Wilde Card, page 3
“Valentia,” she cleared her throat. “What are you doing here?”
Seeing no need for niceties, Tia went ballistic. “Are you crazy? What am I doing here? You’re my supervisor; we meet every Thursday at 12! What are you doing here?”
Summer winced at Tia’s tone and smoothed her chignon down, adjusted her shirt. Tia noticed the hickey against her collarbone before her nimble fingers had snapped the top buttons back into place. Wow, just wow. Smug as a cat, Natalia simply leaned against the wall with crossed arms, watching the exchange. She had lipstick all over her face and yet still managed to exude an aura of superiority. She didn’t even have the decency to look guilty.
“I emailed you to let you know I had cancelled the meeting. Perhaps you should check your emails more often.”
Ignoring the jibe, Tia held her hand up to scroll through her emails. There was indeed one from Summer, sent half an hour ago. Dear Valentia, I’m afraid I have urgent matters to attend to. Our meeting will be postponed until tomorrow. Summer Davidson.
She read it aloud and then burst into laughter. “Urgent matters? What, making out with a student three times your junior?” She remarked, incredulous.
“Valentia,” Summer bristled. “You know I am not that old. And this is none of your concern. Now, if you could please leave and we will meet tomorrow. I probably don’t need to tell you that this stays between the three of us.”
Tia cut her eyes to meet those of Natalia, and found that for once she was not glaring back but simply measuring, waiting to see her reaction. Refusing to agree to anything, Tia turned on her heel and left the office. Back at her desk, Lydia shrugged apologetically but Tia was already moving past her. A middle aged woman making out with a student in her office. It sounded like a bad joke. In fact, now that Tia had put space in between them all, it did elicit a giggle.
Kal was waiting for her in the canteen and she was bursting to tell him all about it. As she dropped into the seat opposite him and opened her mouth excitedly, a hand clamped down around her arm.
“A minute, Valentia,” a voice said, even as the hand tugged her out of the seat. Kal’s face deadpanned as he watched Natalia put a hand on his best friend. He was about to say something when Tia stopped him. She didn't want another argument to break out. They fought like cat and dog when they got started.
“Don’t worry, Kal. This will literally only take a minute.”
“Fine,” he glared at Natalia. “But get your hands off her.”
Natalia snorted and continued to drag Tia away, not loosening her grip until they were outside. Tia pulled away and folded her arms. She looked up at Natalia. Although Tia was tall, Natalia was taller. Tia said nothing, refusing to let herself be intimidated.
“What you saw...” Natalia started.
She dropped metallic blue eyes down to meet Tia’s. She was reminded again of how cold Natalia could be. The shine of her slanted eyes alone was enough to alienate people but she really knew how to maximise the whole effect with her toneless voice. Tia remembered that once she had shown her an old recording of her Japanese grandmother who’d had the same monotonous voice. Tia imagined that was where she drew inspiration. Natalia’s eyes were already startling but when she wanted to, she could make them terrifying.
“Forget what you saw in there. You shouldn’t have seen that anyway.”
“My heart bleeds,” Tia mocked. “For your forbidden love.”
Natalia scowled. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand. You’ve had everything handed to you on a silver plate. Some people have to do things they don’t want to for their resources,” she snapped.
Tia’s attitude automatically kicked into full gear. She straightened her spine so that she was at least a fraction of a centimetre taller and looked Natalia square in the eyes. “I don’t get everything handed to me on a plate. In case you’d forgotten, we both worked hard to get into this place, so don’t be a dick. And I don’t care about you and the cradle snatcher; just don’t expect me to keep your dirty secret, Golden Girl.”
Tia didn't wait for a response. As she walked away, she realised that a few things were now beginning to make sense. Why, when Natalia had insulted several of her professors last year, getting kicked out of almost every other class, she hadn’t been reprimanded. Why, despite all of these rumours about her being part of an underground rebellion, Summer hadn’t investigated it. It was so stupid that she hated Tia for ‘getting her own way’ when she was doing exactly the same - except in Natalia’s case, she was practically selling herself for it.
Kal wasn’t sitting down any more. He was pacing outside the canteen instead. When Tia rounded the corner, he shook his head at her. “Why don’t you just kick her arse already?” he grumbled, because he couldn’t.
Tia threw her arms around him as best she could, knocking him in the side of the head in the process. He was like a big bear. ‘You know I’m not like that.”
“She thinks she can manhandle you.”
“Turns out I’m not the only person she likes to manhandle…” she wiggled her eyebrows. Kal expressed confusion but she decided not to say any more. She suddenly felt guilty, though she didn’t know why. All she did know was that nineteen year old Natalia and thirty-something year old Summer was just wrong. The image of their combined silhouette would haunt her for a long, long time.
◆◆◆
Jessie was in the kitchen, making spaghetti bolognese and singing along to the radio. Tia leaned against the doorway and watched her tiny mother, her head barely clearing the top of the fridge, dance around the kitchen.
“Don’t wake me upppppp,” she sang, stirring a pot of boiling pasta. Her skirt swung around her calves, creating a swirl of colours. Her green, off-the-shoulder shirt floated around her midriff, showing off her pierced navel. It always made Tia smile to see that her mother was still so young at heart even though forty wasn’t really that old. The scar along her right shoulder blade was red and puckered today, aggravated by the heat of the kitchen.
Jessie had been a gymnast when she was younger. She’d also done a lot of free running in her spare time with a few of her childhood friends. She could tell Tia stories that made her hair stand on edge. This particular scar – she had so many – was the result of an unfortunate gust of wind which caused her to land awkwardly and fall backwards. She hadn’t seen the broken glass on the open top roof.
“Mum.”
Jessie looked over her scarred shoulder and grinned, waving her daughter into the room. “You can help me mince the meat,” she scolded. “Instead of standing there watching.”
“I like watching you.”
“It’s funny, your father says that too.” Jessie handed Tia a can. “Tin opener is in the sink.”
“Where is he anyway?” Tia asked, rolling her sleeves up.
“Hmm, late night at work. Said he had some errands to run.”
Tia refrained from saying: again?! Andy did important work but he always got caught up. She focused on opening the can without slicing herself into shreds. It contained what was called subMeat. It was an interesting substitute for the real thing. Whilst the country still held onto a shred of its agriculture, it was sparse, exclusive and expensive. The Quorn Project paid hundreds of workers to produce artificial meat which they packed into cans. It provided them with the hunk of slime Jessie was washing right now. Andy and Tia liked to call them the Quorners when they wanted a giggle. The substitute meat didn't taste so bad to Tia but then she hadn't ever developed a love for the real thing. Jessie, however, couldn’t stand it and usually seasoned it a hundred different ways to mask the taste. Andy wasn't fussy and would literally eat anything.
Thinking about him reminded her that she hadn’t had a moment alone with her dad for days. She was starting to miss him. Can you miss someone you live with? She washed her hands thoroughly, hating the squishy feeling between her fingers.
“I’m telling you, you’d die if you ever tasted a real leg of lamb. They were expensive even before the war,” Jessie grumbled as she added the grey slush into the pot.
“I bet,” Tia rolled her eyes. She had no issue with the food she had grown up with. Maybe that meant Jessie was a really good cook or maybe she just didn’t care about what she was eating. Either way, when her mum started harping on about legs of lamb, Tia tended to slip away.
She found herself in her parents’ room. Sometimes she liked to go in there and just sit at the foot of the bed. Their room was the biggest and they’d filled the space with memories. The walls were covered with pictures. Frames of their friends and family members that Tia had never met. Holidays they'd been on when travel was still possible.There was one of the two of them, laughing, in a heap on a small bed and surrounded by others. The walls were yellow, the ceiling arching above them. The lighting wasn’t very good but Tia could see the bandage around Andy’s head, and the lip-splitting grin on his face. On the dresser by the window, her dad kept a picture of himself with a man that Tia knew only as Harry. They were very young, teenagers with toothy grins and gangly limbs. His best friend. They didn't talk anymore, Andy had explained, but he really missed him.
When her dad got home later, they sat at the small table in the living room and ate together. Whilst they chatted away, Tia watched her parents. They had aged well, the both of them, but sometimes she saw something guarded in their eyes. The war had been hard and she didn't think they'd let it go, despite what they said. After clearing up, Andy asked Tia if she wanted to see what he was working on. Her desire to study biochemistry and follow in his footsteps had begun with moments like this. He often brought home prototypes of his experiments, formulas he was trying to work out. Over the years, she had gained a deep interest in his work. It was their ritual now to sit together and study his latest projects whenever he needed a fresh perspective.
As he pointed out an equation, she found herself drifting off into her own thoughts. It didn’t happen often - Tia loved these moments with Andy - but she found herself thinking about the Rebellion once again. She was thinking about the people they were protecting.
“Dad…” she said. “Do you think we’re to blame?”
He frowned, turning his warm eyes up to her. “For what?”
“The poverty line.”
“What? Where's this coming from?”
He looked concerned, his brow creased into deep lines. She shrugged but she was remembering Natalia and what she’d said about Tia having it easy. Tia knew she was one of the lucky ones. But was that really her fault? What could she do about it? She didn't work, so she had no income apart from what her parents gave her for lunch. Once a week, Jessie visited the local markets and bought what they needed, giving back to the economy. And more importantly, Tia was forbidden from visiting the poorer outskirts of the city due to the rising crime rates. There was nothing she could do, truly, to help. Or was that just, as Natalia often said, an excuse?
“I just wish I could help.”
“The city is doing what it can but it isn't easy. To make a decent wage you ultimately have to aim for civil servant and a lot of people don't want to. It's a catch 22.” He looked away. “They don't trust us.”
“Is it really ‘us’ though?” she raised her eyebrows. “We’re not the government. You’re not the government, you just work for them.”
Andy sighed. “Tia, when I create chemicals that sustain vegetation for them, they choose what they want to do with that. They could choose to do good, to grow more crops and distribute them at cheaper prices for everyone to benefit from. Instead, they funnel it all into their own private crops or sell it to wealthy business owners and up the prices. If I have allowed them to do that then I am the government. I, along with all the other people who are doing what I do, am creating good for them to warp into pound signs.”
She stared. “You are not.”
He laughed, big and loud, at her stubbornness. They were so similar, he said, that sometimes he felt he was looking at himself. Except thinner and much, much more feminine. “Look, sweet Tee, you cannot save the whole world.”
Tia deflated, letting her head fall onto his shoulder. He was right. He was always right.
4 - A Surprise Attack
“I’ve never dated a black girl before.”
Tia was unfortunate enough to hear this as she passed one of the study rooms. Her step faltered. She recognised the voice.
Up close, Tia could see deep bags under Natalia’s eyes and stress spots across her jaw - a jaw that she was clenching tight. As Ryan gestured wildly, Lars shrunk away from his hand. That small movement made Tia feel sorry for the blond. He was small and wiry, cocky but the least intimidating thing ever. He didn't need to be in the middle of this. Natalia was using that tone; the one that made it clear she was talking down to them. Ryan was getting riled up and the boy was now definitely in the middle of this.
She didn’t see Natalia move until her fist connected with Ryan’s face. Releasing his grip on Tia, Ryan grabbed his jaw and groaned in pain. The library erupted into chaos as people clambered to get a closer look, chairs hitting the floor.
“What the hell?” Tia hissed, spinning on her heel to stare at Natalia.
She was shaking her hand out but froze at Tia’s exclamation, registering the way everyone was looking at her. Her expression went suddenly blank. She snatched up her bag and stalked away, shouldering people out the way. Tia watched her go but didn’t have time to say anything else because Kal was by her side; asking her what had just happened, why was Ryan bleeding, and where was Natalia? She pushed him out of the way and ran, past the gawking faces of all the people in the library, past Ophelia and Lorcan. Running down the hallway, she found Natalia as she was reaching the top of the staircase.
“Natalia, wait!”
She didn’t stop, although Tia knew she had heard her name being called.
“Natalia…wait,” Tia called again, reaching out to take hold of her sleeve. Natalia stopped but looked distastefully at Tia’s hand on her arm. Natalia’s knuckles were cracked and bleeding, swelling up fast. Tia winced at the sight of them. Now that she’d caught up with Natalia, she didn’t know what to say. She’d let confusion drive her actions and now she was all out of ideas. Her heart raced.
“I-I wanna say thanks, for trying to protect me. But you shouldn’t have punched him,” she said.
She knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as she’d said it. Natalia already had her back turned and now her shoulders became a barricade. “All the rich kids stick together,” she stated, shaking Tia off.
Tia grabbed her again with both hands, forcing her to stay. “Shit, that was the wrong thing to say. Look, I keep telling you, there’s nothing wrong with having a little more money. The only person who creates this us against them divide is you.”
This aggravated Natalia even more but she didn’t try to shake Tia off again. She turned to Tia, her face drawn into a deep grimace.
“That divide exists with or without my voice. And it’s not about money either. There are people who believe in the innocence of the government: you,” she pointed and she was so close that her finger was a sharp jab in Tia’s shoulder. “People who feel the consequences and understand the motives of the government: us”.
She made it clear that she was vehemently part of them. “Money factors into it because the naïve ones are usually the ones who have never had to fight for anything in their entire lives.” She was shouting now, a vein on the side of her head pulsing with every word. “And the ones with enough balls to contest this divide, we, are the ones who cannot live like this forever. Sadly, we are a dying breed because idiots like you are the ones in charge of the government.”
Tia stood still, her teeth worrying at her lip, trying not to flinch at Natalia’s words. She was wound up and violently tired. Tia could see the redness of her eyes and the spittle in the corner of her mouth. Tia didn’t want to be on the receiving end of any more aggression but she wanted to calm Natalia down. Deep down, Tia knew she wouldn't hurt her. Despite all that had happened between them, Tia still liked to think that she knew her that well.
Halfway through her first year in college, Tia had to get involved in extracurricular activities. It was for her personal statement, and so it had to really matter. Her college had a debating society and if there was one thing Tia was good at, it was arguing. She signed up. Her first couple of debates were easy and she barely had to try, a fact that was no surprise to her. Then came an opponent who brought the whole game to a real challenge. She stepped up to the podium, dark hair in a tangle, voice quiet and controlled, and built an argument so fundamentally perfect that Tia exhausted herself trying to win. Her opponent was sharp as a blade, counter-arguments coming quickly and well formed. Tia remembered thinking that she was cheating, except she never once looked away. Whilst Tia’s partner bumbled through the debate, her opponent maintained that little smirk, never once rolling her eyes at Tia. Tia’s points were always met with a small nod of respect, her opponent’s pale face dipping to and fro, dark blue eyes sparkling with interest. When she won the debate and they were to shake hands, she smiled at Tia in a way that could have broken hearts.
“I’m Talia,” she said, even though her name was on the sheet. They didn't know each other personally - Tia had never seen her around, actually - and so it felt right to exchange names.
“Tia,” she smiled back.
