Zach led Gabi over to where Peter and Jordan stood in conversation by the fireplace, giving Peter a one-armed hug as they approached. “Catch her up on the doings, my brother,” Zach said. “Break’s over in ten, then we’re going to be heading outside.”
Peter’s chest puffed out as he watched Zach’s retreat with hero worship glimmering in his eyes. Peter’s twitching hands were unmarked, and Jordan’s, which were large and covered in old scars of nearly every shape and size, were wound-free as well.
“So,” Gabi said with forced enthusiasm, “what have you all been up to out here?”
“They asked us to gather in our teams and make a list of obstacles or weaknesses that might still be standing in the way of receiving our calling,” Peter informed her. “They gave us a list of categories, and we’re supposed to pick from that.” He gestured toward an old chalkboard affixed to the wall, darkened by the shadow of the shaggy moose head. On the board’s milky green surface, the five obstacles were listed as Weak Faith, Insecurity, Lack of Will, Fear of Losing Control, and Selfishness. “I picked Fear of Losing Control,” Peter said, “and Blubbo here picked Selfishness. Would have pegged him as more of a ‘Lack of Will’ type myself, but what do I know?”
“Funny,” Gabi retorted. “I would have pegged you as more of an Insecurity type myself.”
“Yeah, well… whatever. I’m going to hit the head before break’s over.” Peter shoved his hands into his pockets and picked his way through the clumps of teens toward the bathroom. As Gabi watched him go, Jordan nudged her arm, offering her two soft ham-and-cheese buns in one big paw.
“Take them. They’re safe,” he whispered. “Quick.” Despite her earlier bout of sickness, the scent of the rolls brought Gabi’s appetite surging back to life, and she eagerly swiped them from his hand.
“Thanks,” she murmured, “I’ll save one for Marn—uh, Marian.” Gabi looked toward the hallway leading to the dorm. Marnie was nowhere in sight. Why was it taking so long?
“I got some for her too. Those are for you,” Jordan said.
Turning her back more fully to the room, Gabi tore off small pieces of bun and poked them between her lips, hoping her stomach would accept the offering.
“What did you mean ‘they’re safe’?” Gabi asked as she savored the tang of real cheddar.
“Oh. Nothing.” Jordan’s color deepened. “I only meant… I meant I won’t tell that I saved you some food.”
“Well, I should think not. The counselors would ask me where I got it, and then you’d be in trouble too. But that’s not what you meant.” Jordan shifted inside his clothes. “It’s okay,” Gabi said softly. “You can trust me.”
“I can’t. It’s not just me who would get in trouble if you told.”
“Jordan, look at me,” Gabi insisted, raising her wounded hands in front of his face. “I wouldn’t have these if I was someone who tells, now would I?”
Jordan’s eyes darted over her shoulder. Peter emerged from the bathroom, stopping to chat with Zach on his way toward them.
“Okay, but if you say anything, I’ll have to tell Ruth you snuck out last night. Any chance you might still have of getting on a Witness team will be gone.”
Gabi choked on the wad of dough in her mouth. “How did you know I’m trying to make a Witness team?”
“I know that look. I saw it on my sister’s face before she got recruited. You watch everything, like I do. I can tell you’re not all-in with this whole camp thing, but you’re pushing yourself through it anyway. You must want it pretty bad.”
“Well, I think I ruined my chances this morning anyway,” Gabi said, “but the last thing I want is to give Ruth any more reasons to come after me. I won’t tell, I promise.”
Jordan spared Peter another glance, then took a tentative step toward her. “My sister told me that they put some kind of muscle relaxer in the food here to keep everyone mellow so we can get into the spirit of things. It’s supposed to lower our resistance to letting go. She said lots of fellows know about it, but they don’t make an issue because it seems to work. It’s not in all the food. If you only eat what the counselors eat, you can keep a clear head. If you want to, that is.”
The muddled feeling Gabi had been plagued by the night before suddenly made sense. She did want to get her calling tomorrow, if only to redeem herself in the eyes of the recruiters, but that cloak of smog in her brain reminded her too much of her medication. Her sharp senses were the only advantage she had in Ruth’s world. But why was Jordan so determined to avoid the drugged food? It was delicious and relatively harmless, if you didn’t mind the fuzzy edges.
“Are you trying to get recruited too?” Gabi asked, leaning close to stay out of Peter’s earshot as the boy approached.
Jordan nodded. “If I get recruited, I’ll be fed during missions, and my parents will get my rations while I’m gone, as well as my sister’s. They won’t have any other children to worry about, and they’ll get well again. I’d avoid the tainted food too, if I were you. That Bradley kid looks at you like he wants to shoot you, stuff you, and mount you on the wall. What did you do to him?”
“She bashed his face in,” a gritty voice drawled
