Compete by Norilana Books Read Free Book Online Page A

like an eel and pats my shoulder awkwardly.
    “I’ll see you around, Gee Two and Four,” he mumbles.
    “Larks stick together!” Gracie and I speak in unison, in a feeble attempt at cheer. I feel an immediate pang of guilt. Yes, I am abandoning them .
    “Well, I’m heading to Cadet Deck One,” Gracie says.
    “Okay, I’m sure there’s a way to call or communicate from ship to ship,” I say. “As soon as we figure it out, we call! And you call too, Gee Three! Promise!”
    “Yeah, I promise.”
    And then I squeeze the life out of Gracie, as we both hug each other, dropping our bags down to the floor.
    “You’re going to be an awesome Fleet Cadet, Gracie!” I whisper in her ear, as I smoothe down her hair around her ears. “You are strong and brave and tough—”
    “Shut up!” she says fiercely, because she is still mad at me, but I can see her eyes are glistening wet.
    I stand and watch as Gordie and Gracie walk down a corridor together, carrying their bags, and disappear from view, swallowed by the great ark-ship around us— their ship, officially.
    Logan and I look at each other.
    “I am supposed to go to Shuttle Bay Three,” I say.
    “Shuttle Bay Four, here.” He stands gazing at me, not moving, stilled with intensity.
    I look up into his hazel eyes. They are warm once again, receptive. “You call me as soon as you figure things out, okay?”
    He does not reply. Instead he leans in, and then takes me into a deep embrace, while his lips come down on mine, hard and sweet.
    There are no surveillance cameras here, or at least none that matter.
    I kiss him back, melting and drowning in those hazel eyes, while my heart hammers inside my chest, and warm honey courses throughout my body at the powerful safe feel of him against me.
    But for some reason in that moment I think of another pair of eyes—the blue eyes finely outlined with darkness that belong to the prince of Atlantis.
     
     
    L ogan and I separate at a junction of corridors leading in different directions on this immense ark-ship. He goes one way, carrying his bags, and I go another. I turn and watch his back momentarily, his confident walk, the toned shape of his tall runner’s body, wide shoulders, the fall of his super-dark hair, a rare shade of near black, tinged with a hint of red. As though sensing my gaze, he too pauses, turns his head and nods to me with a smile, and a touch of one hand to his lips in an air kiss.
    And then I continue on my way alone.
    I walk in the general direction of Shuttle Bay Three, after stopping to consult the ship schematic on the nearest display screen in the corridor. The ship is amazing but we haven’t been really allowed to see it properly—to explore or wander about enough to learn our way—and so the schematic is the only means of getting around. After several turns along unfamiliar corridors, I emerge into the huge overwhelming tunnel space that is at least remotely familiar.
    At this point I know that all the shuttle bays look perfectly alike. No distinguishing features except a small rainbow square logo and number on the walls at the entrance—which I note, now that I know what to look for. Atlantean numerals resemble ancient Egyptian or even Sumerian etchings, and they are basically comprised of short adjacent lines—one line for “number one,” two lines for “two,” and so on, until you get to “five” which is four lines bisected by a fifth. This shuttle bay is designated with three short lines.
    The shuttles are parked in perfect rows on both sides of the platform tube, with sections of larger freight transport shuttles interspersed with smaller personal flyers—the kind that I first saw explode in the skies over Pennsylvania, in that awful sabotage incident two months ago.
    There are not many people about, compared to that first day when we arrived in the ships among the crowds of the Qualified. Except for the endless rows of stationary shuttles, the platforms and bays are mostly