Free Uglies 2 - Pretties by Scott Westerfeld Page B

her.
    "You okay?" His hand came to rest on her shoulder. "Didn't hit your head in that fall, did you?"
    "No. Just cleared it up. I found this." She handed the sheet of paper to Zane, who smoothed it out and held it up to the light streaming through the door. It was covered with an almost unreadable scrawl.
    Tally looked down again at the pills in her hand. Tiny and white, they looked like a pair of purgers. But Tally was pretty sure they would do more than burn calories. She remembered something…
    Zane slowly lowered the sheet of paper, his eyes wide. "It's a letter, and it's addressed to you."

    "A letter? Who from?"
    "You, Tally." His voice echoed softly from the metal walls of the shack. "It's from you."

NOTE TO SELF
    Dear Tally,
    You're me.
    Or I guess another way to say it is, I'm you— Tally Youngblood. Same person. But if you're reading this letter, then we're also two different people. At least, that's what us New Smokies are guessing has happened by now. You've been changed. That's why I'm writing to you.
    I wonder if you remember writing these words. (Actually, I'm telling Shay to write them.
    She did handwriting in school.) Do they seem like a diary entry from back when you were a littlie, or like someone else's diary altogether?
    If you can't remember writing this letter at all, then we're both in big trouble. Especially me. Because not being remembered by myself would mean that the me who wrote this letter has been erased somehow. Ouch. And maybe that means I'm dead, sort of. So please try to remember, at least.
    Tally paused and traced the scrawled words with one finger, trying to remember dictating them.
    Shay liked to demonstrate how they could make letters with a stylus, one of the tricks she'd learned in preparation for their trip to the Smoke. She had left a note for Tally telling how to follow her there. But was this really Shay's handwriting?
    More important, were the words true? Tally really couldn't remember. She took a breath and kept on reading…
    But, anyway, here's what I'm trying to tell you: They did something to your brain— our brain—and that's why this letter may seem kind of weird to you.
    We (that's "we" as in us out in the New Smoke, not "we" as in you and me) don't know exactly how it works, but we're pretty sure that something happens to everyone who has the operation. When they make you pretty they also add these lesions (tiny scars, sort of) to your brain. It makes you different, and not in a good way. Look in the mirror, Tally. If you're pretty, you've got them.
    Tally heard a sharp intake of breath next to her ear. She turned to find Zane reading over her shoulder. "Looks like you may be right about us pretties," she said. He nodded slowly. "Yeah. Great."
    He pointed at the next paragraph. "But how about that?" She dropped her eyes to the page again.
    The good news is, there's a cure. That's why David came and got you, to give you the pills that will fix your brain. (I really hope you remember David.) He's a good guy, even if he had to kidnap you to get you here. Trust him. It might be scary to be out here, away from the city, wherever the New Smokies are hiding you, but the people who gave you the lesions will be looking, and you have to be kept safe until you're cured.

    Tally stopped reading. "Kidnapped me?"
    "Looks like there's been a change of plan since you wrote this," Zane said.
    Tally felt funny for a moment, the image of David now stronger in her head. "If I wrote this. And if it's true. Anyway, Croy came to see me, not…David." As she said his name, memories surged through Tally: David's hands roughened from years of work, his jacket made from sewn-together skins, the white scar that went through his eyebrow. A feeling like panic began to well up in her. "What happened to David, Zane? Why didn't he come?"
    He shook his head. "I don't know. Were you and he … ?"
    Tally looked down at the letter again. It blurred before her, and a single teardrop fell onto the paper.