Uglies by Scott Westerfeld Page B

it in frustration. A trio of zits exploded across her forehead, as if marking the days since her sixteenth birthday. Her watery, too-small eyes glared back at her, full of anger.
    Only at night could she escape from the tiny room, the nervous stares, her own ugly face.
    She fooled the minders and climbed out as usual, but she didn’t feel much like any real tricks. There was no one to visit, no one to play a prank on, and the idea of crossing the river was too painful to consider.
    She had gotten a new hoverboard, and tricked it up like Shay had taught her, so at least she could fly at night.
    But flying didn’t feel the same. She was alone, it was getting cold at night, and no matter how fast she flew, Tally was trapped, and she knew it.
    The fourth night in ugly exile she took her board up into the greenbelt, staying at the edge of town. She whipped it back and forth past the dark columns of tree trunks, shooting through them at top speed, so fast that her hands and face collected dozens of scratches from the branches blurring by.
    After a few hours’ flying had worn away some of her anguish, Tally had a happy realization: This was the best she’d ever ridden; she was almost as good as Shay now. Never once did the board dump her for getting too close to a tree, and her shoes held on to its grippy surface like they were glued there.
    She worked up a sweat even in the autumn chill, riding until her legs were tired, her ankles aching, her arms sore from being spread out like wings guiding her through the dark forest. If she rode this hard all night, Tally thought, maybe tomorrow she could sleep the hideous daylight away.
    She flew until exhaustion forced her home.
    When she crawled back into her room at dawn, someone was waiting there.
    “Peris!”
    His features burst into a radiant smile, big eyes flashing beautifully in the early light. But when he looked closer, his expression changed. “What happened to your face, Squint?”
    Tally blinked. “Haven’t you heard? They didn’t do the—”
    “Not that.” Peris reached up and touched her cheek, which smarted under his fingertips. “You look like you’ve been juggling cats all night.”
    “Oh, yeah.” Tally ran her fingers through her hair, and rummaged through a drawer. She pulled a medspray out, closed her eyes, and squirted herself in the face.
    “Ow!” she yelped in the few seconds before the anesthetic kicked in. She sprayed her scratched hands as well. “Just a little midnight hoverboarding.”
    “A little past midnight, don’t you think?”
    Out the window, the sun was just beginning to turn the towers of New Pretty Town pink. Cat-vomit pink. She looked at Peris, exhausted and confused. “How long have you been here?”
    He shifted uncomfortably in her window chair. “Long enough.”
    “Sorry. I didn’t know you were coming.”
    He raised his eyebrows in beautiful anguish. “Of course I came. The moment I figured out where you were, I came.”
    Tally turned away, unlacing her grippy shoes as she collected herself. She’d felt so abandoned since her birthday, it had never occurred to her that Peris would want to see her, especially not here in Uglyville.
    But here he was, worried, anxious, lovely.
    “It’s good to see you,” she said, feeling tears come into her eyes. They were red and puffy most of the time these days.
    He beamed up at her. “You too.”
    The thought of what she must look like was too much. Tally collapsed onto the bed, covering her face with her hands and sobbing. Peris sat next to her and held her for a while as she cried, then wiped her nose and sat her up. “Look at you, Tally Youngblood.”
    She shook her head. “Please don’t.”
    “You’re an absolute mess.”
    Peris found a brush and ran it through her hair. She couldn’t meet his eyes, and stared at the floor.
    “So, do you always go hoverboarding in a blender?”
    She shook her head, lightly touching the scratches on her face. “Just tree branches. At high