I'm sitting in the classroom, pondering life and existence.

Ten minutes ago when I entered the classroom the message board read this:

'55 and '56. Please complete the math work page on your desk, and then use the rest of today's class to finish The House of the Scorpion. You must have the book finished by tomorrow. The bell will dismiss you.

I quickly finished the page of easy two step algebra problems, and then read the two chapters I had left in the book.

Now my mind is everywhere. Particularly my family.

Ty, and how he always wanted a piggyback ride. My parents, their unconditional love for the whole family, and willingness to talk. Wait. Talk. That conversation I overheard my parents having the night after I took the test the first time.

"David, what will we do if she's drawn?! I couldn't bear to go through it again!" My mother said, freaking out.

"Shhh Penelope. It's okay." My father calmed her, as always. She was the dramatic one, him the calm, steady one that held us together.

"No! Honey, it's not okay! I worked with her; I told her how she could fail the examination! I cannot do this again!" My mother's voice escalated. But what did she mean by saying 'again'?

"Penelope," my dad murmured softly, as he always did when calming my mother. It almost always worked. "Maybe this is what she wants." Yes Dad. I did want it.

"No! That's not possible! How could she want it?" My mother continued to wail. "She would become government property! How could anyone want that?!" I don't know mom, but I did.

"Dear, if she doesn't want it, I'm sure she'll talk someone into volunteering for her. But if she does go, she'll do well doing whatever the GovChildren do. She's a tough cookie, Amber is. Don't stress it too much," my father reasoned.

"But David, how can you say this? How can be so calm, when we might be losing another child?" What did she mean? I am their firstborn.

"I would be sad to see Amber go, Penelope. Just like I was sad when-"

That's when the air conditioning cut in. If only I had heard what my father said next.

And then there was the story of how my mother got the dress I wore to the draw, the story she never got a chance to tell me.

"Oh Amber! You look gorgeous!" My mother said as she entered my room.

"I love this dress so much!" I exclaimed. "Where did you get it?" I asked, knowing that it couldn't have been cheap.

"It's a special dress that I've had for a long time. Maybe one day I'll tell you the story," Mom said.

If only she had told me the story then. I wish I knew.

I look up around the classroom and see that Tristan, done the work, is also starting into space. I grab one of the extra sheets of paper that was given to show our work and write a note.

I crumple the paper into a ball and lob it, landing it perfectly on his desk. Tasha and I had perfected this back in Winnipeg, and could land notes on each other's desks even with several desks between us.

Tristan looks up, startled, when the paper ball hits his desk.

But he unfolds it and writes back. He crumpled the paper and throws it back, landing it on my desk.

He wrote.

I write.

Tristan writes back, throws, and the paper ball bounces way off my desk.

Smooth, I mouth, smiling. Tristan blushes, and I grab the paper.

He wrote.

I write, and send the paper back to Tristan.

I unfold the paper, hoping to find out when class ends.

No luck.

I chuck the ball of paper at him.

Tristan snickers when he opens the paper. His smile grows as he writes a response.

I burst out laughing. A few people give me strange looks, and Zach shushes me, but I pay no attention to nerd boy. I'm focused on a good rebuttal.

Slowly, carefully and deliberately, I write my response. I look to Tristan, and he has that Uh-Oh look on his face.

Is what I end up writing.

Tristan painstakingly unfolds the paper, and gets a look of disgust on his face when he reads it.

Seconds later, the paper is back on my desk.

Tristan stares at the paper for a while before thinking of a response.

I can do that.

Tristan stares at the paper for a while. Then the bell goes. Tristan and I are the first ones standing.

"Problem solved," he says with a grin.

We walk out of the classroom together.

"I have a question." I say.

"Yeah?"

"Is there like a library or something here?"

"Yeah," he says. "Want me to show you?"

"That'd be great. We don't have anymore classes today, do we?" I ask.

"Not until after lunch."

"K."

"Let's go. It's this way," Tristan says, leading me down a new hallway.

We go through a set of doors, and enter the library.

"Wow," I say. This is unlike any library I've ever been to. There's bookshelf of books, a bunch of computers, presumably for our use, and a large book, on a pedestal type thing.

I look around, and then look to Tristan. "Is there a book with all the names that have been drawn?" I ask him.

"Right on the pedestal," he directs me. "Anything you looking for in particular?"

"Do you promise not to tell anyone?" I ask, deciding that Tristan is trustworthy.

"Of course."

"Okay, so the night after I did the ADCCG test the first time, I overheard my parents having a conversation that really confused me. They were talking about how they might lose me. Then my mom said she couldn't bear to go through it again. And I don't know what she means by again, because as far as I know, I'm their firstborn. But I wanted to see if there was someone else with my last name drawn from Manitoba."

Tristan nods. "I'll help."

"Thanks."

We head over to the pedestal, and I open the books to the last page and see my name among the other twelve girls. One page back, and I see the boys names. I keep on flipping back until I see a name that stands out.

"That must be my brother!" I exclaim.

"Yeah. But you were born in 2041, right? So you were four when he was drawn. That doesn't make sense. You would at least have some memory of him." Tristan points out.

"If he was drawn at age fourteen in 2045, how old is he now?" I ask Tristan.

"25."

"Do you have any idea where we could find him?" I ask.

"I don't know. I guess we'll just have to ask around."

"But we can't be obvious about it. We don't want people getting suspicious."

"Yeah," he agrees.

I stare at the page longer.

"Ready to go?" Tristan asks me.

"Yeah."

"Let's go."

We head back. I am silent, my head overflowing with information.

"You okay Amber?" Asks Tristan. "You look really pale."

"I think I just need to sit down for a minute," I respond.

Tristan leads me to a couch. I sit down, and he sits down beside me. Tentatively, he puts an arm around me. I don't fight it, and lean in a little bit. Tess is wrong. I don't like Daniel. Now I'm sure of it.

Words swirl around my head. Matlock, Greyson. Greyson Matlock. Manitoba. 2045. Matlock, Greyson. Greyson Matlock. Manitoba. 2045. Matlock, Greyson. Greyson Matlock. Manitoba. 2045. Matlock, Greyson. Greyson Matlock. Manitoba. 2045.

---

"Amber, Amber. Wake up."

"What?" I open my eyes to see Tristan's smiling face.

"Hey sleeping beauty."

I blush. "Hey."

"It's lunchtime," Tristan tells me.

"How long was I asleep for?" I ask.

"About an hour," he tells me.

He sat like that, with my leaning on him, for an hour? Ohmygosh! That's

so nice! I'm falling for him. Falling hard.

We get up and walk into the cafeteria. I feel like I'm walking on air. He must like me too!

---