Perfect (11 page)

“Okay, okay,” she replied, rolling her eyes.
“They’re not completely worthless. But anyway, that’s not the
point. The point is I want that leadership position.”

This time, it was my turn to roll my eyes.
Leadership. Power. Was that all Yvonne could think about? It was
all she ever talked about and seemed to be the only thing in the
whole world that she wanted. Her incessant ranting about power and
her need for it was starting to get old. Really old.

“Yvonne, is this really the right thing to
do?” I asked her tiredly, rubbing my eyes.

She looked at me quizzically, her expression
showing me she thought nothing was wrong with her plan. “Right
thing?” she echoed. “As in what, exactly?” Her eyes were narrowed,
watching me closely.

I shrugged, trying to think of a way to
explain. “I don’t know...like, morally right?” I asked. “You know,
right from wrong?”

Yvonne was staring at me incredulously.
“Morally,” she repeated, her tone of voice suggesting this was a
waste of her time.

I nodded.

“And why would I—”

“Because it’s the right thing to do, Yvonne,”
I interrupted her, exasperated and angry now. “I don’t know, maybe
just
the right thing
, doesn’t seem a good enough solution
for you. Because you don’t even care.”

Yvonne’s expression was getting harder with
every word I spoke. I gave an exasperated sigh and was about to
turn to leave when she stopped me cold. “You’re right, Drew, I
don’t,” Yvonne replied, practically spitting the words at me. “And
that’s what makes me so much better than you. Stupid things like
that don’t get in the way for me, like they do for you.”

I glared at her, holding back the rush of
foul words and comments that came to my mind. I stood there for a
moment, staring at the lamp lit pavement in front of me. “That’s
where you’re wrong,” I said after a minute, looking up to meet her
eyes. “You’re so wrong.”

Yvonne just glared back at me.

“You know what?” I realized for the first
time in my life I was standing up to Yvonne. I was tired of her
bossing me around like a puppet. I wasn’t afraid anymore. I was
annoyed. “I’m done with you. I’m done going along with your little
games. What you’re doing is wrong and I’m sick of being your little
accomplice.”

“You don’t have a choice,” Yvonne replied,
but her voice was lined with uncertainty. The light from the lamp
post cast eerie shadows across the pavement, shrouding Yvonne’s
face.

I let out a humorless laugh. “No choice? I’m
not afraid of you anymore. And your little tracking device? I don’t
even know if it really exists! I haven’t seen it since you flaunted
it in front of me in the forest, and from what I hear about the
creators, you’d think they’d be ready to kill you to get it from
your hands.”

“I told them I lost it,” she answered through
gritted teeth.

“I find it hard to believe that they bought
that,” I snapped. I shook my head. I was angry, more than angry.
“Goodbye, Yvonne.” And with one last glance I turned around and
started walking back to the hotel.

“Wait,” Yvonne called after me.

I kept going. I reached for the handle on the
door.

“What about your friend?” Her voice was
shrill.

I stopped. I turned. “What?”

Yvonne stepped into the light and some of the
panic drained from her expression. “Michael,” she said the word in
a mocking tone.

I started to walk back toward her, my eyes
narrowed. “What about Michael?” I asked slowly.

“What if I just happened to turn your little
boyfriend in? To be perfected?” She talked slowly, pronouncing
every letter, her glittering eyes watching my every move and
expression.

“You wouldn’t.” My voice was low.

“Oh, would I ever
.” A smile crawled
across her face. She knew she had me.

I froze, swallowing hard.

She let out a laugh. “Don’t you see, Drew?”
she asked gleefully. “You have
no
power here. I can control
your every move. You’re like a puppet.” Her smile was growing wider
now. “And don’t think that you can hide him away. Remember your
tracking device? And even if you’re not with him, he’ll be easy to
find.”

I turned away in frustration, curling my
hands into tight fists.

Yvonne laughed again. Her shrill,
high-pitched one that I used to think was so pretty. “What do you
say, Drew?” she asked playfully. “Who wouldn’t want a perfect
boyfriend?”

“Stop it,” I said through clenched teeth.
“I’ll help you with your stupid plan, just don’t touch him.”

Yvonne smiled and laughed quietly. “I knew
you’d come around to it. Good for you, Drew.”

I glared at her as she walked toward the
truck. “Don’t you ever think about anything else besides yourself?”
I shouted after her.

She turned back to me. Her smile vanished
from her face. “No one ever thought about me.” And with that, she
turned and got into the car.

Chapter Seventeen

I didn’t tell
Michael and Jessica about the fight. I felt there was no need. I
didn’t want to get them worried or upset.

“I’m so sick of this hotel food,” Jessica
announced the next morning, looking over the room service menu.
“They have like, five meals on their menu. And only two of them
don’t contain something weird.”

I laughed. It was a pretty small hotel and
didn’t have a lot to choose from. I hadn’t had any inconvenience,
but I hadn’t been eating at all.

“I agree,” Michael said. “This food is
getting on my nerves. All I want is a bag of chips. That sounds
really good right now.”

“Oooh,” Jessica replied. “Yeah, and some
gummy worms.” Her eyes widened in excitement.

Michael laughed. “There’s a gas station a
block away from here. We could go get some stuff.”

“Yes!” Jessica cried, jumping up from the
bed. “Let me take a shower and we’ll go.” She ran toward the
bathroom.

I heard Michael sigh. “Aw, come on, Jess,” he
grumbled. “I’m starving. Can’t you take a shower afterward?”

“No!” Jessica answered, looking appalled. “I
look terrible.”

I glanced at her. She looked fine. Her hair
was straight and non-oily looking, and despite her complaints of
not having makeup, her skin still looked nice.

“You’ll be fine,” Michael assured her, but
Jessica shook her head. “Can we go without you and get you
something?”

Jessica made a pouty face.

Michael heaved an exasperated sigh. “Jess,”
he moaned.

“Okay, okay, go,” she replied, shutting the
bathroom door.

Michael smiled and grabbed his sweater. “You
coming?”

“Yep.” I said.

He grabbed my hand and we left the room.

Once outside on the bustling street, we
started looking around and trying to find our way to the gas
station. The streets were filled with honking cars, backed up in
each lane. The sidewalks were filled with people, pushing and
shoving, and I wondered why everything was so busy.

“There it is.” Michael pointed above the
heads of the crowd to a large gas station sign. We made our way
through the throng of people, crossed the street, and ducked
inside.

The gas station interior was noticeably less
crowded and crazy than on the streets. We wandered the aisles in
search of chips and gummy worms. Michael appeared around the corner
after a moment with a bag of Doritos.

“What would she prefer?” I asked him,
studying the candy rack. “Worms or bears?”

“Worms,” he replied seriously.

I frowned. “But the bears are so much
cuter.”

Michael laughed.

“Seriously.” I laughed too. “The worms just
look gross.”

“She’d want the worms. Trust me,” he said
between laughs. “The fact that the bears are cute is the reason she
likes the worms. She feels guilty eating them.”

I laughed at the absurdity.

“She’s a nutcase, I know,” Michael replied,
grinning.

I giggled. “Fine,” I replied, snatching the
bag of gummy worms.

We walked up to the counter. Michael grabbed
his wallet from his pocket and paid the cashier. The woman eyed us
suspiciously as though she didn’t trust us. Her frown deepened when
she noticed Michael was holding my hand. As we left the counter I
heard her mutter something about teenagers.

After a few minutes, I walked out of the gas
station, one hand in Michael’s and the other holding a plastic bag.
We battled our way back through the crowd and finally reached the
hotel. But when we knocked on the door to our room, no one
answered. Michael pounded on it again. “Jess?” he called. “You in
there?”

I poked him. “Didn’t you bring the card
key?”

He frowned in thought and started rummaging
through his pockets. He finally pulled out one of the card keys and
swiped it through. The door unlocked and I pushed it open.

We walked inside, and I set the bag on the
couch. “Jessica?” I called, knocking on the bathroom door. “You
still in there?”

There was no reply.

I stood absolutely still for a moment,
listening. I heard nothing. No shower, no water, no movement.
“Jessica?” I started to open the door. My heart beat faster once I
saw that no one was inside. I stepped around to look behind the
door, in the tub and under the sink.

“Michael!” I called, running out into the
main room. “Where’s Jessica?”

He looked just as upset, having gone through
the closet and balcony. “She’s not here.”

I tried to calm my breathing, a realization
coming to mind. “Maybe she just went downstairs to get some food,”
I suggested, trying to convince myself more than him.

Michael shook his head. “She wouldn’t have
until we were back. She would know we’d be worried.” I could sense
the fear tightly woven in his voice.

I could feel my heart pumping and a terrible
feeling gnawing away at my stomach. My heart pounded with fear as I
looked around the room. “Michael? What if...they came and got
her?”

“We were gone for fifteen minutes, tops,” he
muttered. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked away. All
of a sudden he kicked the table leg in frustration. “Why can’t they
just leave us alone? She didn’t do anything! None of us did.”

I frowned and looked away as I slumped
against the wall then put my head in my hands. My heart ached and I
felt like I might cry from frustration and sorrow. Why had they
gotten caught up in all this? It was my fault. It was my entire
fault.

“Michael, I am so sorry,” I murmured, my head
still in my hands.

“No,” he said firmly, taking me by surprise.
He turned toward me and I looked up. “You have nothing to be sorry
about. You’re more of a victim than any of us. What they did to you
was sick,” he nearly spat. Anger burned in his eyes as he glared at
the carpet.

I walked toward him. “But it was me who
brought you and Jessica into this.”

“No, Drew!” He reached out and grabbed my
wrist. “Stop apologizing. None of this is your fault. They would
have gotten to us with or without you. Everyone is in danger, and
none of this is because of you.”

I just stared back at him, biting my lip,
unsure whether or not to agree with him.

A knock on the door made us both jump.
Michael let go of my wrist and went to see who was there. I heard
an unknown voice, whom I guessed to be the maid, and I listened as
Michael politely got rid of her.

“Do you think it was the creators who got
her? Or do you really think she’s just out somewhere and could be
fine?” I asked hopefully, even though I knew deep down what the
truth was.

“I wish I could believe that Jessica was
okay.” He shook his head. “But she must be with the creators.”

A lump formed in my throat and I was unable
to reply.

“We have to do something,” Michael said.

I nodded, feeling fear slowly seep into my
chest.

Michael started pacing back and forth. “But
we don’t have a car and the Institution is too far away to walk.”
He slumped down on the couch and put his head in his hands.

It was barely ten minutes later when there
was another knock on the door. I cautiously opened it and realized
it was Yvonne.

“Oh good,” she said, seeing both of us.
“You’re here.” She walked inside.

“Jessica’s...” I started to say.

Yvonne held up her hand. “Yes, I know, I saw
them bring her in. I hurried back here to make sure you guys were
okay. Come on, we need to leave.” She beckoned for us to get our
things and follow her. We didn’t have much and soon we were on our
way out. Yvonne paid the hotel bill and then we all piled into her
car. I wondered how she could afford the hotels, but when I asked
her she replied that the creators graciously supplied her money for
any whims she might have. I thought for a moment how ironic it was
that our hideaway from the creators was being funded by none other
than them.

“Is Jessica okay?” Michael asked as we were
driving.

Yvonne hesitated, making my stomach flip.
“She’s fine. For now.”

I swallowed. For now. How long would it take
until Jessica was perfected? How much time did we have to get her
back?

“Well, we have to go get her,” Michael urged,
his voice nearly shaking. He was gripping the back of Yvonne’s seat
while he talked to her.

“I...” Yvonne trailed off. “I don’t know if I
can,” she finally replied.

“You don’t know if you can?” I cried, turning
to face her incredulously.

“We have to get her out of there. She’s my
sister!” Michael snapped, although I could sense the desperation in
his voice.

Yvonne glared at him. “I can’t risk my
position.”

“I don’t care about your position. My
sister’s life is much more important than your stupid position.”
Michael was shouting now.

All of a sudden, Yvonne hit the brakes,
bringing the car to a screeching halt. Michael and I were flung
forward before the seatbelts slammed us to a stop. The wheels
screamed in protest as they slid across the pavement.