Turning Eighteen
Mo silently thanked the station for saving her from what might have been an uncomfortable conversation and tried to concentrate on dancing. Tonight, it would be her turn to dance with everyone. Though that would leave Les available to dance with others, and there were probably a couple of women here who’d love to spin Les around the dance floor. Like Joanna, for example. Mo was convinced that Joanna had a raving crush on Les. The moment Les was without a dance partner, Joanna would move in, try to impress Les with her fancy moves and—
Tears prickled at Mo’s eyelashes. What was she doing, tonight of all nights? Why worry about Joanna? What was the point? Les’s Chosen would get her in the end. Who cared what happened until then? What did it flaming matter? You’re only the stand-in, remember? Her feelings for Les . . . they didn’t count, not to the Chosen Council. So let Joanna dance with Les. Some woman out there would eventually live with Les, sleep with Les, have daughters with Les, be everything to Les, so what would one dance matter?
She stopped dancing. Les looked at her, puzzled. Mo let go of her and drew back. “I should go properly thank my parents for arranging this.”
“Now?” Les asked, her arm still around Mo’s waist.
“Yeah.” She turned and walked toward Mama and Papa. When Les’s hand brushed hers, she grabbed it and held on. Les must be terribly confused. Mo knew she wasn’t being fair to her, wanting her one second and rebuffing her the next. But her heart and mind were at constant war, and her behaviour reflected whichever was winning at the time. It would be easier for both her and Les if they agreed with each other. She needed to find the button that all other Rymellans apparently found—the one that would instantly turn off her feelings for Les and have her beaming brighter than the sun when the Chosen Council summoned her. If it summoned her—there were still a few hours to go until midnight.
Her parents, Adelaide and Alan, and her siblings stood in a corner, deep in conversation. It figured that all the old people over twenty would stick together.
“My parents are here,” Les said with surprise. She must not have noticed them earlier.
“You didn’t know they’d be here?” Mo asked.
Les shook her head.
Mama’s brow furrowed when she saw them. “I thought you were dancing.”
“I sort of felt bad, running off without really thanking you,” Mo said. “I mean, you didn’t have to do this, but you did, and it was a nice surprise.”
“Aw,” Mama said, squeezing Mo for the umpteenth time that day.
Mo looked at Neil, Mary, and Matthew. “And I can’t believe you’re all here.” She nodded toward Adelaide and Alan. “And you.”
“I didn’t know you were coming,” Les said to her parents.
“We wouldn’t miss Mo’s eighteenth,” Adelaide said indignantly.
Les’s hand tightened around Mo’s. Mo glanced at her, just in time to see Les smooth her features and resume the mask of indifference she worked so hard to maintain around her parents. Les had invited them to visit her twice, and had received excuses in response. Mo wished they hadn’t come.
“Well, maybe you’ll come see my room.” Les paused. “When you have a minute.”
Alan nodded, but Adelaide appeared to mull over the request. “Since we’re here, I suppose we should,” she finally said. “But it’ll have to be soon. Unfortunately, we can’t stay until midnight. We both have early cases tomorrow.”
“Why don’t you go now?” Mama said.
Adelaide shrugged. “We might as well.”
Mo squeezed Les’s hand. What she really wanted to do was hug her and tell her how much she loved her and how proud she was that Les had stood up to her parents and followed her dream. But such an obvious display of affection in front of their parents would mortify Les. Plus, Mo had never told Les that she loved her, not explicitly. She couldn’t commit to Les, promise her anything, or plan a future with her. “I love you” would sound desperate and hollow—Les may even think her weak in the Way. If Les ever said it, Mo would definitely say it back. But Les never had, maybe because she didn’t feel the same way, or maybe because she knew it would only be a reminder of the future they probably wouldn’t have. Why say something that would only hurt?
“Maybe we can try dancing again later?” Les said, turning to Mo.
“I’d like that.” She pulled on Les’s hand. Les bent forward. “I’m sorry about before,” Mo said into Les’s ear. “It’s a weird day today, you know? I—”
“Hey, Lesley, you’re not going to hog Mo all night, are you?” bellowed Carl, a fellow cadet. “There’s a whole lineup of people waiting to dance with her. I’m first.” Mo wanted to strangle him.
“Save me a dance,” Les whispered, then straightened. “Perfect timing. I’m just about to take my parents over to the dormitory.” She let go of Mo’s hand and motioned for her parents to follow her.
“Happy eighteenth!” Carl offered Mo his arm.
Mo accepted it and smiled weakly, though her attention remained on Les, who was almost at the door. The room was filled with people, but the moment Les left, it felt empty.
Lesley popped a cheese-topped cracker into her mouth and watched Mo and the rest of the Middletons gather at the front of the room. She’d deliberately chosen to stand in a dark corner. She wanted to be alone, and Mo would have to strain to see her. Only four minutes to midnight. She doubted a Chosen Council courier would suddenly race into the room and thrust a Solitary Notification into Mo’s hands, so it was official. Mo was a Chosen.
Good. That’s what Lesley wanted. It would be easier knowing that Mo had a special someone in her future—for Mo, too. Now it was crystal clear that their relationship, while important, was temporary. To pretend otherwise would not only be futile, but cruel. Actually, it had been crystal clear since Lesley’s eighteenth, but Mo seemed to be clinging to the possibility that they could be each other’s Chosen. Lesley had no intention of saying or doing anything to encourage that notion. She cared too much about Mo to help set her up for disappointment. Reiterating that they must trust the Chosen Council and reminding Mo that they’d come to love their Chosens, as all Rymellans did, would be the best thing she could do for her. Though it would be hard, perhaps even hurt.