Wilde Card, page 2
“Not another one,” Tia muttered, slamming her book shut. A second later her phone rang. It was an old model, but just like the TV, still very expensive. She’d only really wanted one to keep in contact with her parents when they were swamped with work.
“Did you see it?” Kal asked.
“Rubbish.”
“I know, I know. Just when you think it can’t get any more manipulative,” he sighed.
They were coming across ads like this on a weekly basis. Or, if Tia was calling a spade a spade, emotional blackmail. The world’s population had been decimated. This had led the country to try and convince people to procreate. Their tactics infuriated Tia. It would be women who would have to suffer through the pregnancy, not the men who ran the ads. It would be women dealing with the complications - of which there were many, post-war. And always, the ads portrayed girls barely out of college as happy, young mothers.
Tia called it the ‘baby culture’.
“It’s only so long before they’re no longer suggesting, but enforcing,” she said, muting the advert and rewinding it. Kal made a noise of agreement but didn’t say anything. It was a sombre thought to think of strangers controlling their lives on such a personal level. They knew of a time when women weren’t allowed to vote or have abortions; of a time where it was actually illegal to do most things as a woman. The control over women hadn’t stopped, it had just morphed.
“Listen, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Kal interrupted her thoughts.
“Yeah,” she hung up, distracted.
Something tugged at her throat and she realised it was sadness. She’d been feeling off-kilter all day. It might have been the idea that her city hadn't moved on at all. Everything was still grey, broken and cold. Nineteen years later and London was still just as hollow as it had been at the start. There was a part of her that wanted to do something, that wanted to change the way things were. It was like everyone was too busy pretending they were happy to see that they needed to fix things.
She sighed and turned the TV off.
◆◆◆
Her bedroom window overlooked the wall of the neighbouring house. Grey, worn away and very unattractive; it was a view that Tia had grown to love. Between the window and the house itself was a slim space barely wide enough to be called a path. The window itself opened inwards and if she leaned out far enough, she could press her palm to the wall. This small gap was the same torturous space Kal managed to squeeze his broad shoulders through in order to tap on the window. Every time, she made fun of the way he had to shuffle back out even as she slithered out behind him. She did so now, in fact, and was rewarded with a rude remark. She passed through easily, being at least a third of his width, until she was standing on the cusp of her parents’ property.
“You wouldn’t have to do that if you just remembered to bring your phone,” she scolded him.
Kal surprised her with a sheepish smile so delicate it looked like it was pasted onto his youthful, dark skinned face. “Have you seen how small that thing is? I lose it in my own hand.”
She rolled her eyes. He could be forgetful when he wanted to be. She tucked her hands into the pockets of her jeans. It was almost midnight and the air was chilled enough to bring goosebumps to her skin. He noticed and shrugged off his jacket. He was wearing more layers underneath, as if he had only brought it for this specific reason. As she slipped grateful arms into the warmth of its folds, Kal smirked. “You wouldn’t have to do that if you just remembered to bring your jacket.”
“Shut up.” She didn’t mention to him that she had given it away to a homeless girl.
They fell into a comfortable silence, walking side by side, heading for nowhere in particular. They always headed for nowhere in particular when they had their midnight walks. Sometimes Tia couldn’t sleep and Kal always seemed to know when she needed him. They snuck out when his mother was working late or had taken her sleeping pills and wandered the streets, talking about everything and nothing. Tia always felt a little guilty about sneaking out but Jessie didn’t like her being out late, even at her age. It kind of ruined the whole point of self-reflection when her mother was blowing up her phone.
Above them, the moon was a yellow, waxy crescent. Around it, clouds were boiling, dark with rain and menacing. Tia hated rain. She turned to Kal, spotting an umbrella in his back pocket. She smiled to herself; he was always so prepared for a change in the weather. She plucked it from his jeans and swung it around her finger.
“So what’s on your mind?” she asked.
Kal shook his head, his hair flying in every direction. “Nothing. I just couldn’t sleep.”
She raised an eyebrow. He saw her do it, chose to ignore it. Tia resisted the urge to hit him over the head with what was clearly his mother’s umbrella; pink with a pattern of roses. Kal was her best friend but even though he trusted her, he found it hard to express himself sometimes. He had a habit of immediately dismissing everything and then resisting until she dragged it out of him. Well, she wasn’t in the mood for it tonight.
“Lie to me again and I’ll tell your crush you write poetry for her.”
He swung his big head around so fast she was surprised he didn’t give himself whiplash. “You wouldn’t dare.”
She gave him a look that said, very clearly: try me. His attempts at poetry were an embarrassment they both wished Tia hadn't discovered. He huffed.
“Do you ever wonder...what’s the point?” He glanced at her, one thick lip between his teeth. “Like...of doing this? Of studying for a degree that you had no real choice in, of going to work for the government, making no real change?”
Tia chewed over this. They were passing the park, a familiar landmark, with its rusted slide and lopsided swing. She had played on that same swing when she was younger, squealing to go higher even though a part of her was always scared it would snap. Now, whenever she walked past, she never saw any children there. Now it was a resting place for a few of the homeless who camped under the small, thin shelter. There were several lumps in the darkness and Kal’s hand was suddenly at her elbow, a warning to any who might get ideas. She resisted the urge to shake him off. He meant well but she hated when men made her feel weak. If it ever came to it, she would protect herself. Or so she liked to think.
“Well, I did choose biochem,” she replied, vacantly.
He grunted. “You know what I mean. There’s no point in art anymore, no aspects for creative writing or music, for example. Our choices are limited. There’s no such thing as creativity anymore and everyone is being herded. Doesn’t it ever just get to be too much for you?”
“Is it getting to be too much for you?” She tilted her head. Was he saying that he wanted to drop out? Kal didn’t usually talk like this. He was dependable, responsible, intelligent. He knew where he needed to be, he knew what he had to do to get there, and he was doing it. So why the sudden philosophising? “You didn’t get Julie pregnant, did you?” she asked suddenly.
Kal had a massive crush on one of the new chemistry lecturers. He spluttered. “I’m honestly not even going to acknowledge what you just said.” A few seconds crawled by and he shook his head. “Forget I even said anything.”
“No, no. I’m sorry. I’m just...not used to hearing you say things like that.” She stopped, pulling on his arm to halt his steps. “Is it getting to be too much?”
Kal’s soft eyes were troubled. He stuck his hand into his hair, tightening and loosening in a way that looked painful. “My mum.” He looked lost. “She wants me to come and see her at work, to talk about interning with one of her friends. It’s all she can talk about lately, how we’re coming to the end of our second year and how I should be planning my time. She bought me a suit today, Tia. For a job I don’t even have yet.”
Tia sighed. His mother, Dakota, was arguably one of the stiffest, most ambitious women she had ever met. Dakota, an engineer, had a lot of expectations for her son and she wasn’t shy about making it known. He was smart all on his own but she pushed him, pushed him, pushed him. Kal was always attending study groups, private tutoring, extra credit sessions - for Dakota’s benefit. Unlike Tia, he hadn’t chosen biochem out of love but because his mum knew many people in the field. All focus was on his future and he wasn’t allowed to step a foot out of place.
“And let me guess, you didn’t tell her to be patient. You agreed to meet her friend and to wear the monkey suit.”
He snorted. “You’ve met my mother, right? Or is this just a ploy to get me to remind you that she adores you?”
“She doesn’t adore me.” Except she really did. “She just knows my dad.”
Andy worked in the same building as Dakota. Even though his field was biochemistry he had lunch with her sometimes. Tia hadn’t realised who Dakota was until she’d become close to Kal. She’d been surprised to link the two as mother and son. They couldn't have been more different if they’d tried.
Kal started walking again, returning his protective hand to her elbow. “I’m just a little stressed. A little bit trapped. I feel like those mice we studied last year, being herded through a maze with the promise of satisfaction.”
“You’re so kind, Kal. If anyone can effect change, it will be you.”
“I just find myself thinking, sometimes, about the things Natalia and her band of merry men say. We follow this path and we end up being another suit, and then what? We grind ourselves to the bone but nothing gets better, does it? The rich stay rich and the poor just get poorer and no one does anything about it. We raise another generation of mini-mes and the cycle starts again. Then I feel bad for having the money to do these things because they don’t. I mean, “ he spluttered. “How is that fair? I didn’t make these people homeless. I didn’t ruin their businesses. And if I stray from the chosen path, my own future is in jeopardy.”
“Kal-”
“Then we’re all in the damn gutter,” he said aggressively.
Tia paused, giving him time to calm down. He was flushed, chest heaving. This had obviously been playing on his mind for some time. She could have kicked herself for not realising sooner. Like him, she knew how frustrating it was to have a certain group attack them for their family’s wealth. It was a helpless kind of feeling to know that someone disliked you for no reason other than what you could afford and they couldn’t. She had become somewhat immune to their comments but Kal obviously hadn’t. Of all of them, he deserved to hear it the least. He was the kind one, the one who offered loose change to those who begged, the one who never threw away food because someone else would appreciate it.
“Don’t let those idiots hurt your work ethic with their misplaced anger.”
“It’s not about my work ethic. I’m just...tired.”
“If you don’t want to do this, then don’t. Life is really too short.”
Tia couldn’t pretend to understand what he felt about his studies. She had grown up with Andy’s influence, his love for his field and the interesting world around them. She had helped him with his experiments, watched as he created small miracles in their living room. She liked learning and she had her parents’ full support in her journey. There was no pressure besides the expectations she had set for herself. She had a lot of choices. Thinking about it, she couldn’t imagine how things might have been different if it had been the opposite.
Kal obviously believed in her naivety as well. He rolled his eyes and ground his teeth together. “She would actually kick me out.”
“You could come and live with me,” she laughed, trying to cheer his spirits.
“I’m sure Andy would appreciate that…”
“He adores you. He would love to have another male in the house.”
Kal chuckled. Then he sighed and patted her arm. “I’m sorry. It’s just been a stressful night. I’m sure I’ll be fine after I get some sleep.”
“It’s hard, but we can do this.” She looked up at him, channeling her most optimistic smile. “We have bright, bright futures ahead of us.”
“You’re like...unflappable.”
“I’m actually quite flappable, I think you’ll find, when it comes to people messing with my best friend. I love you too much to see you like this.”
“What are you gonna do? Kung-fu kick my mum?”
Tia made a dramatic and inaccurate gesture. Kal shook his head again and raised his eyebrows. “Dude. That’s my mum.”
3 - Catch 22
The university was essentially made up of four blocks; the humanities, the social sciences, the arts and sports. It was designed in the shape of a huge, concrete semi-circle, and in the centre of it stood the communal library. It wasn't pretty but what it lacked in elegance it made up for in depth. The library held all of the literature that had survived the fires of the war and was currently the biggest in the city. There were plaques everywhere advertising this for anyone who was interested in knowing, though it was probably only the scholarship kids who bothered. Beside the library was the university reception.
Tia disliked her supervisor, Summer. She disliked her a lot. Sadly, her supervisor was also the Dean. She hadn’t been allowed to reassign so she was stuck with Summer, who was anything but warm. The supervisors were responsible for peer marking, feedback, overseeing placements and just being available for general help. As much as she hated to rely on her, Tia had to if she wanted to graduate. She’d worked too hard to let her ruin it now.
Sighing, she pushed through the double doors leading to reception and saw that Summer’s secretary was standing at the photocopier.
“I’ll be one second,” she sang, popping gum between her candyfloss pink lips as she turned to glance over her shoulder.
Tia had enough encounters with Lydia the receptionist to know this was far from the truth. Lydia liked to do things in her own time. She had a degree in Psychology so Tia could never figure out why Lydia was content to be a receptionist. And a receptionist to the biggest bitch in the building, at that. She claimed she was happy so Tia never argued that Lydia could be using her brain to help people, although she was always tempted. Plus, Lydia kind of made her visits to see Summer slightly less torturous - she didn’t really want her to go.
Tia leaned her hip against the desk and focused on the two girls who were mounting a display on the wall. In between the clicks of a staple gun, she could hear snippets of their conversation. She listened, because she was fabulously nosy.
“…Meeting…said she had the most initiative they’d ever…passionate….rebellion because she understands…next week….everyone just loves Talia,” Girl-In-Blue said.
They had their backs to her, short legs in even shorter skirts. She was used to being an anomaly amongst the gaggles of small, appropriately sized females. Something must have happened to the female genome after the war because it had produced a whole generation of teeny-sized babies. Tia had been the odd one out her whole life. She shifted onto her elbows to hear more because - if she wasn’t mistaken - they were discussing Natalia and the ‘Rebellion’. It wasn't often that you heard anything about it other than rumours. The rebellion was a dangerous topic; if it did in fact exist in the capacity that it was said to, to be a member was likely forbidden.
It was said to be a secret organisation that had formed against the war time government and some very bad decisions. Tia had also heard rumours that Natalia was an important member. If true, it wouldn’t have been a surprise; there was nothing she liked more than making people uncomfortable. Tia could attest to that. What did surprise her was the hearsay about Natalia getting involved in almost every charity in the city. Tia didn’t know what to do with that one. It was exciting, of course, to think of an organisation like that existing but what was the point of it? She couldn’t think of any way that a rebellion would benefit the country, least of all one which involved foul-mouthed Archer.
“I’m telling you, once she gets started, she’s amazing. Talia could convince anyone.”
“Did she talk to anyone?” Butterfly-Girl asked, wide-eyed.
Tia couldn’t help snorting at her lovesick tone. They turned around but quick as a flash she had pulled her phone out and was pretending to text. Hesitantly, the girls went back to the display and Tia reeled in her amusement. Natalia, the greatest narcissist she'd ever known, speak unnecessarily to anyone who didn’t serve a purpose? What a joke. Natalia made it clear whenever she got the chance that she didn’t appreciate girls who gossiped. Especially girls who wore sparkly butterfly clips in their hair. Tia felt sorry for the little fan club.
The girl in blue - the serious one - was obviously more serious about the ‘Rebellion’. She was the kind of person who spoke about it in revered tones, so exalted you could almost hear the capitalisation of the word. Well, good for them. At least they believed in something, even if it was something that didn’t exist. Looking at her watch - a chunky black object which barely served its purpose - five whole minutes had passed and Lydia had disappeared. Frustrated, Tia skirted around her desk to get to the door beside it. It led to an anteroom with a rather distasteful couch and a small table with leaflets for a limited number of societies. She breezed straight through, letting herself into Summer’s office.
She faltered, an odd noise gurgling out of her throat. Summer Davidson, the Dean, was sitting on the edge of the desk with her back to the door. Standing behind that desk, kissing her - the Dean - was Natalia Archer. She was leaning over Summer, determined fingers working against the small of her back, caged in by her legs. Tia’s jaw sagged and she lost hold of her phone. It clattered to the floor, skidding towards the desk. Natalia’s eyes snapped open as she scrambled to pick it back up. As shocked as Tia was, she found a second to note that Natalia had closed her eyes.
Summer gasped. She had realised that someone else was in the room. She pushed Natalia away and she slid off the desk, straightening her skirt. When she saw it was just Tia, she visibly relaxed, as if she had been expecting someone more important. Rude, Tia couldn’t help but think. Summer was young, probably in her early thirties, with smooth skin and a wide brow. She had a proud nose, thick hair and a stinky attitude.
“Did you see it?” Kal asked.
“Rubbish.”
“I know, I know. Just when you think it can’t get any more manipulative,” he sighed.
They were coming across ads like this on a weekly basis. Or, if Tia was calling a spade a spade, emotional blackmail. The world’s population had been decimated. This had led the country to try and convince people to procreate. Their tactics infuriated Tia. It would be women who would have to suffer through the pregnancy, not the men who ran the ads. It would be women dealing with the complications - of which there were many, post-war. And always, the ads portrayed girls barely out of college as happy, young mothers.
Tia called it the ‘baby culture’.
“It’s only so long before they’re no longer suggesting, but enforcing,” she said, muting the advert and rewinding it. Kal made a noise of agreement but didn’t say anything. It was a sombre thought to think of strangers controlling their lives on such a personal level. They knew of a time when women weren’t allowed to vote or have abortions; of a time where it was actually illegal to do most things as a woman. The control over women hadn’t stopped, it had just morphed.
“Listen, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Kal interrupted her thoughts.
“Yeah,” she hung up, distracted.
Something tugged at her throat and she realised it was sadness. She’d been feeling off-kilter all day. It might have been the idea that her city hadn't moved on at all. Everything was still grey, broken and cold. Nineteen years later and London was still just as hollow as it had been at the start. There was a part of her that wanted to do something, that wanted to change the way things were. It was like everyone was too busy pretending they were happy to see that they needed to fix things.
She sighed and turned the TV off.
◆◆◆
Her bedroom window overlooked the wall of the neighbouring house. Grey, worn away and very unattractive; it was a view that Tia had grown to love. Between the window and the house itself was a slim space barely wide enough to be called a path. The window itself opened inwards and if she leaned out far enough, she could press her palm to the wall. This small gap was the same torturous space Kal managed to squeeze his broad shoulders through in order to tap on the window. Every time, she made fun of the way he had to shuffle back out even as she slithered out behind him. She did so now, in fact, and was rewarded with a rude remark. She passed through easily, being at least a third of his width, until she was standing on the cusp of her parents’ property.
“You wouldn’t have to do that if you just remembered to bring your phone,” she scolded him.
Kal surprised her with a sheepish smile so delicate it looked like it was pasted onto his youthful, dark skinned face. “Have you seen how small that thing is? I lose it in my own hand.”
She rolled her eyes. He could be forgetful when he wanted to be. She tucked her hands into the pockets of her jeans. It was almost midnight and the air was chilled enough to bring goosebumps to her skin. He noticed and shrugged off his jacket. He was wearing more layers underneath, as if he had only brought it for this specific reason. As she slipped grateful arms into the warmth of its folds, Kal smirked. “You wouldn’t have to do that if you just remembered to bring your jacket.”
“Shut up.” She didn’t mention to him that she had given it away to a homeless girl.
They fell into a comfortable silence, walking side by side, heading for nowhere in particular. They always headed for nowhere in particular when they had their midnight walks. Sometimes Tia couldn’t sleep and Kal always seemed to know when she needed him. They snuck out when his mother was working late or had taken her sleeping pills and wandered the streets, talking about everything and nothing. Tia always felt a little guilty about sneaking out but Jessie didn’t like her being out late, even at her age. It kind of ruined the whole point of self-reflection when her mother was blowing up her phone.
Above them, the moon was a yellow, waxy crescent. Around it, clouds were boiling, dark with rain and menacing. Tia hated rain. She turned to Kal, spotting an umbrella in his back pocket. She smiled to herself; he was always so prepared for a change in the weather. She plucked it from his jeans and swung it around her finger.
“So what’s on your mind?” she asked.
Kal shook his head, his hair flying in every direction. “Nothing. I just couldn’t sleep.”
She raised an eyebrow. He saw her do it, chose to ignore it. Tia resisted the urge to hit him over the head with what was clearly his mother’s umbrella; pink with a pattern of roses. Kal was her best friend but even though he trusted her, he found it hard to express himself sometimes. He had a habit of immediately dismissing everything and then resisting until she dragged it out of him. Well, she wasn’t in the mood for it tonight.
“Lie to me again and I’ll tell your crush you write poetry for her.”
He swung his big head around so fast she was surprised he didn’t give himself whiplash. “You wouldn’t dare.”
She gave him a look that said, very clearly: try me. His attempts at poetry were an embarrassment they both wished Tia hadn't discovered. He huffed.
“Do you ever wonder...what’s the point?” He glanced at her, one thick lip between his teeth. “Like...of doing this? Of studying for a degree that you had no real choice in, of going to work for the government, making no real change?”
Tia chewed over this. They were passing the park, a familiar landmark, with its rusted slide and lopsided swing. She had played on that same swing when she was younger, squealing to go higher even though a part of her was always scared it would snap. Now, whenever she walked past, she never saw any children there. Now it was a resting place for a few of the homeless who camped under the small, thin shelter. There were several lumps in the darkness and Kal’s hand was suddenly at her elbow, a warning to any who might get ideas. She resisted the urge to shake him off. He meant well but she hated when men made her feel weak. If it ever came to it, she would protect herself. Or so she liked to think.
“Well, I did choose biochem,” she replied, vacantly.
He grunted. “You know what I mean. There’s no point in art anymore, no aspects for creative writing or music, for example. Our choices are limited. There’s no such thing as creativity anymore and everyone is being herded. Doesn’t it ever just get to be too much for you?”
“Is it getting to be too much for you?” She tilted her head. Was he saying that he wanted to drop out? Kal didn’t usually talk like this. He was dependable, responsible, intelligent. He knew where he needed to be, he knew what he had to do to get there, and he was doing it. So why the sudden philosophising? “You didn’t get Julie pregnant, did you?” she asked suddenly.
Kal had a massive crush on one of the new chemistry lecturers. He spluttered. “I’m honestly not even going to acknowledge what you just said.” A few seconds crawled by and he shook his head. “Forget I even said anything.”
“No, no. I’m sorry. I’m just...not used to hearing you say things like that.” She stopped, pulling on his arm to halt his steps. “Is it getting to be too much?”
Kal’s soft eyes were troubled. He stuck his hand into his hair, tightening and loosening in a way that looked painful. “My mum.” He looked lost. “She wants me to come and see her at work, to talk about interning with one of her friends. It’s all she can talk about lately, how we’re coming to the end of our second year and how I should be planning my time. She bought me a suit today, Tia. For a job I don’t even have yet.”
Tia sighed. His mother, Dakota, was arguably one of the stiffest, most ambitious women she had ever met. Dakota, an engineer, had a lot of expectations for her son and she wasn’t shy about making it known. He was smart all on his own but she pushed him, pushed him, pushed him. Kal was always attending study groups, private tutoring, extra credit sessions - for Dakota’s benefit. Unlike Tia, he hadn’t chosen biochem out of love but because his mum knew many people in the field. All focus was on his future and he wasn’t allowed to step a foot out of place.
“And let me guess, you didn’t tell her to be patient. You agreed to meet her friend and to wear the monkey suit.”
He snorted. “You’ve met my mother, right? Or is this just a ploy to get me to remind you that she adores you?”
“She doesn’t adore me.” Except she really did. “She just knows my dad.”
Andy worked in the same building as Dakota. Even though his field was biochemistry he had lunch with her sometimes. Tia hadn’t realised who Dakota was until she’d become close to Kal. She’d been surprised to link the two as mother and son. They couldn't have been more different if they’d tried.
Kal started walking again, returning his protective hand to her elbow. “I’m just a little stressed. A little bit trapped. I feel like those mice we studied last year, being herded through a maze with the promise of satisfaction.”
“You’re so kind, Kal. If anyone can effect change, it will be you.”
“I just find myself thinking, sometimes, about the things Natalia and her band of merry men say. We follow this path and we end up being another suit, and then what? We grind ourselves to the bone but nothing gets better, does it? The rich stay rich and the poor just get poorer and no one does anything about it. We raise another generation of mini-mes and the cycle starts again. Then I feel bad for having the money to do these things because they don’t. I mean, “ he spluttered. “How is that fair? I didn’t make these people homeless. I didn’t ruin their businesses. And if I stray from the chosen path, my own future is in jeopardy.”
“Kal-”
“Then we’re all in the damn gutter,” he said aggressively.
Tia paused, giving him time to calm down. He was flushed, chest heaving. This had obviously been playing on his mind for some time. She could have kicked herself for not realising sooner. Like him, she knew how frustrating it was to have a certain group attack them for their family’s wealth. It was a helpless kind of feeling to know that someone disliked you for no reason other than what you could afford and they couldn’t. She had become somewhat immune to their comments but Kal obviously hadn’t. Of all of them, he deserved to hear it the least. He was the kind one, the one who offered loose change to those who begged, the one who never threw away food because someone else would appreciate it.
“Don’t let those idiots hurt your work ethic with their misplaced anger.”
“It’s not about my work ethic. I’m just...tired.”
“If you don’t want to do this, then don’t. Life is really too short.”
Tia couldn’t pretend to understand what he felt about his studies. She had grown up with Andy’s influence, his love for his field and the interesting world around them. She had helped him with his experiments, watched as he created small miracles in their living room. She liked learning and she had her parents’ full support in her journey. There was no pressure besides the expectations she had set for herself. She had a lot of choices. Thinking about it, she couldn’t imagine how things might have been different if it had been the opposite.
Kal obviously believed in her naivety as well. He rolled his eyes and ground his teeth together. “She would actually kick me out.”
“You could come and live with me,” she laughed, trying to cheer his spirits.
“I’m sure Andy would appreciate that…”
“He adores you. He would love to have another male in the house.”
Kal chuckled. Then he sighed and patted her arm. “I’m sorry. It’s just been a stressful night. I’m sure I’ll be fine after I get some sleep.”
“It’s hard, but we can do this.” She looked up at him, channeling her most optimistic smile. “We have bright, bright futures ahead of us.”
“You’re like...unflappable.”
“I’m actually quite flappable, I think you’ll find, when it comes to people messing with my best friend. I love you too much to see you like this.”
“What are you gonna do? Kung-fu kick my mum?”
Tia made a dramatic and inaccurate gesture. Kal shook his head again and raised his eyebrows. “Dude. That’s my mum.”
3 - Catch 22
The university was essentially made up of four blocks; the humanities, the social sciences, the arts and sports. It was designed in the shape of a huge, concrete semi-circle, and in the centre of it stood the communal library. It wasn't pretty but what it lacked in elegance it made up for in depth. The library held all of the literature that had survived the fires of the war and was currently the biggest in the city. There were plaques everywhere advertising this for anyone who was interested in knowing, though it was probably only the scholarship kids who bothered. Beside the library was the university reception.
Tia disliked her supervisor, Summer. She disliked her a lot. Sadly, her supervisor was also the Dean. She hadn’t been allowed to reassign so she was stuck with Summer, who was anything but warm. The supervisors were responsible for peer marking, feedback, overseeing placements and just being available for general help. As much as she hated to rely on her, Tia had to if she wanted to graduate. She’d worked too hard to let her ruin it now.
Sighing, she pushed through the double doors leading to reception and saw that Summer’s secretary was standing at the photocopier.
“I’ll be one second,” she sang, popping gum between her candyfloss pink lips as she turned to glance over her shoulder.
Tia had enough encounters with Lydia the receptionist to know this was far from the truth. Lydia liked to do things in her own time. She had a degree in Psychology so Tia could never figure out why Lydia was content to be a receptionist. And a receptionist to the biggest bitch in the building, at that. She claimed she was happy so Tia never argued that Lydia could be using her brain to help people, although she was always tempted. Plus, Lydia kind of made her visits to see Summer slightly less torturous - she didn’t really want her to go.
Tia leaned her hip against the desk and focused on the two girls who were mounting a display on the wall. In between the clicks of a staple gun, she could hear snippets of their conversation. She listened, because she was fabulously nosy.
“…Meeting…said she had the most initiative they’d ever…passionate….rebellion because she understands…next week….everyone just loves Talia,” Girl-In-Blue said.
They had their backs to her, short legs in even shorter skirts. She was used to being an anomaly amongst the gaggles of small, appropriately sized females. Something must have happened to the female genome after the war because it had produced a whole generation of teeny-sized babies. Tia had been the odd one out her whole life. She shifted onto her elbows to hear more because - if she wasn’t mistaken - they were discussing Natalia and the ‘Rebellion’. It wasn't often that you heard anything about it other than rumours. The rebellion was a dangerous topic; if it did in fact exist in the capacity that it was said to, to be a member was likely forbidden.
It was said to be a secret organisation that had formed against the war time government and some very bad decisions. Tia had also heard rumours that Natalia was an important member. If true, it wouldn’t have been a surprise; there was nothing she liked more than making people uncomfortable. Tia could attest to that. What did surprise her was the hearsay about Natalia getting involved in almost every charity in the city. Tia didn’t know what to do with that one. It was exciting, of course, to think of an organisation like that existing but what was the point of it? She couldn’t think of any way that a rebellion would benefit the country, least of all one which involved foul-mouthed Archer.
“I’m telling you, once she gets started, she’s amazing. Talia could convince anyone.”
“Did she talk to anyone?” Butterfly-Girl asked, wide-eyed.
Tia couldn’t help snorting at her lovesick tone. They turned around but quick as a flash she had pulled her phone out and was pretending to text. Hesitantly, the girls went back to the display and Tia reeled in her amusement. Natalia, the greatest narcissist she'd ever known, speak unnecessarily to anyone who didn’t serve a purpose? What a joke. Natalia made it clear whenever she got the chance that she didn’t appreciate girls who gossiped. Especially girls who wore sparkly butterfly clips in their hair. Tia felt sorry for the little fan club.
The girl in blue - the serious one - was obviously more serious about the ‘Rebellion’. She was the kind of person who spoke about it in revered tones, so exalted you could almost hear the capitalisation of the word. Well, good for them. At least they believed in something, even if it was something that didn’t exist. Looking at her watch - a chunky black object which barely served its purpose - five whole minutes had passed and Lydia had disappeared. Frustrated, Tia skirted around her desk to get to the door beside it. It led to an anteroom with a rather distasteful couch and a small table with leaflets for a limited number of societies. She breezed straight through, letting herself into Summer’s office.
She faltered, an odd noise gurgling out of her throat. Summer Davidson, the Dean, was sitting on the edge of the desk with her back to the door. Standing behind that desk, kissing her - the Dean - was Natalia Archer. She was leaning over Summer, determined fingers working against the small of her back, caged in by her legs. Tia’s jaw sagged and she lost hold of her phone. It clattered to the floor, skidding towards the desk. Natalia’s eyes snapped open as she scrambled to pick it back up. As shocked as Tia was, she found a second to note that Natalia had closed her eyes.
Summer gasped. She had realised that someone else was in the room. She pushed Natalia away and she slid off the desk, straightening her skirt. When she saw it was just Tia, she visibly relaxed, as if she had been expecting someone more important. Rude, Tia couldn’t help but think. Summer was young, probably in her early thirties, with smooth skin and a wide brow. She had a proud nose, thick hair and a stinky attitude.
