As she turned in the ornate gold mirror in her bedroom of the townhouse, as she looked at the simple pale lavender dress she’d chosen to wear for that night’s dinner, she wondered if her father would be proud of her. Would he wish that she had married already and started producing children like any good Everton woman would do?
No, she knew. He’d always known her views on that. While Eve craved love, companionship, mutual respect in a partner, she never liked the strict path expected of Everton women. She wouldn’t marry for the sake of marrying or have children if she wasn’t ready.
Eve was blessed that her father had been wealthy and well-respected among society, which gave her freedom from having to attach herself to a man after he died.
But even at 25, she was starting to feel a little hopeless that she would ever find anyone.
The melodic, mechanical chime of the doorbell rang through Eve’s residence. Her father had bought it from a collector who specialized in Old Earth luxury items because he liked the sound it made. He’d heard doorbells in old films and had been an avid collector of them since, changing out the chimes every once in a while in their townhouse. Eve walked over to the panel next to her bedroom door and tapped the glowing screen to show a video feed of the front door.
Genni stood there, busy tapping away at the Nu device wrapped around her left wrist. Her only friend’s head snapped up when Eve allowed her entry by inputting the authorization code.
Eve took one last look in the mirror and then departed from the room, before descending the first set of stairs to reach the bottom landing. Her bedroom occupied the middle floor. The top floor had been her father’s and she’d rarely ventured upstairs since his death.
“Please tell me you just haven’t changed yet,” Genni said, wearing a short lime green dress that reached her mid-thigh and molded to her willowy, slim figure. When she turned slightly, Eve saw that the back dipped low, exposing her flawless skin.
Eve sighed inwardly. She’d known Genni wouldn’t have approved of her conservative lavender dress that reached her knees. The straps were thin, baring her shoulders, and that was about as daring as Eve got. To dress it up, she wore a silver, ornate choker and platform heels that she worried she’d trip in once they reached Prince Avenue.
But instead of reacting to Genni’s words—which was, no doubt, what her friend desired—Eve smiled and leaned forward to give her a brief embrace, followed by three kisses from cheek-to-cheek. An intimate greeting reserved only for close friends and extended family. Acquaintances would only receive one kiss and no embrace.
Genni sighed, taking her silence as answer enough. Then she shook off her disappointment in Eve’s dinner attire and smiled broadly, “Happy birthday, Evelyn. I should’ve started with that, shouldn’t I have?”
“Probably,” Eve said, “but I forgive you.”
“As always,” Genni said before linking arms with her and dragging her to the front door. “I checked the schedule on my Nu and the tram is coming in five minutes, so let’s hurry.”
After locking up, they hurried down the main drag of the Garden District. It was quiet. The Garden District was a wealthier neighborhood, far away from Princes Avenue and the rowdiness of Everton’s Night District.
The sky had already darkened into evening and even displayed bright constellations. It was all programmed, of course, but Eve had always wondered what the real sky back on Earth would’ve looked like. What had the ancient civilizations seen that she had read so much about? Had it truly been as blue as the Programmers made it during the day on Everton?
They reached the tram stop with a minute to spare and Eve listened to Genni happily chatter about her day working. She was a beautician in the Market District and she told Eve about a client that had come in earlier to dye her hairpink, of all things. While Everton residents loved bright colors in clothing attire, only two shades of hair color were seen as truly fashionable and those were blonde and blonder.
Eve had black hair. She’d been doomed from the start of ever truly fitting in on Everton.
Genni’s golden hair gleamed under the tram stop lights, which didn’t go unnoticed by a couple of men present. Eve watched discreetly as one pair of eyes slid to her friend’s hand, no doubt searching for the marriage mark. When he found none, his eyes slid over her body, clad in lime green. His eyes darted to Eve’s and his lips pursed at being caught, but his gaze held none of the desire he’d had for Genni. Only brief annoyance.
A bright flashing light signaled the tram’s arrival and it slid to a stop silently, allowing passengers exit and entry. Genni and Eve snagged two seats in the brightly lit compartment, away from the two men who had been eyeing her friend, thankfully, and then the tram slid into smooth motion once more.
“He’s handsome, isn’t he?” Genni asked softly, referring to the man who’d been watching her.
“He was eyeing you like a prized mare,” Eve informed her, just as quietly.
“Maybe I want to be a prized mare,” was all Genni replied. “Mares are expensive. And I want to be expensive.”
Eve said nothing. Genni was a year younger than her, but 24 and unmarried was still a black mark against her friend, even though she had the classic look of an Everton beauty: golden hair, an ethereal, slim figure, and bright blue eyes.
Genni had a reputation, the kind of reputation that respectable men didn’t want for their equally respectable future wife.
They were both outcasts in a way, for two very opposite reasons.
The tram slid into the Prince Avenue station a short while later. When they stepped out from the quiet compartment, they were immediately assaulted with the noise and music of the Night District. The music spilling out from the dance clubs they passed was the screeching, thumping kind that was so popular amongst the younger crowd, but that made Eve cringe.
Being in the Night District made her nervous and on edge. The loud sounds, the press of drunken people, and the overpowering stench of alcohol and smoke from thenuvetpipes made Eve claustrophobic and sweaty.
She stumbled in her platform heels when a drunk girl, no older than sixteen, crashed into her. The girl didn’t apologize, just laughed loudly, not only drunk but high, it seemed. Genni pushed her away, glaring, before pulling Eve further down the Avenue.
“Stupid bitch,” Genni grumbled under her breath.
The farther away from the tram station, the quieter it became and Eve suddenly felt like she could breathe again, savoring the cool breeze that brushed over her shoulders. It always amazed her, being in the Night District, witnessing the drunken debauchery that Everton’s young socialites always looked down their noses on. But Eve knew those same socialites had frequented the Night District in their schooling days and had done worse things.
