-Ky-Tsung-

As usual, I was late waking up. The hardest feeling for me is waking up in the morning,

since my mind is still half-dreaming about stuff better than cold air and loud morning

alarms. Last night the same dream happened again.

She was there, still standing out despite the bright colors of the forests in California. Laughing.

Racing with me.

Having deep talks with me.

Then, gone. Ran off with another guy, not me.

Not with me, her best friend who she shared everything, who knew her favorite time of

day to the deepgolden color her hair turned when the sun was setting to her personal

secrets that she didn't tell to any other Invalids in our Los Angeles group. 

Talk about being friend-zoned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After taking a quick shower and throwing some clothes on, I went into the main room of

the apartment to get some breakfast that my friend Min-Jung cooked up. Unlike me, he

actually knows how to cook stuff other than Ramen.

The apartment that me and my close friend Min-Jung is staying in is actually pretty high-

class, with fourseparate rooms. Sometimes, I wonder where the Invalids get so much

money, and why they are sending me and my friend halfway across the world here to Hong

Kong to infiltrate the government here and report back to them occasionally. It probably

has something to do that we're part of the few Asians in the Los Angeles Invalids group,

but being so far away from my hometown still has me on edge.

It doesn't matter that I was born and raised among the Los Angeles Invalids, and that all

my friends are also Invalids. We're only 16-year-old teens, for Pete's sake.

I feel out of my element here, anyway. There are hardly any Invalids here, whereas Los

Angeles had a huge underground network of the resistance. "We're leaving in a bit.

Remember to take your new schedule with you. Have your ID ready too so it shows that

you're 16 instead of 15 so people won't double-check us for amor deliria nervosa. We

don't want to raise any more suspicion than we already have," Min-Jung tells me as

he's typing away on his phone. His coffee sits untouched on the pristine counter.

"Yeah, good morning too you too," I reply through mouthfuls of cereal and milk. The Los

Angeles Invalids hooked us up with fake IDs that proclaimed that we were 16, when if

fact we were still both 15. Perks of being part of a rebel group, even if it means looking

over your shoulder all the time.

Min-Jung looks up from his phone. "Hey, about the break-in last night. I don't know which

Invalid group carried that out, although I suspect it's the Portland one because they

arrived right before we did."

"When do they want us to carry out one?" I ask him. Adrenaline quietly surges through my

bloodstream as I remember the only breach that I was part of last year scared the crap

out of me, but it was literally one of the best and most successful moments of my life. It

made me feel that I belonged to part of the Invalids, completely and utterly.

"Soon," he replies as he slings his backpack over one shoulder and starts toward the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Flexi-Tube here is ten times better than the ghetto one at Los Angeles. Everything

here in Hong Kong is just ten times better than Los Angeles, period. The streets are

cleaner, the buildings higher and more modern, and the Flexi-Tube is transparent and

feels faster than the one in LA (even though that was already exceeding 150 miles per

hour).

Transparent. So you can see everybody and everybody can see you. Here in Hong Kong, I

would have to be even more cautious about my identity.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Before I saw her, everything was great.

My day was actually going quite smoothly. Not only did Hong Kong Central High have a

beautiful campus, great teachers, large classrooms, and just the right amount of students,

the building was massive, with solar-powered lights high above on the tall ceilings and walls

of glass. It would be easy to blend in here. Conformity was the norm.

The Cureds that I hung out with (since I was 16) were all airhead guys who just rambled

on and on about sports. There were almost no Cureds who I could strike up an intelligient

conversation with. I sat with them during lunch, and told them that I moved here with my

"family" a week ago and was transitioning in. They werewarm about it and offered me the

chance to work out with them or join their clubs and teams.

Then World History came along, and I was just sitting in my seat, looking around, when she

walked in. She seemed different than the other girls around school. (Not that they

weren't good-looking, but you know... conformity isn't always attractive). It was the way

she carried herself and the set determination in her eyes, like if you were to cross paths

with her she would stare you down. Her clothes were still as "in-season" or whatever as

the other girls, though, and her brown hair was straight as with all the other Asian girls

here.

However, the moment she walked in, she met my eyes and in that split second, it seemed

as if she knew or realized something. I was scared that she knew something about me, for

some reason. Was she part of the Invalids here in Hong Kong? Did she like me or

something? Or did she know that I was an Invalid from merely glancing at me and was

going to turn me in to the officials to have an early procedure and...

Stop. You're getting fed up. It's only a glance from a girl. No big deal. Chill out. My mind

raced and I had to casually wipe my hands on my pants. What? What is it? I wanted to ask

her, but I knew I couldn't without raising immediate suspicion because, of course, guys and

girls can hardly look at each other anymore due to the fear of contracting amor deliria

nervosa.

Talking to her would have to wait until later.