The Gender Game

reaching the ground floor, we entered the work room and lined up in front of the machinery. At four-thirty a.m. on the dot, Ms. Maddox entered the room, holding her black registry book. One by one, she called out and ticked off our names.
Facility registers were usually in chronological order, rather than alphabetical, which meant that the girl who had been called out before me—the troll of a girl I'd spotted earlier, Dina Bradbury—must've arrived just shortly before me.
"All right," Ms. Maddox said, snapping her book shut. "Work begins."
Everyone began moving to the machinery, while Ms. Maddox approached me and explained my responsibilities. I understood and quickly got the hang of the grinding machine she was asking me to monitor. It wasn't a difficult task.
The hours blurred into one another, as I was used to them doing, and I stopped looking up at the clock.
Finally, it was time for breakfast; we exited the mill and trudged along a pebble path toward a bleak brick building a quarter of a mile away which served as the dining hall. A buffet was already laid out. I'd lost sight of Josefine in the crowd, so I lined up with the rest of them and piled my plate with hot food. We were only allowed one plate per meal, so everyone filled it to spilling point.
I was still looking for Josefine as I turned to search for somewhere quiet to sit. Then I caught a glimpse of her fiery red hair on the opposite side of the room. She stood with her back against the wall, while Dina loomed in front of her.
I couldn't spot any wardens around; perhaps they were outside the door, waiting until the crowd in here settled down.
Forgetting all about finding a quiet spot, I dumped my plate and cutlery down on the nearest table to me and weaved through the crowd toward them. My eyes trained on Josefine as she picked up one of her bread rolls and handed it to Dina. Before she could do the same with her second roll, I stepped between the girls and gripped Josefine's arm, guiding the roll back to its rightful place on her plate. My gaze was steely as I glared at Dina. Although we were actually almost the same height and roughly the same age, physically, she was much larger than me. This was the first time I’d seen her face up close; her eyes were small and spread too far apart to be attractive, their color dark brown, almost black. Her forehead hung low, and metal braces glinted against her teeth.
"Who are you?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.
"I'd like to ask the same," I replied calmly.
My eyes fell to the roll on her plate that belonged to Josefine. Before she could react, I snatched it up and returned it. Clutching the young girl's shoulder, I pulled her out of the corner Dina had bullied her into and stood in her place.
"I suggest you keep to what's yours," I whispered.
Dina's broad cheeks flushed and a muscle in her jaw twitched. Anger glinted in her eyes. Her disposable plate creaked in the tightening grip of her meaty hands. But then she backed down, as I’d known she would, and turned on her heel and steamed away. I knew a coward when I saw one.
Dozens of eyes were on me as I escorted Josefine to the table where I'd left my plate and cutlery. Nobody had touched it.
I pulled up a chair for Josefine next to me and we both sat down.
"You make sure you stay away from that girl, okay?" I told Josefine as I dug into my porridge.
The girl looked shaken as she picked up a piece of apple. She glanced nervously at Dina, who, having taken a seat across the room from us next to her new crony Vera, was glaring daggers our way.
"And don't look at her," I said. "Giving her attention makes her think she has power over you. Ignore her."
Josefine resumed her focus on her plate. She took a bite of everything but the two rolls, which were the most substantial food she'd collected. So I gave her my untouched sandwich. "Eat this. It hasn't been contaminated by Piggy Hands."
That brought a smile to Josefine's face. "Thanks," she mumbled. She accepted and began munching.
We spent the next fifteen minutes in mostly silence as we finished eating, and then a bell warned us that breakfast was drawing to a close. We had to get a move on.
Josefine and I picked up our plates and left the table to get in the line leading up to the trash cans. After I dumped my plate in the waste, someone brushed into my right side. I turned to see that it was Vera. She had a comically solemn look on her face as she leaned back against the wall and crossed her arms over her chest.
"Mind where you're going," I muttered, before taking Josefine's hand and leading her away.
"You really shouldn't mess with Dina, you know," Vera called after me. I didn't give Vera the satisfaction of turning around and asking why, but she offered it herself. "I'm serious, Violet Bates. I share a room with her… You don't know where she's come from."
Oh, please.
I sped up with Josefine and exited the dining hall, Vera's irritating voice fading out in the crowd.
I asked Ms. Maddox if Josefine and I could share a work station after lunch and she agreed. She allowed us to choose one in the far end of the room, as far from the other girls as we could be. After an hour or so, Josefine seemed to put thoughts of the incident with Dina behind her and became chatty. She asked me more questions about myself; particularly, she was interested in my parents. I told her that I didn't know who my father was and that my mother had chosen to conceive my brother and me in the city's insemination center. She had died from