Free Strangelets by Michelle Gagnon Page B

was drilled in from day one. Soldiers swore to abide by a rigid code of conduct. Even such minor offensives as neglecting to give up a bus seat to an elderly person could result in punishment. Not that any of these kids were her fellow countrymen.
Far from it
, she thought with a snort. Theywere all soft, whining about missing a single meal. If anything happened, she was clearly the best equipped to handle it.
    She’d be shed of them all by tomorrow anyway. Once they got within cell phone range, the others could contact their families. Shortly thereafter they’d be tucked away in their respective embassies, assisted with transportation home. But who could she call? If she contacted Hazim and tried to explain what had happened, he’d probably think she’d lost her mind, or worse, changed it. This entire situation had made joining him all but impossible; neither of them could afford a plane ticket to Egypt. And her parents would just try and compel her to return home. Plus Anat could imagine the skepticism with which the Israeli government would view her circumstances. They’d figure her for a deserter, maybe even throw her in prison. And then she’d have no hope of running away with Hazim.
    Wrapped up in her thoughts, Anat tripped on a tree root and went flying. She landed hard on the can of peas clutched against her chest and grunted as the wind was knocked out of her.
    “All right?” Nico asked.
    “Fine,” Anat said, embarrassed. She scrambled to her feet, dusting off with her free hand. She’d have a nasty bruise on her belly tomorrow, and her toes throbbed where she’d stubbed them. Anat forced herself to focus solely on the trail, pushing all other thoughts from her mind. Declan was helping Sophie along, one arm braced around her back. Watching them brought another pang.
    “What’s wrong?” Nico asked.
    “Nothing,” she muttered. “Just thinking about something.”
    “Something, or someone?”
    She looked up at him. Nico was giving her a look sherecognized, the same one she’d been getting from men ever since she turned fifteen and developed breasts. “Yes,” she said. “I was thinking of my fiancé.”
    “You’re engaged?” he asked, sounding surprised. “To whom?”
    “A Palestinian named Hazim.” Saying his name out loud caused tears to well up in her eyes. Hastily, she wiped them away.
    “Huh,” Nico said. “Did he give you that ring you always touch?”
    Anat closed her hand into a fist self-consciously; she hadn’t realized she’d been doing that, and was shaken by the fact that he’d noticed. “Yes.” She hesitated, then added, “I gave him one, too.” She’d chosen the ring carefully, a simple interwoven band of gold and silver. It had reminded her of them, two very different people from opposing worlds, now wound together until you couldn’t tell where one ended and the next began.
    “But you’re only eighteen, right?” Nico asked.
    “So?”
    “That seems young to be getting married.”
    “My mother was married at sixteen,” Anat retorted. “Besides, we’re in love.”
    “People usually don’t get married otherwise,” Nico said drily. “So why wasn’t he with you?”
    Anat was reluctant to tell him too much; after all, she barely knew him. But she finally admitted, “We were running away together. My family would never have let me marry him. And I was about to be assigned to active military duty.”
    Nico grunted.
    “What?” she demanded.
    “You must really love him,” he said, a trace of wistfulness in his voice. “You’d be in big trouble if you got caught, right?”
    “Right,” she said.
    “So, you decided to leave your home, and everything you knew. I can’t imagine doing that.”
    They walked in silence for a moment. Anat unexpectedly found herself wrestling with a surge of emotions. The night she left, she’d mainly been excited about finally being with Hazim. She’d spent months dreaming about falling asleep with his arms around her. The