There are eight of us. Enough that if anyone in the village notices one of us missing, they will soon find out that we all are. Mateo, Rama, Yuki, Nadia—they are the first to climb over the wall. I'm the last. Not because I want to be, but because they're always picking me last for everything. Today is no different.

When it's my turn, they lift me up, gripping my arms tight, but I can barely hold on. The wall wasn't made to be climbed. It was made to keep us Onans out. I know this. I've known it since I was four years old. Yet—here I am, doing the one thing the elders had warned us not to do ever since we were children.

The sun's out and blazing; burning my skin like the flames are only a mile away, and sweat is running down my face like mad. My hair falls down to my waist, adding extra weight to my already burdensome body. I usually cut it down in the winter time and let it grow out the rest of the year. But this summer, I am regretting my choices.

"Jeza, you're not even trying!" I hear Yuki groan, as her nails dig into the crook of my arm. Yuki is the strongest of all of us, besides Mateo, and she is also the most ruthless. She has short red hair that swoops over her left eye, and the longest lashes I've ever seen on anybody. She doesn't care that her nails are ripping through my skin, causing blood to ooze from its surface. All she cares about is getting me over the wall.

"Here, let me pull her up." Mateo steps in and uses all of his strength to lift me up over the edge of the wall, careful not to let my skin snag on the barbed wire. "Is your arm okay?" he asks, glancing at my fresh wound. Mateo has bright blue eyes that shine with warmth, and with one glance he can make you feel like you're the most capable person in the whole world. His teeth are white and straight—a rarity for those of us in the village. He's also the most handsome out of all the boys his age, but he never lets it get to his head.

"I'm alright," I say.

"Are you sure?" he asks, with a lift of his brow. "It's bleeding."

I shake my head. "I'm okay, Mateo."

We're hanging onto the forbidden side of the wall now, and I should be scared. But I'm not. Not with Mateo here.

Mateo and I have been friends ever since we were little. When he was four and I was three. He's always watching me and telling me to follow the rules and everything. But that all ended after what happened yesterday.

I can't blame Mateo for suddenly wanting to break the rules. Last night, he got humiliated rather publicly in front of the entire village for a mistake that wasn't entirely his fault. He accidentally broke a sacred two hundred year old vase with the help of Yuki, who bumped into him and denied ever being part of the whole thing. After that, Mateo packed his bag and said he was crossing over the border because he was tired of doing the same old things in the village—tending to the cows, then to the crops, then to the elders, and then waking up to do it all over again.

It was easier when we were all still in school. At least then there was a way for us to break the monotony of doing the same things over and over. But school ended for us when we were sixteen, and now that we're all seventeen and eighteen, it's no wonder we've been looking at the wall and envisioning what's on the other side of it.

Or rather, who's on the other side of it—the Arcanans.

"Will you two jump already!" Yuki is standing in the long grass below, with her hands on her hips.

I wish I had the confidence to shout back at her, but I don't say anything. My fingers tremble against the edge of the wall as I cling to it, not wanting to let go. And there are many reasons not to let go. I could get hurt. And I mean break-a-bone kind of hurt. The wall is tall enough to deter those with a sane mind from climbing it, but clearly, I am not sane. And neither are my friends—if I can even call Yuki that. She's more like an enemy. And if I'm being honest, I don't think she would care if I broke my leg.

"Are you ready?" Mateo looks at me. His pupils are dilated and his hands are shaking nearly as much as mine as he holds onto the wall.

I nod my head and take a deep breath.

"We'll do it together," he says. "On my count, okay?"

I move my hand over and place it over his, squeezing it tightly. "Okay."

"One, two…" he pauses, glancing at the ground below and then closes his eyes. "Three!"

We fall, and as the air rushes past me, birds chirp as they fly overhead. I'm jealous of them. They can fly wherever they want without a care in the world—not like me. I care too much. I care that everyone is staring at me when I land on my back in the tall grass. And I care that Yuki is bent over, laughing hysterically while a sharp pain erupts through my spine.

With my hand on my back, I try to sit up, but the pain is fierce. Elvire, Harolin, and Kateri run to my side and lift me up by my arms. When I'm on my feet, I sway, which only makes Yuki laugh harder.

"Yuki…come on, she's hurt." Harolin says in a hushed voice.

Harolin is the oldest of all of us—eighteen going on nineteen—and she's like a sister to me. She pushes my hair behind my ear and turns my face to look at her.

"Be honest with me—do you want to go back to the village?" she asks, looking me straight in the eye. "You don't have to do this, Jeza. If you feel like you're…"

"I'm not going back home," I say, stepping away from her, my back aching still. "I can do this."

"Don't you have a recital?" Yuki says, her hands crossed over her chest. She's stopped laughing now and her entire demeanor has changed. Her eyes are narrowed to the point where she's nearly squinting. "Haven't the elders been talking about it for months now? Why don't you go back over the wall and—"

"I'm not going back!" I shout.

Everyone is silent. It's not like me to yell. I never yell at anybody. I'm usually the one who lets other people do the yelling, but a fire is burning in my chest and it's telling me there is no way I'm going back over that wall. Not yet. Not before we've even made this trip worth it. I already know that once we return to the village our parents and the elders will make sure that we never get the opportunity to leave again.

I look around and see nothing but grass, trees, and sunlight. It isn't so bad—nothing like what the elders led us to believe. We're standing in a valley, right at the edge of the forest. The same forest we saw on the map we found in Elder Frank's living room when he was lecturing us about the importance of sacred objects. Mateo stole the map and quickly came up with the plan to climb the wall.

I glance over at him. He's carrying a black bag on his shoulder and I'm certain that the map is inside it.

"Can I see the map?" I say, gesturing towards the bag. "I can help navigate."

The girls stay quiet. I look at Elvire, who's biting her lip and rubbing the edges of her eyebrows. It's the same look she always gives when she think something is a bad idea.

"Maybe it's better to have Mateo navigate. I mean, he knows what he's doing." Elvire turns her head to look at him. "Right, Mateo?"

Mateo scratches the back of his head. "I'll hang onto the map. But you can help me. There's nothing wrong with that."

"She'll get us lost," Nadia says. "Just let Mateo do the navigation and Jeza you can just…stay out of the way."

I open my mouth to object, but then I catch sight of the looks the girls are giving me. It's a collective you shouldn't even be here look. And I know they're right. I'm the "darling" of the village—the one who follows orders, entertains the elders, and focuses on what I do best—performing. I do what I'm asked and I always follow through. The recital tomorrow has been in the planning stages for months and I'm the opening act. They'll cancel it after they realize I've gone missing and it's likely that the entire village will be in chaos.

This morning, all the girls had tried their best to talk me out of going with them. They said I'd ruin the whole thing if I went, and that out of everyone I'd be the first person whose absence would be noticed. But all I could think about was Mateo. If he was going, then I had to go, too. Even if it meant dealing with the snickers and looks of scorn from most of the girls.

Mateo pulls the map out of his bag and everyone gathers around to look at it. I stand behind Yuki, but her hand pushes me back, causing me to stumble. I ignore it and stand on my tip toes, focusing on Mateo as his fingers trace over the lines on the map. His finger stops at the space between the forest and the wall.

"This is where we are," he says, "but we need to go through here." Carefully, he slides his thumb towards the words 'Grundum Forest' which is etched into the map's worn paper in black ink.

"How long will it take us?" Harolin asks.

Mateo turns the map over in his hands, looking at it with his head tilted.

"A few hours," he says, "four at most."

"Four hours?" Kateri says, her brows lifted in surprise. "But what about nightfall?"

"We have about six more hours of daylight," Mateo says, looking at his watch. "When we make it out, we can set up camp over here—" he points to the opposite end of the forest on the map, where there's a bright depiction of a lake and a cascading waterfall. "In the morning we can make plans for where to go next."

"Do you think our parents will come looking for us?" Nadia asks. Her pale face is dripping with sweat, and her bangs cling to her forehead, sopping wet. She's seventeen—the same age as me—but you'd think she was older, the way she worries about everything.

Mateo pauses, biting the inside of his cheek. After a few seconds, he exhales deeply.

"I think they may want to, but they won't do it. They're terrified of everything. Probably think the Arcanans are standing at the border waiting to shoot them or something." Mateo shakes his head. "They've been lying to us for our entire lives. There's no danger here."

"Mateo's right," Rama says, breaking her long silence. "Look around us—it's beautiful!" she starts twirling around in circles and the other girls join in, jumping and dancing around in the grass.

Mateo smiles at them, and then glances at me.

"You still want to see the map?" he asks in a quiet voice.

I nod my head eagerly. He places the map gently in my hand and watches me as I examine it closely. The first thing I notice is a drawing on the north side of the forest that stands out more than anything else on the map. It's a picture of a city in a kaleidoscope of colors. In bright, silver swirly letters the word "Gliza" glimmers above it. I point to it and look up at Mateo, who towers over me.

"What is this?" I ask.

"It's the Arcanan Capitol," he says. "If you're curious about what the Arcanans are like in the flesh, that's where you'd want to go."

"Can we?" I ask.

Mateo shrugs his shoulders. "I don't know, Jeza. It's risky."

"You said it yourself—there's no danger here," I say, playfully hitting him on the shoulder. "What's the problem?"

"Nothing. It's just…what if they—"

"Are nothing like elders say?" I bring my finger to my chin. "Or worse—what if they are everything like the elders say?" I smile to myself. "Either way, I think it's worth knowing."

"We'll see what the others think," Mateo says, "I won't tell them it was your idea." He winks at me, and then runs up to the girls. They surround him as he points to the city on the map. I follow behind, kicking my feet in the grass, listening closely.

"I've never been to a city before!" Rama says, a wide grin on her face. "I think it's a great idea."

"More like a dumb idea," Yuki says, frowning. "Why go to the city where there will be Arcanans everywhere? It's not like we'll fit in. The Arcanans are—" she pauses, thinking carefully about her next words. But before she can finish, the girls finish for her.

"Beautiful," Kateri mutters under her breath.

"No—stunning," says Elvire.

"Absolutely gorgeous," says Rama.

"So what does that make us?" Harolin asks. "Are we not beautiful?"

"Not the way the Arcanans are," Nadia says, matter-of-factly. "It's not hard to fathom why they want nothing to do with us."

I've only seen pictures of Arcanans in history books, and yes, it's true. They are unspeakably gorgeous—tall, with translucent skin and over-sized eyes that make them appear half-human, half-alien. Not the kinds of aliens with green skin and antenna ears, but the ones that are so otherworldly beautiful that one can only come to the conclusion that they've come from another world. Arcanans ride a thin line between being human and being something else.

Whatever that something else is, they must've figured it out one hundred years ago, when they threatened war if we didn't move ourselves to the South—and being the peace-loving, non-threatening people that Onans are—we complied. Our united country, once known as Arcona, split into two separate territories—North Arcana, and South Ona, and it's been that way ever since.

Mateo clears his throat and runs his hand through his dark hair.

"We should get going," he says, glancing at his watch. He starts toward the forest with his bag slung over his shoulder and we follow after him. Yuki puts her arm around Mateo's shoulder as he walks and then looks at me with a mocking smile.

She thinks I like Mateo. Not in a big-brother kind of way. But in a I-would-kiss-him-if-I-had-the-chance kind of way. But it's not true. Okay, maybe it was true. I did try to kiss him when I was ten—seven years ago. But I've changed since then. I don't think about kissing boys and getting married and all that grown up stuff. I think about my duties in the village. About how I need to sing better and be better. I'm in a constant competition with myself—always wanting to beat the girl I was yesterday. But it's all been thrown out of balance now, with my leaving the village and all.

Mateo stops walking when we reach the outskirts of the forest and takes another look at the map. He scans it with his eyes for a moment, and then folds it up, placing it in his back pocket. Slowly, he shrugs Yuki's arm from his shoulder and turns around to face the rest of us, inhaling deeply.

"This is the final call…if anyone is having doubts," he says. "Once we start through the forest, I won't be going back."

"Ever?" Rama says, her mouth falling open.

Yuki snickers. "You know that's not true, Rama."

"Right…well, how long will we be away from the village? We only have enough food for two days," Rama says.

"Seven days," Mateo says, "if things go according to plan."

"If?" Rama says, her posture stiff.

Mateo doesn't answer. He turns around and jumps over a large tree stump that separates the entrance of the forest from the sprawling valley. We follow him one-by-one. When it's my turn the bottom of my pants snag on a branch sticking up out of the side of the stump and I trip. A part of me wants to stay on the ground, but I get up, dust off my knees, and jog to catch up to Mateo.

"You make everything seem so effortless," I say.

He doesn't stop moving forward to look at me. "What?"

"I said you make everything seem so—"

"No, I heard you," he finally looks at me, his light blue eyes gleaming. "I accept the compliment. It's just…I don't know what I'm doing half the time."

"Sure you do," I say. "You're Mateo Verdei. You know everything."

He smiles at our inside joke. I'm always telling Mateo that he's the smartest boy I know—but he doesn't believe me, which is kind of sad, because he really is the smartest boy I know. Even smarter than the elders sometimes.

He flashes a smile at me, breaking me out of my thoughts.

"You're smarter than me, Jeza," he says, pulling hanging branches out of our path. "Why else do you think I'd let you come with us?" He winks at me again and if it were coming from anyone but him I would have guessed it was flirting. Mateo is good at that—making me feel like he's doing what he isn't. It really drives me crazy sometimes. But I've gotten used to it.

We walk for hours, following Mateo's lead. He holds the map with assuredness, dodging tree branches, enormous rocks, and hasty insects. None of us question his ability to navigate because he's done this before. So many times I've lost count. Once a month in our village, all the boys older than sixteen get taken miles away from home and they're given one instruction—to find their way back with nothing more than a compass. The elders say it's to prepare them for something, but they never say what.

I think it's a test. A test to see who's the brightest out of all the boys. And Mateo wins, every time. At first, I thought it was just luck. But it turns out that he has an extraordinarily accurate sense of direction—one that will, hopefully, lead us out of this forest safely.

It's hard to see anything up ahead except for trees and moss clinging to hanging branches. When we started this adventure, the sun was shining brightly in the sky, but now its made its descent, painting what's visible of the sky in a whirl of purple and pink. If I'm being honest, I thought we'd be out of the forest before sunset, and I can only imagine how the girls are feeling about it. They are what I would call…impatient. And there's nothing that scares them more than the idea of being stuck in a forest in the middle of the night.

"How much longer?" Kateri whines as we venture deeper into the forest with no end in sight.

"I don't know," Mateo says.

"What?" Kateri replies, shooting an intense glare in Mateo's direction. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"We're still going to make it out before nightfall, right?" Rama asks.

Mateo doesn't look at them.

"It's going to take longer than I expected," he says, his voice firm. He looks up at the sky, which is being consumed by darkness quicker than our eyes can adjust.

"Could you give us a guess at least?" Elvire asks. She is panting harder than the rest of us, and I feel bad for her.

She has breathing issues—the kind that manifests sometimes when a baby is born to a mother who doesn't stop smoking during pregnancy. I don't know if that's what happened to Elvire, but it's the rumor that spread around the village when she passed out one time in primary school because she couldn't breathe.

"I don't know how much longer I can take this," she says, placing her hand on her chest.

Mateo stops walking and turns to look at Elvire. His eyes are wide. Lost. He pulls the map out of his back pocket, squinting at it, as if doing so will make it easier to read.

"I don't know where we are," he says, his voice hardly above a whisper.

My heart sinks. What does he mean he doesn't know? The map is right in his hand. He has to know where we are, because if he doesn't, that means there's no telling how long it will take us to reach the lake. It could take an hour, or three, or four or, Lord help us, all night. I tremble at the thought.

As I'm trying to keep my composure, Elvire falls to the ground, gasping for breath.

"I…can't…breathe," she says.

Harolin kneels beside Elvire and rubs her back. "You're okay, just try. Breathe. In and out. Come on…"

We're all watching as Harolin tries to calm Elvire down, and after a few minutes, it works. Elvire's breathing returns to normal and she's chugging from a pouch of water now, which reminds me of how dry my throat is. I wave Kateri over and ask her to give me a water pouch from her bag. She reluctantly hands one over, and I tilt my head back, drinking the whole thing in a few gulps.

After I finish, I look at Mateo. He's sitting on the ground now, his head hanging low, still trying to decipher the map.

"Mateo…" I say. "Let me see it. Maybe I can figure out where we are."

"Jeza, would you just stop? Stop distracting Mateo. Stop trying to be the center of attention. Just…stop."

These words come from Nadia, which shouldn't be much of a surprise. But still, her words sting me. If I could control my tears, I would—but I can't. They trickle down slowly, and I try to wipe them away, but they don't stop. They won't stop. I don't like it when people see me cry, especially the girls, so I do the one thing my body always tells me to do when I cry—run. 

I don't get far. A hand stops me and turns me around. It's Mateo. His arms wrap around me before I can protest.

"Get off, Mateo. I'm fine," I say, through gritted teeth, but he doesn't let go. I'm not even sure I want him to let go, but I put up a fight anyway. I wrestle my way out of his arms and walk away, not bothering to look back, but the sun is no longer visible in the sky and it's so dark that I can hardly see what's in front of me anymore. It's terrifying enough that I take several steps back, closing the distance between Mateo and I.

I am enveloped in his arms again, which gives me the illusion that I am safe. The reality, though, is that I'm not safe. Not from this forest and certainly not from the creatures that lurk about all around us—out of sight, but not out of mind.

Mateo tightens his arms around me and the scent of cedar wood fills my nose, making me forget, only for a moment, about what Nadia said. His hand slowly moves up and down the length of my arms, trailing the goosebumps that have risen up over my skin, and it's comforting—the kind of comfort that obscures everything that is hard in this world, if only for a little while. His chin is nestled on top of my head and for a long time, he just holds me. No words. Just his skin touching my skin.

Feelings that my ten-year-old self had for Mateo are flaring up, and I push them down deep in the farthest corner of my mind, pretending they don't exist. Because they don't.

Mateo is my friend. My best friend. I've never been closer to anyone else in my whole life—not even to my own parents. Maybe that' why I feel so vulnerable in his presence, as if he could break me if he isn't careful enough. I'm a porcelain doll in his arms. Delicate. Easy to break. But I trust him when he holds me. I don't know if I could ever trust anyone else more.

I want to say something—anything. I wish I could tell him that my heart always beats fast when he's near, and that I have no idea what to do about it. But then I think about the girls. Nadia's words play in my ears again, and more tears fall from my eyes. I reach up to wipe them away as Mateo lets go of me.

"Why doesn't anyone like me?" I ask, my lips trembling.

Mateo's eyes go wide, as if what I've said has taken him completely by surprise. He shakes his head and then lifts a lock of hair away from my eyes so I have an uninterrupted view of him.

"Do you honestly believe that?" he asks.

"Why wouldn't I?"

He scratches his jaw, where bristles of newly grown hair pokes out; it's not his signature look. Most of the time, he's clean-shaven. But ever since he turned eighteen, he's been wanting to look older. It only reminds me of how quickly time has passed since we were kids. I'm not standing in front of six-year-old Mateo, or eleven-year-old Mateo. I'm standing in front of a grown man. A grown man who knows how badly I'm treated by the girls in the village, and yet, he's acting like my words don't make sense.

"Jeza…you're extremely talented," he finally says, after a long moment of silence. "Do you know that?"

"I don't know," I say. "All I know is that no matter what I say, someone has a problem with it. I don't know what I am because I can never be me. You see how Nadia treats me. How Yuki treats me. How they all treat me. The only person who gives me a break is Harolin. Sometimes I wonder if she thinks as lowly of me as everyone else," I pause after that, drying more tears from my cheeks. "The only person who likes me enough to stick up for me is you. I can't trust anyone else."

"You'll always have me," he says, and then his gaze drops to the ground beneath his feet. He stays looking at the ground for a moment and then looks back up at me, his blue eyes more intense than they were before. "You don't have to be liked, you know. You're strong. You don't need anyone's approval. I don't like you feeling like this. Not when the truth is that the girls are all just—"

Mateo is halted mid-sentence by a scream. It echoes through the trees, activating a visceral part of me that I didn't know existed. It's the scream of someone who is doomed—someone who knows they are doomed. Every internal mechanism in my body is telling me: run, RUN, before that becomes you. 

The forest is nearly pitch-black now, and besides the sound of growling in the distance, all I can hear is the screaming. Girls screaming. And I run; not in the direction my body wants me to go—as far away from the screams as possible—but towards them.