UPRISE

002

When Edison opens the door, his face contorts and his nose scrunches. It's half an hour until red curfew, his clothes are still soaked through, and the line up to the shops is nearly out of the door.

He doesn't often go into stores, but they are all laid out the same. The rooms are squares, with roped sections to help concentrate the lines inside the building. Effectively, the metal chains build a sort of maze, where everyone is too close together. Edison has never liked physical contact, so this is his nightmare.

At the front of the line, Wren waits nervously. He watches a girl with a blue wristband walk up to the counter. She taps the screen on the wall, which ignites in a white flash. Wren watches her carefully select an item, bringing his thumb to his lip. He gnaws on his hangnail, trying to keep the frustration bursting inside him.

Eventually, she selects a pair of pants. She presses the button and taps her wrist against the black sensor bar. It beeps. Above them, Wren hears the clang of the metal robotic arms, selecting the item. The girl steps over to the shoot, waiting.

Behind him, Reagan tries his best to keep his mouth shut. Nobody, especially not a red, wants to make small talk in a shop. However, the loneliness is creeping in. Reagan tries his best to concentrate on the people around him. He stares at the boy's shoulders in front of him, trying to match his breathing. No matter how hard he tries, Reagan can't seem to manage. In the crowd, he feels alone.

Pluto, however, knows nothing of red etiquette. She leans forward into the girl in front of her, her voice a soft whisper. "What do you think he's getting?"

Aeryn spins around, her lips curved into a soft circle. "Who?"

The older of the two girls takes a minute to study the blonde's face. She watches, waits, and then shakes her head back and forth. Obviously, people-watching is not the game to play with this tiny blonde.

Though they aren't aware of it, Harper listens in to their conversation. Both of them seem so childish. It hadn't occurred to him that all of his peers here would be so young, and, unfortunately, he is disappointed.

"God, this is taking forever," Jasmine mutters under her breath. She moves to fiddle with the necklace that isn't there. After grabbing the sweater, she was hoping to make one last tap-attempt at the liquor store. At this rate, she'll barely be able to make it home before blue curfew.

Behind her, she hears a guy exhale. She turns around to look at him, and he stares back at her. Everything about him is sharp, from his gaze to his nose to his jawline. Maybe even his teeth; Jasmine can't tell because he scowls. He looks like everything her parents ever told her to avoid, so she can't help but linger.

Corbin looks back at her. She's pretty, in a totally-unattainable-prissy-girl way. However, he is never one to look away first.

Behind them, Edison is distracted by the girl in front of him. She is standing in the line horizontally, leaning against the chain. The girl's wide eyes blink and blink again.

Noah turns around. He taps the girl on the shoulder, trying to keep his knee from jolting up and down. He doesn't want to bring any more attention to his shoeless feet than necessary. "Do you know what time it is?"

"No," Viola answers. Out of habit, she glances at his wrist. Red.

Finally, the girl at the front of the line leaves. Wren steps up to the panel. He ignites the screen and scrolls until he finds the coats. The lights in the room feel brighter, and his head is pounding. God, being sober is difficult. It feels like every day he is carrying bricks on his back, and the only thing that will cushion him is a thick coat.