Pulse

broken Tablet down the sidewalk in frustration. She looked off in the direction of the gym and wondered if she had time to run and find Faith so she could take back everything she’d said.
    A white van pulled up silently behind her, and the side door opened with a whisper, inviting her inside. Liz wiped the tears from her eyes and thought about running. She took one last look in the direction of the school and gave in to the inevitable.

Chapter 7
Business as Usual
    When Faith sat up in bed, it felt like she’d polished off two bottles of ancient wine the night before without any help from her fellow partygoers. She held her head in her hands and tried to remember what could have possibly made her feel this way. She’d only gotten wasted once in her entire life, more than a year ago, and that had been enough to convince her that partying wasn’t her thing. It had begun at a friend’s house before a rare dance put on by one of the schools she used to attend. The friend, Tess, had whipped together some sort of crazy concoction that tasted like orange juice but packed a punch big enough to level a rhino in two cups or less. Faith had guzzled down three large cups before she knew what she was doing, and all at once she’d gone buzzy in the head. An hour later she had been throwing up all over the dance floor.
    It had been a total flame out, and for that she was thankful. If she’d slowly experimented with partying, she would probably still be using whatever she could find to dull the pain she felt from one day to the next. Instead, she’d had such a bad experience that one time, she’d never gone back.
    “What happened to me last night?” she asked out loud. When she stood, Faith felt an immediate need to throw up and ran to the bathroom. A half hour later she was standing in the shower, turning up the heat every thirty seconds until the room filled with steam. The sound of a message arriving on her Tablet pinged into the soupy air, and she knew it was time to get moving. She’d pieced together what could be remembered and found herself in an angry mood. She remembered a fight with Liz, walking away with Wade, something about a car and the feel of Wade’s chest against her palms. And Drifters. She remembered Drifters.
    The Tablet pinged again—more messages—and Faith turned off the shower. Leaning down to dry her legs made her head pound, so she pulled on her old fleece robe and sat heavily on her bed.
    Her Tablet was lying next to her. She picked it up and started reading through the messages. The first one was from her mom, reminding her to visit the distribution center for their monthly ration of cheese and flour. Faith messaged her back— okay, I won’t forget —and fished a pair of socks out of her drawer. It was easier to put them on sitting down than standing up, and the shower had made her feel a little more human again. The second message was like a repeat of the first, but this time it was from her dad. They liked to double down on reminders.
    The next message was from Hawk, and it got her moving even faster.
Standing outside your door; didn’t want to wake you. How are you holding up?
    Maybe Hawk knew more than she did and could tell her what had happened the night before. She typed out a message— be right down, give me five —and finished getting ready, combing her wet hair into a ponytail and applying the most basic makeup she could get away with. She slid on the new pair of jeans Hawk had basically stolen from the Eastern State and felt better still. They fit perfectly. She could already imagine how they’d turn Wade’s head at school.
    Thinking of Wade got her thinking of Liz, and her memory began to spark on a moment standing outside the school. She couldn’t quite remember what was said, but there was a pit in her stomach that told her she’d chosen Wade over Liz, and it had not gone well. As she walked downstairs, she did something very Liz-like, messaging her while she went.
How you doing? We okay? I miss you. Let’s talk.
    She shook her head at how random and stupid it all sounded, but hit SEND anyway, then opened the front door. Hawk was sitting on the tiny front porch cross-legged, typing furiously into his Tablet.
    “We’re going to be late for sure,” Hawk said, standing up so fast it made Faith feel woozy just watching him. “Should we say we were attacked by zombies and go make something cheesy in your kitchen?”
    “I’m thinking kitchen,” Faith said,