MATCH CITY

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MATCH CITY Page 5

by Megan Kreuger


  “You’ll understand everything after your brief. Do you take anything? Like medication?” I finish my squat and bring the weight back to the stand. “Yeah, I do—do you?” I ask, breathing hard. I step back to study his face. He lifts his chin, his blue eyes gaze into mine. “Yeah, most of the higher Ursa members do. They help with advancement,” he answers with a smirk.

  “What do you take it for?” I question further, probably over-stepping my bounds. I don’t care. His expression falls serious—but then—there’s that smile again. “What do you take it for?” he impishly demands without answering my question, his eyes observing my body like he’s trying to guess.

  We stare at each other with inquisition before I finally smile— he smiles bigger. It occurs to me that I might faint, the chemistry is undeniable. I think about what Phoenix said to me. Avoid Apollo. I break eye contact and go for another set.

  I place the weight just behind the top of my shoulders and begin, finishing quickly before taking a break. I stare straight ahead at the full length, wall-to-wall mirror and take in the sight of us. The muscle definition in my arms and legs seems meager with Apollo standing beside me.

  But I think about my gift, my genetics, and how I was created. The match scanner torments me with thoughts of possible future scenarios, but it also created me. It enabled me for this job, these opportunities. Was it such a bad thing to trust? My children would be genetically perfected, with deeper skill and temporal perfection than I have, but only if we completely adhere to the scanner and the methods set in place by the creators.

  I finish my last set, boost my foot up the back of my thigh and reach back, grabbing my toe to stretch. I notice Castor and Roman Quinn walk in. My eyes scan the room and I realize I’m one of only three women in the training gym. I wonder how many are in the building.

  Apollo hands me my water and Castor notices immediately. His eyes reveal excitement before darting to Apollo and the electricity fades, replaced with a threatening grimace. Thrusting his chest out, he nudges Roman and leans in quickly to say something, soon they both gape in our direction.

  Apollo nods “hello” to Roman, as the well-built Quinn brother sets a gym bag down before swaggering over. “Apollo, my man…what’s goin’ on?”

  Apollo returns the enthusiasm. “What’s up buddy? That’s a nasty bruise, man,” he says, and laughs softly. Roman’s face floods with humor. “Oh, you have jokes and you’re training Freya. Lucky man, today,” Roman replies as though I’m not here to witness the exchange. He gazes at me through the mirror.

  An uncomfortable expression suddenly washes over Apollo. “Yeah, Ursa,” he mentions softly, sounding stern. Roman looks surprised. “I heard, I heard. Impressive—well I get to train Joe nobody over there, and I think I’ll get on it.” Roman smiles at me again before turning to leave, but not before Castor saunters up from behind him.

  “Freya—I scheduled for us to go to Rome together this weekend. I don’t know if you saw it on the Calendar,” he says. Castor, always sure of himself, but his voice reveals he’s intimidated, nervous even. “Yeah, I saw, but I might have watch this weekend,” I utter, skeptical of the outcome. “Watch…” he repeats slowly.

  Castor peers sideways at Apollo before turning to face him completely. “Is that your call?” Castor asks, his face flushing slightly. “I could make that call—but not this time,” Apollo responds, his voice resonant and rich, almost amused at Castor’s audacity.

  They stare blankly at each other for a moment before Apollo smiles with an expression that says, “Why are you still standing here?”

  Castor turns his attention back on me. “Next week then,” he says before attempting a look of seduction. He walks away.

  Castor is very attractive, but I can’t help but think how insubstantial that is to me. His mannerisms are so domineering, but he needs constant reassurance of his worth. That would get exhausting. The way Apollo carries himself is so masculine and secure, aware of his capabilities and what he has to offer, but he doesn’t overwhelm me with it.

  Castor seems manipulative, his eyes invasive, when he speaks to me I want nothing more than to flee from the conversation. I’m comparing him to Apollo. What about Phoenix. What do I like about Phoenix?

  “To the box next,” Apollo’s surly voice tatters my thoughts.

  “That’s what you’re into?” Apollo laughs as we finally get over to the box and I begin. “Caster Quinn—Mel Quinn’s favorite son. Have you met Mel yet?”

  Starting to feel comfortable I say, “No, but I thought you and Castor got together to see who could pick out the tightest shirt.” Apollo laughs loud, lifting his brow with magnetism. He’s so attractive when he smiles, I almost fall off the box.

  I’m breathing awkwardly loud. “Well, you will meet Mel. We report to him regularly. He’ll be giving you your brief tomorrow,” his composure turns dignified. That’s what I’ve noticed about him, always trying to be tough, to appear unapproachable. I’m learning quickly, Apollo doesn’t like to be read.

  I remain silent, my breathing too heavy to speak anyway. After an hour or so and a multitude of exercises for the glutes, calves, and hamstrings we take a break.

  “So where do you go after this?” Apollo asks, grabbing me a towel. “Nowhere—I mean other than the range. Today they sent me the information about you, and told me I had field F at the range until three,” I’m quiet for a second.

  “I’m supposed to be going with Phoenix to the scanner tonight. You know—just to see if we are compatible,” I say bravely.

  Apollo’s jaw clenches, but his eyes are hidden from emotion. I feel drawn to him. I want to grip his face and stare into his eyes and determine what he’s thinking.

  “It was nice to meet you today,” I say. With this he finally looks at me. He smiles and I feel the palpable charm between us again. “You’re nothing like I thought you would be,” I say keenly. “Oh, yeah?” his stoic face cracks a smile again. “Yeah, you’re not intimidating at all in person,” I lie. He knows I’m lying and laughs. “Well you’re not what I expected, either,” he says.

  “Is that good?” I say cringing, remembering what he said at the gathering. “I mean, I’m really good friends with Maryn, and I’ve met your Father. Your Father is scary and uptight, but Maryn is one of my best friends. He has the most integrity out of anyone I’ve ever met. It’s rare,” he confesses.

  “But I may have had some preconceived notions about you, too,” he says, shrugging slightly. At least his honesty is refreshing, and the previous anger I felt toward his conversation with Phoenix fades. “I understand. And you’re right. Good people are rare—” Studying me again, Apollo remains silent.

  “What about you? I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything about your family.” He looks hesitant, and I regret asking. “My mother passed away after giving birth to my sister. My father was an amazing man, a Pax Officer, but he passed away last year,” he says, softly. “I’m so sorry.” Without anything more to say, I fiddle with the water bottle between my fingertips. “Oh, don’t apologize.”

  We’re quiet, but keep smiling at each other every time we catch the other staring. “You make me feel like I’m twelve,” he says. “You’re always smiling.” “Sorry, I can’t help it, but you smile every time I smile,” I say, laughing.

  “Maybe you just hang around depressing people,” I smile, again. “Maybe,” he agrees softly and smirks. He lifts his chin like only he does and gazes at me, looking at me in the same way Phoenix did before he tried to kiss me. The thought stings my heart as my mind pulls Phoenix out from memory. “So Phoenix said you were like brothers…” I begin, cautiously.

  His face appears as if he’s just been jolted from a stupor and I immediately regret bringing Phoenix up. I had to test the waters, but I feel like I destroyed all possibility for Apollo before I’ve ever had a chance to think through my feelings.

  Apollo grips the back of his neck and looks toward the ceiling. He makes an audible sound of frustration, mos
t likely because of the colossal amount of meaning hidden behind my comment. “Yeah, he is,” he sighs. I’m not sure of the response I was looking for.

  “That’s what he said,” I say casually. “I think things will work out the way they are meant for you. This City was built on science, and I think you’d be really lucky to end up with Phoenix— and vice versa,” he says, staring vacantly at me for a minute, averting his attention whenever our eyes connect longer than a few seconds.

  I mildly feel like crying, but remain quiet and sip water from my issued florescent yellow bottle. Suddenly our bracelets buzz in unity. Glancing around I notice everyone is checking their wrists, must be a weather advisory. I guess it’s staying cold.

  “Temperatures are going to be in the negatives, looks like the range will be closed. They won’t keep it heated,” Apollo informs me. “And curfew was moved to seven.” “Honestly, I just feel like going home today anyway,” I say.

  Apollo stares suspiciously, and my wrist buzzes again. It’s a message from Phoenix: Running Late. I’ll meet you at building 151 at 5, before the temperature drops. I’m excited to see you.

  I slowly brush the hologram away and glance up to see Apollo studying me. His beautiful cerulean eyes appear grave, the intensity we both felt earlier still escaping, and he avoids eye contact again. Apollo knows exactly who messaged me.

  “Well, we’ll do the range tomorrow before your brief. Take a shower and I’ll ride over on the Sky with you. I’m going to 151 to pick up some things,” he states before turning and heading for the men’s locker room.

  I stand in the shower thinking, I knew it. I always knew this would happen. I’ve never been eager to match or go to the gathering, and the one person I’ve always wanted to meet was Apollo. But I do like Phoenix; he’s strong, handsome, smart, and so open. He doesn’t hide what he wants behind his kind eyes. Phoenix genuinely cares for me and even defended me against Apollo.

  I’ve always been interested in Apollo but he also cares about Phoenix; I care about Phoenix! What would it be like if we pass and pair? Would we see Apollo often? My skin is crawling with agitation, and I decide to push Apollo from my mind. Just look at him like a brother, I tell myself. He’d be like a brother-in-law if I pair with Phoenix. But the chemistry between Apollo and me is undeniably real, and it’s nerve-wracking because it’s what I’ve always wanted.

  After a shower, I wriggle some warmer clothes from a navy blue garment bag: a long-sleeve black V-neck, black pants and boots. I hold my head under a motion-censored dryer until my hair hangs torrid and mostly dry. I fasten my prismatic, blond-to-bleached locks in a high ponytail that falls to my hips. After examining myself in a mirror, I fling a large speckled, fur coat over my arm, grab my bag and step into the lobby.

  Apollo emerges from the hallway of the male dressing room, his hand rubbing his semi-wet, wavy hair. He stops walking when he sees me, an expression of allure and fascination replaces his previous mellow countenance.

  “You look—,” he mumbles then coughs. “What?” I inquire. He puckers his lips slightly like I caught him doing something bad, grimaces then slowly smirks. “Let’s go. We have six minutes.” He allows his hand to lightly touch my back before abruptly dropping it.

  He climbs into the Sky train behind me. His hand lands on mine when gripping the railing, and this time he doesn’t jolt away. Apollo motions for us to go to the back of the bus, reserved for celebrities and Creators. The seats are white leather, clean and much nicer than the bland, worn, grey seats farther forward. “I feel weird sitting back here,” I mutter.

  “You’re gonna be back here anyway,” he says. “What does that even mean?” “Nothing,” he says, obviously disgruntled it slipped out. “No, I want to know,” I insist, trying to pretend I didn’t overhear his conversation at the gathering.

  He sighs. Pulling me into a seat with him, we finally make undeterred eye contact. “I think they are really going to push for you to pair with a future Council member. That’s just my opinion. As your trainer I’ve seen your file; you are highlighted in all areas, set up for high class pairing.”

  “But we get to choose,” I state. “Do we?” he responds softly, his brows lower and a frown grasps at his lips. “There are multiple matches within our age groups. I will choose who I pair with,” I say again.

  Andromeda Perkins, who goes by Andi, strides passed us, heading to the back of the Sky, picked up from the last stop. She’s Astrid and Archer Perkins’ only daughter and is eyeballing both of us. “Ugh,” Apollo grunts almost noiselessly. I feel her glare searing into me and submissively inch further away from Apollo.

  “Hi Apollo,” she says sensually, behind her trail some other women I recognize from broadcasting, Paris Styles one of them. I realize Andi was the slinky girl in the black dress dancing with Apollo in the tower, unintentional jealousy burns my chest.

  “Hey,” he nods and turns his attention back to me. Looking infuriated, she continues past us and takes a seat near the very back. “What was that?” I mutter quietly, but accidently laugh. Apollo looks unamused, and shrugs one shoulder. “Nothing,” he scoffs, his scar adding harshness to his expressions every time he lifts it.

  After a moment has passed, I ask “Have you gone to the scanner yet?” “No,” he appears uncomfortable. “Why?” Suddenly he becomes very serious again and leans in to me. “After your class and brief tomorrow, you will learn so much about this City. There are things Ursa deal with, and all of this—this nonsense will seem absolutely inconsequential.”

  “How is it inconsequential?” I respond cautiously. “Freya”— he looks at me somberly, his blue eyes tormented. “This City”—he hesitates. He leans back in his seat, the orbs hanging throughout the Sky train catch his attention, and a glower of paranoia envelopes his countenance. I feel confused again…and almost paranoid myself, but I don’t understand why.

  The skytrain reaches building 151. He grabs my fur coat and thrusts it over my shoulders after we stand. I turn around, “What were you going to say?” I implore again. “We should go,” he says.

  “We can ride the Sky around the City again. It’s not five o’clock, yet,” I say. “We only have five minutes,” he says, grinning. “Phoenix is probably already outside. I’ll meet you in the hall after your brief. Range first, brief after. Tomorrow is a big day.”

  “I wish you would just talk to me now” I mutter, feeling overwhelmed. “I know. Just trust me.” Trust him?—I do trust him. I barely know him and I trust him. I feel like we’ve always known each other, maybe because he knew Maryn. Or maybe because I’ve always known I would really know Apollo.

  “Okay,” I say. His intense expression disappears with a wink. He leads me to the front of the Sky. A herd of people swarm us, everyone making a break for the exit, carefully trying not to bump into one another.

  Apollo reaches through the mob and grabs my hand, leaving me stunned. He pulls me to him and guides me to the exit steadily. I don’t pull away. It’s illegal—only engaged or married pairs can touch—yet, it doesn’t frighten me and no one seems to notice.

  With his hand clasped tightly around mine, the gesture of protectiveness feels so natural. Strangely, I don’t question any part of this bizarre day with this intoxicatingly powerful man.

  He doesn’t let go. Outside, there is a large crowd of people waiting to take their chances in the Match Compatibility Scanner. The disordered mob is mostly made up of couples, aside from the few officials and workers with other business, scattered along the concrete. We finally break free from the crowd and Phoenix is already waiting outside, instantly his eyes race from Apollo to me and his gaze drops to our interlocking hands before we realize we’re still touching.

  Apollo lets go slowly, which is comforting. He’s not intimidated in the least by Phoenix, who clenches his cheeks and drops his chest; the disappointment and jealousy is radiating from his face, overpowering him. And I feel sorry for him.

  7

  Phoenix stands looking heartbrok
en, obvious resentment and anger across his face, seething for an answer. Ignoring his understandable resentment, Apollo says, “Hey man, I have a meeting so I figured I’d ride over here with her. How you doin’? You should stop by the Tower tonight and unwind.”

  He stares patiently at Phoenix until he gathers his composure. “Yeah, I was planning on it. You get my message?” he finally responds, collecting his dignity. “Yeah, but I haven’t had a chance to stop anywhere else.”

  “You’re lucky there aren’t Pax officers around. You can’t touch her unless engaged,” Phoenix says coolly, finally getting his jealousy out in words. “Yeah, we were just getting through the crowd together.” I can tell by Phoenix’s exasperated expression that he isn’t satisfied. “Look I have to help her in so many ways during training. They’re a little more lenient for Ursa with regards to physical contact.”

  Phoenix’s expression doesn’t budge, but he changes the subject. “My sister really wants to go coupling,” he says, anger still in his tone, “And you know she wants it to be with you.”

  “I’ve already talked to you about this. No, man,” Apollo says warily. “Well if Freya and I pass this tonight, maybe we will stop by to celebrate. And you should give my sister a chance. You never know…if it works out, you could really be my brother,” Phoenix chuckles light-heartedly, and smiles. I look away trying to hide the jealousy stinging my chest.

  “I’ll see you later but definitely stop by,” Apollo says, lifting his chin. He looks at me and nods to say goodbye before disappearing inside the multistory building. I don’t want him to go.

  “How was your day?” Phoenix says, turning to me. I’m irritated that he’s so sure about my feelings for him. I do like him, or I did, but his behavior is immature, especially since we’ve only been coupling once.

  “Really good, but I’m sore. Apollo’s workout was intense.” Phoenix recoils with uneasiness at my comment, but I’m being honest.

 

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