Page 4 of Jade

“It’s not too much,” Baze countered. “It’s what I should have done in the beginning.”

“But a computer? I don’t need that. Not really.”

“We don’t have a gaming system so you’ll need it to play video games,” he explained. “But aside from that, you’re eleven now, and eleven-year-old girls must do schoolwork and grow their minds.”

Her mouth dropped open. Having to do schoolwork was one thing she hadn’t considered. She’d graduated high school already, unlike some of her friends. What kind of schooling was Baze planning to make her do? She started to ask but was interrupted by Chef Graham announcing that he needed the cafeteria cleared out so he could get it cleaned up before the dinner service. Glancing around, she noticed that everyone aside from Baze and her friends were long gone and the lunch hour had ended a long time ago.

“C’mon girls. Everyone grab a bag of stuff. Let’s get this all upstairs so we can help Jade get her new room set up. If you do a good job, I might even let you stay up past bedtime to watch a movie.”

His bribe was met with exuberant cheers as her friends rushed to do as they were told. Jade started grabbing gifts herself and loading them into gift bags, condensing the haul as much as she could.

She was the last one out of the cafeteria, with Baze right beside her carrying the box that held the desk with one arm, and the leftover cake with another. He’d flung the bean bag chair over his shoulder.

“So, Jade, did you have a happy eleventh birthday? Did we do good?”

“You did the best!” Jade exclaimed, raising herself up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. “More than I could have ever asked for and certainly more than I expected.” She giggled. “I’d have just been happy with the panties.”

“Eleven-year-old girls need more than just panties. It was the least I could do.”

Jade still felt like it was too much but she knew better than to argue that point with Baze. “I still feel bad. You already gave me so much and the other girls didn’t get extra stuff.”

“Are you kidding me?” Baze scoffed. “They’re going to have a field day fighting over all the stuff you are getting rid of. I’m pretty sure Mariah already called dibs on several things.”

Jade had to laugh at that—it sounded so much like Mariah. And it made her feel better. Her friends would be getting new things too.

They walked slowly but eventually made it to the elevator where the rest of the girls had gathered, waiting.

“Happy Birthday, Jade!” they cried again when they saw her.

They clambered onto the elevator and squished in with Mariah leaning her head on Jade’s shoulder.

“Jade?” she whispered, so quietly Jade almost didn’t hear.

“Yeah?”

“I’m really glad you had the courage to tell us who you really were and to choose to live as your authentic self. That’s really brave, and I really admire you for that. I just wanted you to know.”

Jade pressed her fingers to her eyes as the tears that she’d been holding at bay all day welled up.

“Thank you, Mariah,” she replied with a choked whisper, throwing her arms around her friend. “I really needed to hear that. Love you.”

“Love you too,” Mariah responded, squeezing back. “Just promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“That you won’t decide you’re too cool for us now that you’re eleven.”

“Never, ever,” Jade promised. And she meant it.

Chapter Three

Ryan

After lunch, Ryan liked to walk either the strip or the halls of Utopia to try and get his steps in. It was also the busiest time of day at Utopia and he found many opportunities to people-watch or even to stop and chat with whoever was milling about.

He never walked the same route twice, and he always found interesting and new things on his way, whether it was a room he hadn’t noticed, a courtyard garden he hadn’t explored or just Littles having fun. Today, he walked down the conference hall, past the chapel, wondering what Baze’s plans were for the massive conference area with all its rooms and halls, when he heard music coming from one of the rooms. With a smile, he stopped to listen, chuckling when he heard singing. He didn’t recognize the song, and the lyrics seemed a little harsh. He first thought it must be one of the construction crew, until he realized the voice was definitely feminine.

Curious, he stopped in his tracks and cocked his head as he listened. After a lengthy instrumental in which he could just picture the listener playing a mean air guitar or pounding away on an imaginary drum set, a litany of harsh and inappropriate words in the chorus made his blood run cold. Maybe he was old school, but Ryan believed that music was powerful and that the music you listened to could affect you to the very core of your soul. He wasn’t a fuddy-duddy, gospel-music-only type like so many of the preachers he’d grown up around, but he also thought that music should be happy and uplifting. This was anything but.