Free ARC: Essence by Lisa Ann O'Kane Page A

water. Does that make sense?”
    “Yes. But people can’t… I mean, you don’t bathe out in the open , do you?”
    “No.” She laughed as we began climbing a steep trail. “Well, actually, I don’t know. How do you define ‘open’?”
     
    ‘Open’, it turned out, was the perfect description for the scene awaiting us. The Balcony was little more than a ledge – probably only fifteen feet wide from base to edge. Formed by the trickling of a sheet waterfall from a stream high above the canyon, its pools were simple hollows crowded between the ledge and the wall, where water collected briefly before cascading sideways toward a creek.
    My cheeks immediately flared when I saw the cluster of half-naked and naked girls crowded around the pools. They brushed their hair and laughed and seemed completely unaffected by the massive, sweeping views of the Valley below them.
    That’s when I realized we were above the pine trees. I crept toward the edge, cheeks still burning, and I could barely detect the outline of the Ahwahnee through the foliage.
    “Hidden in plain sight,” Jett explained, coming to stand beside me. “We’re too high up here for anyone to see us from the hotel.”
    Seeing my expression, she glanced back at the girls and added, “This group will be moving on soon. I… I guess I forget how weird this must be for you.”
    “No, it’s OK.”
    I was lying. As I continued staring out at the Valley, I realized the only naked girls I’d ever seen were my mother and Aunt Marie. And from the moment I could comfortably bathe and dress myself, they’d left me alone to do just that.
    I couldn’t imagine stripping down out here in the open like this. Although I knew the other girls wouldn’t care, I would care, and that’s all that mattered.
    I was already sharing my bedroom with a boy and listening to people dance until dawn. What was the Community going to ask me to do next?
     
    Strap on a metal wristband that recorded every fluctuation in my heart rate, apparently.
    I finally managed to get undressed at the Balcony, but only after everyone left and Jett turned her back to guard the entrance for me. Her face seemed uncharacteristically serious, and she nodded without hesitation at my request. “Of course I’ll do that,” she said, squeezing my hand. “I used to be terrified of this place.”
    There was something lingering in her voice, and I thought I detected sadness in the slump of her shoulders as she added, “Don’t ever let anyone talk you into changing, OK, Autumn? You can be as modest and shy as you like.”
    Javi seemed likewise rattled by his experience of showering in the outdoors. “How was your bath?” he asked when we regrouped to head with Cody to Curry Village. Apparently rethinking his question, he turned and walked the rest of the way in silence.
    Now, as we sat side by side in Rex’s glowing clinic, Javi stared at the complicated metal bracelet shining on his left wrist. Rex was kind – overly explanatory and cautious – as he said, “It’s completely painless, and everyone here has one. All it does is record your heart rate.”
    The laboratory’s fluorescent lighting, strange equipment and beeping computer panels jarred me as I studied my own wristband.
    “We will download your heart rate readings into our database once a week to track fluctuations and changes,” Rex continued. “We will also swab your saliva once a day to check your hormone levels.” He swiveled in his chair and motioned to a counter crowded with swabs and test tubes. “By tracking your heart rates and hormone levels through time, we can show the non-alignment of these things to Essence drain and the length of your lifespan.”
    “Your information is completely confidential,” Rex’s associate Daniel Lynch said, entering through a side door and pulling on a pair of gloves. His thick muscles were coiled, and his red hair gleamed with an oily sheen. I guessed he hadn’t taken it upon himself to