Free Running Dry by Jody Wenner

me two hard pats on the back.
    The Resistance.  I like the sound of it.
     
     
    Chapter 11
    Bekka
    The next day I wish I felt better, could accept the situation I've been dealt, but I can't and won't.  In fact, I think I feel worse.  I keep closing my eyes and opening them again, hoping I'm just having a bad dream.  Turns out the nightmare is my real life and now I've got to get up and out of bed and face it because I have an appointment to meet with the Dean.
    Everyone meets with the Dean to go over their new position and get further instruction.  I had looked forward to this day but now I'm anxious and worried because instead of an orientation, I need to turn my appointment into a mission to get the Dean to change his mind somehow.  All I can do is rehearse my speech and hope that my argument is strong enough for him to see my reasoning.  I'm hoping maybe I won't have to do that though, that maybe he'll take one look at his paperwork and laugh at what a stupid mistake they made. 
    As I wait in line in front of the Dean's office, I can't stop tapping my feet.  Everyone else around me sounds relatively happy about their assignment, at least from what I've gathered.  I haven't actually talked to anybody.  Instead I have my hoodie pulled up over my head and my eyes on the ground, as a sign for everyone to leave me alone.  My annoyance for life grows as I hear my peers chatting around me.  They make this sound like a game of some sort.  “Oh, I’m gonna be in Collection...hahaha.”  I've never been a particularly angry person, like Zane, but I think I'm starting to understand his disposition better.  Today, even the fake flowers in the large pot next to the Dean's office are bugging the crap out of me.   
    When it's finally my turn, I go into the office and the secretary closes the door then goes to a chair on the far end of the room and sits down.
    "Please sit, Ms. Tyson," Dean Ashbury says.  I lower my hood and smooth my ponytail.  I examine the Dean as he types something into his computer.  He is a broad shouldered man wearing a garish plaid suit.  His hair is thin and his meager attempt at covering his balding forehead, by combing over the scant remains of greasy strands from one side of his hairline to the other, looks worse than the suit he's wearing.
    His desk is almost as large as the whole room and is piled high with scattered papers.  This is the man in charge of my fate, I think.  I feel claustrophobic suddenly.
    "So," he says, "you have been assigned to our prestigious Espionage Department."  He doesn't look up from the screen and says the word “espionage” like he is sophisticated, which he is not.
    I've been practicing my speech all morning, but now I panic and just blurt out, "Yes, but it's a mistake.”  I immediately know, as the words tumble from my mouth, that this is the wrong approach to take with Dean Ashbury.
    He looks past the screen finally and stares at me like I've just committed a crime, and for all I know, I have.  "A mistake?  I don't think so."  He smiles and there is a large gap between his two front teeth. 
    Now is my chance.  I inhale a large gulp of air and start to say, "I mean, it's just that...you see..."
    He interrupts,  "Are you unhappy with your assignment?"  His tone switches from smug to annoyed.
    I think.  "Well, yes."  Come on, Bekka!  What is wrong with me?  I’m screwing up my one chance at this.
    "Would you care to elaborate?  And, please make it quick.  I have several other students to get to today."
    "Dean Ashbury....I'm a runner!  I've been training since I was seven years old.  It was my first pick.  I've studied and studied and it's all I've ever wanted to be, sir."  It all comes out in one long stream and it sounds like I am seven years old again and demanding a prize from my parents, but I have no control over the situation.  I'm out of my head with desperation.
    "Why is that?"
    "Because!"  I pause.  Because why?  Think