Free Anomaly by Krista McGee Page B

know he is not thinking like a Scientist. He isn’t just looking at me, he is looking into me. Into my mind and my heart, into the secret places where I dream and question and hope. We are more alike than I ever imagined. I tear my eyes from his. I cannot look at him and play, so I close my eyes, position my bow, and begin.
    I forget about the testing, I forget my fears. I forget that my life could soon be over. I forget everything but this moment. And I play. I play everything I feel, everything I hope. I play love and a wedding and a world where those things aren’t primitive. A place where a Scientist and a Musician can be together, forever, the way John described. My bow glides over the strings of my violin, bringing to the surface everything I have hidden.
    When I am finished, I am gulping air. Frightened, excited, completely transparent. I have laid bare everything that is in my heart.
    Berk stands. He takes the violin from my hands and places it carefully back in the case. He faces me, his green eyes just inches from mine. He touches my face, tracing my jaw with his finger. Then he pulls me closer and wraps his strong arms around me. His face is buried in my hair, his breath is a whisper in my ear. I fall into him, my head on his chest, my ear listening to his heartbeat. We don’t move, we don’t speak. But I know what he is saying. And I say it back.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
    Y our dinner.” An Assistant comes in with a tray and sets it on my dresser. She leaves just as she came—silently, methodically.
    She doesn’t see that I am not the same person I was yesterday. I am sure my skin has changed hues. I feel every nerve tingle. I just think of Berk and my heart rate increases, my stomach feels as if it were floating inside me.
    I don’t need food. I don’t want food. I want to go back to the sleeping platform and close my eyes and think of Berk. I want to remember every moment of our picnic, every word that he said. I want to recall the feel of his arms around me, his warmbreath in my ear. I think if I tried, I could fly around the room. I want to shout. I want to play. A violin is too soft for how I feel. I need a trumpet to declare these feelings, to fully express what is in my heart.
    I do not want food, but the Scientists will be suspicious if I don’t eat. I am sure the Assistant records how much I eat and drink and reports that information back to her superiors. I am, after all, simply an experiment.
    I walk to the dresser and take a sip of the orange juice. It tastes different from my usual orange juice. Or perhaps my nerves aren’t the only things affected by these feelings I have for Berk. Perhaps even my taste buds are altered. Everything in me is different, more alert.
    Why would the Scientists want to keep feelings like this from us? This is wonderful.
    I am hungrier than I thought. The fruit is not enough. I eat a second slice of the toast. I think of last night. Again. Will I ever stop thinking of it? I hope not.
    I get dressed, still thinking of Berk. I wish we could run away—to that patch of concrete and grass—and be there together. Forever. No Scientists, no tests, no annihilation chamber. Just Berk and me.
    But, of course, that cannot happen.
    The door opens and Berk walks in. I want to rush to him, but I remain where I am. I greet him like a patient would greet her doctor. At least, I hope that is what it sounds like.
    Berk nods and holds the door open as I walk out. He is alone. No Assistants with him. Instead of turning toward the laboratory, he turns right. Toward our stairwell. He doesn’t speak, but he does walk faster. I have to jog to keep up with his long legs.
    When we finally reach the stairwell and the door closes, Berk turns to me. His eyes are different. Serious. He grabs my shoulders and looks at me with such intensity that, for a moment, I am scared.
    “I have only been given one more day to test on you.” Berk’s voice is quiet, but the emotion behind it is not.
    I nod,