Girl of Glass, #1 Page 9

  “Well, I’ll see you tonight.” Lenora walked out the door without looking back.

  “Have a good day, Mom,” Nola murmured to the empty house. “I kissed two boys yesterday and stole dome medicine to save a vampire’s kid. See you tonight.”

  Nola grabbed her tablet and headed out of the house. Dark clouds loomed over the horizon. A deep green tint shaded the sky. Acid rain would be falling on the city in a few hours, burning anyone who strayed outside. Destroying any hope for unprotected crops.

  “First acid rain of the year,” a voice came from over Nola’s shoulder. Gentry Ridgeway limped toward her. “It’ll make things worse in the city. A few people had managed to grow a bit of food but—” she shrugged.

  The growers would have to start over again.

  “How are you?” Nola asked, looking from the cut on Gentry’s forehead to the brace on her leg.

  “I’ll be fine.” Gentry blew a bit of her short, blond hair away from her eyes. “Busted leg and a cut-up head. Dad just likes to overreact and tell everyone in the domes I got banged up.”

  “He worries about you.”

  “And I worry about Jeremy.” Gentry limped a step closer to Nola. “Look, I try not to get involved in my baby brother’s life. He’s a good kid. He’ll be a great guard. And for some reason, he’s decided he’s head over heels for you.”

  Heat leapt into Nola’s cheeks.

  “I don’t know what happened between you two yesterday, and quite frankly I don’t care,” Gentry pressed on, “but I think we can both agree Jeremy is the nicest guy you’re going to be able to find in this place. Right?”

  “Jeremy’s great,” Nola said.

  “Add that to the fact that he actually likes you, and I see you as one really lucky girl.” Gentry pulled herself up to her full height, seeming to tower over Nola. “So, whatever you said that got him all confused yesterday, fix it. I don’t care what you have to figure out, or how you have to do it. That boy would walk through fire for you.”

  “I didn’t—I never,” Nola pressed her fists to her temples, trying to squeeze all her thoughts together into something that made sense.

  “I know you never tried to get him to go all crazy for you, but it happened,” Gentry said. “And I don’t want to see him hurt. So, make a choice and stick to it. You’re a nice girl, Nola. You should get a nice guy. This isn’t Romeo and Juliet. This is the domes. You pick someone, and you build a life.”

  “I’m seventeen,” Nola said. “Jeremy is wonderful, but I just—”

  “Don’t explain anything to me. If you don’t want Jeremy, that’s your deal. But tell him. And don’t wait forever to do it.”

  Nola nodded, tears stinging the corners of her eyes.

  “Now get to class before Jeremy freaks out and thinks you’re avoiding him.”

  Nola nodded and walked down the stone path.

  Jeremy would be waiting for her in class. Waiting to make her laugh. Wanting to hold her hand. Offering a world of safety and sunlight, far away from the darkness of Nightland.

  Chapter Fourteen

  It had taken nearly three weeks to rearrange the plants in the Amber Dome to make more room for the crops from the Leaf Dome. Classes had been cancelled since all the students were needed to help transfer the fragile plants. If something went wrong and the crops were lost, the food supplies of the domes would disappear with them. All nonessential workers had been assigned to the delicate task.

  The days were a blur of work—digging, sorting, and planting until the light became too dim. The domes had become a frenzy of chaos, perfect for avoiding all the Ridgeways.

  Nola’s mother had begun work on modifying the Leaf Dome two days before, preparing for the shipment of trees and animals that would arrive from the south domes later in the month. The soil content needed to be altered. Different fertilizers, different acidity. Everything the new rainforest would need to grow.

  Sweat beaded on Nola’s forehead as she hauled another bag of soil up the stairs to the dome. The air hung heavy with the scent of perspiration and fertilizer. The temperature had been turned up to mimic a tropical climate. The only one who seemed to be enjoying the heat was Nola’s mother, standing in the middle of the Leaf Dome, new schematics in hand, shouting orders as plant and seed trays were loaded out of the dome.

  “You know,” Jeremy grunted, sending Nola stumbling as he lifted the bag she’d been dragging up the last few stairs, “there are, what, ten thousand people living in the city? Don’t you think we could pay them to haul the dirt? I mean, we could do the planting, but I’m supposed to be going through the training material before I start guard training. Instead, I’m hauling glorified cow poop.”

  “We can’t have outsiders in the domes.” Nola searched for a clean place on her sleeve to wipe her forehead.

  “Not even once?” Jeremy smiled cautiously.

  “No,” Nola said, more forcefully than she had meant to. She took a breath. “It wouldn’t be fair to show them everything we have and then kick them right back out into the city.” She reached up to the little tree charm that hung around her neck. It would be wrong to show Eden the clean air and bright lights of the domes. Her father couldn’t live in the light anyway.

  “I’m sorry.” Jeremy’s brow wrinkled. “It was a joke.”

  Nola arranged her face into a smile. “I know.” She pushed out a laugh, but it sounded tinny in the humid air.

  “Do you want to get some water?” Jeremy asked, holding out his dirt-covered hand, reaching for Nola’s equally filthy one.

  “Sure.” Her stomach fluttered as she took his hand.

  Water stations had been set up along the sides of the dome. Nola’s mother’s eyes flicked to them every few minutes, making sure no one dared slack off during the planting.

  Dew clung to the outside of the water vat, and dirt from the planters' hands had turned to mud on its surface. Jeremy poured two cold glasses and, holding them both, walked away from the others in line for water.

  “Here,” Jeremy said, passing the glass to Nola. His fingers closed around hers. A shiver ran up Nola’s arm.

  She didn’t know if it was from the cold of the glass or Jeremy’s touch. Nola pulled away, taking a drink and turning to watch the planters.

  “Are we okay?” Jeremy asked after a long pause.

  “What?”

  “I kissed you,” Jeremy said.

  Nola’s breath caught in her chest as she remembered Jeremy holding her tight. The warmth of his body flooding into hers.

  “And for the past three weeks you’ve barely spoken to me.”

  “I’m sorry.” Nola shook her head, not knowing what else to say. She couldn’t explain she hadn’t been talking to anyone because all she wanted to do was scream. And she couldn’t stop obsessing over not knowing if the medicine had saved Eden or if the whole thing had been pointless. And she most definitely couldn’t tell Jeremy she was terrified of talking to him because if she said something wrong, Gentry might murder her.

  “It’s all right. I know,” Jeremy whispered, taking Nola’s hand in his.

  “Know what?” A buzz of panic started at the back of Nola’s mind.

  He turned her hand over, running his thumb along the lines on her palm. “It’s Kieran.”

  “Kieran?”

  He knows. He saw Kieran come through the glass. He saw him come into my house.

  “You love him.” Jeremy let go of Nola’s hand.

  “I—what?” The buzzing vanished, leaving Nola blinking at Jeremy.

  “You two were together. He got banished. You still love him,” Jeremy said. His face was set, not with anger, but determination.

  “We were friends,” Nola said.

  “You dated.”

  “Only for a few months.”

  “When they made him leave,” Jeremy said, “it was like you broke.”

  Nola remembered. Crying in her room for days. Barely eating. Not speaking to anyone. Until Jeremy made her, forcing her everyday
to become a little more human again. Making her laugh when she thought it was impossible.

  And they were back there again.

  “He was my best friend,” Nola said, “and they took him away. But he, we, it’s not like we were going to get married.” But was that true? If he had stayed, would they still be together? Would they have been together for years, or for their whole lives?

  A life in the sunlight with Kieran by my side.

  “He was my friend, too,” Jeremy said. “And I don’t expect you to forget him.”

  “He’s not dead,” Nola snapped.

  The workers standing by the cooler glared at her.

  “He’s not dead,” Nola whispered. He was just outside the domes. Through the tree. She gripped the charm at her throat without thought.

  “He’s gone,” Jeremy said. “And he’s never coming back.” He stepped forward, raising a hand to caress Nola’s cheek. “But I’m here. I’m right here, Nola. And I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Jeremy,” Nola whispered.

  His hand smelled like soil and life. Like the domes and everything they protected.

  “I think we could be something wonderful,” Jeremy murmured. “I think we could be happy.”

  Nola looked into his eyes, and the fear that had clung to her heart for weeks faded away. She raised her hand to hold his as it rested on her cheek. “I think so, too.”

  Standing up on her toes, she leaned forward and brushed her lips gently against his. Her heart fluttered, and her stomach danced. But the world stayed upright. There was no rabbit hole for her to tumble through like with Kieran.

  “Magnolia,” an angry voice came from behind her.

  Jeremy looked over Nola’s head and jumped away from her as though burned.

  Nola spun around to see her mother’s rigidly angry face.

  “Magnolia,” Lenora said. “I would have expected you to show a little more respect for work that is so important to the domes. And Jeremy”—she rounded on Jeremy, who suddenly looked smaller than Lenora—“if you expect to join the Outer Guard like your father and your sister, you will have to learn some discipline. Priorities need to be respected. Especially where my daughter is concerned.”

  Lenora grabbed Nola by the arm and dragged her away. Past the water station, where the people now openly gawked at the Kents, through the planting lines, and to an empty section of the dome.

  “Mother,” Nola said as the men carrying the planting trays stopped to stare, “I can walk on my own.”

  “And I can see exactly what you walked into,” Lenora spat.

  “I’m seventeen,” Nola said, yanking her arm away. “I kissed a boy. I shouldn’t have stopped working, I’m sorry. But you like Jeremy.”

  Lenora stopped and glared at her daughter. Nola could read the battle raging in her mother’s mind, warring between what she wanted to say and what she knew would be most effective.

  “Jeremy has his path, and you have yours,” Lenora said, her tone clipped. “You have an obligation to the domes. Above all other things, the domes come first. And we believe the best way to preserve the domes is by preserving the plants and people within them. Nothing more, nothing less. Jeremy Ridgeway does not fit into that plan.”

  Lenora took her daughter’s shoulders and steered her to the far corner of the dome. A line of trays lay next to the glass, filled with spinach plants that were past their prime and tomato vines that had stopped bearing fruit for the season.

  “Harvest the dirt,” Lenora said.

  “Dirt?” Nola examined the last few stunted carrots that had been pulled from the soil.

  “Get the plants out of the dirt,” Lenora said. “Put the plants on the carts for compost. Save the soil in the bins. It’s still fertile. It can be used in the new Amber Dome beds once the roots from these plants are gone. When you’ve done that, you come straight home. You do not speak to anyone. You do not stop anywhere. You are—”

  “Grounded,” Nola finished for her mother.

  “I’m glad you have enough sense left to figure that out.” Lenora turned and stalked away, leaving Nola alone with the aging plants.

  Darkness had fallen before Nola finally limped up the steps up to Bright Dome. Her back throbbed from spending hours stooped over the plants. Choosing each bit of edible food and sorting it from the dead plants to be composted, laying the food neatly on trays to be sent down to be distributed to the residents of the domes.

  The lights blazed in her house as Nola walked up the worn stone path. Nola flicked her eyes up to the stars, giving a silent plea her mother wouldn’t want to talk about Jeremy again.

  She rubbed the dirt from her hands onto her pants before opening the kitchen door. Holding her breath she counted three seconds of silence. Maybe Lenora had fallen asleep, or better yet, was still locked in her office down in the tunnels.

  “Magnolia,” Lenora’s voice came from the corner, “how long can it possibly take to finish a simple task?”

  Nola chewed the inside of her cheek, her fatigue telling her to argue with her mother, her common sense telling her to keep quiet and hope it ended soon. Nola stepped into the bright kitchen and closed the door behind her.

  “I asked you a question,” Lenora said, stepping in front of Nola and blocking her path up the stairs. “Why has it taken you so long to get home?”

  “I came home as soon as I was finished.” Nola took a step forward, watching the dirt fall from her clothes onto the polished kitchen floor.

  “Why on earth did it take you five hours to sort the trays?” Lenora snapped. “It would have taken a ten-year-old two.”

  “Then you should have asked a ten-year-old to do it,” Nola growled, knowing it was a mistake to have spoken as soon as she saw the lines form around her mother’s pursed lips.

  “I asked you,” Lenora said. “Did you stop to see Jeremy?”

  “No.” Nola dug her filthy nails into her palms. “I sorted the edibles from the scraps. Got rid of the compost, prepped the food for distribution, and labeled the soil trays for transfer. And yes, that was a lot of work, and yes, I just finished.”

  Lenora raised an eyebrow. “I never told you to salvage any food. Those plants were past their prime.”

  “There was still good food,” Nola said.

  “And it will do just fine as compost.” Lenora waved a hand. “If I had wanted it for distribution—”

  “You’re just going to throw that food away?” Nola asked.

  “No, we’re going to compost it,” Lenora said.

  “But it could be eaten.” Nola’s mind scrambled to grasp her mother’s meaning.

  “We don’t need it,” Lenora said, walking back to her computer at the table.

  “But the people in the city do,” Nola said. “We could send it to them.”

  “There isn’t enough to feed the whole city. It isn’t even enough for an afternoon at the Charity Center. I appreciate your extra effort, and your coming straight home, but next time I suggest you pay closer attention to instructions.”

  “But the food could go to the city.” Nola followed her mother to the table. “There are hungry people who need to eat.”

  “There isn’t enough to go around.” Lenora didn’t look up from her computer. “Besides, the outsiders can take care of themselves. They aren’t our concern. They’ve invented enough drugs to keep themselves plenty occupied without our getting involved.”

  “Mom, those people out there are dying.” Nola shoved her hands through her hair, feeling the dirt crumble into the dark strands. “Even the little kids, all of them are sick. Those drugs they take are the only way they can survive.”

  “I know that, Magnolia.” Lenora lifted her hands from her computer and folded them in her lap. “The people in the city are suffering. Their lives are filled with hardship, want, and pain, which is why we have a moral obligation to help them however we can. The Charity Center is more than enough—”

  “Feeding them, what, a few times a month? Each age group
only goes to the Charity Center once a month, and we call that helping? That isn’t enough. We have good food here you’re going to get rid of. We have clean water. We have medicine that can help them. It could save their lives!”

  “We don’t have enough for all of them,” Lenora said, her voice growing sharp. “I know it is a difficult truth to accept. But we don’t have enough resources to feed everyone. The greenhouses can only produce enough uncontaminated food to feed the population of the domes.”

  “Then grow more.” Nola paced the kitchen. “Build another greenhouse, get rid of the new tropical plants, increase food production.”

  “We’re trying.” Lenora stood and took her daughter by the shoulders, stopping her mid-step. “What do you think the Green Leaf Conference is about? We are trying to secure the future of the human race. We have to preserve our resources—”

  “But what about preserving those people?” Angry tears formed in Nola’s eyes.

  “We’re doing our best. Everyone here is working to find a way to save what’s left of our planet.”

  “But what if the person who could figure out how to save us all is stuck out there? What if there’s some kid in the city who’s smart enough to figure out how to grow enough food that no one will ever be hungry again?” Tears streamed down Nola’s face.

  “We’ll never know.” Lenora picked up her napkin and wiped her daughter’s face. “I know it’s terrible. I wish we could feed everyone, but we can’t. The domes aren’t about saving this generation. These domes were built to preserve the human race—to protect our DNA and the ability to produce healthy children. So that when we find a way to get rid of the toxins in the air and the water, there will actually be healthy humans left to carry on.”

  “And what about the people out there dying right now?” Nola choked through her tears.

  “If a life boat isn’t big enough to save everyone on a ship, that doesn’t mean you let all the passengers die. You save as many as you can, and you head for shore.” Lenora stared into her daughter’s eyes. “It is the only way.”

  Nola turned away. She couldn’t stand to look at her mother anymore.