//How Long Until I'm Free?\\ [Jen]

With the professor gone to the Capitol on confidential business, these past few days have been quite boring. Without his presence and permission, I have no access to the equipment I need to finish our experiment. Besides, the prof said he felt he needed to be here if I wanted to work with the more dangerous extracts and chemicals.

I shoulder my backpack after school and head for the TC. On the way, I visit my parents' friend, an old man who keeps a bookshop. He's always generous enough to lend me a few of his favorite books. I enter, immediately overwhelmed by the comforting smell of dusty old books. The bell on the door jingles, announcing my presence. Jack, the man's apprentice, who's sitting at the counter, recognizes me and calls for Mr. Fleming, who hustles in.

"Hello there, Jonathan," he greets me warmly. "What can I do for you today? Or are you just coming for the books?"

"I'm here for the books, yes, but I also have a favor to ask of you. Which is your most recent volume on medicinal herbs? Amy would like one, but she doesn't know where to look. I told her your shop has everything, but she spends all her time training and does come by."

"Ah, yes. Your sister rarely visits me. She's not the type to read, but when she wins us a victory in the Games, we shall all be very grateful, no?" As he speaks, he walks over to a shelf by the door and picks out a thick tome. Here we are." He hands it to me. I flip through the encyclopedia of herbs and pay, even though Mr. Fleming offers to give it to me for free.

"Don't forget these, child. This one's really good," he says, handing me three novels and pointing to one of them.

"I can't believe I nearly forgot what I was coming for. Thank you, sir."

He grins. "No problem. You come in anytime you feel like it or have spare time on your hands. Tell your parents I said hello, and that I should invite all of you over for dinner sometime, okay?" With a nod, I put all the books into my backpack and leave the store. The bell chimes goodbye to me.

Now for the TC. My bag is now heavier, but it's a good and comforting weight, even with the sun shining so warmly down at my black head. I glance around at the side of my backpack to see if I remembered my water bottle this morning. Nope. The side compartment is empty.

Turned like that, I see someone in the corner of my eye. The streets are rather crowded, so I'm not that surprised that no one seems to notice. There's a girl sitting on the dusty floor, leaning against a store, bunched up hugging her knees. I'm pretty sure she's not one of the few homeless people in our District. No, her clothing gives her away. What's she doing? Doesn't she have anywhere to go, anything to do?

I turn to face her. I hope she doesn't think me weird. A random guy just talking to her. Generally, I don't get to interact with many people--that's Amy's job--because I'm stuck in the labs all day. I don't know how to start, but my curiosity is greater than my awkwardness. I think, how does Amy usually start a conversation? She always says, "Everyone's a human being. I don't care if we're all 'unique and special in our own way'. It's not true. Just talk, and others will understand."

"Hey there," I say hesitantly. I raise my voice above a whisper and ask gently, "Are you alright?"

She looks away at first and blushes. What now? My own cheeks are starting to get a little warm, too. All I'm wondering is if she's alright. People don't usually sit on the side of the street. People, as far as I know, train like crazy or go shopping or hang out with friends or talk about the Games or, if they're like me, stay in the labs all day with professors and work out new remedies for ancient illnesses.

Her blue eyes are glossy and so saddening in her pale, thin face. I hope I don't look startled. Do I know this girl? I might have seen her before--but I don't actually know that many people because I spend all my time in the labs or the woods, making concoctions.

"Umm... k-kind of..." She turns her gaze back to the ground. In this situation, I know exactly what Amy would do. Fine, be that way, don't talk to me, I was just trying to be nice, she'd say, and walk away. I'm not Amy. This girl isn't arrogant--she's far from it. Her eyes tell a sad story, and the fact that she chose to sit out here in the street instead of spend time with her friends says something about her.

I decide that she's just shy or wants to be alone. I don't want to leave, though, not yet. I'd have to go to the Training Center, and I really don't feel like it. I never really do. I set my bags down carefully on the sidewalk and, watching to make sure I don't startle her, settle beside her, leaving much room.

"Well, I'm glad of that, I suppose," I say, not certain how to continue. "If you don't mind, I'll just stay here for a while. Otherwise, my sister wants me to go to the Training Center with her, and that's the one place I dread going." Without waiting for her to wave me away, I stretch out my legs and say, "I'm Jonathan Meridian. Just call me Jon, I guess. It's what my sister calls me. Or if you're not as lazy as her, you could go for Jonathan. I answer to both. I also answer to the Med-Head, but that's only something silly my lab partner came up with because I spend so much time working with the profs on medical stuff all day."

I force myself to shut up. Why am I so talkative today? I need to get out more and seek more company, is what Amy says, but no, working with chemicals and plants is so much easier.

Before the silence gets too awkward, I say, "So, that's me. Jon the talkative silly lab kid. What's your name? Why are you out here alone on this wonderful day?"

It's wonderful enough, I suppose. There are a few clouds in the sky, and a few gentle breezes tease my hair this way and that until my hair gets so confused each strand decides to tangle with the others and mess everything up. The sun's not as harsh as it can be on some days. There seems to be a storm cloud coming on the horizon, though. I wonder how Prof is doing and whether the Capitol is experiencing similar weather. Even though there's only one district between us, we live so differently from those in the Capitol. When Amy came back from the Capitol Gala, she had so many stories to tell about the absurdities of the Capitol. Mayhaps she elaborated and added a little of her bias into her stories, but since I haven't been and I doubt I'll get the chance to go, I guess I'll just have to take her word for it. It's hard to imagine that Grandma lives like that. She's a really nice person, though, and not at all as extravagant as others Amy mentioned.

My thoughts wander, and I don't know if I've missed what the girl says. I hold my peace, though, and just sit back and try to enjoy the brilliant spring afternoon as best as I can, sitting on the curb next to a girl I don't know, and breathing in the perfume of street gunk.

The girl actually keeps her glassy faded blue eyes on me as I ramble, though she looks like it's the last thing she wants to do. I understand, to some extent, but I learned a long while ago that if one doesn't talk to others, the only people to keep one who spends all day in the labs company would be the rats. Based on my evaluation of the human brain, it's unhealthy to live one's life alone. I recall that day when my professor first showed me the parts of the brain and explained that to me.

She introduces herself and pauses a slight bit before saying, "And, well, why would I not be sitting out here alone? I'm always alone."

Her tone is so sad, so despairing, a little desperate for company, but I don't know if she'd approve of my pitying her. She pretty much radiates loneliness. I start to find myself more interested in her, rather than speaking to her with the greater purpose to avoid training. Ooh, Amy might get angry. Shall I let her know now, or later? Now, I decide.

Now, what? I had let my barriers go free for a while. I'm still not very good at controlling that yet when I'm out of the labs and about.

Nothing, nothing. I probably won't be able to make training today--

What, Jon, again? What's your excuse this time?

Hey, hey. I'm just letting you know. Tell you later. I shut her out of my head consciously and think back to the kind old man who taught us that. It can get quite noisy sometimes in my head--I can feel her and hear her thoughts sometimes.

I glance at the girl sitting beside me--she doesn't look like she can be older than me, now that she's actually facing me as I speak. It may be my imagination, but I think she's trembling, just a little. Maybe I just sense her trembling.

She doesn't say anything more. She just looks away again now. It's just the tad bit awkward, but I don't show it as I say, "Eve Renner. Nice name. It's the same forward and backward. What was that called again? Same thing as the whole "Mr. Owl ate a metal worm" bit? Ah, well.

"And, you're always alone? Because you choose to be, or just because? I'm alone a lot, too--actually, no, I have lab rats and bacteria samples to keep me company--but it's my own choice. Sometimes, I get really lonely, though. That's why I just randomly talk to people like how I am to you--please don't be offended or think I'm strange or anything, I'm really not. I just get a buildup of thoughts to share and need for company after too long in the labs. I love my work, but still..." Part of the reason I like my internship so much is because of the peace and quiet it provides. I need time to think and to process everything that's going on in my life. In the labs, I shut out Amy best. In the labs, I can just enter smaller worlds or pour chemicals into little vials, creating new things and helping people.

"I think that personally, I choose to be alone much of the time because people are so complicated. A microscope is so simple in comparison; chemical equations are so routine. It's soothing. People, though--well, they're just too complicated. They say one thing and mean another, they can never decide whether they want to be your friend or your enemy, there are just too many layers." I haven't talked this much in a long time. This girl, though her sad eyes are a little unsettling, actually cares to listen to me ramble meaninglessly. She has the patience to hear me out. For that, I suppose I'm grateful.

At first, I'm a little worried because her down-hearted face seems to have more passion, almost anger. Am I bothering her? I don't shrink back, though. It seems Amy's advice isn't working as well here. "Everyone's a human being. I don't care if we're all 'unique and special in our own way'. It's not true. Just talk, and others will understand," she says. This girl is obviously herself--she's more herself than we are all ourselves. She probably does mind what people say and think about her, but at least she's not wearing a mask to try and please them. If Amy were here--maybe Amy, who's queen of being herself and letting others think whatever, maybe Amy could arouse the girl in this forlorn looking figure. But Amy's not here. I decided to speak to her, and I'll just have to keep talking until she feels somewhat comfortable around me. Maybe Amy couldn't have possibly known what to do, anyway. She's used to just being herself and have others adjust abruptly.

I feel sorry for this girl--she doesn't even have a few lab rats to keep her company. Then, from the irritation clear in her expression, I realize that pity is the last thing she wants. A little taken aback, I take a deep breath.

I decide to take this time to just show compassion and take more out of our conversation for me than anything else. It seems a little selfish.

When she speaks, though, Eve smiles! I grin, almost in surprise, because the smile transforms her face. Her eyes are still sad, but not as much anymore. Her face lights up. Her smile is so pretty. Should I tell her that? I'm afraid it'll make her shrink back into her shell again. Yes, she said so herself--she's just shy.

"I suppose I'm the odd one out. I'm always the one that people make fun of; I'm left out of everything...not that I really care. After I hear what people say about me, what's the point in looking for friends? I'm perfectly fine by myself." Her tone is not convincing, but i don't say anything. I wonder why I've never noticed--surely, if there was a girl so tortured in school and around the District, I'd know, right? Perhaps Amy is right--I spend way too much time with my rats and microscopes. Simple as they are, I cannot let them ingest my life.

"I mean, I'd rather not have anyone to rely on rather than relying on people who aren't actually there for me." That would be the reason Amy relies on her training and people like Coryn and Belameane and me on my lab partners and professor instead of Mom and Dad. They're wonderful people, but most of our lives, ever since we were old enough to survive on our own, they've been at work. Sometimes, they seem more like distant aunts and uncles that are really nice and buy gifts for us on our birthdays instead of actual parents. Parents are supposed to cook and clean and ask us how our day went and tuck us in bed and embarrass us when we're with friends or that cute girl that lives down the street--I digress. I find my mental response to what Eve says slightly overwhelming. It's not like there's a void in my life because Mom and Dad aren't there most of the time or anything; I'm not lacking in anything.

Eve pauses, a little hesitant, I suppose. She probably has not spoken so much in one conversation in a long time. "Does that make any sense?"

I nod. "Yeah, it does--but you know, if you pushed yourself out of your comfort zone once in a while and forced yourself to smile and speak, maybe people would realize you're not so 'odd'. Do you ever tell anyone how you feel about society? What about parents? I think people usually have parents that are there for them, but I wouldn't know." I'm surprised at the hint of bitterness that creeps into my voice at the end.

"Hey--by the way, do you have an older brother? I thought I knew another Renner... but I don't remember." Was it something Amy said the other day about a trip with the orphans, or was it school...?

I stand and stretch. The afternoon sun is non-relenting. It's almost too bright for my eyes--eyes that are used to the constant light of the classrooms. "Let's go someplace cooler," I suggest. "How about some ice cream? I know a really good place just a block over. Come on. We'll talk there. My treat." I add, "There usually aren't many people there, so don't busy yourself with being shy."

I glance around the square. Is the stink of the alley getting into my head? The sun waves make things look like they're spinning. I really need to get out more.