Override (Glitch)

emotion, that the bad always came along with the good.
    Adrien didn’t respond. He seemed preoccupied, and after a few moments of silence, he looked up. “Do you think the oracle knew what was going to happen?”
    “What do you mean?” I asked, surprised by the question.
    “When he told the king what his son was going to do when he grew up. Do you think the oracle knew that it was his words that would set it all in motion?”
    “I don’t know,” I said slowly.
    “None of it would have happened if the stupid oracle had kept his mouth shut. The baby wouldn’t have been put out on the rocks and he would have grown up knowing who his dad and mom were, and they’d all still be alive and sane.”
    When he looked back up at me, I could see tears rimming his eyes.
    “Adrien, what’s going on?” I tried to take his hand, but he pulled away.
    “I gotta go.” He stood up abruptly.
    “Adrien, wait,” I stood up too. “Are you okay?”
    “I’m fine,” he said. He turned his head away. He knew I could read him better than anyone else, and he didn’t want me to see his face.
    “I’m just tired. I’m gonna go get some sleep.” He started toward the door.
    “Wait,” I said, pleading. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
    He paused but didn’t turn around. “I don’t think I should,” he finally said, his voice rough. “Look at what happened in the play. Telling people about things—” His back slumped. “It can only cause more problems. It can get people killed.”
    “Adrien, it’s me . I’m not just people. I’m your…” I reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, trying to figure out how to say what I meant. “I love you.”
    He finally turned toward me, but his eyes were still trained on the ground. “I love you too,” he said. “That’s why I can’t talk to you about this.”
    He was out of the room before I could say anything back. I stomped on the ground in frustration. I wanted to run after him and demand he tell me what was wrong, but he obviously didn’t want to. Maybe it wouldn’t be right to push him.
    I thought about the shadows under his eyes, the way his ribs poked out through his shirt sometimes. Something had been weighing on him for a while now. I realized now it wasn’t only guilt I saw in his eyes sometimes. It was fear.
    Which brought up the most worrisome question of all. What did Adrien see in his visions that made him so afraid?

Chapter 9
    “I’M SO EXCITED we’re going to be roommates,” Ginni said, almost bouncing where she stood. It was like the girl had invisible springs attached to the balls of her feet. She laced her arm through mine as I looked blearily at the clock on the wall. She and Xona had let me sleep in while they went to morning classes but had come to get me for lunch. I felt like I could sleep another twelve hours. But my stomach grumbled, and I was hungry enough that I could swallow down a whole bowlful of protein goop, maybe even two.
    “And I know we’re going to be best friends, just like in the books I love to read. Come on, we’re already late for lunch!”
    Xona looked down at Ginni and let out a heavy sigh. “Wish we could all have our own rooms,” she said under her breath.
    As we neared the Caf, I heard the noise of voices filtering out into the hall. A loud bark of laughter made me blink in surprise. A place where people could laugh and talk without having to hide emotion. It was so foreign. And loud.
    We turned in the next doorway and I looked down at my tight-fitting suit self-consciously. I’d gone through the wash-down chamber and changed into a fresh suit last night before bed, so at least I was clean.
    Xona strode confidently into the room, scanning the crowd methodically. A quick headcount showed about thirty people already inside. I recognized Rand, City, and Juan sitting at the center table and the four ex-Regs sitting together in the back. Several of the other tables were crowded with adults wearing the gray Rez fighter uniform. The room was bigger than the Med Center, but all the tables and chairs were crammed tightly together to accommodate so many people at once. A long counter with kitchen implements ran along the far wall and, beside it, a cabinet with heat lamps and several steaming trays of food.
    I looked back at the main table and felt my eyes widen when I realized who the girl sitting between City and Juan was. Molla. Her red hair was shorter and her face pudgier, but it was her.
    “Oh look,” City said.