Taken (Erin Bowman)

between her and my brother. “She was mocking you, Blaine. She doesn’t even care about the Heist.”
    Blaine frowns. “I don’t give a crap whether she cares about me or not. I’d rather know why my kid brother is beating up a girl half his size. You okay?” he asks, turning to Chalice.
    This is why everyone likes Blaine better than me. This is why they’ll all miss him but barely notice when I’m gone. He’s calmer and has a better heart, looks at the whole of things. But me, I’m reckless, always reacting to some feeling in my chest.
    I sit in the dirt and wipe the blood from my teeth as Kale runs to hide between Sasha’s legs. Sasha’s older than Blaine but doesn’t look it. I think she’s nineteen or twenty now, only it’s hard to tell because she’s so damn pretty. When Blaine had first been slated to her, I’d been jealous. Months later she was pregnant and that jealousy instantly turned to relief. That was when I started being careful with my own slatings, avoiding them when possible. I never want to be a father. Ever.
    Sasha helps Chalice hobble off. I watch as they go, wondering how Blaine can stand it: how Kale lives with Sasha while Sasha continues with the slatings. Blaine’s left floating on the outskirts of the picture as if he doesn’t matter, which is a pretty standard treatment. Boys are important to an extent, but sooner or later we’re all gone, so no one bothers getting attached. Children get the father’s last name, but that’s about it. They live with their mothers; and the boys, well, the boys just drift.
    “Where are they going?” I ask.
    Blaine offers a hand and pulls me to my feet. “To the Clinic. You need to go, too?”
    “Nah, I’ll survive.”
    “Good. You deserve whatever pain follows.” He smirks and punches me in the shoulder. It hurts more than it should. And then his face changes, grows stern and parental.
    “You can’t do stuff like that, Gray,” he scolds. He still looks disappointed, which is worse than his being angry. “You’re always lashing out before you even attempt to understand others. Chalice has dealt with a lot of pain and suffering. Of course she hates the Heist. And is bitter. And says rude things. She’s lost three half brothers in the past two and a half years. That’s not an easy burden to carry.”
    I roll my eyes. “That doesn’t give her the right to mock the losses of others.”
    Blaine sighs and gives me a look. A big brother look. An I know best look. Then he stoops to retrieve the jacket I bought for him. When he straightens up, he looks tired. I don’t want to argue with him. Not today. Not on our last day.
    “That jacket’s for you.” I nod to the dirty lump in his arms. “Happy birthday.” For a second he looks elated and then somewhat terrified, but he shakes the look of fear from his face and pulls on the jacket.
    “Thanks, Gray.” His smile is back. The friendly, brotherly one.
    “You’re welcome.”
    It’s all we say. There are a lot of other things that could fill the silence, but they’d all be meaningless. We both know what’s coming and nothing will change it, least of all words.
    We walk the rest of the way home together, Blaine wearing his jacket even though the summer sun is quickly warming the land.
    “I’m going to miss you,” I say, squinting in the light.
    “Gray, don’t even start with me.” His tone is more pained than angry, as if discussing his fate for the hundredth time this week might finally break him.
    “Maybe we can run? Hide? We could leave tonight and live in the woods.”
    “And then what? We can only go as far as the Wall, and the Heist is unavoidable no matter where I am.”
    “I know. But maybe if we go over the Wall. Maybe there’s more.”
    Blaine shakes his head sternly. “There is no more.”
    “You don’t know that.”
    “Every person who climbs over the Wall winds up back on this side, dead. If there’s anything more , we’d see it for two seconds before meeting our own end.”
    “If the two of us go together, it could be different. Like when we hunt. We’re better together, Blaine.” I’m practically begging at this point. This can’t be it. Life can’t really be so short.
    Blaine pushes his hair out of his eyes and buttons the jacket high about his neck. “No boy makes it past eighteen, Gray. The Heist is going to happen whether we want it to or not. Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”
    We both know he’s right and we enter