"What is it like to grow?" asked Jade.
Connie stopped in the hallway, her knuckles poised against the row of lockers. They had been enjoying a companionable silence since finishing their Soy Delicioso! bar, with no inkling that such a question was brewing in the Gem. She searched the feelings bouncing around inside of her, but besides her own confusion, she couldn't feel anything out of place.
Tapping her fist against the locker, Connie said, "That's a really big question, Jade. Can you be more specific?"
"Unfortunately, no," Jade lamented. "The question revolves around such an alien concept that I do not know where to begin. I have tried researching the query on my own, but the answers are so mired in romanticism and metaphor, and individual accounts vary so wildly, that I find myself at a loss for how to proceed."
The mental image of Jade trawling the internet for anecdotes about the adolescent human experience rushed through Connie's mind. It was pretty funny, and it made Connie hope dearly that her parents weren't still checking her browser history. "If you're asking me, you must really be desperate for context," Connie said with gentle teasing.
"Indeed," Jade replied earnestly, "but given your familiarity with Gem-kind, it is perhaps not as preposterous as it initially sounds."
"Okay, I had that coming," Connie muttered, smirking. "Seriously, where is any of this coming from? Usually when you even say the word 'human,' I can imagine you sneering and sitting on a big, pointy throne, petting a white cat. Why the change of heart?"
Derision bubbled up through Jade's retort. "Your clumsy, ill-conceived, baffling metaphor aside, nothing has changed per se. But it may have been posited to me following recent events that, while my exhaustive survey took into account your species' place in the larger biosphere, I perhaps have made certain assumptions and broad generalizations about the finer intricacies of biologicals," she admitted.
Tapping the locker door, Connie suggested, "So you were wrong about humans."
"Imprecise," Jade said quickly. "I was imprecise. But I am seeking to correct any minor gaps in my knowledge, particularly while I am forced to inhabit one of those gaps. So I would like you to… That is, I had hoped you might agree to contextualize parts of your experience."
Connie ran her finger along the locker's dial, rotating the numbers idly as she focused on the calming techniques Garnet had taught her. This exact inquiry had been one of the conversations she had imagined back when the stone in her chest had still been a slumbering mystery. Now that she knew her passenger, she was no less excited, but afraid that too much enthusiasm would spoil the delicate moment.
"Okay," Connie said, feigning reluctance, "I guess I could do that. But if I do, you can't make fun of me or any humans, or yammer on about Gem superiority, for a whole month."
"Outrageous!" snapped Jade. "I will refrain from any of my harsher truths about you and your species for the remainder of this meal period."
"One whole week of all that stuff I said, plus you have to use your powers to go kite-flying with me and Steven," Connie insisted.
"I would sooner dissipate our collective form. I will grant you instead acquiescence to your initial terms until the beginning of the next morning, and will additionally transcribe the equations necessary for your species to achieve faster-than-light propulsion using your current level of technological development," Jade said.
"You have to be nice through the entire weekend," countered Connie, "and you have to say one nice thing to Steven when we see him tomorrow."
"Curses! Very well, you conniving anthropoid," Jade snarled. "I will accede to your terms starting—you and your kind are an embarrassment to the concept of 'dominant species'—now."
Her mouth puckering in amusement, Connie remarked, "You missed your calling as a lawyer."
"Zircon-like my capacity for reasoning may be, human," bragged Jade, "but my wisdom truly exceeds the scope and history of anything on Earth."
"Pyramids," Connie retorted.
"Win one argument without your precious pyramids!" Jade snapped. "I dare you!"
"Be nice," Connie said warningly. She listened for a moment, but the only response she got was a seeping feeling of defeat she remembered experiencing back when her parents had forced her into swimming classes. "Okay. So where do you want to start?" she asked.
Excitement arose in place of Jade's misery, bursting forth with the force of a head-on car collision. "Everywhere? You are so confounding! You start as one thing, and then constantly become something else. There is not a moment of certainty or stability at any point in your existence. How do you cope with that?"
Connie began to pace the halls again, thinking back to all the imagined conversations she had shared with the version of Jade she had invented months ago. There were all kinds of romantic notions about humanity she had shared with that imaginary Gem. But as little as she wanted to admit it, she knew those notions were as fictional as the Jade she had told them to.
"To be honest? We just don't think about it," Connie admitted. "I mean, I can't speak for anybody else, but everything feels like it happens too fast and too slow all at the same time. When you're waiting for something to change, it feels like it never will. But then, when you think about how things used to be, you realize how much everything changed without you even noticing."
Irritation and confusion twisted inside Connie as Jade protested, "There must be more to it than communal obliviousness. Something so profound cannot be inconsequential to your immediate experience. You are in constant flux, yet never aware of it? How can you exist like that? How can you ever know what you are?"
"We don't know any other way to be. It can't be any weirder than coming out of the ground completely grown up and knowing that you're exactly the way you're supposed to be, forever," Connie said.
"It is weirder by several orders of magnitude!" exclaimed Jade. "Gems are created for a purpose and go on to serve that purpose. Biologicals instead produce offspring based on impulses—chemical suggestions!—who then go on do to the same as seemingly their only purpose, except even that is not always the case. And along the way, sapient biologicals try to fill their time creating ancillary purpose, much of which is counterintuitive to their very survival."
"Okay, now you're just exaggerating," Connie said.
"Motorized vehicular racing. Leisure skydiving. Recreational projectile weapon use. Predatory animal husbandry. Bladed juggling. Eating contests! Need I go on?" Jade said.
"Huh. Giving you free access to TubeTube might have been a mistake," Connie mused.
"No reneging!"
"But see, all that momentary stuff, that dumb stuff we do to make ourselves happy or excited," Connie insisted, "that's what we live for. It's like we're trying to find our purpose somewhere in all that silliness, and when we do, we feel most like ourselves."
"It reflects poorly on your species that you find purpose in frivolous pursuits," Jade said smugly. Then, evidently remembering her promise, she added, "But of course, if it is humanity's preferred means of development, I suppose that is fine."
Rolling her eyes, Connie stopped in front of a bulletin board posted in the school's front corridor. The corkboard featured dozens of colorful papers layered over each other with printed announcements for things like clubs, activities, and even one flyer for a school dance from ages ago that Connie hadn't been brave enough to attend.
"It's not just the frivolous stuff, you know-it-all pyroxene," she teased Jade.
"How do you—?"
"You're not the only one in this body who reads," said Connie. "And all that silly and awesome stuff you listed is just a little slice of everything humans do. And all of this stuff is so important, especially for humans my age. Chess club, and math club, and anime club, and…hmm. We actually have a lot of cool clubs," she said, and tugged at the bottom row of flyers.
"And the purpose of these supplementary activities is to find your primary purpose? And then once you discover it, you perform that function for the remainder of your existence?"
"Maybe," Connie said. Her eyes flitted back to the faded school dance announcement that lay half-buried on the corkboard. Even though she hadn't gone, it had still changed her life forever, and had made her a part of something much more special. "But that's the tricky thing about always changing: we're always changing. We grow, and our purpose grows with us. I used to be way into stuffed animals and mashed carrots, but now I'm not. Now I like playing music, and reading, and sword-fighting, and school. And someday soon it might be something else."
Her mind panged with sadness that wasn't hers. "What a tormented existence you humans lead. To be created purposeless, and find your purpose by chance, only to lose it by chance? To be forced to constantly discover yourself? I cannot imagine anything so empty."
Connie's eyes found a more recent flyer, this one for a book club. She looked at the Clipart picture of the open book, its pages splayed out and ruffled by some imaginary breeze. "That's what I don't get about you, Jade: you already became so many different things before I met you. You were an explorer, and then they made you a Chronicler, and then you were a scout in the war. How can you think you could do all of that without changing?"
A long silence answered Connie at first. She was starting to do some mental scheduling to see if she could possibly fit a club into her jammed schedule when Jade finally said, "You truly remind me of myself sometimes, human. Yours was one of the first questions I asked my mentor. Back then I believed it impossible that a Jade could take on such a markedly different function." A tiny laugh tumbled up through a rush of emotions. "She insisted that every Gem is created with versatility and expertise enough for any function tasked to her by a Diamond. We do not change; we simply strip away doubt until we know we can do what is asked of us."
Stepping back from the board, Connie looked at the wallpaper of flyers for all of the things she loved, and wanted to try, and had never even thought to try. "It kind of works that way with humans too. Our parents don't get to pick what we're good at, but we're all born good at certain things. Humans can be strong, or fast, or smart, or clever. We figure out what we can do and then try to build our lives around those things, if we can."
Intrigue nibbled in the wake of Connie's words. "I suppose for such incomplete creatures, assigning a function to yourself based on a self-evaluation of your natural aptitude is not the worst way to construct your sloppy hierarchy," said Jade. After a beat, she asked, "So what are you good at, human?"
The question didn't have any of the sarcasm Connie would have expected. As she looked across the board, she said, "I guess I don't know yet. Like I said before, I like school, and books, and sword-fighting. Maybe if I keep trying, I'll be good at one of them one day."
"Humph. Well," Jade mused, "if any Gem should suffer the ignoble torment of being interred within an organic prison, it may only be fitting that my prison would be a studious warrior polymath. Perhaps it is the best of such abysmal circumstances."
Connie straightened, blinking in surprise. "Was that a compliment? Did you just say something nice?" she said.
"Given our recent agreement regarding your contextual assistance, my choice for discourse is limited. I can either converse thusly or I can remain in utter silence." Jade said. Then, after a moment, she added, "Thank you. I may have additional questions later, should you be willing, but I believe you have given me something to consider."
Connie smiled. "I'd be happy to. And you're welcome."
The school bell toned through the intercom, ending their walkabout lunch and cutting off Jade's reply. Doors opened down the hallways and students flooded out, smothering the quiet with a roar of conversations and laughter. Pressing her lips together, Connie waded into the foot traffic and was jostled back to her locker so she could collect her books for the next class.
Jade's conversation circled her thoughts as she twisted the combination into her locker. Ages ago, she had once imagined her best years in the distant future, laying at the end of a very long road of constant work: she would study hard, apply herself to all of the correct activities, meet all the right people and say all the right things, and then she would finally be happy.
Part of her still wanted to achieve all of those things, to be the astronaut scientist who cured diseases on her whirlwind campaign trail to being elected President, with perhaps a few years' sabbatical in between so she could perform with a philharmonic orchestra. But a different part of her was excited for the next day, when she would see her best friend again, or maybe pick up the sword again, or teleport off to some crazy new location. She was looking forward to the next morning when she and Jade could discuss the new music the Gem would discover overnight. She even looked forward to finishing her homework so she could try again at folding a paper orchid.
Once upon a time, Connie had lived in books and waited for happiness. But now, despite all of the troubles in her life, she had happiness now and hope for the future. She had changed so much that she could hardly recognize the person she had once been.
Who would she be after she and Jade were finally separated?
"Hey, Connie!" The cheerful voice knocked Connie out of her reverie. She turned and found Jeff staring behind her, waiting with a loose page in hand and a smile on his face. "How's it going?"
She returned the smile in kind. "Hey, Jeff. What's that?"
"It's a flyer for that sci fi club idea I told you about. What do you think?" He presented the flyer, grinning. "Do you think the flying saucer is too retro?"
Hardening her smile, Connie assured him, "Flying saucers never go out of style."
His cheeks pinked, and he said, "We're still looking for members to meet the minimum number for using a classroom after school. Are you sure you're not interested?"
"I'm crazy-interested, but I don't think I have enough time for it right now. Sorry," she said, and grimaced. Then her face sobered, and she began ticking off her fingers as she told him, "Ursula Le Guin. John Scalzi. The Ice Pirates. You have to cover all of those, Jeff. I'm serious."
"Pretty sure you need to be a member of the club to tell us what to read and watch," he teased her.
"Ooh, planning your next date?"
Their smiles collapsed as Connie and Jeff turned back to see Mandy Petti leaning against a nearby locker. Her entourage stood close at hand to play sneering audience while Mandy smirked. Summoning the last sliver of her patience, Connie said, "Go away, Mandy."
The blonde just grinned and said, "Looking for some privacy? Kissing in the hallway still lands you in detention, Big Nose. Not that you would ever get detention, not even for your little boyfriend's fish lips."
Other students around them dropped the pretense of not listening and watched the faceoff openly. Connie bristled at the swarm of prying eyes, but she kept her gaze locked in Mandy's. "What do you care what we're doing? Why does it even matter to you?" Connie demanded.
"If I were you, I'd be grateful if anybody cared about my nerdy little love life," Mandy retorted.
Jeff blushed, trembling as though he wanted to bolt from the scene. Fists curling at her sides, Connie forced herself to take a deep breath. She emptied her face, making it smooth. "If you were me," she told Mandy calmly, "you'd actually be smart enough think of something better to do with your time instead of prancing around making people feel bad."
Murder sparked in Mandy's eyes, fanning into a blaze as muted chuckling trickled around their audience. "You think you're so smart, don't you?" she growled, her smugness gone. "You think being smart makes you better than everybody. But you're just a big-nosed, ugly, sad, pathetic—"
The locker behind Mandy exploded open, its door hammering Mandy in the back of her head. She staggered onto one knee with a yelp, her hand cradling her scalp as the force of the blow bounced the locker door closed again. Connie stared in mute shock as Mandy winced and moaned, and then waved off her cronies' help.
"Ugh! What did you…?" Mandy pulled herself back to her feet and swung her glare at the mysterious locker. "What happened?"
The locker door burst open again, bashing Mandy squarely in the face. She squalled and reeled backwards, her hands clapping over her mouth and nose as she glared at the door with tears in her eyes. Then she cast her hateful glare back at Connie. A red smear crept out from under her palms. Without another word, she stormed off, trailed by her panicked entourage.
Wide eyes stared from all around Connie, and no one's were wider and more shocked than Jeff's. "Was that you?" he asked in a hush. "Do you have psychic powers?"
"What? No! No, Jeff, I…" Connie hurriedly stuffed her books into her backpack and shut her locker. Then she shut the attacking locker as well, and said, "I need to get to class. I'll see you later."
As she pushed her way down the hall, Jade's voice lilted, "Oh, dear. Some form of localized air pressure differential inside that storage chamber triggered its security seal, resulting in its rather dramatic opening. Twice."
"You shouldn't have done that," Connie murmured under her breath.
Imperiously, Jade retorted, "That preening, lackluster specimen's buffoonery required immediate and percussive rebuttal. At this moment you unfortunately represent my only physical attributes, and I will not suffer insults to any aspect of myself, knowingly or otherwise."
Connie knew that Jade's intervention had been wrong, and that she would regret it later. But it did feel a little good to see the school's prima donna knocked to the ground by the last creature in the world Connie ever thought would defend her honor. And didn't Mandy have a little karma due her way regardless?
Maybe it would be okay.