Obliques

Every morning, I’m forced to train with the others. We have to run up and down the mountains, lift weights, charge weapons quickly, shoot in range, fight in hand combat, and learn tedious survival techniques. I’m always the last to finish or the last to arrive. My body often collapses and the others just laugh at how I can’t take the pressure.

The stars appear like pearls hanging in the dark sky. After a long day, I drag my legs to the crescent. In some lofts, the lights were shutting off, as people went to their beds. I reach Kier’s loft where I stay. The air outside is cool and refreshing, but as soon as I step inside, my body sweats. The air inside is humid, making me feel clammy. By the time I get to the bathroom, I have to breathe through my mouth. I run the cold water from the shower. It trickles down and I strip out of my jumper. I can hear crickets signing me a song through the tiny window at the top of the brick wall. I wash up in the rectangular shower, eliminating every drop of sweat. My wet hair sticks to my cheeks. I crawl out the bathroom, feeling much more refreshed. As I get dressed, my body begins to feel unfamiliar. I stare down at my navel and stretch my fingers. I walk, looking at my toes. My fingers brush over my collarbone. It’s like my body changed over night. My chest is perky and my hips are wider.

The door shuffles open. I watch the head of black ringlets walk in. we don’t usually meet at this hour, as I’m always asleep when he comes. His eyes see me and he raises a brow.

“You’re up,” he says.

I’m unsure if it’s a question of a statement. I decide to climb in the bed. But I don’t sleep. My eyes are wide-awake somehow.

Kier undoes the strap of his weapon, laying it down in the corner. He kicks off his military boots, sighing. I try to close my eyes, but they refuse to stay shut. Kier walks over into the bathroom. He takes a long shower. I rub my eyes, hoping for them to sleep. The fullness in my chest stops me from lying down on my stomach, as I usually do. I roll on my shoulder, pulling the covers over my head.

Then, I feel the bed sink with Kier’s weight. I scoot up to the edge, pasting myself to the wall. A wave of heat drowns me so suddenly. I can’t even breathe. I stick my head up from the covers, hoping to catch some air. I only meet Kier’s resting profile. His eyes are closed, though I know he’s awake. His nostrils flare and his lungs expand and collapse hastily beneath his chest. I’m not used to this temperature. I can only remember the frosty air in the Hitherlands. I can’t help but toss and turn. My new thickness isn’t helping either. I violently kick the covers off my body. Just the feeling of it gets me itchy with sweat.

“Ugh,” I growl, “It’s hot!”

I shake my head and sit up. I’m practically panting oxygen in and out of me. Just as I decide to open a window, I notice that they’re all open.

“Go to sleep,” Kier breathes.

“I can’t,” I whisper.

I look over to him. Sweat shines his temples. Sighing heavily, I lift my arms and pull my long hair up, twisting it into a bun. I wipe my moist face over and over. Kier’s eyes are open and stare at me.

“What?” I snap.

I watch him sit upright. The pit of my stomach finds a way to let worms in. My gaze falls over his bare torso and the lines his firm abs make. I don’t know why I’m anxious, but I try to look away.

“What’s that?” he asks, his voice low.

The skin on my shoulder feels his hot breath. His hand lands on my wrist, making me jerk it back defensively. I draw my arm behind me, hiding my wristlet.

“Nothing,” I stammer.

“So you’re a rebel, huh?” he muses.

“It’s nothing,” I divert.

His eyes stare.

“I was wondering what brought you here,” he says, “You’re as naïve as I thought.”

I grit my teeth and edge away. It’s like he’s looking down at me.

“You don’t know anything,” I defend.

Kier’s eyes are locked on me, “Neither do you. Do you know what statement you’re making with that thing on?”

“That I don’t want to conform to the Cygnus,” I tell him, feeling my wrist itch.

“You’re conforming more than anything,” he says at his turn. His words get a front out of me. What could he possibly be talking about? If I don’t find my match, then I don’t have to go through Parturition. They won’t have a hold on me. Kier lies back down on the mattress and says, “It’s still a way to use you. Don’t you think that the Cygnus thought out their master plan?”

I don’t see what he’s saying. He stays silent for a moment, closing his menacing eyes.

“And what about the guy? Huh? Did you ever think that he might want to live?”

A lump grows in my throat. No, I didn’t think about my match as a singular person, a person that’s probably looking for me. Yes, I only thought about myself. I’m selfish. Everyone’s so eager to point it out to me. I realize that.

“The Cygnus knew that Outliers would go against the law, especially when it’s so easy. Disobeying the law is convenient for them. If you rebel, you and him die. It’s like killing two birds with one stone. They’re not short on Perfects. They want us dead. We’re only alive in case a scientist spilled some genes in the lab.”

“Well, whoever I’m supposed to be with is as good as dead. The Hitherlands are wiped out.”

“But you're not from the Hitherlands,” he comments.

I frown, “Of course I am.”

I watch Kier split his eye lids open just enough to glare me down.

“I doubt they had nail salons there.”

I nearly hiccup.

“I’m going to sleep!” I say quickly, mortified.

I tuck underneath the covers once again. I feel my face heat up in embarrassment. He’s still on that. But I can’t tell him the truth. Not because he doesn’t trust me, but because I don’t trust him.