Part 3 (1/2)

”So what? Other people get upset too,” the new boy said. He was still standing, staring at her. ”That doesn't give you the right to criticize what we were doing. You act like you think you're pretty tough, but you're just as hysterical as any other girl. We don't have to listen to it.”

He was her adversary now, she could tell. And she had done it herself, just as she had done with Blossom. Silently, she cursed herself. It was so stupid, opening her big mouth like that and making him hate her; it was just going to make everything worse. But maybe it wasn't too late. Even though ”hysterical” still rankled, Abigail's recognition had calmed her down to the point where she could swallow her pride. ”I know,” she said. ”I shouldn't have gotten so mad. But it was frustrating. n.o.body seemed to understand how serious this was. But,” and she let her pride sink down to the bottom of her stomach, ”but what you were doing was a good thing, I guess. I'm sorry I said it was stupid. It's,” she sighed, ”it's important to keep people in a good mood.”

The boy grunted, turning from her to the food machine. ”Oh,” she said. ”Did anybody make it work?”

”No,” Blossom said pettishly. ”And n.o.body even wanted to try.”

”Well, I'm ready now,” said the new boy. ”Suddenly I'm starving.”

And they tried. One by one, each of them struggled over the unresponsive screen while the others watched impatiently, growing hungrier and hungrier, waiting and hoping for the whirs and the clicks that would not come. And at last they grew tired of it, and quietly, one by one, they retreated to their respective stairways, Oliver sitting above Peter. They sat for a while, too dispirited to speak; until at last their eyes began to close.

Chapter 7.

When she awoke, Blossom could not remember for a moment where she was. There was a gleaming whiteness, and something sharp pressing painfully into her back. But most strange and disturbing of all was the terrible emptiness inside herself, the emptiness that she could not bear. She had to make the hunger go away.

And then it all came back to her: the blindfold, the stairways, hating Lola, everything. Hating Lola: She clung to that. Hating was so vital, so necessary. It was even her duty duty, in fact, to probe into Lola's odiousness, and to help the others, for their own good, to understand it.

Lola opened her eyes and sat up. ”Mmm,” she said thickly.

Oliver sat up and stretched. ”h.e.l.lo, everybody.” He yawned. ”So we're still here, huh?”

Abigail was still trying to sleep, curled up against the steps, her eyes closed. Peter's eyes were closed too, his chin resting against his chest.

Blossom was beginning to feel something else, almost as uncomfortable as the hunger. It was horrible having to ask Lola for help, but there was really no alternative. ”Uh,” she said. ”Um, I have to-I mean, how do you get to ... you know, what you found ...?”

”Oh, yeah,” Lola said. ”The toilet. I suppose you want to know where it is.”

”Well, you're the only one who knows.”

”Well, okay.” Lola looked around. ”Anybody else want to come?”

”I think I'll stick around and watch over the sleeping beauties here,” said Oliver. ”You can tell me how to get there later. I'll be able to find it. And maybe I'll try to get this thing here working again.”

”Well, come on then,” Lola mumbled, and they started off.

Lola moved quickly. Soon Blossom was out of breath. Her thighs rubbed together stickily, and her skirt, which was beginning to feel dirty, flapped irritatingly around her knees. And Lola was far ahead now, making Blossom feel clumsy and slow.

And then Lola stopped at a landing ahead. She looked from side to side, as if trying to decide which way to go. Blossom hurried to catch up with her. She was panting and her forehead was damp when she reached the landing. Lola still had not moved.

”What's the matter?” Blossom said, gasping for breath. ”Did you already forget where it is?”

”No, I did not not forget,” said Lola, turning to her. ”I'm just trying to decide which is the best way to go. And you can find it yourself if you don't like the way I'm doing it. I'm getting pretty sick of your att.i.tude. Why are you always picking at me? What have you got against me anyway?” forget,” said Lola, turning to her. ”I'm just trying to decide which is the best way to go. And you can find it yourself if you don't like the way I'm doing it. I'm getting pretty sick of your att.i.tude. Why are you always picking at me? What have you got against me anyway?”

”I-” Blossom began. She had to be careful. Now she knew it had been a mistake to make it so obvious to Lola that she hated her. She had to undo that now, for only if Lola trusted her would she have the necessary power over her. ”I just ... when you first came along, you scared me, and you were mean. That's all.”

Lola slapped herself on the forehead and rolled up her eyes. ”You still thinking about that? How long does it take you to forget something stupid like that?”

I never forget, thought Blossom.

”I mean, I already told you, I was just worried about the food,” Lola went on. ”By now you should know the way I talk. It didn't mean anything.” She shook her head. ”You know, we're in a pretty tricky spot as it is. You're just making it worse.”

”I ... I guess you're right,” said Blossom, making an effort to sound contrite. ”I never really meant it, really. I just didn't want you to boss me around.”

”Mmm,” said Lola, her eyes probing. ”Sure that's all it was?”

”Yes,” Blossom nodded quickly, pursing her lips. ”I'm sure.”

”Well, let's hope it's all over with now. I won't stand for much more of it.”

”I ... I know you wouldn't stand for it,” Blossom said softly. ”I guess I was just waiting for you to tell me to stop.”

”Well, now I'm telling you. And I'll tell you something else. Somebody's got to get bossed around here, you better get used to it, because somebody's got to be the leader. If there's no leader, we'll never get anywhere. I'm not saying the leader's gotta be me me, necessarily, but there's gotta be one.”

Now that her breath and her wits were back, Blossom rose to Lola's opening. ”Oh, but I think it should should be you,” Blossom said. ”Who else could be the leader? Not Peter, and not Abigail, and not be you,” Blossom said. ”Who else could be the leader? Not Peter, and not Abigail, and not me me. That just leaves you and Oliver. And, well, Oliver....”

”Yeah?” said Lola. ”Well Oliver what?”

”I just think he's sort of strange,” Blossom said thoughtfully, twisting a ringlet. ”The way he was dancing around like that, singing those stupid songs and things....”

”You looked like you were enjoying it.” Lola was squinting at her suspiciously.

”Well, yesss.” Careful now Careful now, Blossom told herself.

”In fact you were the one who defended him, if I remember it right.”

”But I was still mad at you you then,” said Blossom. ”Now I-” then,” said Blossom. ”Now I-”

”Don't you have to go to the toilet?” said Lola, turning around. ”It's this way.” And she started up the stairs.

Blossom felt like kicking her. She just had had to find something she could use to turn the others against her. to find something she could use to turn the others against her.

Ahead, Lola bent over and picked something up from a step. It looked like a sc.r.a.p of cloth. Lola waited, whistling through her teeth, and she actually turned and smiled at Blossom when she reached her.

”We're almost there now,” Lola said, sounding pleased with herself. ”See this? I tore it off my s.h.i.+rt and left it here yesterday, as a marker.”

”Oh,” said Blossom. It had been a clever thing to do in this confusing place, though it annoyed her to have to acknowledge any virtue in her enemy. Nevertheless, remembering her role, she said, ”That was smart of you. I never would have thought of it.”

”To tell you the truth, I almost didn't myself. In fact-” Watching Blossom's face, Lola's smile quickly faded. ”But I would have found the way without it,” she added, her voice guarded again. ”I'm gonna leave it here for the others.”

She still doesn't trust me, Blossom said to herself, following her upward again. I've got to get her to trust me. But how? I've got to get her to trust me. But how?

And in the end she succeeded, though not without a sacrifice.

The toilet, as Lola had said, was on a narrow bridge, just a small round hole filled with water, flus.h.i.+ng constantly. It was difficult to get to, even more difficult for Blossom to drink from it, and then squat there, teetering and clutching at the bridge, while she used it. And embarra.s.sing; for though Lola seemed to be staring politely off in the other direction, when Blossom looked back at her to check she was almost sure she saw Lola quickly turning away, a smirk on her face, as though she had been watching her and laughing. It was infuriating. And when she herself, overcoming her natural repugnance in order to pay Lola back, turned to spy on her her sitting there, Lola just waved and cried out, ”Enjoying the view?” sitting there, Lola just waved and cried out, ”Enjoying the view?”