Melted Ice Cream
This is Part 17 in a series. The other sixteen should be read first for maximum enjoyment and understanding.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16
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I sit with Zoe at our small square kitchen table. We're eating ice cream, vanilla to be specific. Even the ice cream in this apartment is white. I feel so weird having a kid over to my place with nobody else around, but she says she has some important information she will reveal only when she gets ice cream. Honestly, I bet she would reveal her information anyway, but we might as well enjoy a frozen treat. There are few enough things to enjoy around here.
I put my spoon down. “Don't you have parents? Or school?”
Zoe finishes her latest bite of ice cream. “I'm on break. The kids who got into the YSC have, like, ultra-intense training now, but me? I've got nothing to do.”
Hey, she didn't answer the other part of the question. “Don't your parents care where you are, though?”
She avoids my gaze. “Nope.”
A place like this and her parents don't care where she goes? That doesn't seem right; the Compound is downright treacherous, and I doubt Kline likes having young children running around. I hope Zoe is smart enough not to get caught doing anything wrong. I'm not sure about that, because she really, really can't keep her mouth shut. A pang of guilt strikes me because I asked her to get me information that could put her at risk. She probably would have done what I wanted on her own, but, still...I shouldn't have done that.
I try to use a soothing a voice. “They really don't care?”
Zoe says, “Nope. Mom is too busy sucking up to Overseer Scarypants with her job, and Dad's just a lazy buttface who doesn't even have a job. I'm surprised Scarypants hasn't killed him yet. He doesn't care about anything, just likes to stare at the wall all day. It's a wall; what's there to see?”
Shit, what am I supposed to say to that? I can't say I ever had a great relationship with my parents, but that was more my fault than theirs. Early on I realized how different I was from everybody else and learned to fake being normal. I faked it with everyone, including my parents. Uphill City was such they would have more loyalty to the government than to me. Zoe, though, she sounds like she actually wants her parents to pay attention.
My voice cracks as I whisper, “I'm sorry.”
I want to get out of here. Even dying out in the wasteland seems like a better plan some days. Does anybody around here care about their fellow human? The Compound poisoned even Jake. He's hardened into an entirely new person, one I don't like, one who doesn't like me. It's been a week since I asked Zoe to find out what's wrong with him and, during that time, he has not spoken a word to me. Not one.
Zoe answers, “Don't be sorry. I'm used to it. Been like that since I can remember.”
That's not a reason to be less sorry! I chance a look at her. Zoe's eyes are downcast, and she's forgotten all about her ice cream, which has started to melt. So has mine. I've lost my appetite. I say, “I'm still sorry.”
Her eyes light up in a jarring transition. Clearly, she just stuffed her feelings away and wants to change the subject. She doesn't get a chance to before the door opens. My heart jumps into my throat, and my stomach twists. It's Jake. He looks as distant as ever. I'm sure he'll ignore us, because why would he even care if I have someone with me?
He glances towards us, and his stony face shifts a little. I see surprise there, but I don't expect him to act on it, so I'm shocked when he says, “Your ice cream's melted.”
Zoe's as shocked as I am. Her eyes go wide, and her mouth hangs open. She stares at Jake. For once, she's at a loss for words. I'm at a loss, too, because after a week the first thing Jake says to me is about my ice cream. How do you respond to that? I stare at the coffeemaker instead of at him.
Zoe blinks rapidly. “Your hair is so shiny.”
Jake is confused. “Who are you?” he asks.
She gets up from the table and offers her hand. They shake. “I'm Zoe. You must be Jake.”
“Yeah, I am.”
Of all things, I feel jealousy. Jake is sure being nicer to Zoe than he is to me. Afterward, Jake turns to look at me. He doesn't say anything, but he clearly wants an explanation. I grumble, “If you want an explanation, you're going to have to actually speak to me and ask.”
Something flits across his face that I don't understand. “Don't be like this. You're the one who brought a stranger into our apartment.”
"If Zoe weren't around, I'd have to hold myself back from punching him. “Jake, let's not fight. I was trying to enjoy my ice cream with Zoe here.”
He demands, “Why is Zoe here?”
She straightens her posture. “I'm here because you're being stupid, and I think I might know why.”
I...what?
Jake blinks, bemused. “Excuse me? Did you just call me stupid?”
Zoe continues, unfazed, “Yes. And you are. You won't talk to Vivienne, which is stupid. I think it's because of what they're doing to you and her.”
Is Zoe really saying this? Out loud? In front of Jake? And they're not doing anything to me. Are they?
He stammers, “Th-that is none of your business. You-you're a child; you wouldn't even know.”
She actually puts a hand on her hip. “I know enough. I've seen them taking kids to the same area where the take you. I can't get in there, yet, but I've seen them. I saw a YSC kid crying after he left. Haven't seen him again. They're doing something, and it's bad. But you can't say anything about it, can you? Because if Vivienne finds out what you're doing, they'll kill her. But you're being stupid not saying anything, because, really, they'll probably kill her anyway.”
Zoe's words take some time to truly sink in. Everything outside my head goes quiet. I can't think or breathe or process what she said. There's just this rushing noise in my ears and a feeling of being underwater, only worse. When what she said finally reaches my brain, I gasp. The Compound would have no problem killing me. I'm sure of this, just as I'm sure there's no hope, but something won't let me give up. Despite the horror, I feel a resolve growing to...do something, though I don't know what. Whatever happens, I won't die easily.
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written for 500themes prompt #281 - "Call of the Wild"
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16
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I sit with Zoe at our small square kitchen table. We're eating ice cream, vanilla to be specific. Even the ice cream in this apartment is white. I feel so weird having a kid over to my place with nobody else around, but she says she has some important information she will reveal only when she gets ice cream. Honestly, I bet she would reveal her information anyway, but we might as well enjoy a frozen treat. There are few enough things to enjoy around here.
I put my spoon down. “Don't you have parents? Or school?”
Zoe finishes her latest bite of ice cream. “I'm on break. The kids who got into the YSC have, like, ultra-intense training now, but me? I've got nothing to do.”
Hey, she didn't answer the other part of the question. “Don't your parents care where you are, though?”
She avoids my gaze. “Nope.”
A place like this and her parents don't care where she goes? That doesn't seem right; the Compound is downright treacherous, and I doubt Kline likes having young children running around. I hope Zoe is smart enough not to get caught doing anything wrong. I'm not sure about that, because she really, really can't keep her mouth shut. A pang of guilt strikes me because I asked her to get me information that could put her at risk. She probably would have done what I wanted on her own, but, still...I shouldn't have done that.
I try to use a soothing a voice. “They really don't care?”
Zoe says, “Nope. Mom is too busy sucking up to Overseer Scarypants with her job, and Dad's just a lazy buttface who doesn't even have a job. I'm surprised Scarypants hasn't killed him yet. He doesn't care about anything, just likes to stare at the wall all day. It's a wall; what's there to see?”
Shit, what am I supposed to say to that? I can't say I ever had a great relationship with my parents, but that was more my fault than theirs. Early on I realized how different I was from everybody else and learned to fake being normal. I faked it with everyone, including my parents. Uphill City was such they would have more loyalty to the government than to me. Zoe, though, she sounds like she actually wants her parents to pay attention.
My voice cracks as I whisper, “I'm sorry.”
I want to get out of here. Even dying out in the wasteland seems like a better plan some days. Does anybody around here care about their fellow human? The Compound poisoned even Jake. He's hardened into an entirely new person, one I don't like, one who doesn't like me. It's been a week since I asked Zoe to find out what's wrong with him and, during that time, he has not spoken a word to me. Not one.
Zoe answers, “Don't be sorry. I'm used to it. Been like that since I can remember.”
That's not a reason to be less sorry! I chance a look at her. Zoe's eyes are downcast, and she's forgotten all about her ice cream, which has started to melt. So has mine. I've lost my appetite. I say, “I'm still sorry.”
Her eyes light up in a jarring transition. Clearly, she just stuffed her feelings away and wants to change the subject. She doesn't get a chance to before the door opens. My heart jumps into my throat, and my stomach twists. It's Jake. He looks as distant as ever. I'm sure he'll ignore us, because why would he even care if I have someone with me?
He glances towards us, and his stony face shifts a little. I see surprise there, but I don't expect him to act on it, so I'm shocked when he says, “Your ice cream's melted.”
Zoe's as shocked as I am. Her eyes go wide, and her mouth hangs open. She stares at Jake. For once, she's at a loss for words. I'm at a loss, too, because after a week the first thing Jake says to me is about my ice cream. How do you respond to that? I stare at the coffeemaker instead of at him.
Zoe blinks rapidly. “Your hair is so shiny.”
Jake is confused. “Who are you?” he asks.
She gets up from the table and offers her hand. They shake. “I'm Zoe. You must be Jake.”
“Yeah, I am.”
Of all things, I feel jealousy. Jake is sure being nicer to Zoe than he is to me. Afterward, Jake turns to look at me. He doesn't say anything, but he clearly wants an explanation. I grumble, “If you want an explanation, you're going to have to actually speak to me and ask.”
Something flits across his face that I don't understand. “Don't be like this. You're the one who brought a stranger into our apartment.”
"If Zoe weren't around, I'd have to hold myself back from punching him. “Jake, let's not fight. I was trying to enjoy my ice cream with Zoe here.”
He demands, “Why is Zoe here?”
She straightens her posture. “I'm here because you're being stupid, and I think I might know why.”
I...what?
Jake blinks, bemused. “Excuse me? Did you just call me stupid?”
Zoe continues, unfazed, “Yes. And you are. You won't talk to Vivienne, which is stupid. I think it's because of what they're doing to you and her.”
Is Zoe really saying this? Out loud? In front of Jake? And they're not doing anything to me. Are they?
He stammers, “Th-that is none of your business. You-you're a child; you wouldn't even know.”
She actually puts a hand on her hip. “I know enough. I've seen them taking kids to the same area where the take you. I can't get in there, yet, but I've seen them. I saw a YSC kid crying after he left. Haven't seen him again. They're doing something, and it's bad. But you can't say anything about it, can you? Because if Vivienne finds out what you're doing, they'll kill her. But you're being stupid not saying anything, because, really, they'll probably kill her anyway.”
Zoe's words take some time to truly sink in. Everything outside my head goes quiet. I can't think or breathe or process what she said. There's just this rushing noise in my ears and a feeling of being underwater, only worse. When what she said finally reaches my brain, I gasp. The Compound would have no problem killing me. I'm sure of this, just as I'm sure there's no hope, but something won't let me give up. Despite the horror, I feel a resolve growing to...do something, though I don't know what. Whatever happens, I won't die easily.
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written for 500themes prompt #281 - "Call of the Wild"