I couldn’t remember the last time I studied with another person, and it took me far longer to get into the flow than I expected. Usually, I could just sit down and power through my homework, but I wasn’t used to having another person in the room with me, and Olivia's presence there made me a little anxious. It threw me off my game.

  “Would you mind reading my poem and letting me know what you think?” Olivia asked, making me jump.

  I spun my chair towards her, and did my best to hide my nerves. “Sure! Let’s see what you have.”

  Olivia slowly extended her workbook towards me, her eyes probing my expression. “Is there something wrong? You don’t look that good. Do you want some water or something?”

  “Thanks, but no thanks,” I said, putting on a brave face. “I just realised this is the first time I’ve ever studied, or done homework with another person. Even though I know it shouldn’t make a difference, it puts me on edge for some reason.”

  “I didn’t realise I was making you uncomfortable,” Olivia muttered. “I could move back into my room and give you some privacy if you want.”

  She looked so disappointed that I jumped out of my chair. “No, no, no, that’s not necessary. Just because I’m not used to it doesn’t mean that I want you to leave. I just need some time to acclimatise."

  After taking her book, I sank back into my chair and gave her a small, weary smile. “I’m sorry, I’m still getting used to the whole being social with friends thing. Hopefully I’m not making you too uncomfortable with all my awkwardness.”

  “You’re not!” Olivia insisted. “And don’t worry about it. Working through social anxiety is hard enough at the best of times. I can’t imagine how hard it would be when you’re also dealing with all the revelations you’re having with your friends, and the fact that you’re empowered. I don’t think I’d be able to handle it.”

  “Well, it’s not easy,” I admitted. “The trick is not to dwell on it all. It’s hard enough to deal with at the moment; obsessing over it all would be overwhelming.”

  “I bet,” Olivia muttered.

  Using the brief pause in our conversation, I lifted Olivia’s notebook and read through her poem. When I was done, I looked up at her, surprised. “This is really good! Do you practice writing? This doesn’t read like your first attempt at a poem.”

  “I do write, but not poetry,” Olivia said, blushing. “You think it’s good enough for the assignment.”

  “Write three to five paragraphs using symbolism? Absolutely,” I replied, handing the book back.

  “I’m glad. I’m always nervous when I submit my first few homework assignments to a new teacher. It usually takes a couple of days to figure out what they expect,” Oliva said.

  “Do you switch teachers a lot?” I asked, looking at her suspiciously. “Usually that’s only a problem at the start of the year, isn’t it?”

  “For most people,” Olivia agreed. “However, we had to move a couple of times due to my mother's work. She likes to supervise the initial construction efforts of the buildings she designs. It’s not really necessary, but she feels responsible for her designs.”

  “Good for her,” I replied. “I imagine most people in her position would just crank out a bunch of blueprints and never think about the final building.”

  “She takes pride in her work,” Olivia agreed proudly.

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  Before we could continue our discussion, a call came from the main room. “Girls, dinner!”

  I knew that voice, and it wasn’t Mrs Taylor.

  Scrambling to my feet, I rushed back into the kitchen. Sure enough, my mother was there, wearing a chocolate brown blouse and skirt combo that I’d only seen her wear a couple of times before.

  “Mom! You’re back! How did your interview go?” I asked, enveloping her in a hug.

  “It went exceptionally well,” she laughed. “Starting tomorrow, I’m working as an office administrator for the Bureau of Empowered Investigations.”

  I pulled back slightly so that I could look her in the face. “You’re working for the BEI?”

  “Honey, pretty much everyone in this town either works for or is associated with the BEI, and having a recommendation from them goes a long way in the Enclaves. Or at least, so I’ve been told,” she explained. “If I do a good job, it should be pretty easy for me to find work once you’re done here.”

  “If you say so,” I muttered, unconvinced.

  “I do,” she replied, patting me on the head. “If you’re concerned, we can discuss it later, once we get home. Now it’s time to eat, and Abigail prepared a feast for us.”

  “It’s just Spaghetti, salad and garlic bread,” Mrs Taylor laughed. “It’s far from a feast.”

  “We still appreciate you inviting us over for dinner,” I said politely. “Thank you.”

  “It’s no problem,” the woman replied, smiling widely. “Have a seat.”

  The small square wooden dining room table was cramped. It was either designed for only two people or the smallest table the BEI could get away with providing for a family of four. We made it work by leaving the spaghetti and salad on the counter so that it wouldn’t take up precious table space.

  Since I didn’t want to be rude, I waited until Mrs Taylor and Olivia started to eat. I poked at the noodles experimentally before twirling up a forkful of noodles and sauce. When I popped the noodles into my mouth, my eyes went wide.

  “What did you do to this spaghetti?” I asked once I choked down the food. “It’s so tender, and the sauce is so good!”

  “I didn’t do anything special,” Mrs Taylor replied. “I just used fresh pasta and threw together the sauce that Olivia and I discovered in a cookbook a couple of years ago.”

  I blinked. “You can get fresh pasta?”

  “You didn’t think that it all came in a dry stick form, did you?” my mother asked. “We didn’t have many options for fresh food back in the old neighbourhood, just what Cooper used to bring in. The markets around here are much better, and with my new salary, we can afford to splurge on food a little more. Expect to eat better going forward.”

  “I can’t wait,” I muttered, shovelling another forkful of pasta into my mouth, and drawing giggles from around the table.

  I didn’t say much during the meal, choosing to listen to my mother and Mrs Taylor talk about their experiences around town. I’d only managed to get a glimpse of the main street when we first entered the campus, and it sounded like there wasn’t much more to the town.

  There were a couple of offices and minor businesses off to the side, but besides that, the town mainly consisted of housing for the teachers, staff, and townsfolk. I guess that made sense; they probably didn’t want civilians living in the same area as the Empowered. If getting caught near a Rupture during the day was bad, being in the same area while you were asleep would have been a nightmare.

  After the meal, Mrs Taylor stood up to take the plates, but Olivia stopped her. “You know the rules. You cooked dinner, so I get to do the dishes. That’s not going to change just because we have guests!”

  “And I’ll help,” I declared, taking my mother’s plate.

  “Well, well, well. Look how well we’ve raised our children,” Mrs Taylor laughed. “Go on then.”

  I followed Olivia into the small kitchen and placed the plates onto the counter. “I know I volunteered to help, but I don’t think we’re both going to fit around that sink.”

  “I’ll wash, you dry,” Olivia laughed. She pulled out a stack of kitchen towels and handed them to me before fishing the dish soap out from under the sink.

  “Sooo… dinner went well,” I said after a couple sof econds, trying to make small talk.

  “It did! Our mothers seemed to really hit it off with one another,” Olivia replied. “I wonder if it has something to do with being a single parent.”

  “Maybe. It definitely wasn’t due to having similar jobs or living conditions,” I muttered, earning an elbow in the side from Olivia.

  “Hey, money isn’t everything. Even though you and your mom didn’t have a ton of money, I can tell that you did your best with what you had, and you care for each other. You did your best with what you had, and that’s the important thing,” Olivia declared, passing me a wet plate.

  “You’re right… Even though the situation wasn’t great, I wouldn’t have traded our time together for anything,” I replied softly.

  “Family’s important,” Olivia declared solemnly. “Now… get to drying those plates. We still have a lot of dishes to get through.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I laughed.

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