Saven Deception by Siobhan Davis

head up, I snap the picture
quickly before I have too much time to overanalyze it. It’s the most natural of
the bunch, and I decide that it’ll have to do.
    I change into jeans and a white tee.
Sitting back down on the bed, I try to structure my thoughts. I reread Logan’s
original mail and try to follow his lead. I purposely choose to ignore the
subject of our status divide. He made his point clearly, and as far as I’m
concerned that’s shelved. For now.
     
    From: 
SOwen
    To:
LChandler
     
    Hi
Logan,
     
    Picture
enclosed. However, I wouldn’t get smug, I can’t promise to yield so easily to
any future demands.
     
    I’m
seventeen, and I work on the assembly line in the Medi-Tech factory in New
York, making parts for medical devices. I love sunsets and sunrises, my own
company, books, cappuccino, and the sea (or at least I imagine I’d love it. I’ve
never been close enough to know.) My favorite color is pink, though I’m not a
real girly-girl. I’ve a closet tarot card obsession which I’m trusting you will
take to your grave.
     
    Considering
I have borderline (undiagnosed) claustrophobia, I’m not enthused about the
confinement here, but I can’t wait to get to Thalassic City and I’m super
excited for the next six months.
     
    What
about you? Oh, and who’s Will Smith?
     
    Best,
Sadie.
     
    I spend the best part of two hours writing and re-writing
it, and I’m still not entirely satisfied. However, I remind myself of the
promise I made at the outset.
    I choose to be me.
    So, though I worry that it’s a bit geeky,
and maybe I come across as trying too hard, I have to stay true to myself.
Bravely, I hit the send button and prep myself for the next stage of this
self-induced anxiety trip.
    ***
    Neve pops her head into the library a couple of hours later
to ask if I want to have dinner with her. My stomach grumbles at that exact
moment and we both laugh.
    “And there’s your answer!” I joke.
    Walking into the kitchen, I nearly do an about-face.
Jenna is standing in line at the counter, laughing hilariously at something The
Hulk has said. How is it that I’ve met this creepy guy twice in one day? Potent
unease slithers through me. Neve and I join the line at the end, and I try to
telepathically communicate a silent message to Jenna.
    Considering I’ve never demonstrated an
ounce of telepathic ability before, the chance of success is slim to zero. When
that clearly fails, I try sending dagger looks at the back of her head, hoping
she might pick up on the hostile vibes swarming around her. But that tactic is
a miserable failure, too.
    “You’re going to draw blood,” Neve says.
    “What?” I stare at her in confusion.
    “Your lip.” She gestures toward my mouth.
“If you keep biting, you’ll rip the skin.”
    “Oh.” I hadn’t realized I was gnawing on
it. It’s a bad habit I unconsciously adopt anytime I feel anxious.
    “What’s wrong? Did you and Jenna have a
fight?”
    She’s way too perceptive. “Nope. I don’t
have an issue with her. Do you know that guy she’s talking to?”
    “No.” She doesn’t even look in his
direction. She pins me with a bizarre look. “What’s the problem exactly?”
    “It’s hard to explain. I ran into him at
the gym earlier, and he gave me the creeps. I don’t think he’s a good guy.”
    She stares at me as if I’ve confessed to
seeing ghosts or admitted to an alien encounter. I’m struggling to contemplate
the look, and the reason for it, when she bends down and whispers, “I agree.
You should stay away from him.”
    “Don’t worry, I intend to. And I’m damn
well going to ensure that Jen does the same.”
    As I survey her body language, I’m
wondering how on earth I’m going to achieve that. Jenna is curled against him
and it’s borderline obscene. As I watch, he runs his hand seductively up and
down her arm, and I practically hurl on the spot.
    A tall figure stalks forward, and Odie
winds his arm possessively around Jenna’s