“Please raise your arms,” a voice piped in through her biochip.
Gemma obeyed, and the screens scanned her body. They showed her fat percentage in relation to her muscle mass; her height and weight; her body’s oxygen and carbon dioxide percentages. It even showed how many red blood cells she had circulating in her system.
The screen turned green. Gemma shut her eyes, taking a deep breath.
She’d passed.
Breakfast contained no more than eggs, juice, and some type of meat, but given that real meat and eggs were hard to come by on Reva, every contestant ate multiple servings, Gemma included.
She had to admit, the food was delicious. No matter how many bad things she’d heard about Zion, no one ever mentioned terrible food. She now knew why. It was delectable.
A food tray slammed onto the table, and svelte curves plopped into the chair opposite Gemma.
The girl she’d trekked with across Reva held up the wrist Gemma had bandaged. “I never did thank you for this, did I?”
“Not properly.”
The girl rolled her eyes and huffed. “Fine then. Thank—” She pretended to cough. “Oh no, I can’t do it.”
“Figured as much.” Gemma popped another bite of food into her mouth, then her tray was yanked away. “Seriously?”
“What? You got the last piece of sweet bread. I’m taking half of it.”
Gemma glared at her as the girl shoved half of the pastry into her mouth and grinned.
Gemma put down her fork, sighing. “Look, whatever your name—”
“Imara.”
“Right.” Gemma ran her tongue across her teeth. “Look, Imara, I don’t know what your problem is with me, but I’d really appreciate it if you’d leave me alone. Call it even for wrapping your wrist.”
“No.” Imara swiveled in her chair, crossing one long leg over the other. “You’re gonna be my ally.”
If she’d had anything in her mouth, Gemma would’ve spit it out. “I’m sorry. Why exactly would I do that?”
“Because look at the number of women in this place. There’s, like, what? Two guys to every one of us? When push comes to shove, they pick each other every time. So, you need someone to watch your back, and I need someone to watch mine.”
Gemma leaned backward and crossed her arms over her chest. Imara had a point. They didn’t know what tests they would be expected to pass and, while Gemma had a basic idea thanks to the Dissent, the trials were different every year.
It was what made Rami so good at what he did. He was ingenious, crafty, and brutal. Every year, the Trials had gotten harder and harder to pass. And if there came a time when they were expected to team up,Gemma knew she looked like she didn’t offer much. She would easily be passed over.
Maybe a partner wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
“What makes you think I want you as my partner, though?” Gemma asked.
Imara smirked. “Because I’m not afraid to do whatever it takes to win.”
Gemma both liked and feared the way she’d stressed the word 'whatever.'
Imara could turn on her when it suited her. In fact, Gemma wouldn’t put it past her.
But Imara might also be an excellent ally in achieving her purpose. If Imara helped her get close to Rami...
“All right,” Gemma said. “You’ve got a deal.”
“And my sixth favorite sex position is—”
The doors to the dormitory blew open, cutting Imara off mid-sentence. Gemma sighed in relief. If one more mental picture of Imara having sex popped into her mind, she was going to gouge her eyes out.
