since the walls went up around them and the wall collapsed. Matthew wasn't alive to see the walls when they first erected, but that's what his Mom had told him. She visited the Arcade before him, even said they used to play live music. Matthew couldn't imagine what that was like.

Even the Bots there were tame. They stood on either side of the central concession stand, unmoving most of the time. Matthew had only ever seen them take action once before in his many years in attendance, and it was to stop a kid from stealing. Even then, Matthew could hardly remember the incident.