*
I sit up, screaming. But there’s no pain. I raise my hands to my face and marvel at the freedom of my wrists. The room I’m in is like my old room, but the walls are plaster, not mirrors, and the bed is soft. A bunch of clothes are in a messy pile on the floor. I must’ve kicked them off mid-nightmare.
I lift up the fluffy blanket. I’m totally naked, and everything down there looks exactly the same as it used to. My manhood is still my manhood. I smile, then bite my lip. My chest looks funny. Every single hair is gone, leaving me feeling cold and slightly tingly. I run my hand along my chest. It feels slippery. My skin is also a few fractions darker than before, now a nice, even farm-boy tan, and the mole that used to sit on my hip is gone.
I slide out of bed and pull on a pair of blue boxers, then a pair of chinos. As I’m deciding between navy and green shirts, the door opens.
It’s Kaylee. She’s dressed in a red-and-black flannel shirt and tight white pants.
“Hi,” she says, pulling a white earbud from her ear. She covers her eyes until I pull a shirt, the green one, over my head. As I tug it down she drops her hand and takes a step forward. “Wow. Dude, you should look at yourself. They haven’t changed much, but seriously, what they did makes you look so much cooler. You’re stunning!” She looks behind her, checking to see if the coast is clear, then reaches into her pocket.
“We aren’t supposed to show you mirrors so soon after your operation, but this isn’t a mirror so it should be fine. Man, I love technicalities.”
She passes me a white iPhone. I stare at the dark reflection that appears on the screen.
The boy looking back at me isn’t me. His hair is golden blond, his eyes are vivid blue, and his nose is perfectly straight. Also, his chin is noticeably more pronounced. In fact, the first thing someone might notice would be his strong jaw. He’s an idealized version of myself, what I wished for whenever I felt ugly or unlovable. It’s myself through the lens of someone who loves me.
I practice my smile. Oh God. It’s now crooked—nice touch. I peer closer, turning my head to the side, paying particular attention to my cheeks. No freaking way. They’re faint, and only visible when I’m smiling, but this fact is unavoidable: they gave me dimples.
“Are you impressed?” asks Kaylee.
I pass the phone back to her. “Yeah, I look great. They did an exceptional job.”
I mustn’t have put enough effort into my tone, as she crosses her arms. “You’re still recovering, so I’m going to let that one slide. Oh, and you’ve officially been given a name. It’s Caden, C-A-D-E-N. Get used to responding when people call you that.”
A name.
I have a freaking name.
Caden.
I think it over and over in my mind until it starts to sound odd.
My name is Caden.
“First things first. I’ve already set up your home and selected your outfits, so that’s all taken care of. I’m still working on your scripts, but I’ve printed out the first few and have them ready for you. All that’s left is one last meeting with Mr. Craike. Then we’ll take a plane to your new place. Isn’t this exciting? You’re finally getting out of here, Caden.” She claps her hands together, which makes her bracelets chime, then she pouts. “Aw, I’m kinda jealous. Now, do you have any last questions before you go? You can ask me anything—just remember that whatever you say from now on will be monitored.”
“There is one thing that’s always bugged me,” I say. “I’d like to know why the LIC is so focused on pairing us in high school. Like, wouldn’t it be better to send us in when we’re a bit older? No one finds the love of their life while they’re a teenager.”
“You haven’t read any YA novels recently, have you?”
I shake my head. “I prefer sci-fi. Why? What does that have to do with anything?”
She looks up at the camera that’s attached to the ceiling and shrugs.
I want to ask her why she’s acting so weird, but the door opens and Craike appears so I clamp my mouth shut. The shoes he’s wearing are so polished they shine, reflecting the harsh white light.
“Kaylee,” he says, offering a wide smile. “What a pleasure it is to see you.”
“The pleasure is mine, sir. But don’t scare my boy too much, okay? I need him in fighting condition. He’s going to meet Juliet later on today.”
“I won’t,” Craike says. “I promise.”
He winks at me and I tense, because if his tone didn’t give away that he was lying, the wink definitely did. Which means whatever he’s about to show me could be absolutely horrific.
CHAPTER
FOUR
Kaylee waves at me, then walks out of the room. When the door closes behind her, Mr. Craike steps forward and touches the table. Blue light erupts from the surface.
“Caden,” he says, his tone flat. “You look much better.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He taps the screen and a grainy hologram appears. The video is dark and kind of blurry, and the brightness ratio is skewed. Night vision, I presume. He presses pause, then walks around the desk to stand behind me. His hands slide upward, then clamp down on my shoulders. His icy cologne fills my nostrils. I want to shrug him off, to get his awful, cold hands off me, but I keep my shoulders slack.
He pushes me forward and I stumble closer to the projection. My eyes focus, and I realize I’m looking at a quiet alley.
“The thing about actors, Caden, is that they can never be trusted. So let me be very clear—I don’t trust you. I was once a seventeen-year-old boy, and I can recall the fire you have in your chest, the drive that pushes you to defy authority. So know that those feelings aren’t even remotely original, and that fighting against me, no, against us, is a losing battle.”
He taps the screen and the hologram unfreezes. A man, handsome, with a slender body and glasses, runs down the alleyway. He reaches a door and slaps his hand against it once, twice, three times before he gives up, turns around, and raises his hands above his head. I guess he’s a Nice, because he’s wearing a bulky knitted sweater and he just gives off that kind of vibe.
“Don’t worry,” whispers Craike. “His rival was chosen. He was going to be killed anyway. We decided his passing could serve, well, demonstrative purposes. We were kind to him in that way. His death has saved many lives.”
“Please,” cries the man. “Let me try again with another girl. I’m so much better now; I know I’ll win if you give me the chance. Please. Please!”