Gated by Amy Christine Parker Read Free Book Online Page B

clothes and batteries and stuff,” I say. “But since there’s so many of us and not enough trucks for us to take to town all at once, we only go twice a month. My family’ Cami1C;But sins only been to town about once or twice a year since we moved here.”
What am I doing? SHUT UP, blabbermouth!
    “And I thought I had it bad. How do you cope with being stuck here all the time? I think I’d go out of my mind.”
    “I don’t really think about it.” I don’t add that Mandrodage Meadows has always felt the opposite of confining when compared with our future living quarters in the Silo … or that Culver Creek always feels too large and dangerous. So many Outsiders and there’s no way of knowing which ones pose the biggest threat, which ones might do one of us harm, like the person who took Karen.
    He’s walking close enough to me that we keep touching shoulders again. I can smell his cologne or shampoo—it’scitrusy and spicy at the same time. I like it. I wonder what he thinks of me. I’m liable to smell like hay and horse manure after this morning’s ride—not nearly as pleasant a combination as his is. I put a little space between us.
    I show him everything but the orchards. He doesn’t seem to care when we pass the road that leads into them without stopping. We finish up by the pond and settle into the grass to wait for his father. I’m surprised we’ve been left alone this long. A few other members of the Community are out in the garden, and there were a few others by the stables, but mostly the entire place feels quiet, almost deserted. I wonder if he’s noticed and thinks it’s strange. I’d half expected Marie to ambush us somewhere along the way. It’s not like her to stay away—not that I’m complaining. She would’ve taken over the tour and I’d have been left to tag along behind her. It’s been nice not to be part of her background for a change.
    “So, unless you’re on a supply run, you never leave …” His voice trails off.
    “Right,” I say, and chuck a rock into the water. It was really stupid of me to tell him all of that. We both watch the rock skip across the surface three times before it sinks.
    “Nice.” He grins. “But I can beat that.”
    I watch as he gathers up a handful of rocks and then chooses one to throw. It skips twice and disappears. I smile.
    “Okay, best out of three,” he says, and then, after his second throw is equally unsuccessful, “I guess you can’t get some kind of special permission to leave any other time?”
    “Special permission for what?” I ask, and he looks shy for the first time since he’s gotten here.
    “I don’t know, maybe to hang out … with me?” He smiles and my mouth drops open. I’ve messed up. I’ve been too nice and gotten myself into trouble once again.
    “I can’t,” I say quickly, and take a step away from him.
    “I sort of figured, but it didn’t hurt to ask.” His lips curl slightly into a half smile. He chucks the last rock. This one doesn’t even skip once. It just sinks.
    He doesn’t look at me right away and I feel awkward and squirmy. For some reason I feel the need to explain myself. It bothers me that he looks a little hurt by my answer, but there’s no way to do this without giving away too much or completely insulting him in the process.
Gee, I think you’re really, really cute and all, but I can’t go because you’re an Outsider C ancesand probably have the potential for serious evil and I’m chosen and pure and about to enter a shelter that’ll keep me safe while the world implodes and you die. No hard feelings?
    “Kind of seems like you’re trapped here, Lyla. Are you?” Cody tilts his head and studies me.
    “No, I like it here,” I say automatically.
    I’m not supposed to feel trapped here, but now, in this moment—and if I’m honest, more and more all the time—I do, I can’t help myself. I
am
trapped. For good reason, sure, but trapped all the same. But it isn’t like