Free The Wild One by Gemma Burgess Page A

millennials.”
    â€œMillennials?” says Vic.
    â€œThat’s us!” Pia pipes up. “People born in the ’80s and ’90s.”
    â€œRight.” Samantha nods. “And I’d like you and your friends to come in and tell us what it’s like to be young, living in a big city, trying to start adult life.”
    â€œIt blows,” says Angie.
    â€œAren’t your grad students in our generation too?” asks Julia.
    â€œYes, but they can’t answer questions impartially and honestly,” says Samantha. “Lying little bastards.” We all look at her in shock. “I’m kidding! Honestly, I’m just trying to get a good cross section of people. Plus, it pays a hundred dollars!”
    â€œIs this a trap?” says Angie. “So you can paint us as a useless, self-absorbed generation of brats?”
    â€œAngie!” Pia and Julia are shocked.
    â€œSorry, Samantha, but it’s not my bag.” Angie stubs out her cigarette and stands up. “I’m not a lab rat. You can’t study me.”
    â€œThat’s really not the—”
    â€œSee you soon, Vic.” Angie kisses Vic on the cheek, and a moment later she’s gone.
    There’s an awkward silence.
    â€œUm … well, I think it’s cool,” says Julia.
    â€œMe too,” says Pia, less convincingly.
    Samantha claps her hands, a gesture that reminds me of Vic. “I’m glad you think so! Right, so, the study is taking place on a Friday in August—”
    â€œI work on Fridays,” says Madeleine. “And now I gotta go. I’m meeting Amy. Good luck.”
    A second late, Madeleine vanishes.
    â€œSorry, Samantha,” says Pia. “Normally I’d love any excuse to talk about myself for an hour, but I have a job.”
    Samantha looks at Julia and me. “Looks like it’s just you two.”
    â€œI can’t do it either, I have to work, I—” Julia suddenly looks very pale, like she’s going to throw up.
    â€œAre you okay?” asks Samantha.
    â€œI feel strange,” says Julia, her voice soft and whispery.
    Pia immediately takes her by the wrist to check her pulse, though I don’t know why, since obviously if she was dead we’d know by now. “Have you eaten today?”
    â€œI haven’t eaten since…” Julia’s voice trails off, as though finishing her sentence is too hard.
    â€œCoco, get her a juice,” says Vic quickly, and I run into the kitchen. By the time I’ve come back with the drink, Julia’s lying flat out on the deck. She’s breathing quickly, and her mouth and lips are a strange pale blue.
    â€œShe fainted!” Pia likes to make dramatic, obvious statements sometimes.
    â€œI’m okay,” Julia mumbles, her eyes closed. “I’m just not feeling too great.” She takes a sip of Coke, then coughs, spitting most of it back out onto the deck. “It was a busy week … at work. Just … a little tired.”
    Vic shakes his head. “Julia, not for nothing, but not eating and not sleeping is about the stupidest thing you can do.”
    â€œMy boss says sleep is a state of mind,” murmurs Julia.
    Samantha turns to me. “Which bank does Julia work at?”
    I tell her.
    Samantha purses her lips. “One of my neighbors’ kids worked there. Had a breakdown. It’s not normal to work that many hours a week. It’s dangerous.”
    Within minutes, Julia’s blue tinge has dissipated, and she looks normal again. Pale, but normal.
    â€œSorry, everyone. I’m fine, honestly, I’m fine. I’ll just take it easy today.”
    Vic sighs, looking at his watch. “If you’re really sure you don’t want to go to the hospital, then Samantha and I had better get going. We’re headed to Hoboken.”
    â€œI really would love to help with your study, Samantha, but I just don’t have