he’d created and stood for. But now he won’t do anything to overrule Zizi and get the blank taken out, I’m so angry with him I probably couldn’t speak to him even if he did bother to see me. Every time I see his face on an e-mag or on the side of a bus I want to take a black marker to it and give him a pirate’s patch and black tooth. Because I know he was right to laugh at Detective Lee. Max is the one with the real power. And yet, when it’s come to me, he’s not willing to use it.
Of course, it’s Zizi I’m truly angry with. She was the one who made the decision. She was the one who could have saved me but chose not to. For the first time in her life she sided with the authorities. Some rebel she is.
I wave at the wall and the petal print pattern fades and is replaced with the image from whichever channel I left it on last. Some music channel by the looks of it.
Zizi never watches TV. She doesn’t need to. She streams all her entertainment direct to her eyeballs. Even then, there’s only one show she’ll watch, called Corner Office . It’s a soap opera about corporate life, which Zizi watches precisely because it’s so far from reality. She calls it her one indulgence.
‘Oh, Christ, no. Make it stop!’ Kiara groans, covering her ears with her hands.
Nathaniel Buckleberry has come on, playing his latest song. I’ve not heard it yet, but I’m guessing it’s the one he played for everyone at the protest. In fact, as I pay attention to the lyrics, I realise the song is called ‘Protest Song’. He never was known for his burning originality.
‘Sing with me, these words of protest,’ he warbles, strumming his acoustic guitar in front of a choir of school children. I wave my hand to flick channels before I hear any more. Some old game show is on.
We watch it for a bit, shouting out answers when we know them. Although Kiara is cheating, I’m sure, by stripping the answers from her stream. She probably doesn’t even know she’s doing it. All that information is waiting for her, like it won’t be for me for years.
‘Are you really going to go through with it?’ I ask, pointing at the back of my neck.
‘Elephants,’ she says, answering the last question. ‘Huh? Oh, the chip. Maybe. I don’t know. I’m not sure I know what I’d do with myself without it.’
‘All right for some,’ I say under my breath.
‘Oh, Pet, I didn’t mean...’
I wave her apology away. ‘Don’t worry, it’s not your fault.’
‘I meant it though. It’s not all that. Take this, right. I’ve have, this very second, got a slide from Mum asking what I want for dinner. It’s the third one today. I’m tempted to say “peace and quiet”, but she’ll only cry again.’ Kiara stands up. ‘Anyway, I’d better go. Thanks, Petri. I needed this. I missed you.’
‘Me too,’ I say, and I stand to give her a hug. ‘Don’t leave it so long, OK? I’m always here for you,’ I say into her thick, apple-smelling hair.
She smiles and waves goodbye, calling up the stairs to thank Zizi as she lets herself out.
‘Always here,’ I say, to the empty room. ‘Because I sure as hell don’t have anywhere else to be.’
7
‘ETHAN,’ I SAY, to the school secretary a week later. ‘I know he was here at City High at the beginning of the year and he lent me something I want to give back.’
I’ve not been able to stop thinking about Ethan since I got the ban. Everyone in school looks at me with pity. Or doesn’t even bother looking at me at all. It’s like if you’re not on Glaze, you don’t exist. That’s why I have to find him. The only other teenager I know who’s not on. Someone who can tell me that I’m real.
‘Hmm.’ Mrs Sanderson chews on the inside of her cheek as her eyes gloss over. I hit her desk with my fist without even meaning to. Even the school’s octogenarian secretary is hooked up and the rage is enough to make me want to cry. Cry or
Of course, it’s Zizi I’m truly angry with. She was the one who made the decision. She was the one who could have saved me but chose not to. For the first time in her life she sided with the authorities. Some rebel she is.
I wave at the wall and the petal print pattern fades and is replaced with the image from whichever channel I left it on last. Some music channel by the looks of it.
Zizi never watches TV. She doesn’t need to. She streams all her entertainment direct to her eyeballs. Even then, there’s only one show she’ll watch, called Corner Office . It’s a soap opera about corporate life, which Zizi watches precisely because it’s so far from reality. She calls it her one indulgence.
‘Oh, Christ, no. Make it stop!’ Kiara groans, covering her ears with her hands.
Nathaniel Buckleberry has come on, playing his latest song. I’ve not heard it yet, but I’m guessing it’s the one he played for everyone at the protest. In fact, as I pay attention to the lyrics, I realise the song is called ‘Protest Song’. He never was known for his burning originality.
‘Sing with me, these words of protest,’ he warbles, strumming his acoustic guitar in front of a choir of school children. I wave my hand to flick channels before I hear any more. Some old game show is on.
We watch it for a bit, shouting out answers when we know them. Although Kiara is cheating, I’m sure, by stripping the answers from her stream. She probably doesn’t even know she’s doing it. All that information is waiting for her, like it won’t be for me for years.
‘Are you really going to go through with it?’ I ask, pointing at the back of my neck.
‘Elephants,’ she says, answering the last question. ‘Huh? Oh, the chip. Maybe. I don’t know. I’m not sure I know what I’d do with myself without it.’
‘All right for some,’ I say under my breath.
‘Oh, Pet, I didn’t mean...’
I wave her apology away. ‘Don’t worry, it’s not your fault.’
‘I meant it though. It’s not all that. Take this, right. I’ve have, this very second, got a slide from Mum asking what I want for dinner. It’s the third one today. I’m tempted to say “peace and quiet”, but she’ll only cry again.’ Kiara stands up. ‘Anyway, I’d better go. Thanks, Petri. I needed this. I missed you.’
‘Me too,’ I say, and I stand to give her a hug. ‘Don’t leave it so long, OK? I’m always here for you,’ I say into her thick, apple-smelling hair.
She smiles and waves goodbye, calling up the stairs to thank Zizi as she lets herself out.
‘Always here,’ I say, to the empty room. ‘Because I sure as hell don’t have anywhere else to be.’
7
‘ETHAN,’ I SAY, to the school secretary a week later. ‘I know he was here at City High at the beginning of the year and he lent me something I want to give back.’
I’ve not been able to stop thinking about Ethan since I got the ban. Everyone in school looks at me with pity. Or doesn’t even bother looking at me at all. It’s like if you’re not on Glaze, you don’t exist. That’s why I have to find him. The only other teenager I know who’s not on. Someone who can tell me that I’m real.
‘Hmm.’ Mrs Sanderson chews on the inside of her cheek as her eyes gloss over. I hit her desk with my fist without even meaning to. Even the school’s octogenarian secretary is hooked up and the rage is enough to make me want to cry. Cry or
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