lecture, I hope you’ll absorb this—while the popularity of these books did help to point the pioneering Psychologists of The Association to develop a better alternative to what existed in society, they themselves are all drivel and even dangerous, most implying that an apocalypse of some sort has to occur before lasting change can take place. While of course we live in a free society in which adults may apply to any branch of the Association Library to obtain a license in order to borrow these novels, we now know that they only do harm to vulnerable, developing minds. Just like how the use of any tool involving the internet or mobile communication is now restricted to members of The Association, to industries for whom such technology is essential, and to any adult who has undergone a thorough evaluation and obtained the appropriate license.” He coughs. “Such restrictions are necessary in order to prevent the Social Media Era from ever occurring again. History has witnessed first-hand the implications of having technology set the pace for society, rather than ethics. While there are those among us who might pine for our forbearers’ more technologically sophisticated, but morally empty past, those numbers are few.”
“But what does the internet have to do with those novels?” I ask, forgetting to put up my hand.
Dr. Witmer frowns at me.
“Um, it’s just that I’ve always been told by my dad about how dangerous unauthorized internet use can be, so I get that, but I still don’t see what that has to do with these books?”
Dr. Witmer shakes his head a few times, then draws in a deep breath. “To answer your question, Ms. Jenkins, the danger of these books is that they have the unfortunate ability of influencing vulnerable minds of the possibility of utopias that just cannot exist. We now know that only our current Type system, a system that all of the countries in the Free World have agreed to follow, is based on solid science and rigorous research, not some novelists’ fancy of what might sell at a bookstore. Is that understood, Ms. Jenkins?”
“Yes, sir,” I murmur, still confused. The Hunger Games, The Uglies, The Long Walk. The Hunger Games, The Uglies, The Long Walk. The Hunger Games, The Uglies, The Long Walk. Remember, remember, remember.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
‘Supposing a tree fell down, Pooh, when we were underneath it?’ ‘Supposing it didn’t,’ said Pooh…
—A. A. Milne
As soon as the bell rings, I’m already half-way out of my seat. I want to get out of this class as quickly as possible, to get away from Aaron as fast as I can. I don’t wait for the line to form but instead race out of the room. I don’t care if I lose points for Ribbon Day. I don’t care about anything except the fact that I’ve somehow lost my very best friend.
As I run down the hall, I hear footsteps racing after me . Could it be ? I stop and turn to look at who’s there. Instead of Aaron, I come face to face with Noah.
“Oh, hey,” I say, forgetting about Aaron for a moment. “Those books you talked about sound good. Do you still have any?”
“I might, I might not. Why do you ask?”
“I dunno,” I shrug. “Just curious.”
“Now, Ms. Jenkins, I thought you understood that these are dangerous novels that could influence your oh-so-vulnerable mind?” he sneers.
I pull back, suddenly remembering that I find this kid strange. “Forget it. I’ve got to go anyway, or I’ll be late for French class.”
“You want to hurry to French class?” Noah snorts. “Fun times!”
“What’s your problem, exactly?” I cross my arms and stare at this boy, this cocky, not-Aaron kid.
Noah smiles at me for a moment, without saying anything. After a few seconds he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper. “I was going to put this under your bowl tomorrow, but you’ve saved me the trouble.”
I stare at the piece of paper, knowing but not knowing, before grabbing it from him. I