“I think I get it. You like girls,” Gabi said, eager to reassure her friend. “But isn’t that lonely? I don’t know anyone else like that, and it’s totally against doctrine. Wouldn’t it be easier if you just liked guys?” She was asking as much for herself as for Marnie. Had this world, this possibility, been there all the time?
Marnie laughed harshly. “Yes, Lowell, it is lonely, but not because no one is like me. Lots of people are, they’re just too afraid to admit it. This isn’t something a person can change just by wanting to. Unitas treats people like me like we don’t even exist. Like it’s something that only happens in the Tribes. Man, the look on your face right now is priceless.”
“But what does this have to do with Beth? Is she like that too? But she’s a counselor! She went on a Witness trip last year!”
Marnie returned the crushed letter to her pocket and shook her head. “She likes girls. That’s obvious to anyone with half a brain, no offense, but she would never admit it, even though that is for sure why she got matched up with me at camp. Ruth isn’t as dumb as she looks.”
“What does Ruth have to do with it?” Gabi asked, her voice trembling at the realization that there might be yet another way in which she was an outcast.
“That day after the gun challenge, when Beth and I were back at the lodge? I think she was trying to convert me or something. It was weird, like she was a double agent.”
“But you’re already baptized,” Gabi protested. “All transfers are. You don’t need to be converted.”
“I’m talking about converting me to someone who wants to be with guys. To be a fraud, like she is.”
“So why are you still talking to her?” Gabi exclaimed, realizing what a vulnerable position Marnie was in, especially if she was exchanging letters with Beth. There was no such thing as private correspondence in the fellowship. All phone lines were tapped, and all letters were read by Homefront Safety analysts to insure that passcodes weren’t leaked to the Tribes. The council believed that total surveillance was the only way for Unitas to protect God’s people. “Be careful, okay?” Gabi pleaded. “With the letters, I mean. Don’t say anything that might alert the analysts. Anything suspicious goes straight to the council.”
“Relax, Lowell, they aren’t love letters.” Gabi swallowed a relieved sigh, feeling helpless to understand what it all meant, for Marnie and for her. “Beth and I are just having a spirited discussion, in very vague terms, about what God intended with the whole Adam-and-Eve thing. Beth’s pretty brainwashed, but she doesn’t shut me down. It’s nothing you wouldn’t hear in a youth group debate.”
“We never debate stuff like that in youth group, Marnie, which you would know if you ever went. Just be careful.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Marnie said. “I know all about playing dead. If it meant a better chance of getting myself through this exam and out of Alder, I’d borrow Ruth’s wedding dress and show up at Luke’s house shouting, ‘I do!’” Gabi sputtered a laugh into her glass of milk. “Okay, Lowell, time to pay up. A secret for a secret, remember?”
Gabi had completely forgotten the hasty bargain she’d made, but it only took a moment for her to decide which of her secrets she could safely share. She’d been dying to show the whale photo to someone, though she would have to be careful not to let Marnie look too closely lest she decipher Gram’s message. That would bring Marnie dangerously close to the one thing Gabi couldn’t tell anyone until she was away from Alder. She worked her hand under her mattress, withdrew the creased sheet of paper, then unfolded it gently, taking care to keep as much of the border bearing Gram’s handwriting concealed as possible as she held it up. Marnie reached for it, but Gabi snatched the paper away.
“It’s really delicate. I’d rather hold it myself.”
“Whatever you say, weirdo.” Marnie leaned in close, squinting at the photo of the dissected flipper. “Huh. For a second there I thought you were going to show me something good.”
“Forget it,” Gabi said, thoroughly crushed as she refolded the paper.
“No, wait!” Marnie said, laying a hand on Gabi’s arm. “I’m sorry. I just don’t know what it is. Tell me, I’m really interested.” Marnie put on a schoolgirl face and folded her hands demurely in her lap. Gabi softened at the comical display and relented.
“Okay, well, I wasn’t lying during the purity ceremony when I said I snuck out of services, but it wasn’t to meet a boy. I broke into the Correction Facility using a passcard I stole from my dad.”
“No shiiiiit!” Marnie exclaimed, obviously impressed. “You really stole your dad’s passcard? Why? And why the Corrections Facility? Why not sneak into dry storage and eat yourself silly if you were going to bust into someplace?”
“Look around you,” Gabi said. “These books have been my whole life, and more than half of what’s in them is hidden under black ink. I got tired of not knowing things just because someone else decided I shouldn’t.” Marnie grinned, placing a hand on Gabi’s knee. The solid warmth of her touch raised gooseflesh on Gabi’s arms. What was happening to her?
“Way to go, Lowell. That’s awesome. Seriously, I don’t even bother with books since I came to Alder. Reading what’s left in them feels worse than not reading at all.” This explained why Marnie was barely passing her classes. The fact she’d managed to pass without reading any of her assignments was a testament to her intelligence and her determination to do whatever it
