I went to my room and wondered what would happen if I barricaded myself inside. I even glanced at the tall bookcase next to the door as if the idea were actually a valid one. If I never came out, they wouldn’t be able to deliver whatever news had etched worry onto their faces. I paced for a few minutes, reviewing my options, talked myself out of Searching, then walked back out. My mom pointed to the lair (so dubbed because it was smaller than a love seat but bigger than a chair). It sat against the wall between the couches, and I lowered myself into it.
I wedged my hands beneath my thighs to keep myself from biting my nails. “Is someone going to tell me what’s going on?” I looked straight at my dad, hoping he would tell me. Whatever the news, my dad was better at a gentle delivery. He actually acknowledged the existence of feelings. Unlike my mom, who seemed to think people were like one of the programs she developed: easy to reconfigure when they didn’t react as expected.
His face gave away nothing at first, then softened to what looked like pity. That wasn’t a good sign.
But my mother spoke. “Addie, after trying for several years now to work out our differences, your father and I have decided to go our separate ways.”
It felt like a hundred footballs whacked me in the forehead. The throbbing returned, and I rubbed at the welt. I tried to process what she had said, but the only answer made no sense. My parents got along just fine. Why would either one of them leave? “You don’t mean you’re getting a divorce?”
“Yes, sweetie.” Apparently the straightforward approach didn’t trigger the right response, so she changed to the look-how-sympathetic-I-can-sound voice. “It has nothing to do with you. It’s about issues we can’t work through. This was the last thing we wanted—to split up our family. But no matter what we tried, it didn’t help.” She tilted her head and squinted her eyes. Was that supposed to be her sorry face? It looked forced. “We thought maybe you would’ve seen this coming. Haven’t you Searched anything lately?” The last sentence was accompanied by a hand on my arm.
I started to look down at her hand, but it was gone in an instant and had moved on to pick a piece of lint off the arm of the couch, before joining her other hand in her lap.
It took me a moment to realize she had asked a question. “No, I haven’t.” My last Search was the week before last and went as far as the homecoming dance, which happened Friday. If I had just looked a few more days ahead, I could’ve seen this coming. “I don’t understand. Why would you get a divorce?” The word tasted bad in my mouth.
“Because we’re like strangers living in the same house. We don’t even care enough about each other to fight anymore.”
I waited for my dad to speak up, to say he didn’t want this, but he nodded his agreement. “Sorry, baby. It’s true.”
“But I care about both of you. You can’t do this.”
“Our choice has already been made,” my mom said. “You’re the only one left to make a choice.”
“I choose for you to stay together.”
My mom had the nerve to laugh. Okay, it wasn’t a laugh as much as it was a small chuckle, but still. “That’s not your choice, Addie. Your choice is: Who do you want to live with?”
CHAPTER 2
Un-just-ville: n. the land ruled by my parents
I sat in stunned silence, convinced the house must’ve initiated security protocol when I came home, and these were the holographic versions of my parents, programmed to fool intruders. That’s how little sense what they said made. But they weren’t holograms. They were right in front of me, waiting for my reaction. Considering none of us had moved for what felt like five minutes, I was surprised we hadn’t been plunged into darkness. I didn’t know what my parents expected from me, but I was waiting for the world to realign on its axis and return my life to normal. Not used to surprises, I decided I didn’t like them very much.
My mom broke the silence with: “I know it’s a hard choice, Addie. And we fully expect you to use your ability to see which future looks more appealing. You don’t have to answer us now.”
“Can’t I be with both of you? Isn’t there like a fifty-fifty deal we can work out?”
“That would be okay, but your father’s decided to leave the Compound. He’s going into the Normal world.”
My stomach went from twisting uncomfortably to dropping straight to my feet. “You’re leaving, Dad?” Not many people left the Compound. No one I knew personally. So this news was almost as shocking as the divorce announcement.
My mom continued, “I don’t think you joining him there would be good for your develo—”
“Marissa, you promised you wouldn’t try to influence her one way or the other.”
“I’m sorry. It’s true. Addie, this decision is yours. Stay here with others like you, or leave the Compound and live in a world surrounded by people who use only ten percent of their brains.”
“Marissa.”
“Sorry,” she said again. This time they both laughed. I was glad they found this situation so amusing, considering my life had just ended. I stood abruptly, and they stopped laughing. My dad’s face crumpled into the pity look again, and I could tell he was about to apologize, but I didn’t want to hear it.
Without a word, I walked by them, straight to my room. I slapped my palm against the panel inside, causing the door to swish shut behind me. Angry music blasted from above, the computer obviously sensing my mood from the palm scan. “Off,” I said, and silence took over. I walked around the bookcase, placed my back against the side, planted my feet firmly on the ground, and pushed. When it didn’t budge, I slid to the floor and lowered my forehead to my knees.