Before (The Sensitives) Page 2

  But no matter how tempting it was to do just that, I couldn’t bring myself to actually ping my mother.

  “If we refuse to go, it may impact our placements.”

  “Really, Lark? That’s what you’re worried about? A test we don’t even take for another three years?”

  It did worry me. After all, getting a top job placement in Agriculture is why I pushed myself so hard in school.

  But it wasn’t why I didn’t want to go and Beck knew it.

  “You have nothing to worry about.” His olive green eyes studied my face. “You’re the top student in our class, you’re a hard worker, and…” He blushed. “You’re pretty. Malin is going to have a hard time finding something wrong with you.”

  “But what if that isn’t enough?” So far, all I’ve ever been is a disappointment to Mother. The way she’s always ignored me was testament to that.

  A dark shadow crossed Beck’s face. “Malin doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

  #

  Whistles ring out around us and I crane my neck to get a better view of the long, main table in the middle of the room. Towering arrangements of flowers and crystals climb toward the ceiling, dwarfing the guests seated below. The air shimmers as it passes through the crystals.

  Twenty chairs line each side of the table and all but three are occupied. Many of the table’s guests–the Head of State and various department ministers–I recognize from daily wallscreen broadcasts.

  Everyone else is most likely Annalise’s family.

  Beck and I should be sitting with them. I may have never attended a binding before, but I do know it’s customary for the new couple’s family to sit at the main table. And yet, Mother placed us out here on the floor, as far from the table as possible.

  I shift in my seat and my dress crinkles. Under the table, Beck grabs my hand and squeezes it, slowing my pulse to a lazy rhythm. The tension I’ve been carrying around all night fades.

  The music shifts once again to a steady drumming. Our tablemates rise to their feet, whistling and clapping in time.

  As the noise becomes louder, so does the thundering of my pulse in my ears. Panic attacks–that’s what Bethina called them. Social anxiety. And it’s gotten worse over the course of the past few months. But even if it has a name, it’s still incredibly embarrassing.

  No matter how hard I try to fight it, the room sways around me and my legs wobble. As always, Beck’s at my side, his solid arm pulling me to his chest and his fingers tracing circles across the back of my hand.

  “It’s okay, Birdie. Just relax.”

  But this isn’t like a normal attack, instead of feeling scared, I’m angry. Angry that I’ve been sentenced to the corner. Angry that Mother’s guests are rude to Beck. And angry that my mother hasn’t said so much as ‘hello’ to me.

  As the shouts of “best wishes” come nearer to us, Beck’s body stiffen. Can’t say I blame him–he and my brother, Callum, have never gotten along.

  “Here they come,” Beck says in my ear.

  My eyes skip past my brother, eager to have my first glimpse of my new sister-in-law. It’s customary for the woman to stay veiled during the ceremony, so I have no idea what she looks like since Mother didn’t include a picture with the invitation. My guess is she’s in the center of the gaggle of girls–most likely her housemates–just behind Callum.

  As they near us and the girls fall away, fragments of Annalise come into view: thick, inky black hair; a milky white shoulder; a flash of her pale violet dress; ruby lips stretched into a wide smile. And finally, two large, blue eyes that land on my face and light up in recognition.

  If I’m lucky, I may end up half as beautiful.

  Next to me, Beck stands slackjawed. I elbow him in the gut. “Don’t gawk. She’s coming this way.”

  “Lark?” she says in a light, musical voice. “What are you doing out here? You should be at the main table.”

  When she notices Beck, her mouth parts slightly and she raises her eyebrows. “Oh! I didn’t realize you had come also.” Her once warm smile is now strained. “How…lovely.”

  Without waiting for Beck or I to say anything, she grabs my hand and pulls me away. “Malin? Can Lark sit at our table?”

  The crowd around my mother parts and she glides toward us, waving to the guests. Her smile is both warm, and yet conveys an air of authority. And every person in this room loves her.

  I hold my breath as she comes closer. Please look at me. At least acknowledge you know I’m here.

  She pauses before us and my lungs decide to stop working.

  “Lark, Beck.”

  “Good evening, Malin,” Beck says. His voice sounds rougher than normal and not at all happy.

  I lick my dry lips and swallow to moisten my throat. “Hello, Mother.”

  All those hours of practicing, and this is what you say? Really, Lark?

  She places her soft palm against the side of my cheek. “Darling girl, there’s no need to be nervous. You’re among friends.”

  Beck shifts his weight forward and bumps into me. I teeter on my silly high-heeled booties, but Annalise steadies me.

  “It’s a pleasure to see you this evening, Mother.”

  “It’s a pleasure to see you too, Lark.” She laughs, a sweet, rolling laugh that fills me with dread. She shouldn’t be laughing at my greeting.

  Annalise wraps her arm through mine, as if we have been life-long friends, instead of meeting just moments earlier. “Can we move Lark to our table? I’d love for her to join us.”

  Mother’s gaze flicks between Beck and me. “Surely, you’re more comfortable here?”

  Table Ten is hidden away from the action of the main room. And despite the slight of not being included at the head table, it feels safe. Still, a part of me wants to sit with Mother. Where Beck and I belong.

  From behind me, I hear Beck say, “It would be an honor to sit with you, Malin.”

  Annalise gasps softly and her arm tightens around me. Her presence is like a lead weight pressing down on me, holding me in place.

  After a moment of silence, Mother bats her large blue eyes and smiles. “Of course.” She touches her wristlet. “Carter, have two more settings added to my table.”

  “Mother,” I say with a shaking voice. “We’re happy here. No need to change things for us.” I don’t want her to think I’m fussy. Or difficult.

  “Come now, Love. Don’t be silly,” Mother says, linking her arm through my free one so that I’m sandwiched between her and Annalise. “You too, Beck.”

  Beck looks first to me and then Mother. “Yes, of course,” he says too brightly.

  Annalise and Mother exchange knowing glances.

  I should be excited, but all I feel is worry.

  #

  Every so often, my legs shake. I’d like to say it’s from standing in my shoes, but the truth is, it’s probably nerves. Standing in the receiving line, next to Mother, isn’t exactly what I planned on doing–I never practiced for it.

  I peer through the crowd at Beck sitting alone at the main table. He opted out of the line, but I wasn’t given the option. Mother simply informed me I would be joining my family and Annalise’s at the greeting. And once Mother commands something, that’s the way it is.

  When he sees me staring, Beck flashes a smile in my direction. My internal jitters slow down a bit, but I really wish he were next to me instead of across the room.

  More guests move past us, leaving small gifts on the table before Annalise. And more people clasp my hand and tell Mother how glad they are to see me here, in the family line, where I belong. Their words, meant to compliment, somehow have the opposite effect and I feel like even more of a fraud.

  I fidget with my handbag. The gift from Beck and me is tucked inside. But after seeing the pile of impressively wrapped presents, I’m not entirely sure I want to give it to my brother and his new mate. After all, who really needs potholders when you have servants to cook for you?

  Every so often
, Mother leans into Annalise and whispers something I can’t hear. I’m wedged between Mother and Callum, and he’s constantly looking over my head at the two of them. Like our mother, he’s blond and tall. But he has none of her charisma. He’s hard, cruel, and smug.

  And from the scowl on his face and the dirty looks he keeps giving me, he isn’t happy about my placement in the line.

  “I’m impressed, Lark,” my brother says. “You left your lap dog behind. Perhaps you’re finally coming to your senses.”

  I swivel my head to get a better look at my brother. His lips curl back, exposing his gleaming teeth.

  “What?”

  “Oh come now. You’re nearly sixteen, surely you’ve–”

  “Callum! That’s enough.” Mother snaps and the line of well-wishers grinds to a silent halt. “You will not berate your sister.” Her eyes flash with agitation. “And you will treat her birth-mate with respect.”

  The bright lights and too curious stares eat away at whatever shreds of confidence I have left. I want to slink away and never come back, but doing so would only draw attention to the fact Mother’s reprimand seems to be not only for Callum, but for everyone in the room.

  My brother’s glare burns the side of my face. He hates Beck and I have no idea why. The State paired us because we’re perfect for each other. Like Annalise must be for Callum. Everyone knows State doesn’t make mistakes.

  “Beck,” Mother calls out. “Can you come here, please?”

  Even though he looks calm, I can tell he’s upset from the way he rolls his shoulders and holds his head at a slight angle. When he passes through the crowd, people step back, out of his way, as if he were toxic.

  It breaks my heart to see him treated so poorly.

  “Enough!” Mother exclaims. Fear rolls through the crowd. I’ve never seen Mother act anything but refined or polished. And I’ve never heard of her losing her temper like this.

  When Beck reaches my side, he juts out his arm as if to wrap it around me, but at the last minute, shoves his hand in his pocket. A chill runs through me.

  “Good word, Mother! Are you going to let them behave like that? It’s disgraceful.” My brother’s words cut through the silence.

  “Like what?” I ask, moving closer to Beck so that our elbows touch. Anger builds in my chest and pushes against my ribcage. The lights in the room flicker and a collection of hushed whispers whips through the room. “We’re just standing here. I’m sorry if you don’t like us.”

  “Him, Lark. I don’t like him.”

  My blood boils and I narrow my eyes. How dare he. I wiggle my fingers against my thigh and, without thinking, raise them to my lips, but stop when my hand is at chest level. My fingers are splayed wide, and I’m not sure what to do, so I grab my bow.

  Callum jumps back, his eyes wide with fear. His reaction is so unexpected, I grin. “You don’t like Beck?” I say, my voice louder than I expected. Right now, I don’t care who hears me.

  “Why? Because everyone else does?”

  As the words leave my mouth, I realize how silly I sound. No one here seems to like him, or at the very least, they’re merely tolerating him. But why? What has he done besides not get along with Callum?

  My smile fades and I clench my jaw. Did my brother spread lies about Beck? That must be it. No one has ever not liked Beck.

  “You…you…” I stutter as my thoughts form in my head.

  Beck reaches out and grabs my hand. My racing heartbeat slows. “It’s okay. I know he doesn’t like me.”

  I nod and glance toward the door. “Can we leave?” I mutter.

  Mother sighs and offers me her hand. “Walk with me, Love?” When she sees me look to Beck, she adds, “Will you be okay on your own?”

  Before he can answer, Mother guides me toward the door. My stomach sinks and I instinctively turn my head back to where Beck stands, looking confused and lost. Like earlier, he’s surrounded by a void that no one wants to cross. Only this time, he looks torn between doing what she asks and following us. I’d rather not leave him, but I can’t stay in that room.

  “Don’t worry about him, Love. He’ll be fine. I promise.” Mother pats my hand and leads me out of the ballroom and into a long hallway. “No one would dare hurt him.”

  My eyes grow large. “Hurt him? Why would anyone want to hurt Beck?”

  A soft laugh tumbles out of Mother. “They don’t. I simply meant…” She waves her hand dismissively. “Callum. I know how he’s treated the two of you in the past.”

  We step into a pristine white hallway. The pale wooden floors bleed into the soft white walls which in turn become a series of arches soaring above us. The only color comes from an occasional swish of pale blue accenting a molding or curve.

  At the end of the hallway, Mother gestures to an open doorway. “The Library,” she says.

  In my school books, I’ve read how libraries were once filled with dusty tomes of paper. Dark places where people toiled for hours at small desks and under bad lighting. Mother’s library couldn’t be more different. The blank walls indicate the presence of dozens of wall screens and even though night has fallen, the entire room is swathed in warm light.

  “Please, sit,” she says as she arranges herself in an armchair.

  My heart hammers hard and I’m positive she can hear it. Like most children, I’ve never been alone with my mother. But I’ve dreamt of this moment and now that it’s here, I’m afraid it won’t live up to my dreams.

  “I hear you’re top of your class.”

  It takes every ounce of self-control to not touch my lips, so I sit on my hands. “I am.” I smile before adding, “Beck is second.”

  “And you have a talent in agriculture?”

  “Mr. Trevern–he’s my teacher–he says if I continue the way I have, there’s no doubt I’ll place into Agriculture.” My voice sounds foreign to my ears. Too eager. Too excited.

  Mother sighs and the sound hurtles through the air, straight into my heart, leaving a vague sensation of disappointment in its path. “Is that what you want?”

  I nod. While I do well in all my classes, it’s agriculture that excites me. There’s nothing I love more than working side-by-side with Mr. Trevern on complex cross-breeding problems.

  “Love, look around you. Did you see all the dignitaries here this evening? Do you know why they stare at you with such curiosity and ignore your brother?”

  “Because I’m with Beck?”

  Mother’s lips purse and she shakes her head. “No. Because every one of them knows the promise you hold–on your own. You don’t need Beck to make you special.” She smiles. “It would be a shame to waste your natural abilities digging in dirt.”

  Natural abilities? “Agriculture is what I’m good at. Beck is the one who wants to go into Diplomacy.”

  Mother leans forward. Her eyes bore into me. “You love the party don’t you? The music and dancing? This could be your life in a few short years.”

  “At my binding?”

  Exasperation crosses Mother’s face and a sense of foolishness fills me. “That too. But I’m talking about your career. Look at Annalise. She’s going to rise rapidly. The women of our family always do.”

  I’m trying–really trying–to follow Mother’s line of reasoning, but she’s lost me. Annalise isn’t a direct descendant of a Founder and she’s only been part of our family for a few hours.

  Mother sits back and twirls a long strand of pearls around her finger. “Oh Love, I suppose you’re not ready yet. I had hoped things would change for you today.”

  Disappointment wells in me. First, I cause a scene in the reception line and now I’m unable to tell Mother what she wants to hear, because I don’t understand what she’s asking. This is not how I wanted our first real conversation to go.

  “I’ll try, Mother. Whatever you want. I’ll try.” And I mean it. At this very moment, pleasing my mother is all I want.

  A wide smile stretches across her face. “You will won’t you?”<
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  I nod, eager to do whatever she asks.

  “You’re a darling girl, Lark. I couldn’t be happier with you.” She stands and stares down at me. “But now, you must hurry back to the party. Everyone needs to see how happy you are. Can you do that? Show everyone how much you love being here?”

  A weird fog settles over my brain and I blink my eyes in an attempt to stay awake. I felt fine minutes ago, but now, all I want to do is curl up in bed and sleep.

  “I’m…very tired.”

  Mother’s hypnotizing blue eyes sparkle. “No. You are definitely not tired. You want to dance.”