The Test

Fifteen

A few hours before dawn

The hole in my heart has not yet healed; perhaps because there is no hole. Our breakup hasn't left me scarred, just a kittle shocked, a little sad. I'd never really emotionally invested anything in him, so there was nothing to break - in fact, I'm only shocked as to the matter of his kissing Alina - the rest, I can't say I'm surprised about, only resigned. I knew it would come. Honestly, I thought I'd have to be the one to say I don't actually love you - can we end things, please? In a way I'm rather glad I didn't.

But for the last three hours, since I woke from my fitful sleep, this is what I have been doing: playing guitar in the dark with Vi and singing made-up lyrics to songs we know, and turning over, churning, thoughts of him.

The world is silent all around us, and dappled with the pink buttery light of early morning. I've just fallen into the rhythm of this new, kind-of-contented silence, so unlike the fraught and fragile things, so easy to break, that I've known out here for so long; when a shadow falls across my path. At first, I think it's Zach, back again for more torment. But then I register Luc's stricken expression and wild, searching eyes. They land on my face, take in where I'm leaning against the alley wall in the same position I have been all night, largely unchanged.

"Anya," he chokes out. People begin to look up at his voice, the only real word anyone has spoken in hours.

What? I think frantically. What?

I know his words are only for me.

"There's been a raid. In uptown." I'm sorry, his eyes tell me, pleading. There's a chance that it might be your parents.

My eyes snap to his face. No.

I lurch to my feet and repeat the word, voicing my horror. "No."

He starts forward as I rush toward the mouth of the alley from where I had been hiding in the shadows, tripping over sleeping people as I go; Luc barely managing to grasp my arm before I'm shaking him off and starting to run. I hear him curse behind me, shouting, "Dammit, Anya, wait-" as he trips over those same people that had hindered my escape before.

And then I'm out of the alleyway and running, as fast as my legs will carry me, in the direction of my parents' apartment, leaving him to catch up.

People start to wake, I can tell - we aren't that far away from the alley - as he shouts - "Anya! WAIT!" and runs full speed to catch up to me. "Whoa. You run fast when you're angry." He tries to joke.

I turn to look at him.

"I'm not angry, Luc." I swallow. "I'm terrified."

He stops. "Oh. Of course. God, I'm sorry - dammit. I always mess up around you, don't I?" He grimaces and runs a hand through his hair. Then he turns to look at me. "How did you know? That it might be-?"

I shrug as well as possible while running. "I could just tell. Your eyes betray everything."

He chuckles. "Oh, crap. I'll try keep my eyes averted, then."

I laugh. "You can't hide anything from me, Montero."

He chuckles ironically. "Yeah, I know."

When we get to the edge of the posh end of town, we slow down to a walk. "Do you think people will talk?" About how familiar we are with each other? They were sure to notice. Of course they noticed. Everyone noticed him call me Anya, and everyone knows he's the only one allowed to call me that- they're going to think we're together-

For some reason, the thought doesn't gross me out.

He shrugs. "I hope not." His tone seems to convey everything his words do not: I don't want to lose your friendship because of their assumptions.