I SET MY watch alarm for ten o’clock and fall asleep right away, without even shifting to a comfortable position. A few hours later the beeps don’t wake me, but the frustrated shout of someone across the room does. I turn off the alarm, run my fingers through my hair, and half walk, half jog to one of the emergency staircases. The exit at the bottom will let me out in the alley, where I probably won’t be stopped.
Once I’m outside, the cool air wakes me up. I pull my sleeves down over my fingers to keep them warm. Summer is finally ending. There are a few people milling around the entrance to Erudite headquarters, but none of them notices me creeping across Michigan Avenue. There are some advantages to being small.
I see Tobias standing in the middle of the lawn, wearing mixed faction colors—a gray T-shirt, blue jeans, and a black sweatshirt with a hood, representing all the factions my aptitude test told me I was qualified for. A backpack rests against his feet.
“How did I do?” I say when I’m close enough for him to hear me.
“Very well,” he says. “Evelyn still hates you, but Christina and Cara have been released without questioning.”
“Good.” I smile.
He pinches the front of my shirt, right over my stomach, and tugs me toward him, kissing me softly.
“Come on,” he says as he pulls away. “I have a plan for this evening.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, well, I realized that we’ve never been on an actual date.”
“Chaos and destruction do tend to take away a person’s dating possibilities.”
“I would like to experience this ‘date’ phenomenon.” He walks backward, toward the mammoth metal structure at the other end of the lawn, and I follow him. “Before you, I only went on group dates, and they were usually a disaster. They always ended up with Zeke making out with whatever girl he intended to make out with, and me sitting in awkward silence with some girl that I had somehow offended in some way early on.”
“You’re not very nice,” I say, grinning.
“You’re one to talk.”
“Hey, I could be nice if I tried.”
“Hmm.” He taps his chin. “Say something nice, then.”
“You’re very good-looking.”
He smiles, his teeth a flash in the dark. “I like this ‘nice’ thing.”
We reach the end of the lawn. The metal structure is larger and stranger up close than it was from far away. It’s really a stage, and arcing above it are massive metal plates that curl in different directions, like an exploded aluminum can. We walk around one of the plates on the right side to the back of the stage, which rises at an angle from the ground. There, metal beams support the plates from behind. Tobias secures his backpack on his shoulders and grabs one of the beams. Climbing.
“This feels familiar,” I say. One of the first things we did together was scale the Ferris wheel, but that time it was me, not him, who compelled us to climb higher.
I push up my sleeves and follow him. My shoulder is still sore from the bullet wound, but it is mostly healed. Still, I bear most of my weight with my left arm and try to push with my feet whenever possible. I look down at the tangle of bars beneath me and beyond them, the ground, and laugh.
Tobias climbs to a spot where two metal plates meet in a V, leaving enough room for two people to sit. He scoots back, wedging himself between the two plates, and reaches for my waist to help me when I get close enough. I don’t really need the help, but I don’t say so—I am too busy enjoying his hands on me.
He takes a blanket out of his backpack and covers us with it, then produces two plastic cups.
“Would you like a clear head or a fuzzy one?” he says, peering into the bag.
“Um . . .” I tilt my head. “Clear. I think we have some things to talk about, right?”
“Yes.”
He takes out a small bottle with clear, bubbling liquid in it, and as he twists open the cap, says, “I stole it from the Erudite kitchens. Apparently it’s delicious.”
He pours some in each cup, and I take a sip. Whatever it is, it’s sweet as syrup and lemon-flavored and makes me cringe a little. My second sip is better.
“Things to talk about,” he says.
“Right.”