Read Online Material Girls by Elaine Dimopoulos - Free Book Online

pink. Unblinking, the seventh-graders stared at the small screens until . . .
    A collective gasp, as the sevens received their industries.
    A second, quieter gasp for the organizations. Ivy looked for Constantine, but a tall girl in front of him was blocking his face from view.
    Finally, the seventh-graders’ roles flashed on the screens.
    Whoops of joy, wails of disappointment, tears, screams of “I
got
it!” filled the front of the arena. The seventh-graders battered into one another in their attempts to hug their friends and jump off chairs to run to their parents. Behind them, the sixth-graders watched the mayhem jealously. Celebrations in the bleachers exploded like fireworks as good news was passed upward.
    But where was Constantine? Ivy searched the swarming mob for her brother. At last she saw him. Standing by the rail in front of the stage. Shaking his Unum, pressing its buttons.
    It was neither humming nor flashing. Even from the stage, she could see that its screen was black.
    Constantine looked up at her and began to cry silently.

    While George stayed in the car with Constantine, Ivy and her mother ran into the house to pop the balloons that filled the kitchen. From the refrigerator, which was stuffed with celebratory dishes covered in foil, Christina withdrew a cake with
Congratulations Constantine!
scrawled on its surface in orange icing. She held it out to Ivy.
    â€œTrash?” she asked. “It’s a crushed walnut cake.”
    â€œYou made it, right?” Ivy asked, sticking a fork into a yellow balloon. “Just scrape off the writing.”
    â€œAfter you—I never thought he would be an Adequate. Never,” her mother mumbled, extracting a butter knife from a kitchen drawer. “The poor thing. It’s going to be fine, of course. Your father and I were Adequates and we did just fine.”
    Ivy nodded.
    â€œDon’t talk about work, Evangeline,” Christina said, as she shaved off the top layer of frosting. “Not until he’s in bed tonight.”
    â€œOf course not. I’m not an idiot.” She took off her orbital hat and deposited it on the kitchen countertop. The green granite was a new addition, she noticed. Its quartz chips sparkled under the blinking lights.
    By the time he entered the house, Constantine had stopped crying. He wanted to go straight to his room, but George insisted that he sit at the kitchen table with the family. As he pulled out his chair, Ivy quickly picked up one of the overlooked balloon skins at his feet and balled it in her fist.
    Sitting next to Constantine, she listened as her parents talked about the disappointment they’d felt when they didn’t get tapped by one of the creative industries. Her mother described not wanting to get out of bed for a week. “But even though it seems as if the world has ended, it hasn’t,” Christina said, shaking her head firmly. “You can still carve out a respectable life. Look at me. Everything worked out. I fell in love and had two beautiful children.”
    â€œYou’re a mother,” Constantine said after a pause. “It’s different for girls. There’s not as much . . . shame. Especially if you turn one of your kids into
Ivy Wilde
.”
    Ivy wondered if she should say something in the silence that followed, but her mother spoke first. “Our fine president is an Adequate. And he is a man.”
    â€œRight, like I want to be president. Fun. Bills and budgets. I hate math.” He groaned and rolled his head back. “Can I go now?”
    â€œNo.” Their father took over. He admitted to Constantine that the film industry’s rejection still stung. This had always been obvious to Ivy; every time her family had gone to the movies, her father emerged looking a little dazed and sad. But he described how, slowly, chemical research became the thing he knew he was meant to do. Ivy remembered yawning at these speeches