I

It was a grey morning in JuneFlower. Vast clouds hung over the sky, rain was coming. Shadows from the rising sun began so fall on my bed. Color was lacking from the world. I pulled my coarse brown hair into its long ponytail and brushed my too-long bangs from my eyes. The jagged lines of hair that impaired my vision were about to be gone. My pale fingers wrapped around the scissors. I place the blades to my hair and begin to cut. My bangs slowly fall back down to my eyes and I can see. That haircut was long overdue.

Looking in the mirror, I check my black eyeliner- its fine- and my outfit. My plaid red skirt that was mandatory for uniform was cut to shreds at the ends and pops out around my waist, showing the black underskirt. My grey-and-black striped jacket was in place so the sleeves just barely showed the multiple colored bracelets on my left wrist.

Navy blue socks were pulled up to my knees. I hate wearing these socks, but they're the only things that'll hide the large rash I have on my right leg. Its weird- the rash is just a patch of red that spirals from my ankle to my knee- but every day it becomes more detailed. When I first noticed it, the rash was just a patch. It grew bigger and now, if you look closely, you can see little etchings of scales. It has become darker so I've been wearing these long socks for nearly a week. But this isn't what I should be thinking of at this moment in particular.

My music is blaring out of the speaker system so I turn the little silver knob down just enough to hear my pagers near silent beep. Reaching to my waist I see the illegal little words scroll across the stolen screen.

All set, the OK on your mark. –Cole

This is all I need to know. Grabbing my skateboard off the wall and covering off my face with a black scarf, I headed to the front of the Hall. It looms over all of the school section of JuneFlower- the prestigious JuneFlower Academy of the Hall. My job in JuneFlower- as a junior- is to make sure no one is caught with illegal stuff, which is anything not fitting our time here. The time in JuneFlower is around the turn of the century on Earth. So cell phones, mp3 players, and digital stuff are big no-nos. Now, my job is not to ban that. It's stupid that we should be less advanced than every city before us. There's a pattern here- you know the order of the months, right? - Every city has a name of a month- JuneFlower, MayBlossem, JulySparks, get the picture? – The closer you get to New January, the more advanced you get. No one really knows how far into our future that New January is, exactly, but it is way tech. Tech that is forbidden everywhere else. But I have tech, so does Cole, and so do the deliveries that I'm "supervising" right now. And by supervising, I mean robbing. So I'm not an angel.

My pager is very tech, thought activated and camouflage, so all I need to do is tap it to send Cole my OK. Red glares into my eyes as I read her message:

Good luck, Yumé.

I pop my headphones in to block out the world for a moment as the car comes into sight. We only have old cars here, and even those are rare, so this was something. It was sleek and silver. I would give anything to steal that car instead of the cell phones that it was transporting to MayBlossem. But my job was here and now and there was no time to lose. I cranked up the J-Pop that I barely understood and it Ooo-Ooo-Ooo-Aaah-Ooo-Aaahed into my ear drums. I picked up to its tempo and laid down the nails. The plan was simple enough- put down nails, blow the tires, nab some phones as they fix the tires, and show up to school while everyone thinks I should be sleeping. Everything was set, so I climbed up a tree to be out of sight as the car came closer.

I secured my seat on the branch and got a better look at the car. I cursed silently to myself as I realized that this was a flying car. A flying car would not be stopped by nails, I knew that much. They've never sent flying cars to this part of JuneFlower, maybe the other side of the city so the tech-worthy scientists could study something, but never here. Something was up. I tapped my pager and the little red glow comforted me even though Cole's words were anything but optimistic.

Don't do it, you'll kill yourself, Yumé!

I only had the one chance. If I follow the car, I'd lose it in no time at all. It was hitching a ride or ditch the mission. And I didn't feel like ditching today. So I climbed down from the tree and scout up and down the road, no eyes watching me except the faint green glow of dark-glasses that would be Cole. I waved to her and my pager glowed red with curse words from her. I rolled up the nails in their pouch and positioned myself on the dirt road and waited. I'd only have one chance and there were two ways to fail- miss the bars and stay on the road, or grab in the right way and let go too soon. One way you live, the other you die. That's usually the situation though.

I braced myself as I heard the near silent hum of the car. I stopped the music and slowly raised my hands. I barred my fingers in the way Cole had taught me and inhaled. I don't think holding my breath will help me focus any more, or increase my chances of success in any way, but it was now or never. Within a matter of seconds the car passed over me and I grabbed the metal bars, hoisting myself to the underside of the silver vehicle. Adrenaline rushed to my mouth in the form of bile that I chocked down, this car was speeding up.

Pulling myself further from the ground, I felt the strangely cold metal to my cheek. I had always thought that the metal being cold was a myth; there was no way that the car would be cold if it went so fast. Surely, friction with the air would cause it to hear up at least a little. I remember nearly five years ago when my teacher had laughed at me for speaking such nonsense. We were taught the knowledge of only this time period here. But it was the highest school you could get into by grade. You had to be born into knowledge in the tech cities. I'm lucky that my parents were smart enough to send me here from OctoberRush, so I wouldn't believe in spontaneous generation. In places like OctoberRush and DecemberSnow, dust behind couches is where mice come from.

The car began to slow and I can feel my too-long hair slipping from where my ponytail is tied to my back so it won't trail behind me. I don't move. Feet dressed in slick black dress shoes exit from the doors on either side. But there is one pair of shoes that seems out of place. Old, worn-out, once-white sneakers are pulled from the seat. Jeans drape around the edges of the shoes, looking like an orange dress in a black and white ball. I hear a boys voice, probably only a little older than me, call for help. He pleaded to be let go. It took all I had in me to stay put until they got inside the interrogation office. I'd never been to this part of town before, it's out of sight from the school section and I can't even see the brown roofs of the dorms in either direction. Whatever was going on here didn't want to be found out.

I let myself drop to the ground and knocked the breath out of myself in the process. A voice sounded from the car and I could tell that it was the only voice that would come. It was just this, probably strong, most likely armed, man of the government against me, a 16-year-old girl with stringy muscle whose only advantage is surprise. I'd usually put myself into the occasional fight at school for some reason or another- mostly because some scum tried to steal my tech- but it was always someone around my age. Never someone as huge as this guy must be. And, of course, like the idiot I am, I grabbed his ankle as he stepped out of the car. My black nails dug into his skin and the man screamed. I let go and rolled under to the other side of the car to avoid his gaze. The man was looking under the car as I jumped over the silver metal roof and knocked the breath out of him as he hit the floor.

"Not a word and you live," I harshly disguised my voice into his ear and opened the back seat to the car. There was a small white box on the middle seat labeled FSB- TO BE TAKEN. I knew better, this stuff was either going to be burned or someone was going to take it. I remember my white box I'd brought from OctoberRush- it held only one thing, a pink stuffed rabbit, but they burned it all the same. YSN was written on mine- Yumé Sylvanna North- this FSB might want his pink rabbit. I slipped it under my jacket and ran out of sight.

I tapped my pager to tell Cole what I saw, little but still possibly useful. We'd either be getting a new classmate or there'd be another stack of smoke. I tried not to think of the white shoes being engulfed in the flames- it was only rumor that they burned people here. Some said it was traitors that they caught in the forest that were burned, others said they were criminals (which meant that Cole and I probably would've been burned alive by now, had we been caught). But we were all told by authority that it was fire that fueled our town. Burning fossil fuels apparently supplied energy in our time period. I cleared my mind; there was no way that he was dead.

I just have to keep moving. Red glares up at me as I see the entrance to the Hall come into view. My pager probably says something about being late to orchestra practice and how Mr. Leeds is probably going to kill me. I've got no time to check as I run. The world begins to blur as I know I've reached my limit. My pace slows and I've only a few more blocks to go. I pass the library that branches off from the general store and wave to Aunt Rootie, the librarian. She's not really my aunt, or anyone's relative for that matter, but everyone calls her Aunt Rootie, or Root. Her real name is Annalisa Rootwood, but she's like everyone's grandma. She's the greatest. She probably even knows that I was the one robbing all the tech from the labs, that Cole was the one who spray-painted the Hall to say "Hall of Hell" last week, she probably knew that my viola was at home and I had orchestra first hour of school.

I changed my course to grab my viola from home. My pager blinks red again and I ignore it once more as the worn door to my shared dorm comes into view. I reach to my belt key to unlock the door and fumble my fingers around the lock as I hear the soft click. My house is relatively colorful on my side of the rooms. Bright colors that were lacking light this morning greet my eyes that take a while to adjust. I sit on my bed for a second and look to my viola case in the corner between the wall and door. I click my pager and two messages scroll across the screen.

Yumé, Mr. Leeds has you suspended already, no need to rush. –Cole

Turns out they found out it was me who spray-painted the Hall, see you in the principals office. –Cole

I sighed in relief, if I'm suspended than there's no need to rush. I plug my ear buds in and familiar piano notes classical rock their way into my mind as I sing along. My mp3 player was way on the illegal scale here; Cole got it for my birthday last year from a truck that was stopped up in the forest. She'd been on a walk, minding her own business, really, and there was a fully-loaded truck full of mp3's that were already full of songs, so what were you expecting her to do? She snagged three- one for her, one for me, and one to sell for a fortune on the black market.

There were only a few professional musicians in this part of the world, and they were old school rock. Some techno songs hit up big in New January, there are mostly love ballads in FebuaryLove (shocker), so the music on this mp3 was a big deal- it was interplanetary. None of the songs I know the words to are from Year. I'm just a ball of illegal.

It's probably not going to look good on my already bad record that I was late for suspension, so I headed out. I walk on an allegretto to the song I'm listing to and carry my viola over my shoulder. I might as well look like I only overslept. I stopped the music but continued to walk on pace as I hid my tech. My backpack was nearly empty but I had sewn a pocket that was nearly hidden from sight, and that's where I shoved my pager and mp3. My socks were falling down so I tidied myself up- untying my ponytail from the latch on my back, straightening out my skirt, pulling down the black face mask. I was barely recognizable in the light. Punk, 16-year-old girl who could beat the snot out of anybody was fixing her hair to make sure she looked pretty.

I opened the doors and strolled down the hall to the principal's office. Inside there would be five seats that were never filled all the way, one for me and one for Cole today. The other three would probably be empty. I reached to the knob, but it turned for me. A boy who looked about 14 came out. He had bright green eyes, orange hair, and politely excused himself from almost knocking me over, but when his gaze met mine- we were about the same height since I'm short for my age- he hesitated for a moment as if he knew me.

"You look just like," He began

"Ms. North, well, you know what to do." The principal bellowed from his cushy seat. I shrugged at the boy and walked into the office. Cole was already in the office so I sat next to her in the uncomfortable metal chair. She nodded to me, her dark brown hair covering her black eyes. She was extremely tan and long. Cole was always wearing this bright green jacket with the sideways XP logo of her favorite brand of clothes- totally not within our century, but the time legality is a bit more lax about clothes. Even the mid-eighteenth century places where every girl should be wearing bodices, skirts and corsets there were a few Breakers who wore jeans and t-shirts. The Enforcers called us criminals, but we called each other Breakers- like, breaking the law. The Enforcers ran the police force and made patrols and raids every so often, but not so much in the schools. If they raided the school we'd find a way to get our stuff back and a little revenge on the way. And they know it. So we're just overlooked.

"What were you doing this morning, Ms. North?" The Mr. Bee croaked.

"I overslept,"

"Again?" He seemed disdainful, but in his monotone voice it could be anything, "That's the third time this week."

"I guess I have to get an alarm clock," I whispered to Cole, who laughed.

"What was that, Ms. North?"

"I just said that I'll have to get Cole to wake me up earlier."

"Well, I'd normally agree but you two need to be doing just the opposite."

"The opposite of getting up? 'Cuz, I'd happily go back to sleep." Cole muttered defiantly

"No, the opposite of staying together! Ms. North is the top student here, and I'd rather not have you, Mrs. Andrews, corrupt her further!"

"Sheesh," Cole spat, "I think being corrupted was her choice, chose it from the minute she first punched me back." We fist-bumped and laughed as Mr. Bee's face grew tomato red.

"Alexandra Andrews," Cole flinched at her name; no one ever called her Alexandra… and lived.

"You will go back to class." She shrugged and left, tapping my shoulder for good luck. It's not really luck, more like a tapping in. Like saying, "I'm done; take the next hit for me, Kay?"

"And, you Ms. North, you will be escorting two new students."

I nearly doubled over, "You want a juvenile delinquent to show fresh meat around."

"No, I want our top student to show new students around. They're waiting outside. Go and meet them. Be polite- this'll get you excused from classes today."

I was shoved out the door into two boys. Apparently, the redhead from earlier was a newbie and the tall boy with him was the other.

"Yo, I'm Yumé North. I'll be showing you guys 'round." I looked them over- the boy from earlier was actually a bit taller than I am, probably about 5'9", and his bright green eyes had a ring of brown around the pupils, and his face was constellation of pale freckles. He was wearing a blue long-sleeved shirt and rather clean jeans that were a bit faded. The other boy with him was more of a man, probably about 17 years old, had rusty reddish brown hair, sapphire blue eyes, and was close to six feet tall. He was tan and had a slight build, wearing a white t-shirt with guitars on it, worn out jeans, and old white sneakers.

"I'm Iggy Spade, nice to meet you Yumé." The redhead said, the other politely said

"Farren," the other said and smiled a bit.

"Well, I guess you're expecting a tour. This is the principal's office, if you need to find me or Cole we'll probably be here or doing something that'll eventually get us here." Farren muffled a laugh and Iggy smiled as I went on, showing them the various classrooms. Iggy, as it turns out, only looks fourteen. He's actually just turned sixteen and Farren is seventeen, but he's turning eighteen in a few weeks.

I showed them the science room with the "egg babies" laid out in rows with the grades. Mine was the only failed- only because I took it with me last week when Cole and I stole some new jeans, since you can only get uniforms at the general store, and it fell out of its basket and got a sizeable crack along the front. You were supposed to decorate it to look like a baby, but I made mine look like a golden retriever, because those are way cuter than real babies.

"Why does your dog only have one eye?" Farren brushed my shoulder to get me attention.

"Well, it got in a fight with a pretty nasty cat…" I smiled widely at Farren, who did the same and Iggy laughed. He's quite the optimist.

So, our little tour continued for another hour or so with me showing them around the school, introducing them to people who told them not to hang around with me. All of them gave me sideways glances that I answered with a menacing smile that made them flinch. Especially this one blonde who said I wasn't Farrens type, obviously flirting.

"I think I'll take my chances." He told her with a smile. I think I'm gonna like this one. I showed them their separate rooms. Farren was rooming with this hyper know-it-all, Jake Rutherford, who was my friend from orchestra. He plays trumpet. As it turns out Farren plays cello and Iggy plays acoustic guitar.

"I should probably unpack, where can I get my stuff?" Iggy asked

"They put it up in your room, at least they usually do,"

"Kay, thanks!"

"Wait, Iggy, if there's anything missing, don't ask for it. They'll just deny it exists. All part of the time zones staying intact."

His happy expression changed to a serious one that I thought his smiling face couldn't wear, "Alright," and with that he left.

"So, Farren, you gonna go, too?"

"Yeah, am I gonna see you tomorrow?" He smiled and I thought this meant he liked me but then I realized I was one of the only two people he knows here. So I nodded and looked down out of habit. Looking at his shoes was like a cold slap in the face.

"Farren, what's your full name?"

"Farren Shane Bright, why?"

"Come by my house tomorrow, I think I have something that belongs to you,"