There was a baby.
Inside her.
Did it hurt? Did it cry or make noises she could hear? I realized my palm was pressed to my own flat stomach. In a few months that could be me.
“What are you staring at?” the woman said sharply. “Never seen a pregnant woman before?” Both women laughed, and a reluctant smile came to my lips. No, I’d never seen a pregnant woman before. Almost no one had except for on television. In all my excitement about my own debut as the Breeder, I’d totally forgotten last year’s Breeder’s role in tonight’s ceremony.
Zoe, as I now remembered her name to be, was last year’s Breeder. How could I have forgotten that hair? The men had gone crazy when she’d been revealed. We’d also gone wild in our dorm room lounge. I’d been surrounded by most of the girls in school as we watched the ceremony. The closer my time came to being the one, the more the other girls at my school pretended to be friends with me. We’d gasped as Zoe stepped onto the stage, then there’d been silence as the girls examined the screen then me, silently comparing me to her and finding me lacking.
“Get in here,” Zoe said, gesturing with a hand to come closer. She pointed to the chair. “The powers that be want me inthat.” Her derisive tone made it clear what she thought of the spangly bikini top. It was tradition. The government wanted her pregnant belly to be the shining star of the night.
My throat went dry at the thought of such disobedience. Any other citizen could be arrested or questioned for daring to not follow orders. Maybe a Breeder had more flexibility, but to actually disobey? Terrifying.
“What...what do you want to wear?” I swallowed, surprised my voice had worked in the presence of such a star.
Zoe reached for a silk blouse. I’d call it blue, but that wouldn’t do it justice. It was like the sky on a perfect spring day. It would be amazing against her hair. “It’s beautiful.” My whisper tiptoed its way across the room.
“That settles it. I’m wearing it,” Zoe said and started to pull her cotton t-shirt over her head.
“But your belly,” the other woman moaned. “We have to show off your belly.”
I could feel annoyance float off Zoe. “I’m used goods,” she said. She pointed to me. “Jane’s the star now. Make her gorgeous.”
I wanted to help Zoe. We’d met five seconds ago, but there was a connection. She was the only other person I’d ever met who was a Breeder. She knew what it was like to feel crampy pain every month and to bleed from her private place. She’d likely endured stares and whispers for years as I had. And, most importantly, she’d had sex. Something I was about to learn about firsthand.
I wished we had more time for me to question Zoe about the intricacies of the sexual act. All the videos and books I’d devoured were nothing compared to a firsthand account.
“How about that top?” I said, the words spilling out of my mouth as easily as gossip flows from teens. I yanked a sheer pale green blouse off the rack. It would cover her breasts, but was totally sheer along the midriff. Her belly would be covered but seen. Relief passed over the costumer’s face. Zoe pursed her lips, angling her head while she pondered the blouse.
“Give it. I’ll try it on.” She reached and plucked the top out of my hands. I helped smooth it over her shoulders then stepped back as she turned for our approval. Smiles broke out on all our faces. She looked gorgeous. Shewasgorgeous.
“All right. All right,” the dressing room woman muttered.
“Now your turn,” Zoe said, collapsing into the chair, sitting on top of the rejected bikini top. My heartbeat increased to a rock-and-roll drum tempo as I remembered I wasn’t here to admire and help Zoe. I was here to become her.
The older wardrobe woman bustled around pulling potential outfits from racks, each more glittery and decadent than the rest. The materials were luxurious, I discovered, as I ran a hand down some of the selections. My nervousness started to fade while my excitement built at the prospect of playing dress up. I was nowhere near Zoe’s league, but maybe with the right outfit, the candidates wouldn’t notice.
“No.” Zoe nixed every selection the dresser displayed.
“Why not?” I protested. “Some of those are pretty.”
“They’re too much,” she said with calm authority. “You’re so naturally pretty, the clothes will hide you.”
“But...” I frowned, looking at the clothes and recalling all the past Breeders’ debuts. I glanced from the clothes to Zoe, wondering whether to believe her. She seemed to think I was pretty and the makeup person had said so too. I didn’t know how to judge whether I was pretty or not.
For the past six years I’d been taller and heavier than all the girls in my school community. The standard of beauty there was thin and wispy. Compared to my classmates, I’d felt huge and ungainly in my woman’s body.
“Trust me,” Zoe said, seeing my doubt. “Consider me your mentor, something I never had.” There was a bitter quality to her words, and then I remembered. The Breeder before Zoe had committed suicide the night before Zoe’s reveal. She’d never gotten pregnant and couldn’t face it. I muttered a quick prayer that twelve months from now I’d be in this room, pregnant and advising the next Breeder. The alternative was too horrifying to contemplate.
They claimed it was okay if a Breeder didn’t get pregnant her first year, but everyone knew it wasn’t okay at all. It was a failure.Please God, don’t let me fail.
“What do you think I should wear?” I asked Zoe, deciding to trust her. She’d gotten pregnant early in her term as Breeder. Maybe some of her luck would rub off on me.
“Something like this.” She pushed herself slowly to standing and waddled over to a filmy emerald green dress. It was like the sister to her blouse, only darker, more vibrant and all the way sheer. It had simple straps and a few embroidered flowers on the hem, which looked as though it would hang just below my butt.
“Is that a dress or a halter top?” I asked.
Zoe and the costumer laughed. “It needs to be short,” Zoe said. “The men will want access.”