Marigold by Heather Manheim (best books for 8th graders .TXT) 📕

slightly curling, giving a bounce to it. Sunshine seemed to be the living embodiment of her name, like living sunshine could flow from her and bring others joy. Her fiery red hair almost looked as if it was aflame. Amanda, the tallest, had red hair too but not as bright and coppery as Sunshine’s, and instead, it had blonde streaks through it. Davis had never seen a hair color quite like it. If someone had just described it to her and she had not seen it, she would not have realized how becoming it could look, especially with Amanda’s green eyes.

Lisa, who seemed to be in charge, held up a communication tablet, showing that the two could now use those. Davis picked her tablet up, and there was already a message, saying it was nice to meet her and whether or not she had any questions. Davis just looked at Lisa and shrugged. She knew she should ask something, though. She typed out that it was nice to meet them, and she wasn’t sure yet; she was just trying to figure everything out. Did the wives have any questions for her? Davis could tell that Lisa was not expecting to have this question. She guessed that it wasn’t often that anyone asked them what they thought. Then she got a bright look on her face and asked about the only thing she could think to ask her. Cox, their “Den Mom.” Lisa typed out the explanation that Cox was preparing the room to have Davis move in, getting the bed and bedside table located in the room. Putting Davis’s bath towels, robe, and clothing in the closet, including the wedding dress Davis would wear. Reading that shocked Davis a little; she didn’t even know how they knew her size. Lisa seemed to read her mind and typed out that the hospital rooms had scanners that took daily measurements, and Davis had weighed in daily. That made sense but didn’t. She had no idea she was being scanned daily for her measurements. She tried to push that thought out of her head and typed out on her tablet: “Maybe not the most pressing question, but why is Tiffany’s hair long?”

“Yes, it’s an anomaly and a personal request from President Everett. He’s asked she grow it long and trim it only for it to stay healthy. That is why Tiffany wears her hair up, in a bun, and under a hat when in public.”

The answer struck Davis as so odd. According to President Everett, there were to be no differences in people. All individuality had supposedly been erased. There were to be no exceptions. The President had made it clear that all these things—the standard uniform, the same haircut for everyone, only having last names—were all supposedly for the country’s betterment. The theory was if everybody had the same thing, nobody would be jealous. Nobody would be envious. It would help eliminate crime and, at the same time, give the reduced population a sense of solidarity and create a harmonious society to unify everybody. Here, Davis was face-to-face with proof that President Everett broke his own rules when it suited him. Until she had seen it for herself, she hadn’t entirely accepted how deep his hypocrisy could go.

Lisa asked her if everything was okay, and Davis nodded her head, yes. She then typed a reply that she was just thinking about what Lisa had said and anything else that she should ask. Finally, at a loss for anything, she asked about what she should know about being President Everett’s wife and life at the Palace. Lisa smiled as she handed the tablet to Rebecca, who typed out a reply. It wasn’t very detailed; it just said, “All will come in time.” Great, thought Davis. So much for the “wife lessons” she was supposed to receive.

October 8, 2056 –

To the Palace

It was unbelievable to Davis that she was leaving the infirmary today. She was waiting for her transport to pick her up and take her to the Everett Palace. Brookshire had been transported to his security headquarters at the Palace earlier that morning. He told her he would be there, although it may be hard to visit her right away or even frequently. She wasn’t sure what would happen when she got there. Brookshire had only told Davis that she would be shown to her room and given an outfit that President Everett specifically picked out for her to change into. The ladies from her group and their Den Mom, Cox, would be in their room waiting for her.

After Davis had been waiting in the front office for about twenty minutes, Duffy came and got her and told her a transport bus was in the back to pick her up. She had no idea why they needed such a large vehicle for just her, but there you had it. Davis walked through the hospital and out the back. The driver had rusty blondish-brown hair, a color that looked like it gave up long ago what shade it was. Vibrant green eyes were her standout feature, and Davis noted the name tag, Fontanella, that she wore on her tunic.

“Hi, Fontanella, I’m Davis. We are the people, and the people are we,” she said as a way of an introduction. She held out her hand for Fontanella to shake. Fontanella took it tentatively and shook it lightly like she wasn’t sure if Davis had truly got a clean bill of health.

“Hi, Davis, we are the people, and the people are we.”

Fontanella then helped Davis onto the empty transport bus, giving her the first seat diagonal from her, and then she took her place in the driver’s seat before continuing to speak. “So, how are you today?”

“I’m fine. Thank you. And yourself?”

“Good, thanks.”

“Not that I don’t appreciate you picking me up, because I do, but I was wondering why did you pick me up in the back of the hospital with such a large