"What are you doing?"
I pack my wallet, a water bottle, and a pen? I don't know why I have a pen...
"I'm coming to work with you," I state confidently. I don't fully know what this will entail.
"Hey, I think you're forgetting something," she crosses her arms.
"Hmm?," I pull on my shoes.
She inches closer, "Where were you last night? Why were you in such a rush to get out of the annual cookout? I thought it was somewhat important to you. You know, a family event where we could all spend quality time together, and just relax, especially because I've been working a lot lately."
"Right," I point. "And in that spirit, I am joining you for work to really let the White House experience sink in."
Also, I wouldn't exactly classify last night as forgettable...
I vividly remember an awkward chin encounter, a towel, kissing, long talks, more kissing...
She raises an eyebrow. "Also, I want to spend quality time with you, mom," I put on my best smile. Which is easier to believe, this or the fact that I want to sus out the media department of the White House?
"Mmhmm," she sighs. "Well, I can't blame you for wanting to see what I do everyday, while aiding the New World," she beams.
Yep. Just sheer curiosity and genuine intentions.
Ferguson's Correctional Facility, HI
"What the fuck were you thinking?!," he seethes. "You know I work in high places. My son cannot be seen as a conniving little misogynist. How could you? You betrayed me, our family, the entire world! What do you have to say for yourself?"
His son doesn't answer.
"Hmm?," he snaps.
"I-I don't know, dad."
"Oh, you don't know," he takes a deep breath, "Andrew, you better figure it out. As of now, all the partying, hanging out with friends, coming home at all hours of the night—it's over. Give me your phone."
"Dad, are you serious? I need it for—"
"You don't need it for anything. You're lucky I don't throw you in one of those cells for a 3 month sentence."
"Sentence? I thought it was just 'education'," he airquotes.
His father frowns. "I'm a congressman, for God's sakes. I wrote up the law authorizing these helpful camps. I won't have you making me look like a fool."
He directs his son to their family truck.
"Dad, I just think this system—it's not right. Reversing the scales completely doesn't eliminate the evil," he says earnestly.
The truck pulls off into the highway, revealing three particularly smart looking men. One more intelligent than the others, or so he thought.
"We're professionals," one exclaimed. "How did we just get thrown into that shithole of a detention camp?"
"I believe it's called an education camp."
"Shut it, John," Hewey and Dewey say in unison.
John rolls his eyes, "The first thing we need to work on is getting that device back."
"What if this was all a hoax?," the others look confused. "What if that whole group was just part of the government's efforts to destroy all opposers of the New World?," Hewey asks.
"Shit, we really need that device back," Dewey says.
"If government officials get a hold of this technology, there's no telling what the hell could happen," Hewey remarks, with a grave, truly horrified look. "Look what happened when those scientists got a hold of those chemicals."
The others nod.
"Where's the last place we saw it?," Dewey asks.
"Somewhere in that basement..." John trails off.
"So the first place we need to go is Maryland. We need to get back to that apartment building. No wonder they met up in a broken down apartment: it was fraudulent all along," Hewey seethes.
"Don't you think that if this whole thing was a hoax, we would have been sentenced already?," John interjects.
Hewey scowls, "Fine, let's go."
Shawn's POV:
What the hell has she done to me? We mostly just talked, but last night was the most fun I've had with her—arguably with any girl.
Kara has substance—something I thought she lacked for the longest. I'd settled with the reality of my position as a sex object. It's what most girls want out of me, and I provide it. But, Kara's avoidance of the topic entirely just... it's just new. Different.
Now, I'm panicking because I don't know how to act around her. Once things get romantic with a girl, my brain swirls around that one thing—because it's what I expect they want. Not Kara. I guess I can just act like we did before all this, before that first kiss at that awful bitch's party, but with a twist. I can handle it—an unconventional relationship. This is 100% out of my comfort zone. Any other girl, and I would have moved on by now. But honestly I can't stop thinking about... how much I hated her. Well, not hate... exactly. Just how much she annoyed me, thinking she was better than everyone else. I thought that about her whole fucking friend group. Part of it is true. But now, it's like an about face, a full 180.
My phone buzzes with a notification.
"Getting info," she texts with a winking emoji.
I can tell she genuinely cares about why I want all this to change, something I certainly couldn't say about her a couple weeks ago. I stood up Rochel for her, and she's usually the person I always go back to...
Seriously, what is happening to me?
Kara's POV:
We sit in silence for a while. Eerie silence.
"Don't fuck up," he replies.
"Shut the hell up."
Mom raises her eyebrow at me. Whoops, I said that out loud.
"Sorry," I whisper. I need to type it instead.
"Who are you saying that to?" she asks.
"Just my good friend, Shawn," I say.
"Good friend, as in how they write it in history books?" she chuckles.
"What, mom?"
"Are you good friends or goood friends?"
"I think we've already established that he and I are just friends. No need to spread your judgement over a harmless friendship. Not like I'm gonna marry the guy."
She nearly chokes on her coffee, "Right."
"Mmkay, we're here," she turns into the lot.
She's told me that she spends most of her time chained to a cubicle computer or in meetings. Sounds fun... not.
I guess I'm going to see what exactly computer work includes.
"As I've told you, before you took this sudden interest in my work, I'm in the social media department. I help monitor posts about the New World, especially offensive posts. We take really offensive posts down, and then we interview the posters just to see--"
"Whether they should be locked up or not?"
Shit I blew my cover.
"Locked up? No. Just to see where the problem arises. The chemicals, released 20 years ago, embedded a certain way of thinking into everyone. Those who stray from that need to be examined and enrolled into educational camps, or personally prescribed the chemicals, in pill form."
She says that with so much confidence, but it sounds horrific.
All this time, and I've never thought about the possibility of my mom's going through my posts. She probably has...
We walk up the blue and gold carpeted stairs, and we enter the cool AC. We're surrounded by women, women in suits, women at desks, heels click-clacking up and down the hallway. Back in the early 2000s, this many women would be unheard of in the White House. One good thing about the Reversal is a real chance to see women in power. Not a short-lived movement, and not a social media post, but real change.
"Here we are," she points into the cubicle. "My office. I'm going to get some extra paper and pens."
I sit down next to her desk.
Pretty boring...
*cue elevator music*
Then he calls.
"What the fuck do you want? Asshole," I add.
"I-I'm sorry."
"Sorry means absolutely nothing when you were fine with making me seem like a fool in front of the whole school!" I burst.
"You were fucking him while we were together. I should have known. That's why you never touched me in that way. You were too busy with him."
"Please, don't act like you're all innocent."
Well, that was unexpected. I thought he was groveling.
"What?"
"I see you with Shawn. You're all close to him all of the sudden. You're just as bad as me, maybe worse.
He thinks... he really thinks that... I'm fuming right now.
"The only reason I'm not fully saying my mind is because I'm at my mom's office right now."
"She'd be proud to hear about this."
"If you even mention telling her about this again, I swear. You started cheating on me months ago. You don't get to be a victim."
I hang up the phone in a rage-filled fury. He's got some fucking nerve.
Some footsteps approach me. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah, mom. I just want the full experience. Walk me through your day."
"Okay. So, I just got coffee--"
"More coffee," I cross my arms.
"I can either do my job or be asleep," she shrugs, gesturing toward the door, "Come on."
"This is the break room. We're all professionals, but someone always ends up getting their food stolen--everyday. It's ridiculous."
I chuckle, "So someone has stolen yours?"
She nods. "Even the special lunches I make you sometimes?"
"Fun fact: I used to throw away your special lunches because you were the worst cook at 10 years old," she smiles awkwardly.
She did what?
I try not to let the horror show. "That's fine, mom," I grit my teeth.
"Okay," she pipes up, "Next stop: computer room."
We enter a bright white room. Shiny quartz desks are lined perfectly up and down the floor. Large macbook desktops cover each desk. This room is super organized. I can only hope for this structure in my room.
"We do research on these--"
"Like finding people's addresses?"
Her exopression shifts to confusion, then back to normal. "The master computer," she points, "is used to locate people from their social media accounts. You need a special key to use it, as people's addresses are classified information."
"Right. So if I put in my username to any social media app, you could find our house, like in a matter of seconds?"
"Correct. So don't post anything crazy."
I straighten, "Mom, I need to ask a serious question."
She nods. "If I were to go against the Reversal on social media, would you throw me into one of those education camps?"
She walks closer to me, "Honey, I don't know. If I did send you to one of those, though, it'd be for your own good," she smiles. That's when I fully realize how grave Shawn and I's mission is. The world is brainwashed, and we must save it. Soon, real soon.
We sit behind her desk for a while. There really is a boring as all hell part of this job--6 hours of it.
The work day's over at about 5pm, finally. It's not even my job and I feel beat. I haven't talked to Shawn in a while. I'm still not fully sure about the terms of our new arrangement. If I call too much, will I seem too clingy? I barely called before, so maybe I should stick to that.
He saves me with a text, "Come over."
A come over text. I've only seen these in movies. Jack's cheating ass never sent me a "come over" text--maybe those were reserved for the guy in that picture. I need to stop thinking about that, but it's not very easy. It's not a switch that I can flick. I devoted so much of my time and emotions to Jack that... sadly it's going to take a little while to get over it.
I guess I'm coming over.
I knock on the door. I don't know what I'm going to see. A lot of dramatic shit has happened at this door. I should brace myself. It can either be Shawn's mom naked on the couch, or him in a towel--two extremes.
He opens it, surprisingly fully clothed. "Hey," he says lowly. "Haven't talked to you all day."
"You said 'don't fuck up'," I quote.
"I mean real conversation."
"I wasn't sure how I should approach contacting you from now on. I kinda went from waiting to see your calls/texts to deciding to do it on my own, then back and forth..."
He pulls me inside and plants his lips on mine.
"That never fails to shut you up," he laughs.
I roll my eyes, "I only shut up because I wanted to." Can't let him know he has some control over me.
"You're aware that we haven't established a full plan for," he pulls out the remote.
"Right," I slap my forehead, "Time has been scarce lately."
"I was thinking we could do something fun and plan at the same time."
"What'd you have in mind?"
"Camping."
Camping...
"You camp?"
"Yeah, it's fun, I swear."
Famous last words.