The Lofties (The Echelon Book 2) by Ramona Finn (ebook reader play store .TXT) 📗

night. Maybe they’d be horrified, watching us drift apart, seeing how frivolous our lives had become. Maybe they’d be happy for her joy in it all and want the same for me. I took a deep breath. “They’d want you to find your place here,” I said. “To do what makes you happy, whatever that ends up being.”

“You think so?” Ona brightened. “I do love all this. I just wish I could—I always sit where the cameras are, when I’m out for lunch, or at the park. I keep hoping they’re watching, on those new screens down there.”

“Then make sure you’re always smiling.” I squeezed her hands tight. “Make sure—”

“What’s this, now?” Elli flitted over, all laden with gowns. “Less chatting, more shopping. Chop-chop.”

I rolled my eyes, irritated, and mouthed chop-chop at Ona. She snickered into her hand.

“Here’s your dress,” she said. “Try it. For me.”

“I will.” I turned to go look for more, but Elli caught my elbow.

“Try the ones I’ve picked first,” she said, ushering me into a fitting room. “You’re hiding some serious curves under those trash bags of yours. You’ll need a tailored waist to show those off.”

“I wasn’t trying to—”

Elli shut the curtain on me. I stood feeling foolish, Ona’s dress draped over my arm. I tried that on first, but she’d picked the wrong size. It stuck at my hips, stitches popping, and I squirmed free, relieved.

The next one was blue, like the sky in old pictures. It had a waterfall of skirts and a breathless laced bodice. I blushed at the way it put my flesh on display. It seemed absurd to my eye, like a pair of jellyfish in an ice cream cone. I jiggled when I moved, rippled when I breathed, and I covered myself with a scowl.

“No. That’s not right.”

I tried a pink dress and a white one, and a black one slit to the hip. The pink itched my underarms; the white fit like sausage skin. The black wasn’t awful, but it made me look pale. I let it drop to the floor and reached for the next one, a layered charcoal-gray thing with red buttons up the sleeves. It reminded me of our birds, sober and sleek, with gory hints of color. When I slipped it on it felt soft, like my sweaters from Comfort Wear.

“Where’d that come from?” Elli poked her head in, brows knit together. “That’s not one of mine.”

“Don’t you like it?” I did a slow turn, admiring myself from all angles. I liked the way the layers shifted, turning dark grays to blacks. “I think it’s pretty.”

“It’s a bit plain, isn’t it? And awfully high-collared.” Elli tugged at my sleeves, straightening the buttons. “Didn’t you try the other ones?”

“Yeah, but I want this one.”

“Uh—hey, Myla?” Lock called through the curtain, his voice low and sheepish. “If you’re dressed, could you come over? I’m in a fight with my shirt.”

“Go ahead,” said Elli. “I’ll check on your sister.”

I ducked into Lock’s fitting room and found him messing with his sleeves, one rolled to his elbow, the other hanging loose.

“I can’t find the buttons,” he said. “My cuffs are all—are they meant to flap like this?” He waved his arms by way of demonstration, knocking his coat off its peg.

“No. Here, let me—” I found his cufflinks on the shelf and reached for his hand. Static snapped as we touched, stinging my thumb and his wrist. Lock’s cheeks went pink.

“Sorry.”

“Electricity, right? What can you do?” I took his hand carefully and turned it palm-up. Lock stood perfectly still, the hairs rising on his arm as I rolled down his sleeve. “Prium had these on. From what I could see, they go just through the slits, slide, twist, and—there. Now, you get the other one.”

“I’m left-handed,” said Lock.

“Seriously?” I shot him a narrow look, but he was staring at his feet. “Then, fine. I’ll do it.”

“Thanks.”

I fixed his cufflink in place and retrieved his coat from the floor. “Now, put this on.”

Lock did as I told him, shrugging into his coat. It hung to his knees, resplendent in black and gold. Its collar grazed his ears, and he tugged it down, frowning.

“I look ridiculous,” he said. “Like a vampire, or—”

“You don’t.” I batted his hands away and smoothed his lapels. “See? Loosen your shirt a tad, just these top buttons, and you’ll actually look...”

“What?”

I cleared my throat, embarrassed. Lock looked almost dangerous, all sharp lines and angles, his broad shoulders straining against the fabric. He was sweating under the lights, a light sheen across his chest. The gold threads in his collar brought out amber flecks in his eyes.

“Halfway human,” I said. “You’ll look halfway human.”

Lock chuckled. “As opposed to...?”

“Your usual shaggy-dog self.” I mussed up his hair, mostly to cut the tension. Lock took my hand and lowered it to my side.

“Well, you look amazing. Like that dress was made for you.”

My ears burned red. “Now I feel like a jerk.”

“No need. I’m not—”

“You look good too,” I said. “That’s what I meant to say. It’s all just so weird, clothes like this, you and me. You don’t really look like a dog.”

“Nah, I get it.” Lock twiddled his cufflink, checking out the design. “I’m hopeless with all this—the clothes, the way they talk. When you go out to dinner, and there’s a million different forks, or that spoon with the teeth on it—what’s that all about? I’ve never seen anyone use it, but you sit down to dinner, and boom. Tooth-spoon.”

“It’s for grapefruit,” I said. “They have those Outside. But the rest...” I sat down heavily, weary to the bone. “It’s us. We don’t belong. Nobody wants us here, and as for Lazrad—”

“Myla—”

“This isn’t a reward.” I felt my jaw tighten. “This is to keep us quiet, so we won’t run our mouths in the Dirt.”

“Don’t go courting trouble.” Lock reached for me but didn’t touch, setting his hand next to me instead. “Without you to talk to, I—”

“How’s everything looking in here?” Elli pulled