The Test

Five

Three weeks later

I slip out of bed, blinking drowsily in the morning sun, taking a look around my room as I automatically slip on the skintight black pants and long-sleeved black tee I managed to salvage on my most recent raid. I've been called up three more times since that first one, and eventually, I've grown used to the sick feeling of anticipation and dread curdling in my stomach every time I see my name on a list of six people marked RAID TEAM.

Today is no different; although today I'll be feeling the dread more than anything else. What if he doesn't come home?

I slip on my boots, feeling for the small knife I tucked in there the other day, breathing a sigh of relief when I find it there at the bottom, and glance around at my room, checking the simple whitewashed walls and the bunk beds stacked against one wall for anything I've forgotten, and when I find nothing, of course I check out the small square window to see if the raid truck is coming rumbling down the track. So far, nothing. I've checked three times in the half hour I allowed myself to have before training starts. I don't know if that borders on obsessive, but I think it comes pretty close.

I remember with a pang the Returning held a week after my first raid; how everyone dressed up in whatever they could find (the few dresses I still own came in useful,) and danced until dawn to celebrate the return of their loved ones. To celebrate our return.

I remember how Zach walked up, grinning, to where I was sitting on the sidelines, and grabbed both my hands, pulling me to my feet. "Come on, Ana. You shouldn't have to sit there on the sidelines all night on your first Returning."

I didn't have time to explain that I was waiting for Vi, who was still dancing and had told me to meet her at our table, before he was tugging me closer and leading me onto the dance floor. We danced for the next three songs, and I could see Vi smiling at me, now sitting at our table, and laughing at something someone beside her said.

After about two hours, Zach pulled me aside. "I'd really like to see you again, Ana." he said, smiling down at me. We walked out of the main barn, where the long tables had been pushed to the sides so people could sit, clearing a space in the middle large enough for people to dance, and into the courtyard. I'd ended up pressed against the wall, his arms forming a cage of protection around me as his hands fell to my waist.

I stiffened at the touch, starting to pull away, before being stopped by his hand at my chin. His eyes met mine, alight with something I could not name. Desire? But how could that be? I'd only known him a week. Lust, then. I looked up at him, somehow confused. I knew I should be handling this better, but somehow I wasn't. "Zach," I whispered, causing him to smile. "I...we can't do this," I said, watching as the smile fell from his face.

"Why not?" he'd asked, perplexed. I could see the clear message in his eyes: I thought you wanted me. Don't you?

"Because I'm not sure how I feel about you," I said, pushing his arms to his sides and stepping out of his embrace. "I mean, we've only known each other a week."

He nodded. "I understand." he turned to go back inside, and his dejection was clear from the way he walked. "Wait," I'd called to him, jogging to catch up. "Yes?" he asked, hope rekindled in his eyes.

"Can I dance with you, at least?"

He grinned, offering me his arm, and laughed as I took it. "Of course," he said, leading me back inside.

We've been dating for the last three weeks, and I'm still not sure how I feel about him - whether I'm actually in love, or I'm just humouring him...I have no clue. But he kissed me during the dance we shared after being in the courtyard, and I let him, therefore accepting his unspoken question by default. I am his girlfriend now.