I wasn't sure what to say to him. I meant to lock him from my heart. He was a traitor to the country. He was a criminal. I put myself and my family in danger simply by association. He had to know the danger he'd put me in. Yet, he'd told me about his rebellion and made me an accomplice. He didn't deserve my affections. He didn't deserve my silence, but that I gave to him. He'd get nothing more from me.

And yet, that meek little voice wanted nothing more than to call out to him, to apologize. I wanted to beg him to abandon his treasons so that I could be with him once more, but he wouldn't.

I thought of that spiral notebook he'd brought me, the gorgeous cover in my favorite color. Why had he bothered to not only check on me, but to buy me a brand new notebook? That much I needed to know.

Mindful of my family in the kitchen, I opened the front door, holding out a hand so that Ander wouldn't leave. After mentally counting to thirty, I slammed the door shut. My parents undoubtedly heard that. I motioned for Ander to follow me quietly up the stairs.

He'd never been to my house. I'd never allowed it. Our rendezvous had always taken place where we knew we couldn't be caught. Sometimes in a locked closet during a bustling night on campus, sometimes at Ander's house when he was certain his family wouldn't be home. Never my house. It was too frequently occupied, and I was petrified Dad would find out. It was strange having Ander in my room.

I watched him survey everything, from the white curtains drawn tightly shut, to the posters of Carthowa Campus and the Patrione.

"Hot in here." Ander flipped on my large fan, cranking it to its highest setting, despite the low climate of my bedroom. He rolled his eyes at my orange Trujohn flag. The only thing in my room Ander seemed to approve of was my vast shelf of history books. He surveyed it for several moments before raising an eyebrow. "Nothing from the Before, of course."

I didn't answer. Of course none of them were from the Before. Books from the Before were banned. All that hadn't been taken into the Great Father's personal library had been burned.

Ander smirked at a tiny pair of boxer shorts on the floor. "I take it those aren't yours?"

I wrinkled my nose. "I had my room confiscated. Toddlers aren't particularly tidy. I'm just glad Jim hasn't completely trashed the place."

He shrugged and continued to scan my room.

My agitation quickly grew. Him studying everything I owned... I felt exposed. What the hell is he doing?

When he moved to open one of my drawers I lost it. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Ander stepped back quickly, hands in the air. "Sorry. Probably personal. But come on, Jeaniboo, you know why I'm here."

"Don't call me Jeaniboo." It had been his pet name for me. Now he was saying it as if we were still together. "And no. I don't. If you're not revealing me to my family, I can't think of a single reason why the fuck you'd be here."

He stared at me for a moment. It seemed he truly expected me to know why he was in my house. "How about you weren't answering my instatexts and you refused to call me back and I needed to know you were okay."

"Of course I'm okay," I grumbled. "Didn't it occur to you that I was ignoring your instatexts because you're a dick springing shit on me?"

"Yes, it did," Ander admitted, far calmer than I was. "But it also occurred to me that you might have been taken or attacked or something, and it would have been my fault for not insisting on driving you home."

"I was fine," I snapped. "Instead of jumping to crazy what-ifs you could just assume I was fine."

"I can't assume anything of the sort," he argued. "You've seen the news. There's kidnappings every day. On average there are forty plus men, woman, or children kidnapped or assaulted on a daily basis. The highest percentage by far are young women. I wasn't going to take the chance and just hope you were okay when I had no clue how else to verify."

"Why do you even care so much?" I grunted, crossing my arms as I plopped onto the foot of my bed.

Ander tilted his head as if confused by my question. "Because I love you. Because you're my girlfriend and I care about your safety. One big fight isn't going to make me stop caring whether or not you're okay."

I wanted to refute his claim. I wanted to say that one fight was more than enough to make feelings die, but his eyebrows furrowed with worry seemed to prevent the words from leaving my throat. "Yeah, well, that doesn't give you an excuse to drop in at my house without a warning."

"Jeanie, I gave you a warning," Ander replied. "I instatexted that if you weren't answering I'd come to your house. If you'd responded with even one word I wouldn't have come."

Oh! I recalled shutting off my phone, annoyed by Ander's constant instatexts. Maybe his coming here really wasn't such a violation? But he was still a rebel. I wouldn't be lured back into his arms. "You make it sound like all men are monsters. They're not."

"I know they aren't. There are women at fault too. And the majority of men aren't bad. But enough are that it's a problem," Ander sighed, running his hand through his hair. "And in most cases, it's not even the fault of those men. It's that of the society. Trujohn's ideas of gender practically encourages assault. While teaching women to let men walk over them, the Patri tells men to be dominating, to do whatever they want, take whatever they want. Men grow up hearing that if they aren't strong and can't get laid they aren't a man."

I rolled my eyes, in no mood for a lecture. "That explains your behavior whenever we got some alone time, huh?"

Liar. Deflector, the meek voice accused. Ander has never been anything but respectful and patient with boundaries.

"Oh no." Ander shook his head, trying to meet my eyes. "That was just 'cause I had a girlfriend who's positively radiant."

Radiant? My inner sap practically swooned. Thankfully I had enough dignity to hold my ground. "And why haven't you fallen victim to this societal agenda?"

"I probably would have," Ander admitted, very hesitantly taking a seat on the edge of my bed, "if it wasn't for my grandpa. My dad's side rarely gave into society. All because my great-great-great... My great-times-six-grandpa salvaged a box of books from the Before. Grandpa knew Dad wasn't one for reading, so he gave the books to me. Anyone caught with them would be arrested, but generations of Marcs have guarded that box, passing it down from generation to generation."

Though I resisted, curiosity got the best of me. "And these books said that Trujohn is evil?"

"No... but they showed tiny glimpses of an alternative," Ander answered, forehead creased. "They make you wonder if this is all there is, and if it could be better. They made me ask myself whether or not this is the best world possible."

"And?" I doubted anything could be better than Trujohn-Fatherland. Here, every citizen had the potential to do something meaningful. Here, everyone had a chance to serve the Great Father.

"Honestly? I don't know. I don't know if it can be better." Ander's voice was soft, stripped clean of its typical bravado. "But I refuse to believe that this is all there is. I just can't accept that. I need to find more. But that need... I almost left you because of it."

More reason for me to hate it.

"It was when I was certain that I'd never leave the Midlands. I was sure that no one from our graduating class would be chosen to leave," he continued, not waiting for me to speak. "You know it was always my dream to go to Eastland, but that was because I knew that whatever citizen chosen to represent Trujohn during the Congregation would be a grad-student from an Eastland college. I wanted it to be me, not just to make a difference, but so I can prove to myself that there's more than this. My odds of actually getting picked were next to none, but I didn't want my chance eliminated simply because I lived in the Midlands."

"And explain how I'm to blame for this?" I grumped.

"When you were named Summa Cum Laude I was so sure I'd never get chosen to leave—no one from our class would," Ander explained. "What Eastland admissions scout would select a Midlander who'd been outranked by a Learned Female? I wanted to blame you for trapping me in this place."

I remained silent. It shouldn't bother me that he was mad at me when I was furious at him. And I shouldn't need to defend myself for something I didn't have any jurisdiction over.

"But I realized," he continued, "that I couldn't blame you. If I hated you for being smarter than me I'd be no better than any of those sexist people I condemn. Besides, it was your brain that attracted me to you in the first place. I'd known I loved you for a long time, but it wasn't until I realized I loved you more than I wanted to go to Eastland did I realize how much."

"So you're giving up on going?" I couldn't imagine that. As long as I'd known Ander, he'd wanted nothing more than to leave. He'd never before explained how deep that need went, but I knew most of his actions were driven by his ambition. From kissing up to Dr. Ervin to volunteering on campus, everything was to increase his chances.

"Not quite." Ander shrugged. "I wasn't going to give up. I just worked harder. That's why I took that job for Ervin, hoping to earn brownie points."

I didn't bother to reply. Ander did all this, serving the headmaster, dreaming of working in Eastland, but all the while he was plotting against the Fatherland.

"Jeanie, can I ask you something?" He cast me a hesitant, imploring look, eyebrows raised in question.

"I suppose I can't stop you," I grumbled. Not like you have a problem with telling me things I don't want to hear.

He bit his lip, staring at my faded-yellow carpet. "It's just... when I was trying to get a hold of you and you were ignoring all my instatexts, did you even consider responding? Or were you perfectly content to never hear from me again?"

I sighed, debating whether or not to be honest. What did it matter? For once that mewling voice won out. "I did. I wanted to. Well, part of me did. You'll think I'm crazy, but it's like there's two voices in my head. One wanted to forgive you and the other wanted to denounce you to the Patri. In the end I decided to just ignore you."

Ander smirked. "Intellectual Jeanie Bennett hears voices?"

I almost laughed. "I said you'd think I'm crazy."

"I don't." He shook his head, still grinning like an idiot. "It's kind of cool you have two different points of view. You should name them."

"Name what?" I snorted.

"The voices." Ander looked at me as though having voices was less odd than my not having named them.

I rolled my eyes, a smile pulling strongly on the corners of my lips. "Knock yourself out."

"Hold on! Got to think of something good." He made an exaggerated show of scrunching up his face in thought. "You should call the nice one Andi. Name her after me."

It was impossible to resist a genuine smile at that. "What makes you say it's a girl?"

Ander shrugged. "That's the one that likes me. Your voices are arguing, one's more forgiving and open to new ideas. The other is loyal to the traditional Trujohnese mindset. Andi's a girl 'cause I hope that one's closer to your actual opinions."

"And the other one?" I raised an eyebrow.

"See, I hope that one's not really you," he admitted. "It's the one that wanted to keep you away from me. It's the one influenced by the Patri. You should name it Ross."

"Ross?" I snorted out loud. "You want me to name the voice in my head after Doctor Ervin?"

Ander cackled with glee. "Why not? He's bossy and obnoxious and grumpy. Sounds about right."

"Whatever you say." I shook my head in disbelief. Somehow my will to stay angry with Ander had vanished. The moody voice... Ross... had fallen silent. Joking around with him like this... it was just so natural. It made it so easy to forget our fight. I looked at him.

He was laughing loudly, his mouth in a wide, open grin. His unruly hair fell into his face, almost completely concealing his cheerful eyes. After a moment he turned to me, tilting his head. "What? Do I have something in my teeth or something? Why you staring?"

"Just," I searched for a word, "just thinking."

"About?" He scooted closer. Or maybe I did.

"You," I admitted, heat creeping into my neck. How did we end up so close? I could practically feel his breath fluttering across my face.

"About forgiving me?" He raised both eyebrows, his single dimple making an appearance.

"Maybe." What was I mad about again?

Ander slipped my hand into mine, and for some reason, I didn't pull away. He met my eyes, sincere. "Jeanie, I know I shouldn't have sprung anything like that on you. I'm sorry. I was just hoping to share something important to me with you. But if you don't want it, don't have anything to do with it. I'm not going to force you. Just please, don't let this be a reason to ruin what we have. We have a real relationship, Jeanie. That's more than almost everyone in Trujohn. Forgive me?"

I swallowed, a stupid, girlish blush flying to my cheeks. Damn it. Why the hell did he have to be so damn charming? "Um..."

"Please, Jeanie. I didn't come here to win you back. But I am here. Please, forgive me." Ander leaned closer, but paused, waiting. His wide eyes asked permission, approval, a sign that I wanted him to move closer. And holy shit, I do.

I thought of my family downstairs, of the father I'd disappointed. His face when Ander insulted him had been utterly priceless. I'd never heard Ander speak so harshly to anyone... and it had all been in my honor.

My eyes must have trailed to the shut door, reflecting my thoughts because Ander squeezed my hand. "Hey, don't worry about them, okay? You don't need to impress anyone. But if it helps, you impress me every day." He turned my hand over, my palm facing the ceiling. Ander brushed his fingers against the Mark on my wrist, leaning down to ever-so-lightly kiss the tattoo. "I love you all the more because you have this."

Oh, fuck it. I gave up fighting it. I hardly remembered why I'd been mad. Ander didn't expect me to be perfect. He didn't expect me to be anything that I didn't want to. I couldn't disappoint him. I met his gaze, butterflies dancing in my stomach as I brought my lips to his.

I missed you, Ander. My softer voice, Andi, purred with delight, practically dancing through my mind.

His lips curled against mine, warm arms circling around my waist. He pulled me closer, until my chest rested against his.

That was when the door swung open.

((Forgiveness... Jeanie's bitterness could only last so long. Ander's not just a charming people-person, but I bit of a dork, naming voices.

Do you think Jeanie should have forgiven him?

Who do you think is at the door?

Dedications

Xenoblast : I know you won't be here for awhile, but I'm very grateful for all your advice. I hope you're enjoying.

&

Rainbow_Star20045 : thank you so much for your feedback! Your comments make me smile.