August 2, 2115

After the assembly, I have physical education. All the students probably won't be done till lunch, but we were asked to go to class once we got our results. It's third period now, and the halls are emptying.

I get to the locker room right as the bell rings. Khara is there waiting for me, as usual.

"Layta!" She says loudly.

I smile uncomfortably and walk to her. Her face shows no pain, and her stature is proud; as if she just got an A on a test or impressed someone, but I can tell by the way she holds her arm that it hurts.

"Oh, hey!" I say, trying to sound upbeat. "Can I see your tattoo?"

She proudly holds up her hand, showing flushed skin trying to get blood out of a scar on her hand!

The scar is roughly carved into swirling designs. The design is beautiful, but the blood ruins it. I can tell that it will look really nice against her tan skin once it has healed, but for now... ew.

"That's horrid!" I say, trying not to vomit. I hate the sight of blood.

"That's what grannies say," She says without a hint of pain in her voice.

"I'm a modern." I say defensively, holding my tattoo in my hand.

"That's nice." She says plainly.

I was expecting a little reaction, but I guess that I did act a lot like a modern. Both of our eras were expected, sort of.

"Anyway, do you want to ditch today?" She asks.

"No!" I say sharply. I would usually make up some lame excuse about getting good grades and following the rules, but I decided against it. "No, I thought PE was your favorite class. And now that you're an ancient, it's required. For you, PE is more important than math."

She thinks for a second, re gathers her PE clothes; camo workout pants and a gray tee shirt. We all have to wear it. "Yeah, I guess so. Anyway, get changed! We're gonna be late!"

She goes off, and I change quickly. I re do my bun into something sturdier, then we head to the gym together.

Today, we focused on distance running. As usual, I sucked.

We're supposed to run as far as we can on the track in forty minutes. Each lap is about a fourth of a mile. Khara stays by me for a while at the beginning, but she gets bored and goes at a much faster pace later on. I take about ten walking breaks, much to Mrs. Kamik's disliking. "Move it, Layta!" She says about eighty times. "A tree could out run you!"

By the time we are done, I am gasping for breath. Khara looks tired, but just barely. She got a stunning total of six and a half miles. I got one and a half.

The day seems slow. My hand with the tattoo on it aches; I'm sure this ink isn't good for kids.

At the end of the day, I'm exhausted.
I can barely peddle my bike down the road.

When I go home, I do something I don't often do; I take my strawberry blond hair out of the tight bun, and un button my shirt. I have a white tank top under it, but I'm usually in dress code. I feel exposed, but in a good way. I want to take a nap again, but my mind can't relax.

I haven't seen my parents in days, and I desperately need to talk with someone close to me. They always leave for work at four, and come home at ten. I'm supposed to be in bed by nine, so I usually spend all of my free time alone. They have Sunday's off, but still. I'm lucky I have parents; a lot of other kid's parents are at war, dead, or lost. But I wish I could've with them more often. I get lonely easily.

The Michael's, Khara's family, invites me over sometimes, which I'm terribly grateful for. They're more of a family to me than my parents ever were.

My mom looks pretty much like me, but just with redder hair. My dad is tall, and blond. They both have silver eyes, while I have bronze. I wish they would have another kid, so I could have some company and a sibling. But they were always too busy for kids; they could barely cope with me and all their work.

A ringing pulls me from my thoughts. I realize that it's the phone, and I get up from the love seat. We aren't allowed to have phones, but since my parents work with the government, we got one. The chirping sound of it mixes with the padding sound of my bare feet on concrete floor.

I pick it up and say hello.

"Hey, Layta! It's Dylan."

"Hey. What do you need?" I ask.

"Nothing," he says, pausing to find the right words. "we just wanted to invite you over."

"Alright. Be there in a minute."

He hangs up without saying bye. I'm so close to the Michaels, we treat each other like siblings.

I sigh, then put my hair back up and bottom my shirt. I slip on my boots, then grab my bike. Their house is only a few blocks away, but walking is too slow for me.

Their house is two stories tall, but they have a basement. Mine only has one floor. All of the houses are gray and boring, but the Michael's house sis obviously owned by a big family. Dirt clods and mud smears from shoes and boots decorate the porch, and sharpie scribbles cover the bottom half of the door. The grass is torn up from wrestling wars and chase games, and bikes are thrown across the yard. I get off mine and add it to the collection.

But there is an eerie presence in the air. I see the chancellor in front of the door, and Khara is half-naked and wet before her. She notices me, and her face goes blank.

The chancellor, Mrs. Tayy, is pretty much the head of the city, or what people used to call mayor. But she is strictly involved with our training and lives. If someone has a baby, it's her job to visit their house and ask a ton of questions. If someone dies, she asks their relatives about them. She also represents the city at meeting with the president. How does she do it all? I don't know.

Every new school year, she chooses 20 moderns and 20 ancients with the highest scores to "audition" for a special training facility. Only 5 of each era go to the facility. They train together for a while, then get separated for 100 days to train by themselves. When they return, they are stricter, smarter, and stronger than ever. You get paid extra when you join the army if you got picked and trained there, and you can join earlier.

If Khara is chosen, then I won't see her for nearly three months. When she gets back, they'll have brain washed her into a killing machine. She probably won't be my friend anymore. Sure, she may not get picked, but she is very strong and rebellious. The chances of her getting in the camp are high.

Khara continues talking with the chancellor, then she invites her in. Right before she closed the door, she sends me a message with her eyes and gestures to the side of the house.

I know what she's talking about. Once the door is closed, I run across the yard and jump over the small fence to her back yard. I hop down into the first window well I see, feeling a slight pain up my legs.

I see Khara open her bedroom door, then she unlocks the window and slides it to the side.

I jump in her room quickly and slide the window shut.

"Get out!" She says quietly. "I need to get dressed!"

I go out without questioning her, closing the door quietly behind me.

"Why is the chancellor here?!" I ask through the door.

"She wants to audition for that training thing."

"What?!" I say.

"I said-"

"I heard what you said!" I bark, interrupting her. "I know you're pretty good at being an ancient, but still!"

"I know, right?" Khara says.

I roll my eyes. "Well, anyway, what did she say?"

"She said that I'm part of the forty kids. We'll train in regular training, then we get tested. Only ten kids, five from each era, get to exceed."

"Okay. Has she told you who else is in the group?" I ask.

"No, but I bet she will."

She opens the door and runs up the stairs. She is wearing the average outfit, and her hair is up.

"Stay down here." She says to me, like I'm a dog.

She goes back up, and greets the chancellor. I sigh, and sit on a nearby beanbag.