Free Parched by Georgia Clark Page B

leaf, the word
beautiful
, the word
true
. But whatever it was, it would be the same.
    I make a noncommittal noise, tugging my arm out of her grasp.
    She blinks, words stumbling, hands waggling. “You look so—”
    â€œDisheveled, tired, scraggy, wild?” Izzy’s sub buzzes helpfully, hovering at her head like a friendly ghost.
    â€œ
Different
,” Izzy finishes. We lock eyes. A huge, excited, overwhelmed smile bursts onto her face.
“Tess!”
She squeals, leaping forward to kiss me flush on the mouth and throw both arms around my neck. I go to hug back, but before I can, she pulls herself from me. Her face is screwed in disgust. “Oof. Tess, you
stink
.”
    â€œOh.” I smile, giving my top a sniff. “Yeah. Guess that’s part of the story.”
    I see a clutch of white-suited joggers heading toward us, and instinctively move off the path, drifting into the trees behind us. Izzy trots along next to me, eyes unable to leave mine. As we walk, I start with her small questions: I’m fine; I’m staying with Abel; yes, you’re the first friend I contacted; no really, I’m fine. Then I answer the big one. “I’ve been in the Badlands.”
    The news cuts through her like an electric shock. “The Badlands?” She gapes. “As in, the
Badlands
Badlands?”
    â€œYup.”
    â€œOn your own—for the whole
year
?”
    â€œAfter Mom died, I just needed a change.”
    â€œI never got the chance to tell you how sorry I was to hear about her.” She shudders, stopping to face me. “So awful, Tess. I can’t imagine . . . I mean, the thing she was working on. What was it?”
    â€œMagnus.” The word is an unwilling whisper.
    â€œThat’s it. I had no idea it was actually dangerous.” She stares up at me, expression pained and pitiful. “Are you okay? I know it was ages ago, but . . . I wished you’d commed. You just left. You were just gone—”
    â€œI know,” I say. “I’m really sorry.” I grimace. “Can we change the topic?”
    Without skipping a beat, Izzy says, “Sure.” The air is warm around us, heavy with summer scents and the light trills of birds. We’re heading toward a more populated part of the park. Around us, families are out picnicking and tossing Frisbees. Izzy links her arm into mine, a gesture so familiar it’s almost automatic. “So,” she says, trying for upbeat, “what are we doing today?”
    â€œActually,” I say, “I need your help.”
    Izzy wrinkles her nose. “I hope it’s help with your dirty clothes situation.”
    I laugh. Already I’m feeling lighter. “It is. Your father’s still a Guider, right?”
    â€œDaddy dearest surely is. Day off today, though.”
    â€œWhich means he’s working in the garden?” I guess.
    She nods, grinning, pulling me closer to her. “It’s like you never left!”
    â€œExcellent.” I grin back. “Now, I don’t exactly need to break any rules . . .”
    â€œJust bend them into pretty new shapes?” She blinks coquettishly. “Luckily, I am in a
very
flexible mood.”
    I tell Izzy I lost my ID in the Badlands, and the border control official said to get a new one when I was back. I tell her I want to see her dad because that process takes days, and I want a new ID now. The truth is the panel of Guiders I’d have to present this story to at a local meet would see through it in a heartbeat.
    Izzy’s house is just as light and airy as I remember it, all stainless steel and sparkling glass. I’m a little winded from the walk up, but the view across Eden still takes my breath away. The curved glass skyscrapersin the Hive catch the light brilliantly, as do the glittering solar panels on the roof of the house below. I can even glimpse parts of Moon Lake way up in