Internment(35)

“I thought I made you forget all your past loves.” My dad kisses my mom on the cheek.

“Of course, jaan. I only have eyes for you now. And young Luke.”

We laugh.

First love is one you never forget.

I have to talk to David again. I know I said I wouldn’t take any more risks, and I hate lying to my parents. But lies are a part of life in Mobius. It’s how we survive.





My parents head off to their “jobs.” I clean up the dishes and wipe up the tea I spilled on my floor. Normally I’d go find Ayesha right now, and we’d hang by the rock garden. Soheil has been showing up a lot, too. And last night when we were in line for dinner at the Mess, Soheil whispered something to Ayesha. Later she asked if we could skip our normal meet-up. I guess she’s getting bolder now; she’s dropping me as her chaperone. I’m happy for her. We all need distractions in this place.

My mom’s words still ring in my ears: First love is one you never forget. David said he’d get here, and I believe him. But I have to talk to him again because it’s not like he can randomly show up at the front gate. I pull on the hem of the vintage X-Files tee I liberated from my mom’s closet years ago. I rub my sweaty palms against my well-worn jeans. There’s only one way to get a phone.

I step outside. After talking to my parents, I know that the drones and the guards aren’t the only eyes that are on me. I look around. Now that a lot of the adults have “jobs,” most of them are occupied during the day. There’s a kind of day care where the grandparents take care of little kids. The block is pretty quiet.

The guards patrol in shifts. Corporal Reynolds is on our block duty today. Carpe diem.

I don’t run, or try to walk in a hurry. I don’t do anything that might seem unusual. I casually stroll toward the guards like I’m going to pass them. There are no drones above. Now is as good a time as any to take a stupid chance. I trip. “Ow!” I yell out, louder than necessary. The guards turn to look at me. Corporal Reynolds says something to the other guard on duty with him and then walks to me. I’m on the ground, rubbing my ankle.

“Are you okay?” he asks, kneeling next to me.

“Yes. I wanted to get your attention but wasn’t sure how.”

He shakes his head. “You have to stop doing dumb, risky stuff like this.”

I don’t have time to take offense. “I need to talk to David. Can you get me a phone again, maybe?”

“Jesus.” Corporal Reynolds rubs his forehead. He sighs. “Get up. And pretend it hurts to walk.”

I slowly push myself up. He takes my elbow and escorts me back to my Mercury Home. I do my best to feign a limp. And I think I’m pretty good at it because I’ve totally sprained my ankle before while playing tennis, so I know how it feels. Not that I’m winning any Oscars, but good enough. When we get to my door, he whispers, “Go inside. Stay there. For once, please listen. I’ll be back.” I nod and walk in.

I wait inside, like I was told. Minutes pass. I pace the room a little, remembering to limp for the camera. Then I sit down at the table, lifting my leg to let it rest on the chair next to me. I try to forget that any minute I could be talking to David. So I let my mind drift elsewhere. I wonder what Ayesha and Soheil are doing right now. Actually, no, I don’t wonder. I hope she’s maybe sneaking her first kiss. I hope she’s smiling. Soheil is a good guy, I think; I pray my instinct about him isn’t wrong.

The knock at the door makes me jump, even though I was expecting it. My startle reflex is a lot more sensitive these days.

I fake-hobble to the door and open it slowly, ever conscious of the camera in here.

Corporal Reynolds looks at me and allows a small smile to crack his normally serious veneer. He hands me multiple ice packs. “For your ankle,” he says. “You should probably lie down with your leg propped on a pillow. That’s what the nurse told me.”

I take the ice packs, thank him, and shut the door. I want to run into my room, but I don’t. I take my time, reminding myself to limp. Once I’m safely in my room, door shut, I pull the top ice pack off the bottom one. A black flip phone is in a small plastic bag, along with a note:


IN THIRTY MINUTES, THERE WILL BE A SHIFT CHANGE. THE GUARD I’M WITH WILL TALK TO THE NEW GUYS. BRING THE PHONE BACK TO ME, BETWEEN THE ICE PACKS. SAY THANK YOU. WALK AWAY. DON’T BE LATE. RUN WATER ON THIS NOTE UNTIL THE INK RUNS. THEN RIP IT UP, PULP IT, AND FLUSH IT.

I dial David’s number. Let the phone ring once, hang up, then dial again, like he told me. It rings three times before he picks up.

“Layla?” He whispers. “Sorry, I had to grab the bathroom pass to walk out of class.”

Hearing his voice makes me feel like a boulder has been lifted from my chest, letting me breathe again. “David.” I start crying softly but wipe away my tears. I quickly clear my throat. “David, can you get here? I need you to help me figure some way to get out of here.”

“I’ll be there tomorrow. It’s not a far drive.”

“What will you say to your parents?”

“Fuck them. I asked my dad if he could use his State Department contacts to help get your family out, and he said that’s not how it works. That they’ll only let people out who are useful to them. I hate him for going along with all of this. And my mom… I don’t know how she can stay silent about what’s happening. I know they’re scared, but it’s like they’ve forgotten everything they taught me.”