Andrew fettled with a tablet-looking, plastic object. I watched on the floor of his room as he studied the object, turning it over and over. His blue eyes sparked with excitement and fascination. A smile threatened to overcome me, but I suppressed it. Pride bloomed inside me as he gave me a toothy grin.

I thought my gift was appropriate for his thirteenth birthday, and we were both finally teenagers.

"I can't believe you found one of these. They're practically ancient." Andrew mused.

"Couldn't find one that worked," I couldn't help but scowl myself.

"Are you kidding?" Andrew's voice cracked a little.

Giggles started to climb up, and I buried my face in my hands, trying to hide my reaction, but I couldn't stop the shaking in my shoulders.

"Stop it!" He threw a pillow at me. "I can't help it!" His voice rose an octave, his voice cracking on the last word.

The pillow smacked me in the head. Unable to control my giggles anymore, I burst out laughing and fall backwards, holding my side. Tears blinded me, and I gasp for air. I knew Andrew, unamused, was staring down at me with a wicked grimace. But just picturing his face made me break out in more laughter.

"That's it!" Andrew yelled.

"N-no! W-wait—" I squeaked. Andrew ignored me as he pounced on top of me, tickling my sides. I squealed and batted away his hands.

We wrestled until Andrew finally gotten both of my hands. My smile still pinched my cheeks as we paused to catch our breath. Andrew still had mischief glistening in his blue eyes, but then there was something else.

His hands heated against my wrists. I became aware of how close he was, and how his eyes glided around my face. Then he caught my eyes and was frozen. My heart beat at an uncomfortably fast rate.

The silence stretched like a rubber band. I wasn't sure if I liked the silence, or how he stared at me. But for the moment, something changed. His familiar smile that greeted me every morning for school was gone. The dark eyebrows used to mock me and make funny faces in the mirror was pulled in confusion.

I wasn't sure why he stopped tickling me. I'm not sure if I want to know. For now.

"So, you like your gift?" I whispered, not daring to look away.

"Yeah," He breathed.

The band broke, and Andrew snapped back. He let go of my wrists and sat back on his knees. I exhaled.

"Where did you find an iPhone anyway?" He asked, grabbing it off his bed.

"Emma's sister had one. She said that I could have it so..." I shrug.

Andrew wrinkled his nose. "Ew. She touched this?"

I scoffed and gave him a light smack. "Be nice." He pouted and looked up at me through his eye lashes. "I wiped it off before I gave it to you."

Andrew snorted.

I picked at the carpet and tried to ignore the growing silence again. It made me want to wiggle, shiver, or something to fill the it.

"You know what people did before the Great City?" Andrew asked.

I let out a sigh of relief and climb on his bed with him.

"Tell me all your photographic knowledge, enlightened one." I say, my voice deepens, and I pretended to bow.

Andrew sat up straighter and puffed his chest out. "At least you know who I truly am."

"Okay, tell me before I take my gift back."

Andrew holds the iPhone closer to him and pets it. "Fine. The people Before would take "selfies". Well that's what they called it, but it was just them taking a picture of themselves."

"That's weird."

"A lot of friends did it." A smile spread across his face, "In fact, we should."

Andrew got up and grabbed his camera off his dresser. It sat next to piles of pictures from around the Innercity. I helped him take most of them by picking out the best places for him to set up.

Andrew plopped back on the bed and held the camera up, framing us.

"Cass, come closer. I'm only getting half of your face."

I scooted over. My shoulder crossed over his. I folded my hands in my lap, unsure what to do with them. Andrew's arm slides over my shoulders and holds me closer to his chest.

"Smile."

I smiled, feeling my heart beat punching my chest and a blush rising in my cheeks.

"Cassandra, look!" Emma cuts through my numb thoughts.

I'm thrown back into the Innercity bus. I peek over at Emma's wide eyes and tight grin. I will a smile to my face, shoving Andrew far away from me. I did this once, I can do this again.

I look out the window.

The ITF looms over the edge of the city. The only thing separating it from the Plains is the wall that wraps around the Innercity. The bleach white wall glares on the shimmering towers of glass. There are three towers in all, the smaller two in the front and the tallest in the middle. As our buses edge closer, courtyards become visible under the mountainous towers and are crawling with students wearing navy blue and white uniforms. An intake of breath behind me makes my muscles flinch. I turn, and Emma hovers over my shoulder.

Her nose crinkles. "We have to wear that?"

I watch the students again, some of them clenching their tablets while others chat with their friends.

"Since when do you care about what you wear?" I say, forcing my tone to be light.

"Since I saw Daniel get on the bus. I think fate is on our side," she replies with a smirk.

I chuckle, "I'm just saying, you're starting to sound like your mother."

Emma taps me on the shoulder, her lame attempt of playful aggression. The last time she really hit me was when we were seven, and I took her favorite doll. I told my mother, and she had a long talk with Emma's mother. I kept the doll, and Emma never hit me again.

The bus slides to a stop beside one of the smaller towers. The subtle conversations that sprinkled the bus turn into claps of excitement and anxiety.

I follow Emma off the bus and gaze up. The small tower isn't so small up close. For years I have been looking at the towers from the North Side of the Intercity. I watched the clouds float in its reflection and the moon shine of it like a beckon, showing me where I was meant to be. Now, its shadow swallows our group like we're ants, unworthy of its crystal walls.

Emma shuffles ahead of me, and my eyes strain to follow her movements. There are other people I recognize from my class, but they don't acknowledge me. Their shoulders brush me, their fingers touch mine, and their breaths are on my neck. The sensations only get worse when we are pushed into a hallway. When inside, I glance up and a camera stares down at me. It's wet lenses circle around our group. I look at my feet.

My footsteps slow, and I watch my peers' whispered excitement, their heads pressed close together. One guy, I think his name is Kevin or Ken, pats another boy on the back and nearly jumps to the ceiling. I search for my own joy. The flicker is there, but every time I reach for it, I hear Andrew's screams.

I can't see Emma anymore, not that it matters. Her happiness only makes the pit in my stomach widen. This isn't how this was supposed to feel like. The hope Andrew gave me yesterday is now a hollow pit.

"Are you okay?" A soft voice whispers near my cheek.

I must have stopped moving. When I turn towards the voice, I notice that people are stuck behind me, staring at me, visibly annoyed. No, not me, my mind sharpens, her. 

 A girl with big doe eyes studies me, and her heart shaped face is twisted in concern, curtained with stringy brunette hair. Her expression makes her face look skeletal, ghostly.

The way she stands, and how her face is sunken in, strikes a chord inside me. The reason tickles the tip of my tongue. 

 I blink, and Andrew kneels in front of me. His eyes are dark and clouded with weariness. His hair is stringy and limp, and his face is sunken in. But his eyes, his eyes reflect hers. My heart races against my chest, and I can't get enough air in my lungs. My chest tightens.

I blink, and he's gone, only the girl's whispered question hangs in the air.

"Mind your own business." Poison spits between my teeth.

I push myself down the hallway. I shove students out of my way, irritation scraping the back of my mind. Their stares bare down on me, judging me. Not just me, but me with her. How dare they? Something whispers to me that they don't know. They don't understand. But I don't care. They will learn.

When I catch up to the other students, Emma's waiting for me. She smiles and waves me over. I try to match her enthusiasm. The hallway finally breaks and students file into double doors. When I shuffle through, the room blooms into an auditorium, and it is decorated from ceiling to floor in white and ivory with hints of ocean blue in the tiled walls. Rows and rows of seats face a screen.

It reminds me of one of those cinema theaters that I read about for a history class. It's odd to think that people would dress up to watch a new movie, instead of downloading it to their tablet.

Emma and I shuffle into our seats. She still has a big smile plastered on her face, completely oblivious to my sour mood. I scan the other students, looking for anyone I recognize. There are familiar faces. Names of people brush my mind. I connect them with school functions, councils, or parties. All of them were nice, open to me. But fake all the same.

"Emma, where's Jessica?" I ask, still looking over faces.

Emma blinks, "Didn't you see?"

Andrew's terrified face flashes through my mind. My palms start to sweat.

"No." The word comes out like a question.

Emma's eyebrows pinch. "Jessica was escorted out of the Testing Room." She leans closer, her voice shallow, "I think she asked for a Retake. I guess those tutors her daddy paid for didn't help."

Emma giggles and watches me expectantly. I give her a smile before fixing my attention on the screen. The light deems, and the screen comes to life. The Great City's emblem dances on the screen and then vanishes. The woman from the Test appears. She smiles with deep purple lips, and her face is pulled tightly. She is in the same business suit with the ruffled top.

"Congratulations! You have passed the Test with flying colors." Her voice is high and perky. Each word she speaks in punctuated, like a punch to the stomach. "To be rewarded, you will spend your life in the luxurious Innercity, the home of the most important jobs including, but not limited to: doctors, lawyers, financial advisers, and of course, Test administrators."

As she speaks, the screen shows pictures of smiling workmen and women. "For the next three months, you will undergo training and testing to assure your best placement in the Innercity."

The screen changes to show the ITF. It shows picture of students in a lab, students sitting on couches, reading, and students sitting in classrooms. They all have plastered smiles, even when one girl is reading on her tablet.

"After three months, your scores will be evaluated to decide what university you will continue your studies. The ITF was designed to make your transition into the Innercity as pleasant as possible."

The screen moves back to her, and she stands like a statue.

"Your time spent in the ITF are to help you, and there are rules that must be followed while staying." She holds up one finger, "First, no physical assault is allowed." Her second finger, "Second, cheating any way, shape, or form will be punished." Third finger, "Lastly, you are not allowed to leave the ITF until after the three months."

The woman folds her hands behind her, and her cheery smile turns grave. "Any violations of these rules will be punished, and if continuous, will result in a transfer to the Outercity."

The joyous atmosphere that suffocated me, disappears. The silence stretches between all of us. The woman's grave expression melts away into a smile. "Welcome to the rest of your life. May the Great City Prosper."

"May the Great City Prosper." My voice blends into the other hundreds of students filling the auditorium.

The screen turns off and starts to rise into the ceiling, revealing a finely dressed woman. Her hair sits in a bun at the nape of her neck, and she strides across the stage in her blue ivory suit. On her jacket is a glittering pin that is a small recreation of the three towers of ITF.

"Hello. I am Miss Glinda, Headmaster of the ITF. You will address me as Headmaster Glinda." Her wave is conservative, controlled. This makes my body pull upward, straight as the towers themselves. "Welcome to our Facility. Though that word is a little harsh. I like to think of this training facility as a family, all of us being a cohesive team. Our only goal," she stops in the middle of the stage with her eyebrow raised, "is to help you start the rest of your life."

Everyone starts clapping, a few people whoop and yell. Headmaster Glinda raises her hand, and everyone draws silent. My eyebrow cocks up, impressed by her presence in the room. It reminds me of Mother.

"All of your things have been taken to your dorm rooms. On your tablets, you should have your room assignments." Everyone's tablets Bing. My own vibrates in my pocket. I take it out and unfold it until it sits in my palm. A notification shines on my home screen.

"Ah, so you've gotten them." She smiles sheepishly, but she doesn't look the least bit surprised.

As soon as the words PASS appeared on our testing screen, our information was absorbed by ITF. It's a little unsettling to know that they have access to everything, but what could they even do with that information? It's not like we're criminals.

Everyone fiddles with their tablets and conversations rock the room. I don't bother to look, my attention never leaving the Headmaster. Something whispers to me that if I want to do well in the ITF, she is someone to get close to.

"Damn it! We aren't roommates." Emma whines next to me.

My attention snaps to her. "What?"

She motions to her tablet, but I ignore her screen. I didn't think about having roommates. I pray to the Great City that I got a daughter from some oxygen company, tablet manufacture, or something. My chest sags when I see a picture of Jennifer Colden. She wasn't from our school, but I remember my father did a case for a Mr. Colden's company: Cold Wind Industries. His daughter or niece will be a good connection to have.

I stroll down and see that I have another roommate. Her big dark eyes look startled, and her stringy hair is pulled into a ponytail, making her head look almost bald. Even in a picture she looks tiny.

My breath hitches, and Emma reads over my shoulder.

"Oh. My. City." Emma breathes.

"She's from the Outercity." I can already taste its ash in my mouth.