Something in the Water

EMMA:

I kick Ben's door open when I bring him his tray of dinner - a hot bowl of soup and crackers. He grimaces at it, like he's been eating the same meal for a week straight.

"Thanks." He says, holding his hands out for the tray. He adjusts it on his lap and dunks a cracker in the soup.

I sit with my legs crossed on his bed, facing him. His hair sticks up in funny places, but I don't tell him. He thinks he can make it back to school tomorrow, which satisfies me. I guess it really was just a reaction.

Our eyes meet again, and I see he's waiting for me to say something. "Do you think she meant what she said? About our baby being a miracle?" I ask.

"I don't know." He says honestly. "I don't think they trust us to make our own decisions anymore."

I accept his answer. "It just doesn't make sense to me. I don't know who is on my side anymore...I feel like there's more than one side to be on."

I don't know if it's the medication he's on, or if he's being serious, but he says something that completely changes my perspective. "Maybe you feel like no one is on your side because you don't even know what side you're on."

I wrinkle my forehead because I'm thinking so hard. I can't grasp that any of this is even real, let alone form an opinion. So far, I've just gone with my gut and my instinct. This is where it got me, and I don't know if it's good or bad.

"I mean, I don't really know what side I'm on." Ben tells me. "No one expects you to know, either."

"You're not on a bad side, though. Right?"

He hesitates just a second longer than necessary. "No. I mean, yes - I'm on your side."

I hug my knees to my chest. "I don't trust her, or any of them."

"She can't do anything without your permission." He says. "Don't worry about that."

A somewhat random thought pops in my head and slips past my lips before I can catch it. "There's a stupid rumor going around at school that Sam is the baby's dad."

Ben almost chokes on his spoonful of soup. He touches his throat. "What?"

I'm frustrated with myself for just blurting it out, but I'm also frustrated with the rumor itself. "I don't know who the hell decided it was okay to make up lies."

He clears his throat. "And people actually believe it?"

I shrug, and it suddenly makes sense. "Maybe because you haven't been around to defend yourself, and Sam and I have been going everywhere together." I recall all of the hand-holding and sitting at lunch together that we've been doing, all without Ben anywhere in sight. I would probably believe it, too. "That's still no excuse."

Ben takes another spoonful of soup to coat his throat. "We'll work on clearing that up tomorrow." He winks at me.

I smile back at him. His voice is scratchy and rough, and I can't help but find it very attractive. "I don't want you to get me sick."

"It's an allergy, Em. It's not contagious." He says smartly.

I spot Ben's eddy - short for eduPad, the portable touchscreen computer that supplies and keeps track of all our academics and schoolwork - hidden under his blankets. I pull it out and press the home button. "Have you caught up with everything you missed?" I slide my finger over to the Homework tab.

"Uh," He mumbles.

I have to freak out when I see the eight incomplete assignments that are due when he returns to school - which is tomorrow. "Ben!"

"I've been sleeping." He says. "I can't do my homework when I'm sleeping."

"All the lessons are still on here! You could have figured it out and then took a nap." I tell him, even though sleep was important in making him healthy again.

Ben groans and leans towards me, dropping his head in my lap. "Can't you trade eddys with me?"

"It wouldn't work." I sigh. "They track this one to your name."

He closes his eyes and stays lying in my lap. I run my fingers through his hair and consider the consequences of him slacking in schoolwork. The reason they give us the eddys is to have a detailed and specific account of our grades and work ethic - another topic addressed in the Evaluation. If Ben looks like he's slacking, they'll keep it in mind when they evaluate us. Then again, it's only eight assignments. He'll catch up eventually.

. . . . . . . .

The two men in the Evaluation uniforms look intimidating, but I'm not sure that's what we're aiming for. "Dad, I don't think this is really necessary."

"You know as well as I do that those cameras will be all over both of you today. I'm not taking any chances." He's right, and it will be even more trouble today because it's the first time Ben and I will be seen out in public together since we left the hospital.

The two Evaluators that my father trusts most were assigned to escort us into school. Not only will we cause a scene, but we'll look like we're scared. I don't want to look scared, even though I am.

"It's just until we get into school." Ben says with his scratchy voice. "Then the cameras will be gone."

"I can guarantee they will return after school." Dad says, like he's seen this before. "We'll be there to escort you."

I imagine the scene in my head. The cameras will flash and point at our faces, the Evaluators marching beside us like a threat. The students at school staring at us because we're "famous". It gives me chills.

Ben curls his arm over my shoulder when we're guided into the Evaluators' car. I'm afraid to talk to him. I've only been in one of these cars twice, and they still manage to frighten me. The outside is a dark blue that matches their uniforms, and the windows are tinted to match. The inside is coated in black leather, and smells like the Evaluation offices. It's a smell that's hard to express, but holds the scent of ink and power. Lots of power.

One of them, I think my dad called him Hartford, voices his request for the car to take us to our school. The car responds in confirmation, and the vehicle begins to move. The Evaluators sit in the two seats ahead of us, facing in our direction. Their faces are stiff, forever stuck in a stern and serious expression. Their jaws are tight, and their eyes are gray. They're young, maybe in their early thirties, and they would strikingly resemble my father if youth wasn't a factor.

It doesn't take long to get to school, and it's when we pull up that I realize the attention we'll recieve arriving in an Evaluation car. Ben turns his head to see out my window. We both can't miss the sea of people gathered at the entrance of the school, armed with their cameras and mics and everything else needed to broadcast my life to the public.

"I don't..." I swallow with my dry throat. "I don't want to do this again."

Ben just squeezes my hand.

The Evaluators exit the car and open our doors. All I can think of is how the hell I managed to escape these people when Ben wasn't here.

"Just keep your head down." Ben tells me, before he takes the risk of getting out first. Once he's out, I do my best in blocking out the shouting and noise. I reach for his hand and squeeze the daylights out of it. The Evaluators flank us on each side, manuevering easily through the crowd as they step to the side to accomodate power. The funny thing is, the Evaluators in a whole aren't physically intimidating. Most of them probably weigh no more than 220 pounds, and their height is just a little above average. They aren't scary, but they're dangerously intimidating.

I raise my eyes briefly when we reach the doors to the entrance. I don't even have time to thank the men for escorting us, because they throw us through the doors and close them tight again.

Ben takes an audible breath, and the only reason I can hear it is because it's so quiet now. I blink slowly, and take into perspective the hallways filled with students. Unlike the day I returned, they are as silent as snowfall. No whispers, no side comments. Just silence, other than the drowned out voices of crazy camera people outside.

The staring is still here, though.

For some reason, I take the time to look at each face. Some I recognize, some are strange. One belongs to my best friend - if she still is my best friend. I feel a sense of stage fright starting to sink in, and I'm quickly frozen.

The doors behind us suddenly burst open, and everyone basically jumps out of their skin. It's only the Evaluators that manage to get past the doors. The people outside seem to be gone that fast.

The students immediately return to whatever they were doing before we made a grand entrance.

"Is everything alright?" The other one asks me. His name escapes my memory.

I open my lips, but have trouble forcing out an answer. "I think so." Ben answers for me.

He nods once. "We'll be back around three o'clock."

Ben waits until they leave again to talk to me. "Emma?"

I can't respond, because I'm focused on deciding what will be on the news this evening.

I feel his hands encase my face, but it's the warmth in my lips that knocks me out of my frozen state. My eyes flutter closed and I grab onto his arms to stabilize my weak knees. The tips of his fingers tangle loosely in my hair as the kiss deepens.

My eyes snap open and I jerk away, remembering where we are and how hundreds of eyes were focused on us not two minutes ago. "What are you doing?" I splutter, checking to see if the eyes strayed or kept watching.

He kisses my head one more time and holds my hand tightly in his own. "Clearing up that rumor."