ROGER (Read Until 7/31)

O N E

The tiny, red light from my laptop flashed as my face appeared on its screen. I chewed on my lip, ready to record—well, almost ready.

First, I fixed my hair. I slid my fingers through the brown waves that framed my face and wiped at the lipstick on the corners of my mouth. Who was I looking pretty for, anyway?

It was a video blog, for Province's sake. And no one video-blogged anymore. I did, but I was an old soul. Or at least, that's what Xerses said.

Steadying my breath with a large smile on my face, I watched the faint, white light come on around the glass edge. When I knew it was ready, I let my pinky tap down on the enter key.

"Hello, myself." I patted my lips, making four pop noises. "It is 11:57 P.M. November 30th, 2102, and I'm partying alone. It's cool, I'm not mad about it. I'm pretty damn excited! I mean, we're all getting Assistants! Like, programming the devices in my apartment was hard enough to do on my own! Ha!"

I laughed at my joke. I always did, even if this one wasn't a joke. It was more of an attempt to hide how nervous I was.

I was afraid my mom's old receptor wouldn't work. Everyone in the city was readying their implants, ensuring they were connected to the Province mainframe with no hiccups or blockages, as required by law. I, on the other hand, tapped the old metal piece that covered the scar of my actual receptor. It chirped quietly in my ear, awaiting the data file.

Or that's what I'd hoped the noise was.

I'd never used it before today. Ever since I was ten, I only used my implant. Emails were letters over my vision. I'd scroll through them with just my fingers. My receptor's automatic voice was that of a man, and after two years of constant use, he knew me better than my mother did. I could still hear her voice in my head, "Things like that will poison your head, ya hear! Nothing wrong with being simple."

Hm. Simple.

I didn't want to be simple, but I didn't want something so virtual in my head, either. Funny, considering everything in my head was just that.

Virtual.

With a hum and a sigh, I thought of what else to say to the camera. There was my usual Mom shout-out, something I'd done since I was a teen. She'd come into my room during a video blog and grumble about technology. Before she'd leave, I'd throw up a peace sign with my fingers and shout at my camera, "This one's for you, Mama Bear!"

Yeah, for old times' sake, I'd do that.

I leaned closer to the camera, smiling bigger than before, but stopped as a small bubble appeared on the corner of my laptop. It pinged quietly—an incoming video call. Squinting, I looked at the letter X within the bubble's circle. Seriously, I thought as I sighed, rolled my eyes, and flicked my fingers over the computer sensor to accept it. "You're interrupting my diary," I said with pouted lips, "and I've got two more minutes."

X, or Xerxes to everyone else in the world, grinned at me with large eyes. His hands rubbed the sides of his dark cheeks as he shook his head. For a second, he looked as though he admired himself on his own screen. "Nobody video blogs anymore. Just you. What are you? Eighty?"

"Kiss. My. Ass," I said as I looked up at the digital numbers on my wall. Its translucent image flipped a digit: 11:59 P.M. My gaze fell back onto Xerses' dark eyes and cheesy smile. "Drinking alone?"

"I'm not hanging with lames tonight, hear me? I've got an assistant to personalize before the morning," he said with a nod.

I giggled, covering my lips. Even in the dim light of his apartment, he was handsome. He was dark as night and had a smile that brightened every room. On top of that, he was funny and overly intelligent, too much for his own good. Sometimes I thought it was a bit of a shame that we acted more like siblings than anything else. "Lames, huh? That's why you wouldn't come over?"