The Girl Who Dared to Think Bella Forrest (best classic literature txt) 📖

halls were still fairly empty, and I quickly stepped out, put my hand on Grey’s arm, and began pushing him forward.

“What are you doing?” he sputtered, his eyes widening, and I leaned close to him.

“I think I can get us inside the Medica under the premise that you’re my prisoner and I’m having you checked out before I take you to the Citadel for questioning. It’ll at least get us inside.”

I looked at my wrist, the nine glowing brightly. I had taken the plunge to avoid the scanners, but if he or I walked through one, it would pick up on our identities and we’d be toast. Luckily, the scanners were only used when entering or leaving a department, or, in the case of the Medica, when I was checking in. If he got scanned, no doubt he’d be flagged immediately, what with Gerome’s murder having taken place only nine days ago. If I was scanned, well... there wasn’t really much difference in what would happen to either of us in that case.

And I still wasn’t sure how I was going to avoid it yet. Although I did have the smallest kernel of an idea.

“Oh.” He continued moving forward, his face thoughtful. “You might be good at this improvisational stuff.”

“Shut up, prisoner,” I said loudly as I saw a woman step into the corridor, a large hammer balanced on her shoulder. She waited for us to pass, her eyes curious, but I merely turned my indicator out, nodded politely, and kept my eyes straight ahead.

Once she was outside of hearing distance, I leaned close. “Good job. You okay with this?”

“It’s not exactly an unfamiliar role,” he replied dryly, giving me a pointed look, and I flushed, the nature of our meeting flashing through my mind.

“Hey, I’m sorry if I was a little overzealous with you,” I said. “I just thought if I could finally catch a one, maybe Scipio would, you know... show a dissident like me a little bit of mercy.”

He chuckled as he ducked under a bit of piping that jutted out of the wall. “I’ve been guilty of the same thing in the past. But you know what? I’ve had some of the best times just turning my back on the system. If I died tomorrow, at least I led a life that it felt like I was living, you know?”

“Even if you’re on the run and are hunted for being different?”

“Especially then,” he said softly, his voice ringing with conviction. “Which is why it’s important to do it. You can’t make things change by sitting around and doing what everyone else does. If I die doing it, at least I’ll die doing something I believe in.”

His words made me look at him, and suddenly it was if I was seeing him all over again, a little piece of the puzzle falling into place to bring the picture into focus. He was, in his heart, an optimist, and he didn’t try to hide it. And I admired him for it. I was too sarcastic to be an optimist, but anywhere I could find a bit of hope, it was beautiful to me.

We fell into silence as we walked, but there was so much more that I suddenly wanted to say to him. Too much more, and I wasn’t even sure where to begin. From the kissing stunt he’d pulled, twice, to the way he had given me his pills and sacrificed his own safety. And then there was that third kiss and the conversation he had started almost two weeks ago, when we had first arrived in Sanctum.

He’d treated me so well, been so good to me, that it was hard not to feel my attraction for him grow, no matter how many ways I tried to tell myself it was a bad idea. We literally had to rely on each other to survive, and that could get complicated quickly, especially in such a small group of people.

And yet, my mind would inexorably lead me back to the brief images I had of him caring for me when I was sick. The way he offered me a piece of his apple, even though we weren’t exactly friends. His sense of humor and loyalty.

Scipio help me, I really liked him.

And this was so not the time for that particular revelation, so I pushed it aside to focus on the task at hand.

“Name and designation?” the clerk asked, looking up at me with wide, cheerful eyes.

“Holly Castell, 25K-437. Please don’t scan me—this one,” I jerked his arm slightly, like I was annoyed, “seems to have damaged a portion of my net. I about peed myself when I tried to get on the elevator, the shock was that bad. I need to be checked out before I take him to the Citadel.” Using my mother’s name came on impulse, and I was relieved that some part of me had an idea of what to do. The lie about the scan was based on a kernel of truth; it had happened to my father once. Somehow, though, I didn’t think he’d admitted that part to the Medics when he had gone in, and I derived some small, perverse pleasure in the way the clerk’s cheeks flushed at that part, her eyes flicking to my indicator and back again. It put her off her game, which was good for us. Feeling flustered might cause her to overlook a detail or two here or there. Besides, if she pulled up a picture of my mother... well, with the exception of the eyes, we looked almost exactly the same. I doubted she would notice that now.

And since I was the one undergoing treatment, Grey wouldn’t be scanned, but would be allowed in with me, as prisoners weren’t allowed out of sight of a Knight. I’d never dreamed I’d be so thankful for protocol.

“I’m really a nice guy once you get to know me,” Grey said, a smile forming on his face as he looked