I park out in front of the building and head quietly up the stairs. No one notices me. I have that knack for blending in so well, being so unobtrusive, that I’m practically invisible. Apartment 3D. I knock on the door and wait quietly for him to let me in.

I feel him look through the peephole at me, that tingly sensation of eyes on you. Then, I hear him unlock the door hurriedly.

“Jennifer!” he exclaims and folds me into a hug, “After the other day I thought you’d never want to see me again. You were acting really weird. I didn’t know what to think. I’m so glad you’re feeling better. You are feeling better, right? Oh, it doesn’t matter. I’m so glad to see you.”

His rambling seems pathetic to me. His words are insignificant, they hold no real meaning. He’s like a stranger to me with no emotional connection to me whatsoever. It’s very strange. It’s almost like I’m not here. I feel cold as I gently push him away.

“Can I come in?” I ask quietly.

“Of course!” Brad says, not noticing my distance.

He motions me inside and I enter, hugging my sides. I move directly to the couch and sit down, pulling my legs up under me. Brad moves towards me and I give him a look that makes him stop and sit in the chair across from me instead of next to me.

“What’s wrong, Jen?” he asks.

“Uh...well...I don’t think I should see you anymore.”

“What?” Brad looks stunned, “Why?”

“It wouldn’t be fair to you. I’m not into this relationship like I should be. You’d be better off with someone else. I hope you have a nice life, Brad.”

I’ve said my piece and I head towards the door. Brad jumps after me and grabs my wrist.

“You think you can just dump this on me and leave like that?” Brad yells at me, “You’re telling me I’ve wasted all this time on you for nothing?”

“Let go of me.” I say icily without turning around.

“I know what’s going on. You were never sick. You had some other guy in there, you whore! I never...” Brad’s grip tightens and he pulls me towards him, grabs my shoulder, shakes me roughly.

“Let go of me, now.” I say in the same quiet, icy voice.

Brad ignores me and continues yelling. He raises his hand to slap me. I’ve had enough. I duck his swing, jerk my wrist out of his grasp and sock him in the stomach. He looks surprised. I quickly leave, gently closing the door. I hear him yell after me, but ignore him. He wants Jennifer. That’s not me. I am Syl and he could never understand me.

I hop back into my car and drive aimlessly for at least an hour. Finally, I sigh and head back towards Zane’s place.

He’s sitting on the porch when I drive up, playing ball with Millie. I sigh because the scene is almost perfect, so normal. You could look at him and never know that, like me, he’s a freak on the run from a secret government agency. You would never know that he has seizures because his brain wirings a little screwy. You would never know that he hides a barcode on the back of his neck, that the name he was born with wasn’t a name at all, but a designation: X5-205.

“She always bring it back?” I ask casually as I get out.

“Most of the time.” Zane says with a grin as he throws the ball again.

“What do you do when she doesn’t?”

“Well, then you have to chase after her and win the ball back.” Zane says, “It’s all part of the game.”

“Can I try?”

“Sure.” he tosses the ball to me as soon as Millie brings it back.

I make a face because the ball is slobbery and toss the ball. Millie tears after it, then runs back, tail wagging.

“You’re a natural.” Zane says.

I smile at him and toss the ball again. Funny how easy it is to please Millie. It must be nice to be a dog.

“Sometimes I think a dog’s life is the best.” Zane says, practically reading my thoughts, “A simple ball makes her so happy.”

I nod in agreement and hand the ball to him when Millie brings it back. His fingers brush mine and the contact reminds me of how he held me while I drifted off to sleep last night. I freeze in place, but he doesn’t seem to notice. I hope he hasn’t noticed. Get it together, Syl.

“I should swing by my place.” I mutter to distract myself, “Pick up my things.”

“You moving?” Zane asks.

“I don’t like the place. Too confined. Need some new surroundings.” I reply.

“Where you going?”

“I don’t know. Can I stay here ‘till I figure it out?”

“My door’s always open to you, kitten. You know that. At least, until Zack drops by and makes us split up like he always does.” he says it with regret, but without any anger towards Zack. We all know that he only does what he does for our own safety. Still, he seems to have a knack for ticking each of us off.

“Thanks, Zane.”

We lapse into silence, but it’s good. I hop up on the banister and kick my legs back and forth as I watch him play with Millie. I laugh when Millie changes the game and takes off with the ball as Zane warned she did occasionally. Zane runs after her and tackles her to the ground, stealing the ball from her mouth and running away. He runs up the stairs onto the porch and hides behind me as Millie runs up. Millie jumps up, her paws on my legs as she tries to reach Zane.

“Oh, kitten. Protect me!” Zane jokes.

“Oh, no. I can fight just about anything for you, but not Millie. Especially when you took her ball.” I declare, jumping down out of the way and pointing the dog towards the stairs.

Millie barks and runs up the stairs to jump on Zane and steals her ball back. She wags her tail triumphantly and comes down to stand by my side. Zane smiles and crosses his arms.

“What are you smiling at?” I demand, patting Millie on the head.

“Millie likes you.” Zane states, gesturing at us.

“I guess she does.” I shrug.

“She’s a good judge of character.” Zane says, “She growled at Zack.”

I laugh and scratch the dogs ears.

“Zack probably growled back.” I muse, imagining the scene.

“I’d swear he did!” Zane agrees adamantly.

I laugh again and stamp down on the thought that Zane is terribly cute.

“I should go.” I say, sobering.

“Now?” Zane questions.

“Yeah. I’m gonna grab my stuff. Want me to pick up something for dinner?” I ask.

“Sure. Whatever you want is great.” Zane says.

“Cool.” I say, jumping in my car.

The distance between my place and Zane’s seems shorter than the last time I traversed it. I get home and quickly pack my things. I pause when I pick up something that actually means something to me. It’s a dog-tag. Not a real one, but one that you would put on a dog’s collar like Millie‘s. It was a joke between me and Krit. We each got one out of this old machine. It was like a diss to Manticore somehow that we would put our designations on fake dog-tags, as well as our names that they wouldn’t acknowledge. I loved mine dearly. I loved what it symbolized. I loved how it meant I wasn’t really a soldier, that I wasn’t what they had wanted me to be. But I also hated that it was something meant for an animal, what they had treated us like. The fake dog-tag means a lot to me, but because of that last, I don’t wear it much.

But now that I think about it, animals are better than people anyway. People created Manticore. People put weapons in the hands of children and taught them to kill. Millie is innocent. She gives love and companionship selflessly.

I put my dog-tag on and finish packing my things. I would have to share my revelation with Krit tomorrow.