"What?" I repeat.

"I'm sorry," Stephen begs. "I'm so sorry, Holland, you have no idea."

I blink a few times, my gaze shifted right above his shoulder. Stephen turns away from me, pushing his hands fiercely through his hair. He glares at the city as if it should destroy him into a million pieces. Mumbling words that are stolen by the wind, he cowers over the roof's ledge.

I stare at the blank space Stephen occupied for a really long time. Then I say quietly, "I'm not mad."

Stephen's head turns so one of his ears face me. His shoulder stay sagged. I almost see that yellow gauntness in his cheeks again.

"I'm not mad," I repeat, louder. "It's not all your fault."

I step closer to the wall, resting my hands inches away from Stephen's elbow. "I got screened the same day you did, Stephen. A partial screening, yeah, but I'm just as much a threat to society as you are. It's okay that you hid your secret from me. I did the same thing. Plus I ruined Philly for us both, and I'm sorry."

I sigh. "Everyone has secrets, especially us."

Stephen exhales. "Then what are we going to do? These Project people aren't going to let us walk free forever, not as upper-class Screeners."

"I don't know either, Stephen, I just don't know."

My chest begins to feel like it's compressing in on itself. Without even thinking, I wrap my arm around Stephen's forearm, resting my head on his shoulder. After a moment, I feel his cheek press on top of my head like puzzle piece clicking silently into place.

We stay like that until the lights behind us switch off and my arm unlinks from his. We walk back across the dimly-lit roof, down through the restaurant, close to each other's sides. Taking a quiet stroll, Stephen leads us back to the apartments interns presumably live in before their Equinoxes.

We take an elevator to floor 50, stepping into a light blue-carpeted hallway with ceiling lamps and no windows. I walk with Stephen to the last two doors directly across from each other, one labeled RENNER and the other saying MOORE.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Stephen Moore," I say with the remnants of a smile. I press my thumb through a hologram, my apartment door unlocking with a click.

"Holland?"

"Yeah?" I half-turn around.

Stephen suddenly presses his lips against mine, his hand settling around my cheeks. Every cell in my body beats with attraction. Stephen's lips graze mine as he pulls away ever-so-slightly.

"Your work shift starts at 10 tomorrow," he whispers.

I exhale a quiet laugh. "How intimate of you to tell me."

"The pleasure is mine, 400."

"And mine as well," I grin. "Go to bed, 399." I kiss him back boldly before stepping dazed into my own apartment. Tingling, I still feel the shadows of his hands and lips on me. I drag my own hands through my hair in total disbelief. I can't believe that just happened.

I blink a few times at the floor before waking through the apartment in a starstruck trance. Beige carpeting flawlessly matches the pale blue wall hangings and sofas. I circle past the living room and enter a small bedroom with a closet of upper-class clothing.

I gather pajamas and step into the shower located near the front door. I stand in the steamy glass stall for a full half an hour, replaying one of the best moments of my life over and over again.

After another few seconds in the shower, I realize that the Equinox won't protect us. The faucet water turns icy, signaling my time is up. I step out of the shower. Will the Equinoxes tear us apart for good? Or will the Project do it first?

-- -- -- -- --

I wake up the next morning, refreshed. I dress in a collared blouse and ponytail before washing up in the bathroom. After reciting the mandatory pledge into the AirPhone I find, I enter my kitchen. Stepping onto the PrintPad, I grab a NutriBar from the cabinet like old times. The sensation fills me with haunting deja vu.

Shaking my head at myself, I sit on the window sill, the sun streaking the carpet. The clock ticks by as I increasingly dread 10 o'clock, the time in which I become a Screener again. Nothing feels real to me anymore, like this is all a messed-up dream. Too bad I can't wake up or pinch myself awake.

Being the stupid person I am, I pinch the skin on my forearm, just to make sure. My body reacts with the normal pain. To my disappointment, I don't find myself laying in a bed at home.

Then it hits me. Again.

My temples burn in white-hot pain. I cringe, and they zap again, this time a for longer amount of time. I call out in pain, hugging my head in between my knees.

Another zap, another groan from my throat. I grit my teeth as more flashes electrify my entire head.

Zap. Zap. Zap. After a minute if excruciating pain, I end up keeled over on the floor, panting. Using the nearby sofa for support, I shakily climb to my feet.

Sharply, my back stiffens and my limbs straighten themselves out. The feeling always means the same thing: the Enhancement Project has gotten its control back once more.

My body walks itself out of my apartment, Stephen's doing the same from feet away. He blinks rapidly, and I reply with my own blinking pattern. We walk in sync down the carpeted hall, stern looks commanding our faces. I can feel a glare forming from my features, yet once again, I receive no explanation. The Project is back to controlling us.

We reach the elevator, and the doors close when Stephen pushes the down button. My heart twinges unexpectedly as I watch his left hand twitch towards mine. I might have imagined the twitch, but it gives me an inspiring idea.

I take a deep breath, collecting my energy to prepare myself. Then I mentally yell, scream, and fight to make my right hand move. I force all of my effort into long, haunting, silent screams. "Move, you stupid hand!"

My right hand shakes intensely and links sporadically with Stephen's. As I recover from the effort, no mechanical forces untwine our fingers. Maybe they think we'll look less robotic if we hold hands. Or maybe no one knows I just outsmarted the Project.

Stephen and I march out of the elevator, striding through the blue lobby and into the street. People of middle and lower class hustle out of our way. They think we have power, with our fierce faces and strong strides, but we have no control over anything.

After changing into my Screener uniforms, I'm led to the same guarding spot I stood at yesterday, right near the beginning of the bridge. Daylight gives the city a less exciting look.

A midday report announces today's date: September 4th. 17 days until the Autumnal Equinox. I sigh as the hours of guarding slowly slide by. The temperature climbs steadily.

"Call Stephen," I announce, my helmet connecting me with him seamlessly. I decide to push my worries away for the time being. "399, I seem to be suffering from an extreme overdose of boredom."

He chuckles. "Same here."

"How is this even an upper-class job?" I ask, "This is kind of easy, don't you think?"

"Holy sh--" I hear Stephen gasp. Without warning, a bomb explodes from a nearby street corner. The impact throws my rigid self to the ground, my temperature gauge shooting up. Thick black smoke billows heavily into the air as another bomb goes off.

"Guns out, guns out!" the commander yells into our ear pieces, "Shoot any threats immediately."

My head beats in electrical pain as my body stands up faster than I would have told it to. I pull a gun out of my hip holster, aiming it across the street just like all the other Screeners do. Some of the guards bolt towards the fires while others stick their ground.

Part of my visor glitches into gray fuzzy stripes. A loud message blasts into my earpiece:

WE WARNED YOU. NOW WE'RE COMING FOR YOUR PEOPLE.

Battle cries echo around, and savage screams sound in the distance. My feet abandom my position, jogging for the city. People with dirty faces and weird-colored clothes run free, smashing glass windows with rocks. I continue to run, spotting three people half a block away setting up a wired device.

My arms shake hard, attempting to aim the gun directly at a young boy. Each of my temples zap to a different, erratic pattern. The boy, maybe 10 or 11, reminds me of the subjects Stephen was forced to pick from SkyTrain 267-B: faceless, unfamiliar, and innocent.

My mind buzzes. This is all wrong. I don't want to kill anyone, regardless of whether or not I'm the one who pulls the trigger. Nobody should be dying today.

I yell at my hands to drop the gun, spitting profanities as I strain against an invisible grip. My temples flare with a billion volts of power, and I stumble to the side. My hands release the pistol as more shouts dominate the streets.

The three bomber runs past me in a frenzy to flee from their deadly creation. I regain my balance and run after them, the street already clear of people.

A bomb explodes behind me, and I'm tossed in slow motion through the air. Flames and heat burst around me, searing my uniform. As soon as my stomach hits the ground, time speeds up again. I bounce twice and roll a few feet on the pavement. Writhing in pain, my gut aches terribly.

The ringing of my ears hits me next, eliminating my ability to listen properly. A few whispery shouts hum from afar, the voices warped and cloudy.

I focus my eyesight on the pavement inches from my helmet, clawing towards the voices. A wave of heat singes at my uniform, destined to touch my skin. I could pass out any second.

A skimpy bolt of unnatural pain attempts to electrify my skull. I scream out, my eyes watering from the heat of the explosion instead. My body jerks itself, and I slam the back of my helmet on the ground. Smoke and ash fill my sight, and I try to scramble a few feet towards where safety might be.

The corners of my vision turn a spotty white that drowns in blackness. Excruciating heat tries to char me, daring me to pass out. I can't resist the temptation much longer...

I don't think of Stephen when I'm overtaken by unconsciousness. For all I know, he could have been swallowed up by the flames a long time ago. Just like me.

-- -- -- -- --

the blast indeed won. i liked that choice the best, and i really wanted it to win! keep voting for your favorites because you're changing the book's course as i write it.

Question: Pick a phrase: a "rewarding" honor, a "subtle" change, or a "rebel's" conviction.

Follow-up Question: Unscramble as many of the following words as you can (winners recieve dedications or other fun prizes):

•‌heatcenenmn

•iijectnno

•ifre

•htnespe

•ikynstar

•reesnerc