The Last Mate on Earth

Part 1 - Chapter 24

* * * Hope’s POV * * *

“You seem distracted,” Hayden observes, while we put on our shoes at the end of another dance class. I needed that physical activity. I’ve been transported from my worries and freed as my body bent, twirled and kicked, spinning unwanted thoughts from my head at great speed.

Now we’ve stopped, it’s time to interact as the anguish elbows its way back in. I’ve avoided talking to Hayden the whole session, but he is never shrugged off without a struggle. He’s persistent, but in an endearing way.

“Do I?” I frowned at the floor, letting him know I was not in the mood to interact today.

“Anything on your mind?” He asks, pushing me further. I understand that he’s meant to seem caring and concerned, but instead, I can tell this has been scripted by the facility.

‘“Of course there’s plenty on my mind,” I snapped .

“Care to share?”

“No.”

“I bet you would if we were out looking at the ocean .”

“What do you mean?” I asked, looking up at his pinched face.

“Nothing. Nothing,” he says, a little startled at my attitude towards him.

“Right.” I felt my back prickle in self-defence.

“It’s just you seem to open up more there. It brings you an inner peace where you’re able to process your thoughts.” He’s really trying now and I can tell he’s starting to venture off script.

“It must be the view,” I retorted, leaving the room and slamming the door behind me. I shower off the day and throw on a loose-fitting, black floor-length summer dress. I leave my hair to dry naturally, letting it hang over my shoulders, then head barefooted to my favourite spot.

I ache to see him. It irks me that the special connection with Hayden has been noted, but something within me doesn’t care. I just don’t want it to be scripted. We’re currently counting down to a life-altering change that is beyond my control and will imprison me more inescapably than ever. This is it. The last bit of time for me. The end of my so-called youth.

“What took you so long?” I asked, a few minutes later. I feel as if I’ve been sitting on my own for hours, even though I know it could only have been a few minutes. As I asked the question, I suddenly felt a pang of fear that it was not him.

It is, and my smile grows in a way it never has before, surprising me. That cements what I already know.

“Nothing.” He shrugs, giving a subtle frown. “What are you wearing?”

He looks down and his jaw drops at the sight of his lace-trimmed leggings. They are awful.

“Erm … a … casual number, I’m going for a new look.” He laughs, breezily arching his back against the metal pole frame of the turret and stretching out his arms in a dramatic pose.

“It suits you.”

“You think? Do you reckon parent Kimberley will mind if I borrow some more?” He asks, a cheeky glint in his eye that causes another smile to form on my lips.

“I know you put them on by mistake, but I really do love them. I’ll have to see if they do something similar in my size,” I said, through muffled giggles.

“You’re such a fashion icon to me, no. Parent Rita would be so pleased that I’m finally following your lead.”

“I’m sure she would.”

I enjoy the easy laughter that descends upon us. “So how was it?” He asks, draping his arms over a railing and looking out at the ocean. “As horrendous as I imagined?”

“It was fine,” I lied. “It’s a bit crazy to think a small part of me is going to be meeting the prospect in some science lab downstairs soon.”

“And that something so tiny has the potential to have such a huge impact on the world,” he says, not looking at me.

“That too,” I say, but the thought of what will take place the next couple of times I’m in that room is making me feel uneasy. It’s what I’ve chosen, but that doesn’t mean I want it to happen. It was simply the lesser of two evils.

“Did … did it hurt?” He asks quietly, catching my eye before bashfully looking at the clouds below. His question surprised me, mostly because of the genuine anguish on his face, as though any pain I might have felt would affect him too somehow.

I shook my head, giving a non-committal smile that I knew he'd see through.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, trying to gather the sheer material of her leggings behind his knees so that he can pull them up and be more comfortable. There’s so little extra fabric that it’s not an easy manoeuvre. If it weren’t for the current topic of conversation, I’d find his struggles hilarious.

“Go get changed, Hayden,” I told him.

“My discomfort is nothing. I’m here for you.” He told me.

‘“It’s not your fault, you know.” I said, tearing my eyes away from him to look ahead. ‘“This is the world we live in. The life I was born into. I should be used to it.”

“Yeah…” he says. He opens his mouth to say more but stops. He blows out a lungful of air.

“And I was used to it,” I said thoughtfully, letting my mind wander. “There was a proper plan before and I knew what lay ahead of me. I didn’t expect this series of events.”

“No one could’ve predicted it.”

“I guess not.” We sat in silence for a few moments. A comfortable one, but it’s a rarity for us nonetheless.

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like to live in a different time?”

“Like when?” He asks, moving his weight backwards so that he’s resting on his elbows and looking at the sky above. I copy him.

“I don’t know.” I sigh. “The nineteen-sixties when they danced all the time?” I suggest the first era that pops into my head. I think it was a happier time in our history.

“I bet they didn’t really.”

“Are you saying my history lessons are founded on lies?”

“N … n … no,” he stammers. I laugh.

“Or maybe the seventeenth century, where I could’ve been a grand thespian on the stage, spouting Shakespeare in a dramatic voice,” I say, swinging my arms around.

“Young boys played girl roles back then. You’d have had no chance.” He giggled with me. I can’t help but turn my head so that I can take in his perfectly sloped nose and pink heart-shaped lips – a boy playing a girl. Fancy that.

“What is it that makes you wonder about those times?” He coughs, his laughter dying. Sitting up, he scratches his leg, as though it’s not the conversation that made him move.

“I just bet it was simpler.” My eye was drawn to a little black dot far away in the clouds above. I watch it flicker and hover.

“They all had their troubles,” he says, turning to me and gesturing for me to sit up.

“And I’m just not told of them?” I ask, seeing the raised scar on my wrist as I push myself into a sitting position.

“You know more than me,” he states, which is probably true as he doesn't pay attention in history.

I’ve no idea what he actually knows about our history or if what I know is even true. We joke, but they could’ve rewritten the whole lot to brainwash me into their way of thinking. There may be huge chunks of our past that I know nothing about because they’ve decided they aren’t right for me, and I wouldn’t have a clue.

My mum trusted parent Rita and the team around her at the facility. She’d suffered loss after loss and suddenly a powerful figure was taking care of her, saying they’d do everything in their power to bring her daughter safely into the world. Of course, she trusted them.

Of course, she listened to their advice and did all they asked of her. She trusted their knowledge. She must’ve felt she had no other choice. I’ve lived under their knowledge for sixteen years and, although I might not have my mum’s experience of life out there, the manipulation in here has fogged my vision for long enough. It’s time things changed. It’s time to break down that wall and see through the cracks.

“I wonder what it was like back then to fall freely and unequivocally in love,” I say, my voice shaking. I know where I want this to lead. “To follow your heart’s desire, to do exactly as it directs and not hold back.”

“Every generation had rules, Hope,” he comments, adding flippantly, “except the nineteen-sixties – when they seemed to do whatever the hell they liked.”

“So I’ve heard,” I say, although I can’t recall anything particularly interesting about that decade. “I wonder what it was like for my mother and father. To find love.”

“Love?” He asks, his voice soft as the energy around us shifts, becoming charged once more.

“Yeah… To find each other in a sea of thousands,” I added, forcing myself to continue – because I wanted to. I want to say these things to him. “Don’t you ever feel grief over that? A loss for what should have been? We should’ve had that right. Love can’t be contained. But they’ve contained us.”

“I …” He flounders. I'd caught him off guard. Him. My every thought is him. I’ve become more aware of it in every conversation we’ve shared, in every thought I have of us when we’re not together. I barely see anyone else any more: not the prospects, not the security team and not the other students. I just see those dark brown eyes. I see Hayden.

“Do you want to know the one thing I’m sad about?” I asked, my insides flipping.

“What?” he croaks.

“That I’ll never find out what it’s like to be kissed. Properly kissed. By someone I love.”

That sentence takes my breath away.

Now I’ve said it, I have to wait for him to grasp what I’m yearning for him to do. I keep my eyes low and almost closed, as I turned my face in his direction. My lips prickle at the thought of what’s to come and how desperately I want it to happen.

A huge part of me is scared he’ll just disappear, get called back into the facility before we get the chance.

But it can’t be rushed. Ever so slowly, I’m aware of his face moving towards mine. The world stops turning. I hold my breath as I lean over, my face edging closer to my best friend.

My Hayden, dressed in a ridiculous pair of lace-trimmed leggings, yet looking as handsome as ever.

My lips become fuller. I close my eyes and see only him in my mind. In a world where we can be together.

“Kiss me,” I whisper.

Then I feel him.