Taking Donavon’s suggestion, I slept late the next morning. For someone who’d slept for the better part of the past five days, I sure was exhausted. My head throbbed, and thinking of the upcoming day’s events did nothing to alleviate my misery: career fair.

  Every year representatives from the major divisions of TOXIC came to campus and set up booths shortly before the students chose which Placement Exams to take. The event afforded them the opportunity to speak with representatives, decide what career path they wanted to pursue, and, subsequently, which tests they would sit for. Each student would be allowed to select up to three Divisions for which he or she could attempt placement. The students were encouraged to sign up for demonstrations and get one-on-one advice and assistance from Operatives currently working in the sector they wished to join.

  When I was still a student, I’d loved the career fair. I’d loved getting out of classes and seeing the Operatives’ demonstrations. In retrospect, it all seemed rather pointless since, in most cases, students’ Talents and Rankings dictated their placement. Many students hoping for coveted positions began training as young as twelve, the age when students were allowed to start taking electives.

  TOXIC identified strong physical Talents early, and began training them in combat to develop the necessary skills to become a Hunter. Students with strong Higher Reasoning Talents, like Penny, were often pulled from physical training to focus solely on honing and refining their computer skills. Ordinarily, higher-level mental Talents like me were marked for psychic interrogation and took specialized investigative techniques classes. Mac had insisted that I take several interrogation classes, but had fully encouraged my pursuit of the physical ones as well. He’d never doubted that I would become a Hunter, at least not back then.

  Today, I couldn’t muster any of my usual enthusiasm for Career Day. What was I going to say to Erik if—no, when—I saw him? He hadn’t even sent me a heads-up that he was going to be here. Admittedly, I hadn’t called him either. Every time I punched his contact information into my communicator, something stopped me. I wasn’t ready to speak with him, let alone face him.

  With Donavon, I walked the thin line that separated love and hate. With Erik, I walked the line that separated extreme embarrassment and whatever its opposite was. Part of me was thrilled at the prospect of seeing Erik later today, but part of me wanted to crawl back under my covers and stay there until he left. And still another part of me felt awful for feeling any reaction at all. I had no idea what was going on with me and Donavon, but I somehow doubted that I should be in such emotional turmoil over another guy. It was like being back at the beginning of my Pledge year when I’d first developed feelings for Erik that rivaled—and eventually surpassed—my feelings for Donavon.

  A sharp knock at my door brought me out of my tortured reminiscing. I debated staying quiet and seeing if my visitor would leave. Instead, I opened my mind to determine if the person on the other side was someone that I knew; Donavon had promised he’d visit me this morning. When I opened my mind, a mental voice, loud and clear, demanded to be let in: Erik.

  “Tals, I know you’re in there. I can feel you,” Erik called. “Open the door or I will break it down.”

  “I’m still in bed,” I sent.

  “Don’t care,” he shot back.

  “I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.” I tried another tactic. I could imagine him rolling his beautiful turquoise eyes.

  “Tal, I’ve been around you plenty of mornings,” he answered, sounding more than a little impatient. He had a point; we’d shared a cabin for months while I was a Pledge, not to mention several sleepovers the week before I’d left for my solo mission.

  “I don’t want to see you,” I insisted. Even as I sent the words, I knew that they weren’t really true. Now that he was here, standing outside my door, I really wanted to see him, wanted to tell him about everything that had happened since the embarrassing encounter in my bedroom at Headquarters. But his rejection was still fresh in my mind. I’d thrown myself at him, offered him something personal and intimate, and he’d refused me.

  “I kind of figured you felt that way, but I don’t care if you want to see me. I want to see you,” he replied.

  “Why didn’t you call me then?” I demanded. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were coming if you wanted to see me so badly?”

  “Please, Tals. Let me in, so we can talk,” he urged.

  I let out a frustrated noise that Erik must’ve taken for acquiescence because I heard the lock click and the door swinging open. The bed sagged under his weight as Erik perched on the edge. He ripped the covers off of my head, and I was left staring at two sparking turquoise gems. The sunlight streaming through the small window next to my bed lit up his dark hair as he nervously ran his long fingers through the heavy strands that hung low over his forehead. Thin lines creased the corners of the tan skin around his mouth. His mouth. I wanted to touch the soft pink bottom lip that he was biting down on.

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  “Hey,” he said softly, anxiety clouding his normally carefree expression.

  “Hey,” I mumbled back. He stared into my eyes, and I felt a hundred unspoken messages pass between us. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he broke eye contact.

  “I brought you breakfast,” he said, tentatively holding up a bag. I sat up and grabbed the bag out of his hand, then peered inside.

  “Chocolate muffins. My favorite,” I said grudgingly.

  “Peace offering,” he answered sheepishly. “Now scoot over so I can get comfy while we eat.” I hesitated for a heartbeat before obligingly scooting toward the wall to make room. Erik kicked his flip flops off and crawled in next to me. I handed him one of the muffins, and we munched in companionable silence.

  “So, are you going to tell me why haven’t called me in nearly a year?” I asked, licking the chocolate crumbs off my fingers.

  “You could’ve called me,” he replied gently. “Last time I checked, your communicator makes outgoing calls.”

  “That’s not an answer,” I shot back, refusing to turn and look at him. Now that we were done eating, I was acutely aware of his leg pressed against mine.

  Erik heaved a huge sigh. “I really wanted to,” he began, brushing his fingertips over the back of my hand. I didn’t pull away, but I didn’t encourage him either. Erik swallowed thickly before continuing. “At first, I wasn’t allowed to. Captain Alvarez refused to even tell us where you were. All he would say is that you were recovering and couldn’t be disturbed.” Erik paused, seeming to weigh his next words carefully.

  “And then?” I prompted, trying to ignore the feel of his skin against mine. I wanted to be angry with him, but his touch made it hard.

  “I don’t know exactly. I figured that if you wanted to talk to me . . . well, you’d call.” He shifted uneasily and threw his muffin wrapper in the metal wastebasket next to my desk. “I mean, Tal, I gave you that letter…” Erik’s voice trailed off. He moved his hand from mine and clasped it with the other one resting in his lap.

  “I didn’t know what to say,” I whispered. “Mac wouldn’t let me talk to anyone, really, until last week. When he finally let me out of my bedroom to do something other than physical therapy or blood testing—”

  “Blood testing?” he cut me off, his body tensing and alarm radiating from his pores.

  “Yeah,” I answered. “I was injected with…something in Nevada, and whatever the chemical is has been causing seizures.” I chanced a look at Erik out of the corner of my eye. His eyes had grown wide, and his arm twitched like he was going to wrap it around me but thought better of it.

  “What chemical? Doesn’t Medical have a cure or antidote or whatever?” he asked.

  “Medical doesn’t know what the chemical is. And they can’t scrub it out of my blood,” I replied, shuddering at the thought of the foreign drug infecting my body. Just minutes ago, I’d desperately wanted to tell Erik all about the seizures, but his reaction made me regret my decision. Waves of anger rolled from his mind, and he ground his back teeth together in an effort to retain his composure.

  “What are they doing about it?” he asked slowly, again measuring his words.

  “Dr. Thistler, this high-ranking Medical woman, gives me daily injections. They’re supposed to, like, neutralize the compound or something.”

  “And does that work?” his tense body language belied his neutral tone.

  “For the most part. When I get overly stimulated, though, I sometimes still have seizures,” I mumbled.

  Erik reached for me, wrapping his strong arms around my waist, and lifting me into his lap. I rested my head against his chest, and he kissed the crown of my hair. The accelerated beating of his heart thudding against my ear indicated how unnerved my admission had made him.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” he mumbled, moving his mouth close to my ear.

  Warmth spread from where his lips rested in my hair, all the way down to my toes. I wrapped my arms around his body, running my fingers over the planes of his back and feeling the strength of his muscles through his t-shirt. Snuggling closer still, I tightened my grip on him before replying. “I’ve missed you, too.”

  Being with Erik had always been thrilling, intoxicating, and it was now, too, except now I also felt safe. For the first time in months, my world wasn’t crashing in on me. The anger and frustration that constantly bubbled under the surface even quieted. The feeling of instability lessened.

  Neither of us spoke again for a long time. There was so much that I wanted—no, needed—to tell him, but I didn’t want to lose the physical closeness, so I stayed silent. I could tell that he wanted to ask me more, but the news about my medical condition had bothered him and he settled for rubbing my back instead.

  “I’ve got to go help set up for the demonstrations,” he said regretfully, much too soon for my liking. He gently extracted himself from my embrace, and I shifted to face him head-on for the first time since he’d arrived.

  “Will I see you later?” I whispered, chewing my lower lip nervously. He cupped my face with both his hands, gently stroking my cheeks with his thumbs.

  “Of course. We still have a lot to talk about,” he promised. I closed my eyes as he softly brushed his lips across my forehead. Electricity crackled through me, like it did every time his skin made contact with mine. I wanted to beg him to stay; instead, I climbed off his lap and watched him go, in silence.

  Long after Erik left, I sat in my bed, mulling over the way that I felt when I was with him. I recited the words of his note. I thought about Donavon, and how he’d sat with me in Medical for days even after I’d been so horrible to him. I still felt that he deserved a little of my anger, but maybe I could be the bigger person and get past what he’d done to me.

  Finally, when I couldn’t stand to be alone with my own confused thoughts, I showered and pulled on a pair of navy pants and a white cable knit sweater. I left my hair to air-dry, knowing that it was only a matter of time before it was a mass of loose curls. When I looked in the mirror, a pale, drawn face stared back. My purple eyes, normally vibrant and intense, appeared dull and lifeless, the hollows underneath dark and haunted.

  I grabbed a bottle of concealer and smeared liberal amounts over my skin. The makeup erased the death pallor but couldn’t rid my eyes of the ghost of Ernest’s interrogation. His memories still lingered in my mind; every time I closed my eyes, I saw his vacant expression and hated myself a little more.