Technically, Jonas’s full number was Eleven-nineteen, since there were other Nineteens, of course, in each age group.
And today, now that the new Elevens had been advanced this morning, there were two Eleven-nineteens.
At the midday break he had exchanged smiles with the new one, a shy female named Harriet.
But the duplication was only for these few hours. Very soon he would not be an Eleven but a Twelve, and age would no longer matter.
He would be an adult, like his parents, though a new one and untrained still.
Asher was Four, and sat now in the row ahead of Jonas. He would receive his Assignment fourth.
Fiona, Eighteen, was on his left; on his other side sat Twenty, a male named Pierre whom Jonas didn’t like much.
Pierre was very serious, not much fun, and a worrier and tattletale, too.
“Have you checked the rules, Jonas?” Pierre was always whispering solemnly. “I’m not sure that’s within the rules.”
Usually it was some foolish thing that no one cared about—opening his tunic if it was a day with a breeze;
taking a brief try on a friend’s bicycle, just to experience the different feel of it.
The initial speech at the Ceremony of Twelve was made by the Chief Elder, the leader of the community who was elected every ten years.
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