Millie and I both turn around to see the boy from the market. My eyes find his soft blue ones almost instantly and my words get stuck in the back of my throat. Millie takes a step back, unable to feel so short in comparison to his towering height. He stands probably around six-foot-one, while both Millie and I are around five-foot-seven.

I force a smile and pull on a façade of confidence typically only acheivable by my sister. "Well, I feel like I've come in late to the game. If I had known that we were giving each other nicknames, I would've given it some thought and come up with one by now." He laughs and the smile that forms is so genuine that it sends butterflies through my stomach.

When his laughter dies down, I clear my throat quietly to gain my focus again and turn to Millie. "Anyway, yes, this is my sister."

Millie meets my eyes and the surprise there almost breaks all control over the situation I have. The look she gives me is basically projecting her words. What the hell was that?! I tilt my head to the side and she takes my hint to shake it off and that we'd talk about it later.

She turns and looks at Market Boy and her usual confident self is back on top and standing tall. "It's nice to meet the man that decided to intrude on my sister's practice hour and silently watch her while she had no idea." A pretty smile lands on her face and she continues to look at him.

My once was perfect façade, shatters and my lips are parted in shock as I turn and look at Millie. For a few short seconds, the three of us are silent, Market Boy and I just staring at Millie as she looks on at him.

Shortly after the silence begins, Millie starts to giggle and places a small hand over her mouth. Market Boy and I slowly start to force chuckles into the void here and there, waiting for Millie to gain her composer. Her giggling stops just as suddenly as it started and she clasps her hands in front of her, a smile once again resting on her face.

"I was only joking. Anyway, it was nice to meet you, but as sad as it must be, we really should be going back home to be ready for tea with our neighbors." She nods in his direction and links her arm through mine, pulling me along with her as she leaves. I completely forgot that Mother and Father arranged tea for today to talk about the recital next week.

I was shocked into silence and it takes half a block to find the strength to turn around while walking and look back to where he is still standing. He puts his left hand in a pocket of his black jeans and gives me a small wave with his right. A small smile comes to my face and I turn back in the direction Millie is dragging me.

We turn a corner and Millie turns on me, a cold look on her face. "What the hell was that, Adaline?" Her arms are crossed and I pull back slightly.

"What do you mean? I should be the one upset, I mean, c'mon Millie! We were talking, you can't just end the conversation for me then drag me away." I cross my arms now and give her the same look she gives me.

"No, you shouldn't be upset. In fact, you should be thanking me! You complained about this forming drama between you and these two guys on multiple accounts, then you run into one of them. You don't act like you just did if you want to forget about them like you say you do." I try to speak and when I can't, Millie raises a brow and waits for what I have to say.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, we were just holding conversation up until the point that you ended said conversation." My hands find my hips and I roll my shoulders, trying to shake some of the stiffness out.

"Ada! I'm not stupid, I know what flirting looks like. But you know what's funny about that, we shouldn't be able to know what that looks like, we should really only be able to know the concept of it, you want to know why? Because we're betrothed the second we're born, we have no choice but to be with who we're told. Something of which you have been talking about almost non-stop for the past week." Millie sighs and holds one of her temples.

"Ada, I know you understand what I'm saying, because you tell this all to me, all the time. So why would you go and do what you just did? All it does it hurt you in the end. You have feelings for Lincoln, he's been your best friend forever. You seem to have a bit of a crush on this mystery guy, but I can't really blame you, he's pretty good looking." Millie hesitates when she hears what she said and she looks down at the ground. "Damnit, I'm not helping myself. Anyway, you know what I'm trying to get at, so just push all this to the back of your mind. Okay?"

I sigh at all she said, knowing I've said it all myself multiple times and my hands drop to their sides. "Okay." I hold my arm out to her and she links our arms once again.

"Now, you just need to try to enjoy your last week of being alone and without ties other than your family." I nod silently and spiral into my mind.

She's right, I know she is. After today I will only have five short days left to myself and after that, I'll belong to somebody else and own that other person. We will be each other's and it will be that way for the rest of our lives. Whether long and changed after The Trial or short and unfruitful during The Purge.

The thought of The Purge and all the death that it brings send shivers down my back, gooseflesh covers my skin, and a chilled sensation covers my body. I'm a twenty-second, I'm not treated the best and I won't be receiving a lot of help during The Trial. But I can't even imagine what it would be like for those who have numbers in the thirties and beyond. I haven't met anybody with such a number, but based on how people look at me with my number, I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of looks if I had a higher number.

Pain shoots up my arm and I have to take a step back in order to stop the increase of intensity. I turn to Millie and glare at her. "Why would you do that?"

Millie points to her right and I look over to see our house standing in its place in the long line of identical homes. I nod and give her an apologetic look. "Ah." She rolls her eyes and begins to walk up the stairs on the porch, heading for the door without looking back to where I still stand.

I heave a sigh and ascend the stairs, already tired of the day and ready to hide myself in my room and sleep for the rest of eternity. Sadly, I know that I will have to smile while in front of anyone else and go about my last free week like planned.

I close the door behind me and Mother's voice finds my ears before I've even had the chance to take off my shoes. "Adaline! Get in the kitchen right now, we must speak before tea." Here comes the boot crashing down above me, itching to squash me right when I think that things can't get worse.

I silently walk into the kitchen and smile at Mother, hiding the defeat that rests inside. "Yes, Mother?" I clasp my hands together in front of my skirt.

Mother turns from the sink and crosses her arms in front of her and gives me a dirty look. "Did you really think that you could leave the house in what you are wearing?" Her question sends me reeling and I take a step back.

"Sorry, what?" I raise a brow at her and she huffs.

"Adaline. Jewel. Look at yourself, you will be meeting Mr. Wilson in less than a week and you still insist on dressing like a harlot." My mouth drops open and I look down at my knee length pencil skirt. My eyes then travel up to my shirt with its embroidered flowers.

I lock gazes with Mother once again and have to bite my tongue to hold back everything I wish to say. "I'm sorry, Mother. You used to tell me I looked very grown up and sophisticated in this outfit. You did make it for me, so I didn't realize you were no longer fond of it."

My gaze is unfocused down the line of my nose and I refuse to look into her eyes and give her what she wants. I take deep, labored breaths to contain my anger and clench my fists, my nails digging into my palms.

Mother scoffs and throws a hand into the air. "Well, I don't like it anymore. But of course, you've already left the house in it and people have seen you so there is no point in changing. Just don't make the same mistake again." She dismisses me and I turn to look at the clock.

"I'm going to take Millie and we will be over at the Fields' helping set up for tea since they don't have Lincoln to help today." Before she can stop me, I leave the kitchen. I walk into the living room where Millie is seated with a book in her hand.

When I enter the room, Millie looks up and I give her a look before nodding my head toward the door. She bobs her head in acknowledgment and walks to the door. Before heading for the door myself, I take a step and kneel next to Father's chair. He sits with a book, much like Millie had but with his glasses seated low on his nose.

"I hope I didn't upset you with my clothing as much as I did Mother." Father turns and his sad eyes find mine.

He gives me a small smile and cups my cheek with a cold hand. His eyes move to look behind me, checking to make sure Mother isn't in hearing distance then lowers his voice. "Adaline, dear, I think you look beautiful. I think that your Mother is just upset that you will be spending so much less time with us after your birthday. Then after The Trial, even less time. She just misses you already." Father smiles then leans forward and kisses my forehead.

"Thank you, Father." I stand and walk over to where Millie stands, waiting at the door. I slip my white flats on and open the door, hesitating to leave, knowing that the person I wish to talk to the most isn't there.

Millie and I walk the short distance to their house and up their porch. Millie knocks on the door and steps away from the door. Luckily, to both of our reliefs, the person that opens the door is a sweet face with a smile spread across it.

Clara stands in the opening to the house and both Millie and I relax and smile at her. "I'm so glad you're here! It is so lonely in this house with Lincoln busy with Eve." As soon as the words are out of her mouth both Millie and I cringe. Though the reasons for the reaction are complete opposites.

Millie looks at me with pain in her eyes. In less than a week, she will be in the same situation as Clara. I'll be spending so much of my time with August and we'll rarely see each other after that because I'll be practicing for recitals, training for The Trial, and the rest of my time will be spent with August.

I try to hide most of the pain from my eyes. The fact that Lincoln isn't here shouldn't hurt me so much, I know this, but I can't help the instant sadness that grips me. We grew up together and I'd like to think that this pain comes from the friendship that we have grown for the past seventeen years. But when I think about how he's spending all of his time with Eve because she is his betrothed, a sense of jealousy so strong grips me and I feel like being alone.

I clear my throat and look back at Clara. "Let's head back to go set up." Clara nods and lets us into the house and leads to the back where we were the day before and almost every day before that.

The three of us start to set up the yard without thinking and a thought comes to mind. "Clara, I don't think I've ever asked you. How do you like Eve? Surely you have an opinion of her." I look over at the young girl and she gives me a huge smile.

"Well, I don't think that Lincoln knows this yet, but Eve told me that she wants to be a children's writer. Her parents are pressuring her to go into YA our non-fiction because there are more options there. She let me read one of her manuscripts for one of her books she's written already and I think that she would be a really good children's writer. I actually like her a lot. At first, I was really scared for Lincoln to meet her because I didn't want her to like, be rude or anything, but she is really great." Clara gushes over Eve and again everything I've heard is nothing but great things.

I'll finally be meeting her after my recital. Originally, I thought that it was odd that Mother insisted on the Fields coming to it given that I'm not betrothed to Lincoln and most meetings are fairly private. But she insisted that they just had to come, she then proceeded to invite the Summers family. So instead of the traditional way of just the two families meeting, there will be four families there. Which means more people, more stress, more practice.

"Ada?" I look up and push my thoughts aside. I meet Millie's eyes and she looks down at my hands. My gaze follows hers and I can see that I'm gripping the fold-up chair in my hands so tightly that my knuckles have gone white. "Are you okay?"

I shake my head and take a deep breath. "Sorry, I'm just stressing about my recital and meeting August." Both Millie and Clara nod like they understand and continue to set the last bit up. I set the chair down and walk over to look at the clock, wishing for it to slow and eventually stop, delaying the inevitable. But to my known disappointment, it continues to tick without a care in the world.

"Ada?" Clara's voice grabs my attention and I spin around to look at her.

"Yes?" I look down at her and give her a forced smile.

"I forgot to tell you, but I love your outfit. You look very cute." Clara's sweet voice eases the stiffness in my cheeks and the smile on my face is no longer faked.

"I'm glad somebody thinks so." I turn to the direction of the side door, expecting the parents to come walking into the area.

"What do you mean?" Her brow furrows and I chuckle.

I wave a hand in the air dismissing the question. "It's nothing, Clara."

After my dismissal, Clara looks at Millie knowing that she isn't shy about sharing what happens. "Mother said she looked like a five-cent whore."

Clara's eyebrows shoot up and her jaw drops. "No!" She meets my eyes and reaches out to grab my hand. I take her hand in mine and give her a smile.

"It really doesn't bother me, Clara. My Mother is a very peculiar woman, she will like something one day then hate it the next. It is a curse of the job, I suppose." I cup her cheek and smile down at her. She feels like another sister to me in the time that we have been together.

"Now Adaline, that is no way to speak of your mother." I draw away from Clara and spin to look towards the side door to see four adults walking, or stumbling down the path while leaning against the support of the others.

There are times like these where the parents would go wherever it is that they do and drink until they were looking at the empty bottom of a bottle. What it was they were drinking, or why they thought they needed to gain a little courage, I have no idea. All I know is that the combination of the four of them alone almost always ends badly. Father is the only one who seems to be able to hold himself on his own every day. I would assume that he can either hold his liquor better than the others, or he just refused to drink too much, maybe even both.

"Mother, I meant no ill speak, of course. I only meant that I understand why your opinion of my clothing would change." My gaze moves over to the two adults that I've known from next door. I dip into a small curtsy and drop my gaze. "Mr. and Mrs. Fields." I stand but keep my gaze down.

"Adaline, it's wonderful to see you." Mrs. Fields' voice is light but slightly slurred from whatever it is the four of them consulted before coming out here.

I refuse to look up at the four of them because I can feel Mr. Fields' eyes running down my body. I can sense Clara stiffen beside me, she can see what Mr. Fields refuses to hide. My stomach plummets and I can taste the bile coming up my throat.

I look up and focus my gaze on Father. "May I go home early, I don't feel well. I wish I could stay, I just feel very under the weather currently." I plead with my eyes and hope that he will relieve me.

Father's eyes soften and he nods. "Of course, Adaline. We'll see you when we get home." I silently thank him with my eyes and quickly walk back to the house.