When I’m back in my room, I lay on my bed and stare up at the dingy gray ceiling, its plaster peeling in chunks. It’s too early to go to sleep, but there isn’t anything else to do. I turn the lights off with the switch by my bed. My eyes are barely closed when the door flies open and the lights flash back on.
“Maxy, you missed it,” Brink says, storming into the room.
“I keep telling you to stop calling me that.” I pick up my pillow and drop it over my head, blocking him, and the light, out.
He pulls the pillow off and practically jumps into the bed. “They’re going to pick two people from the Outer Limits to compete in The Litarian Battles.”
I start shoving him off, but he’s a lot stronger than I am, so I don’t move him at all. “Why would I care? It’s a stupid show.”
He pulls the covers over himself, wrapping his arms around my waist. “I hope it’s me.”
“So do I, since I’d love to have a room to myself.” I jab him in the ribs with my elbow, but it doesn’t do any good. “When is this supposed to happen?”
“Tomorrow, early afternoon.”
Great, I will be the only one working tomorrow.
He starts caressing my arm. I hit him in the stomach, which causes him to stop, but only for a few seconds. “Come on, Maxy, if I’m chosen you may never see me again.”
“That works for me.” I take my heel and kick backwards, getting him in the crotch.
He lets go and rolls onto the floor moaning. I turn the lights off, but I don’t close my eyes. This has become almost a nightly ritual between the two of us. He’s never going to learn that I’m not interested, but unfortunately there aren’t any open beds other than the two in our room. I’ll be glad when he turns twenty-one in a few months, then he’ll be given a permit to move into second-level housing. I have two years to wait before I get mine.
I’m up before the sun is. Tilda has breakfast waiting for me in the kitchen along with my clothes freshly laundered. I eat quickly, wanting to get a jump on the work since I’ll be the only one out there. I put on my winter coat, hat, and gloves while Tilda cleans my dishes. She moves breakfast to the dining hall for everyone else as I go out the backdoor. I check the carriage I worked on yesterday, making sure the new floor adhered properly. I have to finish painting it before moving on to the next one. I find a couple of more rust spots that need treating by the cable attachment, but those are easily handled within a half-hour. The second car needs minor repairs, mainly the gears that need to be oiled. I paint over the spots that Lil scraped yesterday. I decide to wait until after lunch to work on the third carriage.
My hands are frozen by the time I walk into the kitchen, but Tilda isn’t there. I exit into the large foyer and cross over to the common room. Everyone is surrounded around the large display hanging from the far wall. Even the staff, which is unusual. I find Tilda huddled in a corner, squeezed between two other staff members.
“Why is everyone in here?” I ask quietly when I reach her.
“Their choosing the new contestants,” she whispers back.
Why does this matter to everyone? It’s just a stupid show. Nothing but a game.
I’ve only viewed a few minutes of it. I can’t see what the appeal is watching others fight each other in simulated battle. No one dies, or gets hurt, they only rack up points, which doesn’t mean anything. Normally the contestants are volunteers from the city of Tarsus. Young adults between the ages of twenty and twenty-five. I don’t ever remember a time when someone from the Outer Limits was allowed to participate. The Litarian Battles has only been around for a little over five years, but it’s been so ingrained into our daily lives that it seems like it’s always been on.
“I hope everyone is excited about this as I am,” the announcer says through speakers over my head. I can’t see the display itself, so I have no idea what the man looks like, or even how the process is being handled. “The two new contestants from the Outer Limits are Lil Jasper and Drake Kelly.”
The front of the room erupts in joy for Lil. I retreat back to the kitchen with Tilda and help her prepare lunch. She won’t let me near the food until I shower. I roll my eyes and head up to the communal bathroom. In order to access the shower stall, we’re all given a code to enter into the keypad by the glass door. The code only works on the day you have permission to use the stall. A freshly cleaned towel hangs on the other side of the door, along with a small bottle of soap. I close the door, making sure it locks, take off my clothes, and step into the hot water. The shower is timed, so the clock above the spigot begins to count down from ten minutes. I wash quickly, since
