Folsom (End of Men, #1)(66)

I don’t know whether to be more surprised by her revelation or the fact that she just called him my Folsom.

“So, do people know?” Laticus, who’s been silent until now, is leaning forward in his chair.

“Not many,” Pippa says more solemnly this time. “But there are more of us. We hide in plain sight.”

He shakes his head. “But why? The End Men, they need you—”

“Boy, and that’s what you are, make no mistakes, the End Men are the Society’s prisoners. We don’t need no End Men. Some of us want to live our lives in peaces. Besides, we’re attracted to mens and mens are in short supply. No offenses,” she says, looking at me.

“None taken.”

Pippa pulls her skirt over her knees and pats her hair down.

“So…why are we here exactly?” I ask.

She looks at me in surprise, one of her painted eyebrows lifting in time with her lips. “You called your friend Kaspers for helps, didn’t you?”

I look at her doubtfully. “You know Kasper?”

“Know him…oh we know him. Shits was already stirring, Gwen. Before you started mouthing offs like the emotional train wrecks you are.”

I frown at her, but she doesn’t notice.

“You gave feets to what was already started. But you’re in deep shits and now we have to hides you until we can get you out.”

“Out where?” I ask.

“Of the Regions.”

“Laticus too?”

“And Folsom.” She nods.

My heart leaps. “Do you know where—”

“Not yet.”

My face drops and she reaches over to pat my knee. “You get some rests. We have to get back to it.”

With that, she leaves the room in the same way she arrived. With grandeur.

“Where do you think we are?” Laticus asks.

“I don’t know. Lower end somewhere?” We stare at the cakes, unsure of what to do.

Laticus doesn’t respond. We wait long enough to get antsy. He looks at the ceiling.

“I’m so sick of being bored all the time.” He stands up and paces around the tight room.

The woman with the gun comes in a few minutes later. She looks less hostile now that I know she’s not one of the governor’s people.

“I’ll take you to your room,” she says.

Our room is an eight by ten storage closet with bunk beds underneath Pippa’s restaurant. To get there, we go down a dark elevator shaft and then we’re hit with bright fluorescent lighting. If I think about it too much, I’ll go crazy. Once inside the room though, it’s similar to the SIMS. In fact, for a moment I wonder if I’m in one. The woman notices me taking it all in.

“Have you done a SIM before? I can show you how to sign in if you’d like…”

I must go all dreamy-eyed by the way the woman does a double take and grins.

“Have at it,” she says and leaves.

All I can think about is Folsom’s SIM. I don’t care about my own, I just want to watch his five or six dozen times. When Laticus goes to take a shower across the hall, I lie down on the bottom bunk and sign in with Folsom’s password: Foley97. One day I hope to ask about his connection with the number ninety-seven.

When I see the purple silk it’s like a conditioned response…I’m immediately in the moment with the simulation, remembering the way he made me feel the last time I watched too. I stare at us and wish he could feel how desperate I am for him. My heart quickens at the sight of him, the rush almost like he’s really here, when the bed we’re on fades away. Suddenly, it’s just Folsom and he’s looking right at me. At least it seems that way.

“Hey. You’re here. Or maybe you’re not and I’m talking to myself. I just needed to get some things off my chest.”

I look around the room, confused for a moment.

“I was hoping that whatever happened, you’d come back in here.” He smirks and rubs an eyebrow. “I hoped you would be back,” he adds. “I had to add this in case I never get a chance to tell you…I never wanted this life, Gwen. I’m sure you know that by now. I’ve done what was expected of me. I’ve served the people and my country. I’ve managed okay because I’ve been on autopilot, barely even noticing my surroundings. And then I walked into your house that day and you noticed me. Not the fact that I was a man, or had a dick, or that I could give you a baby. You saw me…and my boots.” He smiles distantly like he’s remembering, and I smile too, covering my mouth with my hand. “Autopilot was comfortable and you’ve made me uncomfortable. I’d been living without feeling anything and now I feel everything. Even if nothing externally changes in my life, the way you make me feel…I’m changed. Because I got the chance to know you. I can’t ever forget you. And I’ll always wish things could be different for us.” His voice breaks, but he quickly regains it. “I’m in love with you. It’s the only piece of me the Society doesn’t own.” The view changes abruptly; it’s the two of us standing on top of a large mountain, overlooking a valley of jagged rocks and trees and a river at the bottom. It’s beautiful and I stare at it for a long time before looking at the two of us: him so tall and imposing and me barely eye level with his shoulder, yet we look like we fit. The picture stays there for so long that I imagine Folsom did the same thing, watched longingly for a life that will never be.