Free The Undesirable (Undesirable Series) by S. Celi

breathed in his familiar smell.
    Then he leaned in and kissed me.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

    In a cold sweat, I jolted awake in the Murphy bed the next morning. The sheets wrapped around me so tight they restricted the blood flow to my legs. I lay in the bed for a few minutes and counted the grooves in the ceiling.
    I still tasted Fostino on my lips. First, his lips had brushed mine. Just once.
    “You’re so beautiful, Charlotte,” he’d whispered.
    I’d pressed up against him on the apartment floor. A charge filled the air around us as time slowed down. The kisses turned from one to two, and then to five. They went on and on, pulsating and intensifying with each one. I held on to his muscular chest adorned with all the medals and insignia; I smiled under the tickle of stubble on his chin. When he pulled me closer, my hand found a place behind his neck and I never wanted to let him go.
    We only stopped when the Hologram Watch reminded Fostino of his duties.
    I thought about those moments the whole day. I stitched each kiss into the shirts I made. I saw his face when the government propaganda played on the huge monitors at the factory. I wondered if he would leave me another note in the fabric spool. I saw Fostino everywhere. His final words to me echoed through my head. All day I waited for the clock to tick to 7:00 PM. Once it did, I rushed to the apartment and shut myself inside.
    I went to the bathroom and peered into the small mirror above the sink. My hand ran a brush through my hair and I dotted a thin amount of lip-gloss on my lips. Then I focused on my face. I never saw much beauty when I gazed at myself, but I knew Fostino and others did. I wanted to be beautiful for him.
    Unsatisfied with what I saw in the mirror, I turned away and waited for Fostino in the living room. Bored after a few minutes, I turned on the 4-D TV. I took one large step back when the screen buzzed on.
    “Oh, you work today,” I said to it before I could stop myself. On the screen, state media showed video of Maxwell Cooper and his wife Patricia at a ribbon cutting for a War Memorial in Chicago. After that came a clip of the two of them getting on Air Force One, flanked by their two sons, and then some video of them arriving at a state dinner with generals from The Party.
    Fostino was much later than I expected. He didn’t knock at the apartment door until well after 10:00 PM, and well after his patrol shift. By that time, a Hollywood produced movie about economic struggles in Canada had almost finished. When I opened the door, he wore a distressed expression.
    “What’s wrong?” I pulled him inside the studio. “What’s happened?”
    “It’s the patrols.” Fostino got a glass of water from the bathroom sink. “They’re getting harder,” he said in between gulps. His brow furrowed. “Char, so many Undesirables live in our town.”
    “Really?” I leaned up against the bathroom doorframe, incredulous. “Come on.”
    “Yes, really.” He slammed the glass down on the sink ledge. He came out of the bathroom and sat on the sofa. “Remember what they told us in school about all those people who spy on us for Canada? It’s all coming true.”
    “Did you arrest people tonight?” I asked as I flopped on the Murphy bed. 
    “Yes.” He broke my gaze and fixated on the TV. State media now showed a movie about how horrible life in Canada had turned since the beginning of The War.
    “How many?” I whispered my question.
    “Fifteen,” he replied. He took off his jacket and revealed a grey t-shirt to match his cargo pants. “All on evidence of membership in the SSR.”
    “I heard about the SSR.” I pulled my hair into a ponytail.
    “But, you don’t know what I know,” he informed me with a raised eyebrow. “The SSR is not just the enemy. They will undo us. Even now, they might have bugged this apartment. Don’t trust them. They claim they know the way to freedom— whatever freedom is to them. It’s lies.” He stood up and