Half Dead World: Book One from the Apocalypse Tales by Adrienne Hargrove (little readers txt) 📗

Chapter Two Friends and Foes

I sprint past the last few doors before reaching my class. I make it just as the door is being shut by my teacher. She retreats and opens it back up with a smile. Thank Goodness for Mrs. Andrews, my current events teacher. She is the only teacher I have that is consistently in a good mood. I rush to take my seat while catching the eye of Kirra. Years of friendship have given us the ability to communicate without speech. With just a head nod and raised eyebrows we silently confirm that major events have taken place, which require in depth conversation. I sit in my seat across the aisle from, Kirra. Fin, who sits behind me leans forward and whispers in my ear. “Were you to busy flirting with the golden boy to get to class on time?”

“I wasn’t late. And what do you know about who I flirt with?”

Fin arches one eyebrow and smirks. “It was hard to miss.”

“Why do you care, Fin?” His mouth opens to respond, but quickly snaps shut as Mrs. Andrews begins her lecture on the influence of the United Administration on global agriculture laws. It is a topic that she has been focusing on more, and more, as every major government is considering the agricultural technology patented by Agrisin. Many countries are completely opposed to the new technology that is hailed by the U.A. as “the future of farming.” Some countries are interested but feel that more extensive safety testing should be done. Mrs. Andrews tries to be unbiased, but it’s clear she does not like the company, Agrisin. She is my favorite teacher, but I really don’t get why she is so worked up about Agrisin. They are on the verge of ending world hunger. Their latest modification of corn, soy and wheat seeds are guaranteed double the current crop yield and provide plants that are virtually indestructible. What’s the worst that could happen? The seeds are sterile, so if they don’t produce the expected yields, farmers can just plant the previous generation of modified seeds the next year. But if they do work, there would never be another person who died from hunger. How could anyone be against that? As Mrs. Andrews rants on I feel something nudge my right elbow. I look down, and discreetly slide the folded piece of paper that Fin passed me into view. It has just one sentence written in his surprisingly neat handwriting.

What is your obsession with him anyway?

I look up and see that Mrs. Andrews is still facing the projection screen reading off objections made by eighteen world governments the strongest protests coming from Austria, New Zealand, Germany, Greece, and France.

I roll my eyes and hastily scrawl.

Why do you even care?

He reaches for the note instantly and within seconds I feel it back at my elbow.

“I just don’t want to see my friend make a mistake.”

My jaw clenches tight and my face heats with fury.

“Who are you, to be calling me a mistake? I could be the greatest thing that ever happens to Jackson!”

I can hear Fin groan audibly as I wait for his response.

“I meant you, Haven, you’re my friend and I’m not saying Jackson is a mistake. I mean, he’s my friend too. But that doesn’t mean you two belong together. You two are so different. I just don’t get why you like him so much. And I don’t think you need to be chasing after any guys - they should be chasing after you.”

My mind races after I read his note and I can’t help but turn to look back at him. His eyebrows are slightly raised but other than that his expression is completely impassive. I turn back around at a total loss for what to think. Fin used to be my friend. Actually, he was my best friend from the day we met until halfway through junior high. He was the first friend I made after my family moved to Elizabeth, Louisiana from Fairhope, Alabama. My dad is a civil rights lawyer and we relocated to Elizabeth because though it’s small and there isn’t a lot to do, it is within twenty miles of the National Religious Freedom Center. His practice focuses on preserving the rights of places of worship within the United Administration. We moved to Oak Grove an upper middleclass subdivision that borders the Kisatchie national forest. Fin lives with his Dad in a trailer in the middle of the forest about five miles away by forestry road. But only a mile and a half by hiking trail. We met when we were both seven years old. It was the middle of summer, so it was about a million degrees outside. I was sitting at the edge of my pool with my feet dangling in the water. I was pouting because I had not made any friends yet, in this sleepy, southern, town with a population of just under, ten thousand people. I looked up after hearing a noise at the wood line, and I saw Fin peeking out of the woods at me. I hopped up and put my shoes on, thinking Fin was some sort of miracle. But as soon as I started walking toward him, he took off running down the trail into the woods. I took off after him, but he was fast. I yelled after him “wait I’m not supposed to come into the woods, come back! I can’t follow you or I’ll get in trouble.”

He stopped and turned, then slowly walked back toward me. As we made it back to my yard from the trail, Fin said, “Your dad won’t whip you too bad if I’m around.”

I looked at him confused. “My dad won’t whip me. He’ll just punish me. You know, like, make me stay inside or take away my dessert.”

Fin gave me a skeptical