Need (33 page)

I blink and try not to show my surprise. Not at the new potato. That I knew about. The old strain of potato had a half-inch hard skin that turned black when exposed to air. Something to do with whatever genetic enhancement Dad gave it to survive in the blighted soil in the first place. For the most part no one cared about the black skin. Once you cut away the outside, the potato was safe to eat. But Zeen decided to try his hand at a new version and succeeded brilliantly. So, no, it is not the potatoes that have caught me off-guard, but the words Dad uses to announce them. Last week he told us that Zeen was going to get full credit for the project.

But he doesn't. Zeen's name is never mentioned.

I crane my neck, trying to see Zeen in the crowd. Does he look disappointed? This was supposed to be a moment of triumph for him. Is he as confused as I am? I find him leaning against a tree in the middle of the applauding crowd. Several people are slapping him on the back because he is a member of Dad's team. But his smile doesn't fool me. The set of his jaw and the narrowing of his eyes tell me better than words that he has felt the slight.

Dad leaves the stage to more applause and our teacher takes his place. My stomach clenches and my breathing quickens. This is it. I am about to graduate.

Ms. Jorghen smiles back at us. Then she says into the microphone, “I am very proud to read the roster of graduates who today pass from their studies into adulthood.”

One by one she announces the names of our graduating class. One by one my classmates walk to the center of the stage, shake Magistrate Owens's hand, and then take their place back in line. The names are read in alphabetical order, so mine isn't called until the end.

“Malencia Vale.”

My legs are unsteady from nerves and stiff from standing. I walk over to the podium and shake both Ms. Jorghen's and the magistrate's hands while the crowd applauds. Daileen's cheers can be heard above all others, and her smile makes me respond with one of my own. My heart soars. I'm officially an adult. I did it.

Still grinning, I return to my place with my class as Magistrate Owens takes the podium. The crowd goes silent. A ripple of anticipation makes my stomach churn. My hands clench and unclench in anticipation. If any students have been selected for The Testing, this is when it will be announced. I crane my neck, trying to spot an unknown face in the crowd—the rumored Tosu City official.

Only there is no Tosu City official. Magistrate Owens gives us all a big smile and says, “Congratulations to all of this year's students and especially to our graduates. I can't wait to see what your futures hold.”

The crowd cheers again and my lips curl into an automatic smile even as disappointment and tears lodge in my throat. I have been preparing for this day for years and now it is over. As are my dreams for the future. No matter how hard I worked, I wasn't good enough to be chosen for The Testing.

As I leave the stage and am given hugs of congratulations by my friends, I can only wonder,
What will I do now?

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J
OELLE
C
HARBONNEAU
began telling stories as an opera singer, but these days she finds her voice through writing. She lives near Chicago with her husband and son, and when she isn't writing, she works as an acting and vocal coach. She is also the author of the best-selling Testing series.