-Ky-Tsung-

 

     We were getting back our huge World History packets that we turned in last week. Our packet was more than

7 pages, front and back, and was assigned Monday and due Wednesday. I swear, all the teachers here at Hong

Kong are crazy when it comes to homework. It seems as if this class is the only class that gives out paper

homework instead of typed homework, unfortunately.

 

Mrs. Hu looks up and scans the class. "Who wants to pass back homework?"

 

Immediately, Chi-ya's hand pops up, and she gets up to take the massive mountain of papers.

 

Today, Chi-ya looks calm and chill, nothing like she did Friday night.

 

I keep my gaze on her as she passes back the packets, one by one, going down the rows. When she gets to me,

she reaches into her sleeve and pretends to scratch her wrist, but I know something is up. She doesn't look at

me as she almost slaps the packet against my desk. Ouch. Obviously, she's mad at me.

 

I open up the packet and immediately see a white sticky note hidden on the second page. Glancing around, I read

it quickly.

 

Meet me at the alley at 6 tonight.

 

So it was all out on the table. She remembered and knew what happened Friday night. I don't know how much she

remembered; I'm torn in wanting her to know everything that happened but then again, I only want her to

remember bits of it. I read it again, and again, and even when I close my eyes I see her neat print flashing

behind in my vision. Why did she want to meet me? She remembered Friday night... what was she going to do?

Talk to me about it and...what?

 

I glance over to her now as she is making her way down the desk aisles back to her seat. She looks unfazed, as if

nothing has happened, as if she didn't paste the sticky note on my packet inviting me to see her, one-on-one,

after school.

 

I hardly even see the teacher's 40/40 in purple pen on the last page.

 

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

 

-Chi-ya-

 

     The glass of the Flexi-tube reflected back a slightly angry-looking girl. She blinked and crossed her

legs, fiddling with her phone and on her way to meet a guy, but not in the way people would think.    

 

I could barely even reach for my phone Saturday morning and call home because my head hurt so

much. But by some miracle, Yu-Lan managed to find me wandering around the boat house, not really talking

to anyone near the end of the party, and then I passed out and completely forgot the ride home that Shi-

Kong offered us in her car. We couldn't really make it home on the Flexi-tube due to my state. How

embarrassing. My pants were soaked with beer and I had to wash them at her apartment before I went

home later that day.

 

I woke up Saturday morning and immediately remembered last night. And I was furious that Ky-Tsung had

managed to take advantage of my oblivious night and make it even more complicated, when I just wanted to

be away from reality for a few hours to get my head out of school and have fun with friends. That jerk,

ruining my night. I couldn't wait to get even in the alley.

 

I was going to tell Ky-Tsung off in the alley, and go to work after that. So far, it was all I

could do to not turn him in as an Invalid because he saved my life from that other Invalid that was about to

shoot me. But that didn't mean I couldn't strongly dislike him for so many things that happened these past

few weeks.

 

Dancing with me, first of all. That was just unacceptable in Hong Kong for Uncureds. And he knew I was an

Uncured. Second, being an Invalid, of course. I kind of want to punch him for going in there, wrecking the

place- my workplace, mind you- and getting me out of there. Then there was that sweatshirt thing. It was

downright creepy that his sweatshirt smelled the same as the guy in my black and white dreams that

stopped after the breach. Now I dream of him, and in my dreams he's always nice and we seem to get along

but I know nothing will ever happen between us. It can't in today's society. I'll be contracting Amor Deliria

Nervosa. The thought terrifies me quite frankly.

 

The thing was, at least he was a Cured. Wouldn't this kind of count as cheating on his pair, though? Dancing

with another girl? My head swum and I wanted to stop thinking about him. Across the seat from me, a girl

and her pair were wearing matching sweaters, sitting side by side in silence. I averted my eyes.

 

The Flexi-Tube stopped and I got off, quickly walking with my head down as the chilly winter wind ripped

through my coat.

 

I walked the first few minutes trying to think about what to say when I first walk up to him. "Cheater,"

"you screwed up my Friday night," "I'm going to turn you in to the officials", "I hate you so much" all

seemed like great intros. Yet I still think he's a mystery that frustrates me. He's nice but in the worst

way, given that he manages to save me from trouble and get me in trouble at the same time. Thinking this, I

think my mind is wired to dislike the opposite gender. I also think I was nice to him Friday night when I was

drunk. That was bad.

 

After this meeting, I would sever all ties with him. It was too dangerous for me to talk to a guy, even if he

was a Cured. I'm Uncured and that was what mattered in terms of getting in trouble or getting caught. No

more talking or sweatshirts or dancing. Nothing. It went way too far during the party.

 

"Chi-ya," a voice calls from further ahead.

 

With a start, I look up and see Ky-Tsung standing in the alley, wearing a sweatshirt and a

smile.

 

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

 

Seeing him smile when he obviously saw the frown on my face was the thing that really ticked me off. I

stalked up to him and slapped him across the face, hard.

 

The sound revertebrated in the empty alley. He looks at me in disbelief and I'm just about to regret

slapping him when he says, "Good to see you, too."

 

"I'm not going to talk to you ever again. If I see you come close to me one more time, I'll turn you in to the

officials. Don't even think about bringing up last night." The words pour out of my mouth and I realize my

fists are clenched, hidden in the sleeves of my coat.

 

He looks at me, his right cheek slowly becoming more and more red. "Sounds fair." He lowers his gaze to the

ground.

 

I let out a shaky sigh and turn away from him, throwing my hands in the air. "I'm sorry for slapping you. I

just don't know what to think." I keep my gaze focused on the alley wall, and behind me, I can hear him

walking towards me. "It's just that I can't stop thinking about that crazy breach, and the stupid

sweatshirt thing, and that party Friday, and-" I stop. No, I can't tell him about my dreams. That's too

awkward.

 

I turn around and face him. He's so close to me now, only one foot away. Closer than even my dad or mother

or sister ever comes. So close that I could see the light brown flecks in his eyes.

 

His eyes. I don't think anyone should look at someone else the way he was looking at me right now.

 

"And I can't stop thinking about you either," he says.

 

I break his gaze and look down to pretend to examine my shoes. "Go home," I force out. "Go home and talk

to your pair instead of hanging around me."

 

There's a short silence and he takes a step back. "Chi-ya," he almost whispers. "I have no pair."

 

I squeeze my eyes and feel the world swoon. I'm happy, I'm terrified, I'm angry, I'm confused.

"You're... an Uncured, just like me?"

 

"Yes," he replies. "I'm 15."

 

I feel light-headed and I don't know how I'm still standing upright. "Do you know what happens to Uncureds

who are caught together?" My voice breaks and I don't think I've ever been this nervous before. Was I

already infected? 

 

"I do," he says back. "But do you know what'll happen if they don't get caught?"

 

I shake my head and look up. "Don't even go there."

 

"They feel it all the time. They're the lucky ones. They feel amor deliria nervosa."

 

"They're not lucky. What is wrong with you? They're going to die insane." Stop, stop, stop. Stop talking to

him.

 

"Or that's what the government says."

 

I realized he did have a point. But... "None of your Invalid friends are insane from amor deliria nervosa? For

all I know, you could be insane!"

 

He shakes his head. "You've never even felt amor deliria nervosa, Chi-Ya."

 

"And you have?" I demanded.

 

He looks out, and his faraway gaze seems to travel past the Hong Kong skyline. "I think I have. Once. And it

was not like what you would think."

 

I can't say that I'm not curious. "What was it like?" Somehow, saying these words felt wrong. Intrusive.

 

He shakes his head and looks back at me. "I'd have to show you."

 

"What are you talking about?" Why did he have to be so mysterious?

 

"But not here." He takes out the crumpled sticky note I slipped inside his packet earlier today and a pen.

He scribbles something quickly on the back and hands it to me. I take it carefully, making sure our hands

didn't touch.

 

"Burn the note at home," he says. He flashes me a smile and turns around, walking out of the alley. He

pauses and turns around. "Oh yeah- this is your choice to visit. Don't turn me in."

 

The note was simple.

 

Rooftop of Sun apartment, 10 PM, Saturday