Body of Stars Laura Walter (chrome ebook reader .txt) 📖

basement, brown carpeting underfoot, voices drifting up from below. On our descent into the basement, Cassandra held my hand and squeezed, her palm damp and hot as a fever.

When we reached the bottom of the stairs, we stood in a cheaply finished room. The walls were covered in paneling that made hollow sounds when I tapped it with my fingernails. About twenty students were gathered in the basement, both girls and boys ranging from first-years to fourth-years. Most were my classmates, but even so, they looked newly unfamiliar in this environment. Many of them turned to stare when Cassandra and I made our appearance. My government changeling inspection was still days away, but entering that basement and having all those eyes on me at once was an exposure as intense as standing naked before a government employee.

I scanned the room. In the far corner, I caught a glimpse of the person more known and yet unknown to me than any other: Miles, my brother, my false twin. He wore the same collared shirt he’d put on for Cassandra’s coming-out party, but this time it was untucked, making him appear careless. He was staring straight at me, his jaw set. I could tell what he was thinking, how furious he was that I’d risk coming to this party, but I only gazed back at him wordlessly. Sometimes when I looked at my brother his image seemed to waver, my imagination conjuring blank space instead. Like my subconscious was preparing for the future without him.

I turned to see Rebecca Delbanco at the top of the staircase, the triangle shape of her tea-length dress flaring out to fill the narrow space. She was leading three girls down to join the rest of us: Janine Cotto, who was in my year and had recently changed, and two third-year changelings. Janine stumbled to a stop once she reached me. Her eyes pooled dark, and wet enough to make her blink. She might not have mastered the high lucidity yet. I reached for her hand and pulled her closer.

At the refreshments table, Rebecca loaded a tray with rose sherry poured into the traditional tulip-shaped glasses. She brought the drinks our way and handed the first one to Cassandra.

“Don’t,” I whispered, but Cassandra jerked her shoulder, like she was brushing me off. She accepted the glass. Janine took one, too, as did the other changelings. When Rebecca offered me a flute of the pale pink liquid, I made no move to accept it. She waited. She did not lower her arm.

“It’s just rose sherry,” Janine said.

Cassandra lifted her glass. “You drank it at my party.”

“That’s right.” Rebecca smiled, relieved. “This is like any other party.” She pushed the glass under my nose.

I took a step back. “I think I’ll pass.”

“Take it,” Rebecca said evenly. “You don’t have to drink it, but at least hold it. You’ll draw less attention to yourself this way.”

I relented and accepted the rose sherry. Rebecca let out a breath, like she’d just accomplished a major goal.

“There now,” she said. “We can get started.”

I adjusted my flimsy scarf while Rebecca told us why we were there, in a basement with boys during the most dangerous time of our lives.

“Diffusing the tension can help,” she explained. “That’s why coming-out parties came into fashion. Those parties might have been enough a few decades ago, but now things are a little different. Now we need to do something on our own.”

“Like a ritual,” Janine said.

“Exactly.”

I set my rose sherry down on a ledge near the basement window. I was trembling.

“Relax,” Cassandra said quietly. “You don’t want to be like Marie.”

I picked up the glass again. When I glanced to Miles, he looked away, as if he were too ashamed to meet my eyes. I watched him, fixating on the line at the back of his neck just above his collar, where hair met skin. He struck me as defenseless.

Rebecca was still speaking, but I’d stopped listening. I felt far removed from the others, even the other changelings. They might be new like me, and they might feel just as raw and wild and vulnerable, but they didn’t have predictions mapping out their brothers’ deaths. I was alone.

“All right,” Rebecca said at last. “We’re ready.”

She shook the last drop from the rose sherry bottle before setting it on its side in the middle of the floor.

“It looks like Spin the Bottle,” I said, dismayed.

“Not exactly,” Cassandra said.

“Good.” I was relieved. “No kissing?”

She didn’t answer. The boys edged closer to the bottle, and one reached down to give it a spin.

The girls around us erupted into laughter. I glanced up to see the boy who’d spun—a handsome, older boy with dark skin—standing over the bottle like he owned it. I felt sick as I realized what was happening.

He was staring right at Cassandra and me.

Mapping the Future: An Interpretive Guide to Women and Girls

Sex and the Changeling

A changeling girl may be at her most alluring, but she is also vulnerable. Her body is raw with possibilities for the future, her emotions are erratic, and she is charged with a new sex appeal when she is still too young to bear the sexual burden older girls and women can withstand. For these reasons, the changeling should refrain from intercourse.

To bear the future is to bear the sacred, and as such, changeling girls are tasked with guarding their own bodies from sexual or physical threat. Those who behave appropriately should expect little to no difficulty in avoiding sexual contact during this time. Caution, prudence, and restraint are three of the most important qualities these girls can possess.

Above all, we implore changelings to recognize that the burden of maintaining purity rests on their own shoulders—it is the first grave responsibility they must face in their adult lives, and a modest price indeed for the privilege of holding the future in their skin.

11

For a moment I could only focus on that bottle, how its open mouth was still