Rowan Kline Zorida 

DAY TWO

“Welcome! If you have made it this far, you have nothing to worry.” An elbow jabs my side, and I know this is Oakley's way of saying she was right. 

“While most of you know me only from the hallogram in the testing rooms, few may recognize me from brief face-to-face interactions. Unfortunately, not everyone got that opportunity.

“As you all know, each of you were individually picked for different reasons. We are happy to have you here with us.” 

I roll my eyes. 

“You have one more celebration tomorrow before the games begin. I presume you’ve noticed the watchers that are stationed inside your rooms. They are our eyes and ears. If you break any of the rules, we will know. They will not hurt you, and feel free to ask them any questions you have.” I cast a glance at the robots glued to the wall under the balcony that Muscaria presents herself on. 

“You are provided one set of rations a day, which can be collected at any time. Tomorrow's celebration will take place at the same time as today's. You are required to attend. 

“I will leave you with that. Please enjoy the rest of the night, but remember, too stay safe, you must stay secret. We will not tolerate any slip-ups.” There is no noise in the room as she walks back to where she came. 

Her voice seems amplified, as it carries throughout the room. 

Once the chatter picks up again, and a soft string of music notes starts to play, I turn back to her. 

“If you're staying, I’m staying.” She claps her hands happily at the words. I look over her shoulder and see something that makes me groan internally. 

Alexander is heading our way. I haven’t met the man before today, but I hate him. One look at him and you can practically smell the arrogance, sense the way he holds himself above others. 

“I think you’ve interrupted for plenty of time. And, now that we have music, I think I deserve a dance with the lady.” He wraps his arm around Oakley. She's smiling up at him as if he’s her savior. 

“Okay! Bye Rowan, we can talk later, I promise.” She's being tugged away, “Oh, and thank you. For staying with me.”

 I nod. 

Alexander has a wicked grin on his face as he whisks her away from me. 

I look at the ceiling, softly hitting the back of my head against the wall a couple of hundred times. I run my hands up my face and through my hair, just too stimulate the growing chaos I feel. 

“That was a trainwreck.”

I look forward and see a face of freckles looking back at me, “I’m assuming that was who you were looking for last night?” 

“The one and only,” I mumble to the boy who helped me the other night. I feel like I was in the wrong for letting him see me like that. His hair is still very copper colored, but now that I'm not in that hazy state, I can make out a pair of brown eyes and his hundreds of freckles. 

“Tough luck, buddy. Don’t worry, I’ll be your wingman—we’ll get her.” He elbows my side teasingly. 

“It’s not like that.”

His mouth drops open, and he leans in closer, clearly confused, “Then why do you look like you're going to punch a hole through the wall?” He purses his lips and raises his eyebrows inquisitively. 

I suddenly want him to leave. Badly.

“I don’t like him. She’s in fairytale land right now, I can tell. If she wants a partner, fine. But he doesn’t deserve it.” 

He definitely thinks he does. 

I don’t know why I’m talking to this stranger, but I'm frustrated, and the thoughts are flooding my mind, and apparently out of my mouth. Is this what it feels like to be Oakley? 

“So I can shoot my shot? Nice to know.” 

“She doesn’t like gingers.” I have no clue if that’s true or not, but I say it anyway. My eyes are following her; her dress flows with every movement she makes. She is smiling, and I pretend it does not affect me.

“Harsh. I was just joking. Not my type.” I roll my eyes.

“What’s your name again?”

He puffs out his chest, proud, as he answers, “Tucker, Beau Tucker. 19 years old, and probably better than everyone at everything.” He is teasing, but I glare at him from the side of my eye. 

“This is the part where you tell me yours,” He whispers, breaking character before returning his extravagant pose. 

“Rowan,” I answer. He drops the pose, and his shoulders sag. 

“That was so boring. Could have at least tried to make it fun, buddy.” 

“Not your buddy.” 

“Come on, I practically saved your life last night. You should be begging on your knees for my time.” 

“No, I shouldn’t. And you’ll never see me like that again, not while you're still breathing.” 

“Aggressive. Relax. You have no sense of humor.” 

“I have a sense of humor, you just actually have to be funny to find it.” I’m trying to get him to leave. To scare him off, since he seems insistent on forming some sort of alliance with me. I know Oakley thinks it’s safe here, but it's not. I don’t know who to trust. 

“I like you. You’ve got an attitude.” He says, “But seriously. Go, get her. You have barely taken your eyes off of them this whole conversation.” 

I look over at him, and he urges me to go. I don’t want to intervene. She wants to be there with him. 

Tucker throws his hands up, clearly giving up. We sit there in silence, watching the couple move. 

The majority of the people here are complete strangers to one another, yet multiple couples were dancing anyway. Admirable. Either that or completely idiotic. 

Oakley is smiling as Alexander talks, which I find strange. If Oaklay loves one thing, it's talking. It's what makes her so fun to be around; she loves telling everyone what's on her mind. 

But she isn’t talking now; she has hardly said a word the whole time. 

This is what the rest of my night looks like. I watch the couples dance, with a talkative man at my side, and a pit in my stomach, while battling the urge to kill someone. 

But after a few more miserable minutes, a young girl walks up to the pair. She has medium-length blond hair, but that’s all I can make out from here. 

They talk, just the three of them, for a few minutes, before the girl walks off, and Alexander follows. Oakley is left alone in the middle of the room.

“By the gods, finally! He’s gone, go get her! She's alone, you’re making her look lonely, go!” Tucker looks almost angry, yet clearly excited; he was talking so fast that he barely finished one sentence before starting the next.

He pops up, “Get off your ass, you’re going to lose your chance!” He scolds. 

“I hate you.”

“I feel the love, man, but I'm not joking. Go.” He is practically bouncing, pushing me forward. I swat him away, but listen. I merge into the crowd, dodging swaying groups. She is sitting there watching him go, as I sneak up beside her. 

“How did it go?” She startles, despite my talking quietly.  I find her reaction humorous, but I don’t show it. 

She slouches, “I’m so very sick of dancing to this painfully slow music.” She leads us off the floor and over to a table filled with a random assortment of food. 

“I’m going to turn in soon, but first,” she claps her hands and turns towards me. “how was your night? Meet anyone special?” She asks, waggling her eyebrows. She laughs at herself and grabs something off the table to shove into her mouth while she waits for my reply. 

“No,” I was planning to leave it at that, but I saw a crazed look in her eye I know all too well, “and I’m not trying to either.” I’m surprisingly tired and I think it reflects in my lazy words. Last night I felt like I was dying, every inch of my body in pain, but tonight, somehow, I feel fine again. It’s completely irrational, the only thing I feel now is a slight soreness in a few places, and a heavy sense of weariness. 

“A shame, really. I know your content being all dark and brooding, but… you’re tall and have a pretty face. Symmetrical, nice shape, pretty eyes…  I’m honestly jealous!” 

“I am not dark and brooding.” 

“Shh, yes, you are. But, you have pretty handsome features overall, girls our age would rip you to pieces if you let ‘em. You check most of the boxes,” she nods. 

“I don’t, ‘check any boxes,’” I mock, “I don’t want any of that.” 

She doesn’t believe me, of course, “Everyone wants that. Someday, you'll want someone to build a future with—someone to be there for you. You can pretend you can't fathom it in the meantime, but when you snap out of it, I’ll help you find her. I mean, or him, whatever floats your boat, ” She shrugs.

I laugh out loud, before smothering it with my hand. Her eyes go wide, and her smile even wider.

“I’ve never heard you laugh like that! I mean a chuckle here or there, sure! But that was a full belly laugh!” Her smile is so broad it keeps mine on my face, even as I roll my eyes. 

“Why did you stop?” She starts again, “How can I make it come back? Are you ticklish?” She reaches forward, but I grab her hands.

“Don’t even try it.” 

She smirks, “If you weren’t ticklish, you wouldn’t be trying to stop me.” She angles her head to the side, squinting her eyes. 

She’s adorable. 

“You have a very nice laugh, Rowan. You should do it more. Might lighten the load.” 

I realize her hands are still in mine, and let them drop. The words were enough to make my face go hot; physical contact was simply too much.

“Okay then, what did you do?”

“Mainly watched you dance. You looked beautiful. Red is your color.” I reach a hand out and touch one of her thick, long braids. “You’re the only person with their hair up.” 

She pulls her braid from my fingers with a gasp, looking around at the now dwindling crowd. 

“Really? Does it look bad?” She asks, concerned.

“Not even a little bit.”

She sighs, “Oh, thank the gods.” 

I try to keep the conversation going, but when she mentions she's tired once again, I don’t force her to stay. I offer to walk her to her room, and she accepts. 

We make our way up the same spiraling set of stairs I came from, and down a long hallway. 

“My room is just above yours. Very last room?”

She smiles like it's the best news she's ever heard. She looks at the roof before slowly lowering her gaze. It lands on me with a mischievous smirk playing on her lips, “Know Morse code?” 

I nod.

 She motions for me to enter her room, and I do so timidly. 

“Do you have one of these windows?” She tries to make herself taller, while still just barely peeking through the glass. 

“Yes…” I answer, a hint of suspicion in my tone. 

“Have a little trust, grouch.” She walks past me, waving one of the watchers into the already crowded space. 

“Is there any rule saying this window has to be here?” The watcher stays silent before answering that there is no such thing.

“Fantastic! Will you help me break it?”

It pauses again. I doubt it will comply, and I wait for it to say so. It walks over to the window and pushes one hand through the glass. The square falls out, onto what I know is the ballroom below. There are a few sounds of surprise, just barely audible. 

“Thank you, Mr. Watcher,” she smiles. 

“It’s not a person.” 

“Don’t listen to him, he doesn’t know what he's talking about,” She waves me away with her hands, “but will you do the same thing for his room, please?”

The watcher agrees, and she ushers both of us out of the room. I show the robot to my room, and it follows instructions. I can’t tell if I’m confused, in disbelief, or even angry. 

“Based on the glass shattering, I’m assuming it's done?” I hear her voice faintly from below me. 

I laugh to myself, “Yes, Kiki. I can hear you.” 

“Oh, good! I don’t want to yell at each other. I was thinking we could pull a rope or something. You know, so we can talk without disturbing anyone,” Oakley says. 

“We don’t have a rope. But I think we could get one. It needs to make noise, just a little to grab attention.” I entertain the idea, even though I am much less enthusiastic than she is about it. 

“Smart, but I’m drawing a blank.” 

“Don’t stress yourself, you need sleep. We can figure it out another day,” I sit underneath the window, resting my head against the wall. 

“Yeah… Yeah, you're probably right,” I can hear the sigh in her voice. “Well, goodnight, Rowan. Thank you for staying with me, I don’t think I’m putting into words very well, but it really does mean the world.”

“Always,” The word slips out under a breath, and I assume it never reaches her ears. “Goodnight, Oakley. I’ll see you in the morning.”