KiP - Chapter One: Twenty Years Earlier

I was born in July at the hospital in Vayne's Sector (named for the Knower of Thoughts, Vayne). I had gone through school properly up until now, and plan to keep going, no matter how stressful high school is. It makes me laugh about how huge those problems were to me, because they could barely be counted as the beginning. I sat with my friends, laughing and as loud as ever, had that tell-tale crush on the cute guy in my neighborhood, slept through class, explained the results to demanding parents and had sold my soul to the stage. It was hard enough to keep my grades up, let alone have time to actually try. Pretty normal, right?
The thing is, with all of that going on, my friends and I were the happiest in the school. You couldn't shoot a quick glance around the halls without seeing someone in obvious pain, more often heaving with sobs than anything. The Knowers had done this to us. They took our friends, family and loved ones on a weekly basis. My sister had been taken only two months ago, and it hurt so much that I had trouble convincing myself to move on. I had to talk myself through every step I took, every motion I made, everyday. I had quite honestly lost the will to go on. This is no fantasy so the pain only grew, softening its grip on my heart, and taking hold in my mind as anger.
Why would anyone do this?
How could anyone do this?
People stopped talking to each other, afraid of that same pain, afraid to lose another friend. Which was rather strange to me, because I think the whole situation brought my friends closer together. We'd been though a lot, and it was comforting to have the shoulder to cry on, so, for some strange reason, when the Knowers seemed to be tearing people apart hey had made my friend's and I's relationships stronger. We all have secrets that we cannot bring ourselves to tell anyone - everyone does, no matter how much you trust them - but I depend on them so much so that it makes my blood boil when I think about how I'm one of very few that have people to laugh with me.
Slamming my locker in frustration, I spun around towards the spot my friends and I claimed as our own. Scanning the halls, I felt my heart skip a beat as Braken Haven crossed my path in an angry huff. Since we lived on the same street, were both in the percussion class in the Jr. High, and had the same first period, we're pretty well acquainted, but there had never been true friendship between us. That is the fact that ate at me, seeing as I was usually good with people, and he was the one person I had issues speaking to. This drove me insane because, despite all the obvious distractions, I never had a problem relating to people. While talking to him though, I would always lose my train of thought, and have to pause and find it again, which made my sentences choppy, and then I could barely understand what I was trying to say, so I can only imagine how difficult it was for him.
It was almost weird to think about but he was cute, his brown eyes were often swimming with questions, and, if I was lucky, I would catch the small but genuine smile that was just so refreshing. He had a sense of humor, and an understanding attitude. It was common knowledge that he never knew his father. In times like these no one had little pains to bear, and even though everybody knew about them, no one dared to make the burdens lighter. Making a snap decision, I went up to him as he fumbled with the lock on his locker.
"Hey. . .um. . .are you okay, Braken?" I asked, "You seem a bit . . . off."
I had woken up screaming.
Since I've gotten older, the nightmares have grown more graphic. The Elite would come and incapacitate my father, and I (being older in the dreams than when it had actually happened) always insisted on going with him. Annoyed, they would beat me to the ground, and leave, my father in tow. It was always the same - except for last night. They began to drag my father out as usual, and then the leader stopped before disappearing in to the shadows like the others and said, 'You'll play your part, boy.' I couldn't make myself think about the meaning, I was that terrified. I found myself wishing I could do something about it, or just talk to someone about it, because whenever I bring it up at home, it affects my mother, not only emotionally but physically as well. She gets all dizzy, and has to sit down because the little strength that is left seems to just seep out of her.
Muttering under my breath, I stormed across the hall, trying to keep the deep grey cement and matching tiles from pushing me farther into depression, to my locker, the pain would never subside, because it was the roots for the untamable anger took hold of my heart long ago. My hand was shaking with fury as I tried to turn the dial on my locker, why did they have to do this to me? I had lived through pain and torment a child should never have to see before I was allowed into preschool, which was just a prelude to the hellish prison this school has turned out to be. Even if the Knower's didn't have complete control over the schooling system, the building was built like a prison: one toilet for the girls, one for the guys, one drinking fountain that everyone refused to drink from because of the legends of things that had happened to it, dark walls, matching tiles, florescent lights and bars on the classroom doors and windows. How did I deserve this? What had I done?
These bottled up emotions had twisted my potentially happy life into a whirl-pool of chaos. I'd taken some pretty drastic measures because I wanted it to end - I know that the only person that can make that happen is me. I really am proud of what I've done, I just can't help thinking that I wouldn't have had to go through anything if I could just open up a bit, relieve some of the pain and anger. Why was it so hard for me to confide in anyone? Oh right, because with my luck, the first person I found would be whisked away and I'd be left alone, again. I started when a voice interrupted my inaudible rant.
"Hey. . .um. . .are you okay, Braken?" it asked, "You seem a bit. . .off."
I whirled around, and Cera Minor took a step back as I almost fell forward. She laughed, and that rare and beautiful sound echoed through my head. Her hands come up to my shoulders to steady me; her bright blue eyes burning with comfort and concern. Oh the irony, I thought, just seconds ago I was longing for someone to confide in, and I am sent the last person I would ever want to burden with my problems.
Cera was my neighbor, and since she was in my first period English class, I saw a lot of her. Her short reddish-brown hair fell right around her face, often tossing and flipping as she bounced from person to person, spreading smiles when they're as rare finding gold in your bathtub. She had a sort of aura; you couldn't be around her without catching her own bright smile. She seemed to have this amazing way of sensing people's feelings and thoughts. Maybe she is the person I should talk to after all. . .
"Oh, it's nothing," he said with a shrug, his eyes clouding over with the lie. His face an expression I had only too much experience with.
"You wouldn't be thinking about your. . .well. . .dad, would you?" I asked on a whim. "I recognized your. . .um. . .expression," I explained hurriedly as a look of shock adorned his face.
"Oh?"
"I felt it every day," I answered, "after my - after my. . . you know. . .after my sister was taken."
I blinked, shocked. I really didn't expect the conversation to be that personal, but the words just kind of jumped out of my mouth. Then again, I didn't ever really expect this conversation to happen.
I cringed. That was not a time I liked to remember. Like I said, Cera was the happy one, known for her ability to make anyone laugh. These past two months had been darker for everyone. Cera sat with her friends as usual, but the bouncy positive person that we all knew and relied on was gone. The whole school seemed darker and people began to avoid her, because you could feel the anger and confusion radiating off of her so strongly that you wanted to cry yourself.
It was especially hard on her friends. Though they were all really close, they all kind of relied on Cera to be the one they could talk to, the one they could lean on. She really had no problem with it either. The way she sat and listened showed that she wanted them to talk to and confide in her. She treated it as if it were her calling.
It was one of the reasons (among many others) I think I fell for her; she was dependable, which, sad as it is, is a hard trait to come by these days. I could always depend on her smile to lift me up for the coming day, at a simple glance across the hall. When they took her sister, though, it was gone. She had only recently began to recover, the light smile on her face is still only a mere shadow of what it was, but it still holds hope of happiness.
All of that was probably what made me answer her completely honestly.
"Yeah, while I sleep the Elite come and take my dad over and over again, right in front of me. I already hate that I never knew him. . ."
I blinked as a look of shocked horror took over his face. I hadn't expected him to reveal that much, most people refuse my open ear - I can't blame them - and it looked like he had been planning on following suit. I took it in stride, though, and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Braken," I whispered, "I know how badly it hurts. Can I . . . offer some advice?"
"Yeah," was his simple, shamefaced reply.
"Focus on the good memories," I said, "I know you never knew. . .knew your dad, but I'm sure your mom has some good memories. Ask her, and I think it might brighten her day . . . as well."
He looked up at me and (to my relief) smiled, my own special payment for my advice, "I think I will," he said, "My mom could definitely use a smile. Thanks."
"No problem," I smiled back. "You. . .can come sit with me for a while if you'd like. It seems like a friend. . .would do you good."
Her ability to read people amazed me sometimes. I had literally been asking myself what I was going to do when this conversation was over, and then she asked me to join her. I did agree that it would help to have people to take my mind off my dad. Don't get me wrong, I have friends, but they're the friends that are just as affected as I am. There were four of us, Jackson, Kyle, Cam and me. We were the friends that couldn't be separated; we had most of the same classes, and would feel completely comfortable raiding the others' fridges or pantries without question.
Probably a year ago, I got a call from Cam's mom, asking if he was with me. Our foursome had split after school because Kyle's family was leaving on vacation, and Jackson got himself grounded for 'attitude.' I told her I hadn't seen Cam since we split to our separate buses, and couldn't help asking how long he had been gone. When she said that he never came home from school, I had to concentrate on controlling my frantic thought process. If he was planning on running away there was no way I wouldn't know about it, if he was going anywhere I would know, we were that close. His mom told me that Jackson and Kyle had said the same thing, and then mournfully hung up. The next day, I asked a few questions and got the full story.
The Elite had intercepted Cam's bus had dragged him off. I cringed as person after person told me how he fought them in every way possible: screaming, biting, kicking, scratching, but nothing fazed them. This really hit our four- well, I guess it's a trio now - hard. We all despised the Elite, since they had capped off all of our most painful losses. Jackson's older brother, Kyle's younger sister, my dad, but they had done the most damage to Cam. His dad, his older sister (who had ended up taking over the motherly family figure, since their mom could do hardly anything with the depression she had sunk into), and his younger brother that had absolutely worshiped him had all been dragged off in the past. Though none of us could stand the Knowers, Cam hated them most, hands down. It wasn't much of a comfort to us, his friends, to know he was now an involuntary key to the establishment that he loathed more than anything on the planet. It's not that I was abandoning my friends; I just figured it would do me some good to try a couple minutes with happier people.
"That would be great," I said, and her smile expanded to its old splendor. Her hand slid off my shoulder and she spun around to her spot in the commons with her friends. We found them in the middle of an intense debate.
"Harry Potter is by far the best," said the one girl, Lena I think was her name, quite seriously.
"Pendragon is pretty good though," another girl, named Ari, argued.
"You can't possibly think that those books are better than Harry Potter!" Lena fought back, "J.K. Rowling is pure genius, and i didn't like D.J. MacHale's writing style. It isn't nearly as developed as J.K.R.'s is."
"I love Harry Potter," Jenna, another one of Cera's friends, "but James Patterson's Maximum Ride series is better for me."
Ari glared at her and Jenna threw her hands up in a surrendering gesture, "I'm sorry, I've never read Pendragon."
"Max is amazing," Lena conceded, "but as far as I'm concerned, Harry's is the most developed story, is beautifully eloquent (though Max does have her moments), and I am attached to the characters so much more than in any other story."
Braken was absolutely bewildered. I knew he had at least read the Harry Potter series, I had lent him Maximum Ride, but I don't know if he had ever read it. So besides the fact that he might have only the slightest idea of what they were talking about, they were talking about these amazing books quite enthusiastically.
This wasn't unusual though. My friends and I, we're, well, strange, especially compared to standard. We obsess over books, like the ones mentioned, T.V. shows like Avatar: The Last Airbender, CSI:, and Monk. We're quite problems expressing ourselves. I can see why people wouldn't want to express themselves, what with the Knowers becoming more and more out spoken against the hope of the people. They had begun banning things that could give people ideas. They seemed to think we would try and rebel or something. We're really not that stupid, if they know everything, how would we ever beat them? You get any idea, you let me know.
"We're different," I explained, "but people can usually find a place with us. You, for example, could talk with Lena, Jenna, and Ari about music, they all adore music, and Ari wants to learn the guitar. And we all, quite obviously, love Harry Potter."
"I assume we're talking about the books," Jeff said at that moment.
"The day you hear one of us compliment a Harry Potter movie (excepting the first two) will be the day the Knowers forget what they know," Lena said, with a roll of her eyes.
"Harry Potter is at the top of my list," I said, because I couldn't ever seem to hold in my opinion, "but I adore the story in Pendragon series, and have never laughed harder than when reading Maximum Ride."
She nodded firmly and joined them on the floor, motioning for me to do the same. My presence didn't seem to affect them, they just kept on talking, but Cera interrupted them.
"Hey, you guys know Braken, right?" she said, nudging me, "This is Lena, Ari, Jenna and Jeff."
Lena answered with an approving look, offered her hand to Cera for a high-five and she smacked it. Before I could ask what that was all about, Ari interrupted with her own question.
"So you play the guitar? I've got one; it's just hard to figure out."
"It's just the fingering, you know?" I said, feeling more at home, despite the fact that these strangers seemed to know me pretty well, "Finding and learning the cords. It gets much easier once you get that."
"If only I could have lessons," she said, wistfully, "I doubt my mom could come up with the money."
I nodded sympathetically. Ari's dad had been taken about a year ago. He was on the council now, which, in my opinion made it harder. I miss my sister more than almost anything, but I don't think I would be able to bear seeing her once bright and happy face, hard and cold, delivering pain and sorrow with every word. It would be torture to know what you miss and love this person but you can't even try to fight the hatred boiling deep down inside you, red hot, and threatening to explode at any minute. According to her, they never hear from him personally. Her mom was forced to get a job and struggle to support the family. She was still recovering from the loss, and part of me thinks she'll never be able to deal with it; which is completely understandable.
The thing that I just can't wrap my head around is how the people that were taken completely forgot about their loved ones. They didn't even think about their families, even if they were the most dedicated parent, or family oriented person. I never would have thought that my sister could forget about me, but the seven week period had ended a week ago. I had little hope that she would be able to contact me during that time, but I focused on the fact that this meant she was not headed for the Elite, which would have been so much worse.
"Cera?" Jeff's voice interrupted my stupor, his finger jabbing the ticklish spot on my side, making me jump, "You there?"
"I shut my eyes, and clenched my hands into fists in the effort to keep from smacking him, "Yeah, sorry, I was just thinking."
I looked over at Cera - she was smiling lightly; questions and, I think, a hint of anger was burning in her eyes. Something told me she had completely missed the whole conversation, and I thought I had an inkling of why. She looked up and caught me staring at her, I thought about quickly looking away, but when she realized what I was doing, her smile expanded yet again.
"Are you . . . feeling better?" she asked, scooting close enough so that this was a somewhat private conversation.
I weighed my position out in my mind. I had actually resolved to talk to my mom about the happy memories she had of my dad. Focusing on that, I could keep any thoughts of the nightmares out of my head. I could also sense that these people, Cera and her friends, actually cared. I wasn't just some guy sitting next to them; they counted me as a friend, accepting me without a second thought, which is so rare nowadays. This thought had already begun to make the hard cement walls seem a little less grim, the florescent lights less fake, but I couldn't help wondering why anyone would want to get attached to another person the Elite could take away? Then it just kind of hit me.
People willing to take the risk are worth the effort.
"I'm feeling much better. Thanks."
"Don't mention it," she said, leaning back on her hands, "Sometimes you just need a happier place. . .in which you're comfortable enough to be yourself, you don't have to - to worry about what others, even The Knowers, think."
"Doesn't it all end, though?" I asked, "How do you know the Elite won't come up within the minute and snatch Lena, or Airi-whatever her name is? It could happen to anyone, it actually happened to me! So why pretend that all is well?"
"We don't Braken," she whispered harshly, looking completely offended, "I could never pretend that my sister just . . . disappeared! How could you suggest that? We just collectively decided that if. . .the people. . .that have been taken were here with us, they wouldn't want us to completely give up in life now that they're gone! Don't you see that?"
"That's definitely a different way to look at things," I answered, "I never thought about it like that."
"I am sorry about Cam, though," she said quietly. "I had forgotten that you two used to be attached at the hip."
"He'd be happy for me now," I answered, not sure if she'd get it.
I bent my head back, trying to grip the optimistic way of life that had since escaped me. Imitating Cera, I put my hands back, using them to support my weight.
He leaned back, stretching his arms back behind him. I felt an odd weight encase my hand, and had to turn my head to figure out what it was. Braken had settled his hand right on top of mine without realizing it. His hand shifted, and then the realization of what it was resting on hit him, and it jserked back. I pretended not to notice as his face went red and he shot a glance at me out of the corner of his eye. It wasn't especially hard because at his touch I was thrown onto memory lane at running speed. I saw flashes of different memories of my sister. A montage, every time I could remember her comforting me. She would always encase my hand in hers, and let me lean, or cry, on her shoulder.
I'm not saying I don't know that my friends love me, because they do, and I know they have my back for anything. It's just that sometimes, rarely, I feel like I have secrets that I can't share, things that could hurt them more. My sister was always an unbiased judge, something I hope I have learned from her, but I would tell her absolutely everything. It's not that my friends would judge me, it's just. . . . . .I don't know, it's complicated, but I had forgotten what it felt like to have that kind of outlet, and his touch brought the memory back to me.
Then, of course, there is the teenage girl inside me, freaking out becasue the guy I liked had practically just held my hand, on accident or not (laugh if you want, you've thought the same thing and you know it).
shoving those thoughts aside, I looked at Braken and he was still red-faced, it really must have been an accident. I chuckled a little, smiling wider so he would see that no harm was done. His face drained some of the red, and a warm light filled his eyes, in which I could no longer see the pain and anger that had been there only minutes ago.
Sitting there, thinking back on my life, I never remember being more embarrassed than that second. My face felt so hot, you probably could have cooked a pizza on it in less than five minutes. I don't know if it was so bad because I already really liked her, or if it was just the circumstance and the awkwardness of it all. It seemed to affect her though, like my touch had just sent her into another dimension. Maybe I was just imagining things or she smiled like she actually enjoyed the sensation, and was there really some delight in her eyes?
In the middle of my frantic thought process, the bell rang, and a collective groan went through the school. I looked around and watched as people solemnly heaved themselves into standing positions, and then turned around to my new friends. They were laughing and joking, pulling each other up by the hands. That moment, I assured myself that they were the people I was supposed to be with. After being enlightened about the reason behind the smiles, I don't think I could go back to the depressing life I upheld before.
Suddenly, my vision was obscured by a fleshy mass, which happened to be a hand. I looked up and Cera was standing there offering to help me up. I conceded and once she had hugged all of her friends tightly, she turned to me, and we walked to English together.
I lead the way into the English room, and Braken, who usually sat on the other side of the room, followed me over to my preferred seat, and took the one next to it. Simultaneously, we looked around the room for the teacher, our eyes meeting when there was no sign of him. He tilted his head in a questioning way, and I shrugged. Maybe he was late. The tardy bell rang, and our teacher still hadn't shown up, the other students were just visiting quite loudly with each other, not noticing the absence.
After about ten minutes, I started to get worried; usually the administration had at least sent a sub by now. Right as I was about to walk down to the office and ask what the heck was going on, a voice came on over the P.A. system.
"Attention teachers and students please excuse this interruption, but I have a very important message from the Council. It reads as follows:
'Citizens,
English will no longer be taught as a subject.
The ideals that are supported by this course are strictly against our hope for a peaceful society. To keep these ideals from infecting our younger citizens, and future Council members, we have demolished the class completely. Hence forth, English classes will be filled in by Diction, so that you still learn our language, and will be able to be useful to our society.
Also, within the day, the Council will release a list of books that shall be prohibited to possess. Anything irrelevant to progress will be banned, for to be one as a society, we must all have the same ideals. Creativity, though praised in the past, must now be put to an end if we are all going to stand strongly together as a whole to face the dangers that will inevitably threaten us. We Know we are right.
The Council of the Known'
Classes that are normally in English right now, if you would please focus your attention to the screen at the front of the class room. The computer will say a word and its definition, and you will please repeat exactly what it says. Thank you."
Braken and I were gaping at each other in complete and absolute horror.
"WHAT?" I had to keep myself from yelling. Anything irrelevant will be banned?!? I may be shooting in the dark here, but I'm guessing Harry Potter would not be on the approved list, and for some reason, I didn't think my newest friends would take this very well, because I'm not half as obsessed as they are, but it still ticked me off.
What was the idea with this 'diction' crap anyway? I could MAYBE understand it for like second graders or something, but we're high school students, we can speak just fine! Meanwhile, cera looked like she was trying to convince herself that it was all a nightmare. I knew for a fact that, besides her friends, her books mattered most to her. That P.A. pretty much told her that she had to give them all up. She pushed the hair out of her face, revealing an almost scary look of pure determination.
Now that the screen had begun class, I didn't dare talk, but I shot her a questioning glance, and in reply she shook her head, stood up and basically exploded out of the classroom. Since the screen didn't seem to notice, I copied her actions (with a lot less energy). She was halfway down the hall, ranting at the top of her voice.
"WHO DO THEY THINK THEY ARE?!?" she yelled pulling out her phone, and jamming the buttons with her fingers. "WHY WOULD THEY EVER WANT TO BAN THE BOOKS?! ABSOLOUTE INSANITY I TELL YOU! IF THEY THINK FOR JUST ONE MINUTE THIS IS GOING TO GO OVER EASILY, BOY HAVE THEY GOT ANOTHER THING COMING!!!"
The phone was at her ear, and seconds later Lena answered at the other end.
"We have GOT to talk," Cera said, "Can you ditch?. . .Okay, good, meet you in the commons, hurry."
She hung up and dialed the next number.
I dialed Ari's number, still absolutely fuming. I'm still not really sure what set me off. Maybe I'm just fed up with those stupid Knowers, all their tricks and games. My books are really close to my heart, I don't know why but they were always special. Anyone who knew me would testify to know much I love my books. Whenever I read them, I take the slip cover off (and store it on a special shelf just for the slip covers), and put a book cover on. Even then, they never touch the floor, and if anyone that doesn't have permission so much as tries to touch them, I can turn lethal. Like I said, they mean a lot ot me, and especially after they stole my sister from me, this was the final straw, no matter how ridiculous it seems.
"Ari? Hey we've got to talk," I said, once Ari answered, "Can you get out of class?. . . meet us in the commons."
I ended the call, but before I could call Jenna, I was receving a call. Glancing at the screen, I saw Jeff's name on the caller id.
"Hey, Jeff," I said, not waiting for a reply, "get out of class, we've gotta do something about this."
He affirmed - I ended the call, and frantically dialed Jenna's number.
"Jenna, dear, calm down," I said when she answered her phone frantically yelling, "Calm down! We're not giving them up that easily. Get out of class, we've got to decide what we're going to do."
She hung up and I started towards the commons. You, reading this right now, might think that I'm being completely ridiculous. You're probably thinking, 'Why does it matter? They're books!' but you have to understand where I'm coming from. To me, my books are my friends, and I had come to depend on them almost as much as I do on the friends that are people, and I know for a fact that I can't live without my friends.
Turning into the commons, I saw Lori and Sheri standign there looking around for something. They saw me, and rushed over.
"Oh good! Cera, we knew you would show up!" Lori said, "Something told me the banning would not go over well, especially with you. Diction wasn't too interesting, so I came here."
"I met her, after leaving my own class, and we figured you'd end up out here sooner or later," said Sheri, looking around me at Braken, "Who's this?"
"Sorry," I said, turning to Braken, I grabbed his hand and pulled him forward, "You guys, tis is Braken, I introduced him this morning, but you guys weren't here. Braken, this is Sheri, and Lori."
"Sorry I wasn't here earlier," Lori said sticking out a hand, "I had swim team."
"I was studying," Sheri admitted quietly, waving.
Cera's hand was still clamped to mine, and I had a harder time concentrating on this rather frightening turn of events. Clumsily, I dropped her grip and shook Lori's hand and waved back to Sheri, they both smiled.
"What exactly are we doing?" I asked, casting a worried look around. We were breaking the rules in a Council-owned establishment after all.
"We have got to find a way - to preserve our books," Cera said in a determined tone, waving Jenna, Jeff, Ari, and Lena over. "Why do you look so worried?"
"Well, the Council runs this school," I said slowly.
"Yeah, and?"
"Don't you think they might be watching us sluff on their cameras right now? Isn't this a bit obvious?" I asked and her eyes actually lit up.
"They don't have camera's here, I promise," she said with a knowing smile.
"You know this because. . .?"
"The stage techies and I found this room," she started, speaking quieter as the rest of the group settled down around us, "jam packed with old screens. They were the receivers for the cameras that the school board used to have. All deactivated, some of the screens were even crashed. If they had cameras anywhere, they'd be run through that room, besides, we've been in all the other rooms. Nothing. Either way, all of these teachers and so called administrators work for them, why would we ever disobey with a threat like that looming ober us?"
As I tried to find a hole in her logic, she turned around and addressed the group.
"You guys, we've all lost something because of these 'All-Knowing Tyrants.' We have each other and in all actuality, we don't know how long that will last. (She shot a significant smile in my direction) We may just be kids, but adults don't care enough, and I am sick and tired of waiting for them to do something about this. We have GOT to do something now, and i suggest we start with the books."
"The books are jsut the beginning," I said, surprised at the sound of my own voice, "They're cutting off the voice of the people, before we know it, we won't be able to open our mouths without getting thrown into jail."
Cera beamed at me, and Sheri nodded.
"One thing I know we've got to do," Cera continued confidently, "is, obviously, keep the Knowers from getting our books."
"You mean, hide them?" Jeff asked.
"Yes," Cera answered, "Do you guys have any ideas as to how?"
They all looked at me expectantly.
"You're the one who would have the best ideas, Cera," Lena said. "You know the school better than anyone."
"The school?" I asked, utterly confused, "Why would we hide them here?"
"They'll send the Elite through our houses," Lena said. "They would never suspect one of their own establishments to be harboring illegal books."
As the reality of what she said hit me, I began to think of a good hiding place, somewhere no one but a select few people knew about. The idea popped into my head, and I pulled out my phone, dialing my friend Kendra's number. She was a techie like me, which meant she had extensive knowledge of the school's less traveled places, if my idea was going to work, I would need her help, "Okay, I'm calling in reinforcements, Kendra will definitly be able to help us."
"Hey, I know Kendra!" Braken said. "She's on the stage crew with you, right?"
"Yeah, which is exactly why I need her," I said smiling, then Kendra answered her phone. "Hey, I've got a. . . project. . .and I need your help, you in? . . .Oh yes . . . sweet! Hurry over to the commons."
"Where are we going?" Jenna asked, suddenly suspicious. "I'm not going to put my books just anywhere!"
"I know, this is me we're talking about, I wouldn't either," I answered. "Let's just wait for Kendra."
Seconds later, Kendra was runnign towards us, "Cera! What is the plan?"
"We need to hide our books," I explained quickly. "I was thinking the 'upper-maze' would be the perfect place to do it. What do you think?"
Her green eyes lit up, "You would actually put your books up there?"
"After some modifications, of course, which is where you could be especially helpful," I replied with a nod.
"Oh! Plywood, or 2x4s?" she asked instantly.
"I think we'll need both," I answered, throwing her a high-five.
The way those two instantly knew what the other was talking about made me want to laugh. I still had no idea what Cera (and, obviously, Kendra) had in mind.
"Wait, where are we going?" Ari asked looking terrified.
"You won't actually have to go up," Cera assured her, "you can act as look out. Come with me you guys."
"Yeah, okay, but where?"
"You know I'm terrified of heights," Jenna said.
"Do your books matter enough for you to go up there?" Cera asked, looking Jenna straight in the eye. "Besides, once you're up there, it doesn't feel as high as it is. I'm going to have to show you."
Jenna gulped, but nodded. Cera got up and led the way toward the auditorium, passing the small snack shack in the wall, and righ tup to a lone door that was always locked. Undeterred, Cera pulled it open and Kendra walked in, followed by everyone else, with me bringing up the back. I paused when I realized that going through this door would bring about a change in my life. I would be signing some sort of invisible contract of trust, cementing our friendships, and taking my name down as a permanent member of this rebellion, along with all that sworn to secrecy stuff, all in one step. Frightening, no?
"Braken?" Cera was standing right in front of me, "You don't have to come with us. . .it will probably be dangerous. It's a lot to ask, especcially since you just - just met these guys. We could really use your help though."
Her eyes were full of hope, and her smile was bright.
"Where are we going?"
She looked up and down the hall, and then came up right next to me, pulled me down so she could whisper directly into my ear, "It's a techie secret. A place only a select few get to go. We're going to hide them in the vents."
Making direct eye-contact, so that there would be no misgivings, I said, "Count me in."
She whooped, and turned up the stairs. Smiling, I stepped over the door frame, and ran up after her.