"So?" My eyes open to the fresh morning air. He's leaned over my bed, sitting on the floor, with his head laying on the covers. My elbows prop up behind me. I'm trying to adjust to the early morning. A brow on my forehead sits a little higher than the other.
"What?" I ask, rubbing my eyes. I shift my feet under the covers noticing how warm comfort turns into a cool, satisfying crisp.
"Where did you go last night?" I tilt my head back, groaning a bit before releasing a breath and falling back into the bed. Then I remember it's the weekend. I feel at ease as the mattress devours my body into its memory foam. A certain nostalgia fills me. One I haven't felt in a long time. The peace of being in bed without having to stress or worry. "I want in."
My peace splits in two, running away from whatever fear, stress, or anxiety is forming in my soul. "What?" So far, this seems like the only word I'm able to say this morning.
"You want to leave this place. I want in." I'm sitting up now, fully attentive to his presence. His eyes dare to dive through mine, fearless and unafraid. His back is pressed up against the side of the bed with his arm sitting on his propped-up knee. My mind begins to spin and spit out thoughts, questions, and reasons for my answer before giving it to him.
"No," I say sternly. "If I let you in on this, the chances of me getting caught doubles."
He bites his lower lip, looks down, and smiles before knocking his gaze back up. "You might want to rethink your decision."
"Why?" I ask in a way that lures him to convince me.
He drops his other arm on top of the bed, barely touching my skin. "Think about it. I've been going here for quite some time and know this place better than anyone else." My brow shifts again. "And if you consider the costs of my knowledge versus my liability it outweighs the other by a milestone."
I think it over, refusing to break the eye contact I'm holding with him. I consider the options. I know there are risks in bringing him along. I don't even know anything about him. For all I know, he could be hiding a double personality, secretly reporting what happens here to someone else.
"I know this facility better than you do, so if you want a solid chance at leaving this place I'm your safest bet." My index finger lays across my lips as I take it all in.
"Alright, fine." The corners of his lips curve. "I'll let you in as long as you tell me everything you know." He lifts a brow waiting for something else as his smirk drops. A sense of dissatisfaction reaches me as he continues to stare. "And I'll tell you everything I know."
"Deal," he says. I get changed into the annoying tights and skirt uniform before slipping on my heels and walking towards the door. His eyes follow me. "Where are you going?"
I stop to lift my head without facing him. My hands hang at my side, still in the air. "I have some things to do."
"What happened to 'telling me everything' just a minute ago?" I turn my head slightly, gazing at the floor. My lips draw together slightly as he waits for my answer.
"I..." My voice drifts off, not knowing where I'm going with this.
"What happened to no more secrets, Forty-nine?"
My fingers twitch. "I'll meet you by the orchard at one." I step outside the door, thoughts racing, fingers moving, feet pacing, eyes focused straight ahead. My heels click against the floor as I head down to breakfast. My hands grab something small, making sure I've made my appearance for the day. Once I go to leave, my curiosity wants me to go downstairs. Reeling me toward the staircase. It isn't until I enter the strange office area that the events of last night crush my plans.
My heels stop clicking as I stand there staring at the floor. So many thoughts flood my memory. Almost to the point where I feel like my breakfast is going to climb its way back out through my esophagus. I recall the darkness. I remember the frozen floor underneath my back. The touch of his hands on my skin. How he whispered in my ear. The way his body was so unbearably close to mine. My heart begins to pick up pace the longer I think about it. I feel like I'm going to throw up.
"Forty-nine?"
I turn around. A woman in a white lab coat with round glasses, a clipboard, and her dark hair pulled back in a low ponytail confronts me. She smiles at me. I crease my brows at her. Something isn't right. I continue to look at her and then it hits me. I try to keep a calm face, making sure not to show too much shock.
Her smile.
It's the only genuine one I've witnessed since being here. "Who's asking?" I feel myself starting to open little by little. Her eyes relax, softening after hearing my words.
"Today is your checkup." Overwhelmed with confusion, I give her an eerie look.
"Checkup?" I repeat, twitching a brow.
"Um..." she flips through her clipboard as her eyes scan a page, "...you are Forty-nine, aren't you?" I nod. "Every student is required to go through a checkup once or twice during their stay here. Yours happens to be today." I take a breath in. This isn't something I needed today. "If you could follow me."
She leads me down the hall, descends the stairs, and gets off a floor before the creepy hospital place. "Who are you?" I ask as she holds open the door to a small room. She follows me inside, gesturing me to take a seat on an examination table.
"You can call me Doctor Blackwell."
So, she's a doctor.
She washes her hands, as I look around at the room full of different diagrams, a scale in the corner, and a rolling chair behind her. She wraps something around my arm to take my blood pressure with and jots down a few things. Over the span of ten minutes, my height, weight, vision, hearing, and strength have been examined. "Open," she says as I hold out my tongue.
Her touch is gentle as she examines my throat and glides her fingers across my skin.
"Do you have any pain anywhere?" I stare at her unsure of how to answer, until I snap back to reality, showing her a few bruises. With every new injury, her eyes grow heavier. She marks some things on her clipboard.
"They've been putting me in Rewire more often so I get headaches every now and then. Sometimes I get dizzy." She mutters something that sounds like, "of course they have" and I ask her to repeat what she said. Her pen scribbles things down like she's copying every word I say.
"How much more," she disregards what she said in a flat tone.
"Every day." The scribbling stops. She looks up at the wall behind me, her thoughts taking over like a wave crashing into the sand. Seashells part a path for the wave, not willing to get damaged in the process while little children break the pattern of the smooth tide with their trudging feet. Her eyes snap out of her trance.
She shakes her head three times before glimpsing back at me.
"Is everything okay?" I ask, leaning in.
"That's insane."
"Yeah, insane is pretty normal at this point," I mention, trying to find a common ground. My hand reaches for the back of my neck while trying to smile it off.
"It's like they're trying to kill you," she whispers and I freeze. My smile fades. She's staring at her clipboard that's laying on the examination table beside me. The air is dead. I can't even hear myself breathe. Probably because I'm not.
"Wait, what?"
She shakes her head again. "The examination is over. You can leave." There's determination in her expression now. Eyes focused on the correct things and a strong voice. She makes her way to the door.
"Hey—wait! What did you—" I try calling but she's already out the door running, labcoat trailing behind her. I leap off of the cushioned table after her, bolting out the door. When my eyes reach the hallway, she's nowhere to be seen.
I go left, running after her, and taking my heels off in the process. The tights hugging my legs make my feet slide on the tile as I try to regain my balance every few seconds. By the time I've turned three or four corners, I have an idea of where she ran.
I'm outside the main building as I see her dash into Building C. The large engraved letter passes me as I enter the doors with my heels in hand. More corners turn my body until my eyes find her at the counter of one of the Coordinators. I backtrack behind a wall, listening in on the conversation.
"What is it?" The doctor's voice asks impatiently.
"Her schedule says she has Rewire every day of the week," the person answers.
"Take her off. Right now," the doctor demands.
"I can't do that. I don't have clearance—"
"What—then who can? Direct me to them."
"What's going on?" A third voice joins the conversation, deep and serious.
Doctor Blackwell explains what she's here for, as I listen along. "You can't have her on Rewire every day. You have to take her off—"
The third person's voice sounds too familiar to be unrecognizable. "Doctor Blackwell, you are to examine the students here—"
"And report back, and I'm reporting that if she stays on this regimen any longer it will cause permanent damage—"
"I'm afraid that's not your call, doctor."
"You're her supervisor, you should stop this." A light flickers in my head.
"You should stay out of this, yet you continue to run your nose through places it doesn't belong." Jinx. The heat between them turns so tense it's making my heart beat faster than it should be.
"You're going to kill her," she puts emphasis on the word. I'm trying to breathe normally with my back pressed against the wall. I try swallowing the itchy bulge in my throat.
"Doctor Blackwell. It is not your job to change students' schedules. Your job is to do a physical examination on them during their stay and report the results to us."
I leave just before they discover me and race my way out of the building. My heels are kissing the bottoms of my feet once again as I hurry my way back into Building A. After lunch, I start to make my way outside. The moment I can see the doors, Bryce crosses my eyes.
A light purple blemish covers half of his cheek as he sends me a pursed-lip look and narrowed eyes. My eyes blink as I turn away and head back out the doors. I make sure to check my six every now and then as I wander into the forest. Twigs crack under my switched-out shoes as I carry my heels in my hands again.
"Hey, beautiful," he coos, leaning his weight against one of the trees. "Were you followed?" His tone switches to something more serious.
I glance back once more before answering. "No, I don't think so."
His eyes look me over twice before saying what's on his mind. "It's not even dinner and you already look done with today."
"I hate heels. This place just had to go and make weekends all formal." He laughs.
"You ready to get to work?" He gets straight to the point as I take a breath in.
"The sooner we get out of here, the better."