Matched

“No,” Xander said, his jaw set. “Don’t tel them. They’l cite me for losing it. Don’t say anything. I’l find it.” Carrying our own tablets is an important step toward our own independence; losing them is the same as admitting we aren’t ready for the responsibility. Our parents carry our tablets for us until we are old enough to take them over, one by one. First the blue, when we are ten. Then, when we turn thirteen, the green one. The one that calms us if we need calming.

And when we’re sixteen, the red one, the one we can only take when a high-level Official tel s us to do so.

At first, I tried to help Xander, but the chlorine always hurt my eyes. I dove and dove and then, when my eyes burned so much I could barely see, I climbed back onto the cement next to the pool and tried to look beneath the sun-bright surface of the water.

None of us ever wears a watch when we are smal ; time is kept for us. But I stil knew. I knew that he had been under the water much longer than he should. I had measured it out in heartbeats and in the slap of the waves against the side of the pool as one person, then another, then another, dove in.

Did he drown? For a moment, I was blinded by sunlight slanting off the water, white, and paralyzed by my fear, which felt white, too. But then I stood up and drew a deep breath into my lungs to scream to the world Xander is under the water, save him, save him! Before my scream was born, a voice I did not know asked, “Is he drowning?”

“I can’t tel ,” I said, tearing my eyes away from the water. A boy stood next to me; tanned skin, dark hair. A new boy. That was al I had time to notice before he vanished, slipping under the surface in one quick motion.

A pause, a few more slaps of the waves against the cement, and Xander’s head popped up above the water. He grinned triumphantly at me, holding the waterproof case. “Got it,” he said.

“Xander,” I said, relieved. “Are you al right?”

“Of course,” he said, the confident light back in his eyes. “Why would you think I wouldn’t be?”

“You were under so long that I thought you were drowning,” I admitted. “And so did that boy—” Suddenly I panicked. Where did the other boy go?

He had not come up for air.

“What boy?” Xander asked, puzzled.

“He went searching for you.” And then I saw him, below the blue, a shadow under the water. “He’s right there. Is he drowning?”

Just then the boy broke the surface of the water, coughing, his hair glistening. A red scrape, almost healed but stil noticeable, ran along his cheek. I did my best not to stare. Not just because injuries are uncommon in a place where we are al so healthy and safe, but because he was unknown to me. A stranger.

It took the boy a few moments to catch his breath again. When he did, he looked at me but spoke to Xander, saying, “You didn’t drown.”

“No,” agreed Xander. “You almost did, though.”

“I know,” the boy said. “I meant to save you.” He corrected himself. “I mean, to help you.”

“Don’t you know how to swim?” I asked him.

“I thought I did,” the boy said, which made both Xander and me laugh. The boy looked into my eyes and smiled. The smile seemed to surprise him; it surprised me, too, the warmth of it.

The boy looked back at Xander. “She looked worried when you didn’t come back up.”

“I’m not worried anymore,” I said, relieved that everyone was safe. “Are you visiting someone?” I asked the boy, hoping he was staying for a long visit. I already liked him because he had wanted to help Xander.

“No,” said the boy, and though he stil smiled, his voice sounded quiet and stil like the water had become around us. He looked right at me. “I belong here.”

Now, my eyes fixed on the crowd in front of me, I feel that same feeling of relief and release as I see a familiar face, someone who, until now, I had been desperately worried about. Someone I must have thought had drowned or slipped or been pul ed under and might never be seen again.

Ky Markham is here and he looks right at me.

Without thinking, I take a step toward him. That’s when I feel something burst beneath my foot. The lost tablet container has broken open, and everything it is supposed to protect has spil ed out on the floor and been crushed under my foot. Bluegreenred.

I stop in my tracks but the movement has been noted. Officials swarm toward me and the people near me draw breath and cal out, “Over here!

It’s broken!”

I have to turn away when an Official takes my elbow and asks me what happened. When I look back at where Ky stood, he has disappeared. Just like he did that day into the pool. Just like his face did earlier on the port at my house.

CHAPTER 6

There was a new boy at the pool today,” I told my parents that long-ago night, after the incident while Xander and I were swimming. I was careful to leave out any mention of Xander losing his tablet container. I didn’t want him to get in trouble. The omission felt like the tablet itself stuck in my throat. Every time I swal owed, I felt it catch there, threatening to choke me.

But stil , I didn’t tel .