The buildings didn’t match each other. Some were traditional and old, their gray stone carved with intricate designs that were most likely replicas of the original. Others were masterpieces of metal and glass spearing up into the sky, smooth curves and sharp edges. The one I was bound for was one of the latter, the black metal frame sleek and simple, dark windows reflective. I could almost see myself in it as clearly as a mirror, and I quickly checked my outfit for the fifth time. I’d decided on a thrifted mid-length skirt that brushed my knees and plain lavender shirt, a jacket draped over my arm. I thought it looked nice, not too casual or too fancy for this “date” with Alex.


    I spotted him a quarter of a block away at the doors to the building. Alex’s face lit up as he saw me, and he met me partway and wrapped me in a hug.


    “Hey, you,” he said against my hair.


    “Hi.” It came out muffled against his shoulder.


    “Ready?” He pulled back and quickly checked the time. “We only have a couple minutes to spare. It’s a bit of a trek.”


    “Ready.”


    He led the way and I let my eyes wander. It didn’t really look like a campus from here, but like the first time we met, he filled our walk with idle chatter.


    “This used to be a small college,” he began, gesturing to the building looming over us before opening the door for me. The air that blasted out was freezing cold, and I quickly pulled on my jacket I’d brought. There was a front desk made of what looked like black marble, with several stations that stood empty. A sign propped up next to the long desk welcomed us to the orientation and pointed the way towards the elevators.


    “There are five buildings here, six if you count the parking garage. In the middle of them, on the other side of this building, is a really nice green space in the early spring and autumn. Though in the summer the grass gets dry and rough, and everyone avoids is. It is pretty, at least. But it’s great to get some fresh air during lunch. I’ll show you if it’s not too late when the orientation is done.”


    Our shoes echoed off the white floors that glittered subtly, the sound reverberating against the stories-high ceiling. The windows behind us had a crystal clear view of the street outside, and I was glad this place was empty so no one had seem me check myself out again. We passed an empty security checkpoint, the gate wide open, though I could guarantee there was a security guard watching us right now.


    “This is the building I work in, though I’ll sometimes bounce over to others if they’re short-staffed that day. There’s a lot that this company works on, though obviously I picked the LaShoul’s department.”


    “How big is the department?”


    He shrugged. “We have our own department head; others have one head that covers multiple. So, bigger than some others?” he estimated. “We’re heading up to the higher floors.” We reached the elevators and he pressed the button. I remembered reading that the meeting was on the fifteenth one, and had seen it again on the welcome sign by the desk.


    “How many floors is for the department?”


    “I think it’s five, though some of the higher ups, the department heads and their assistants, might be on a higher floor closer to their bosses. I’ve never come across their offices, so I can’t say for sure, though that’s not where my job leads me anyways.”


    I nodded along as the elevator dinged in front of us, the doors sliding open soundlessly. I stepped inside and immediately crammed myself into a corner, holding onto the railing with both hands. The doors slid shut after Alex hit the button for floor fifteen, and we began ascending.


    Alex noticed. “You don’t like elevators?”


    “Heights,” I answered tersely.


    He stepped in front of me, blocking my view of the doors. He placed his hands on my biceps, rubbing tiny circles with his thumbs.


    “So, how do you plan to fly in a plane to travel the world if you don’t like heights?”


    “There’s boats,” I replied. “And drugs.”


    He tossed his head back and laughed. “Fair enough.”


    The elevator came to a stop, the doors opening once again. Right in front of the elevators was another welcome sign with directions to the room where the orientation will be held.


    “How many people do you think will be here tonight?”


    “We’ll find out.”


    We turned a corner in the hallway and spotted a young blond woman in a tailored sage green suit standing outside of a room with a clipboard.


    “Alex, cutting it a little close, are we?” I couldn’t tell if she was serious or not.


    “Aw, give me a break,” he answered easily. “I wanted to make sure Callie here didn’t get lost.”


    The woman stuck out her hand to me, catching me off guard. After a moment’s hesitation, I grabbed it. Her fingers were freezing.


    “Lola,” she introduced. “Nice to meet you, Callie.” She turned to Alex. “Well, go on. I got you both checked in. Find a seat. There’s folders at each table.”


    I followed Alex in, taking in the room and the fifty or so people already seated. Long tables of dark wood were arranged lecture-style, all facing the same direction, the chairs simple with their black sleekness. The wall of windows opposite of the door was covered in closed black blinds. I was grateful that I didn’t see how far up from the ground we were. The walls were a warm white color, leaning more towards yellow than blue.


    “There.” Alex pointed across the room, where a table was half-empty. “We can sit together over there.”


    He tugged on my hand and I had to hurry after him or risk being dragged. We sat down just as someone walked to the front of the room. He was older, probably mid-forties, with a receding hairline that he failed to hide with what hair he had left. He took off his navy suit jacket, draping it over the podium stationed at the front. I spotted Lola closing the door behind her as she entered, taking a seat off to the side and crossing one long leg over the other.


    “Good evening,” the man greeted from the front in a booming voice. “I’m Dr. Aaron Goodwin, and I’m the Principal Investigator, or PI, for this year’s study. You’ve all got your packets in front of you, and we’ll get to that in a bit, but there’s a few things I’d like to share with you all about the company.


    “First, this is the eighth study we’ve conducted in the past forty years. That averages out to one study every five years, though sometimes it fluctuates. My team has spent the last four years reviewing the last study we conducted, looking for trends, causes, any manner of information that we can use to help find a cure or figure out where this is coming from.”


    He paused, walking across the front of the room as he looked out at his audience. His gaze travelled to our table, and he seemed to give Alex a subtle nod before looking at me. I glanced down quickly at the packet in front of me, uncomfortable with the attention.


    Thankfully, he continued with his speech, “As most of you already know, the cause of LaShoul’s is unknown. We’ve looked at genotypes, blood types, environmental factors, you name it, we’ve looked at it. This year, however, we’re looking at some new variables that are dependent on the history of an individual. There will be a number of surveys that you will be filling out to help categorize how you have lived your lives. There is no right or wrong answers to these, but you’ll be sorted into different focus groups based on how you answer these questions. From there, you’ll be asked even more detailed questions.


    “At any point, you are welcome to leave the study. You are by no means legally obligated to finish; I want to make that clear. But if you do choose to bow out, you will forfeit the monetary compensation for your time. There is no sliding scale based on how far you make it. It’s all or nothing. Because if a person doesn’t finish, then we will select another candidate from the wait list and start over. This is information that we need to make progress towards our goal, and incomplete data will not help us.”


    Alex leaned in closer to me. “Most people have no problem finishing the studies,” he told me. It put me at ease a little bit, though I hadn’t really been worried about it to begin with. I was grateful, and lucky, that I could afford my bills. Though it was much easier living with someone who refused to let me pay rent.


    “This is the first year there will be a secondary study,” he continued. Alex straightened suddenly, apparently hearing this for the first time. “Some of you, based on participation, demographic, and other criteria, will be invited to that second stage. This focuses on expected lifespan, symptom management, that sort of thing. We think of this first study as the cause, and the second study as the effect. While we want to find out the cause so that we can work on a cure, we cannot ignore the fact that a cure is likely a long ways away still. Looking into how to reduce the flare-up frequency, length, and severity to improve the quality of life is also something we’d like to look into more deeply. We’re hopeful that we will be able to make progress more quickly to help people live a better, happier life until that cure is found.”


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    I took a moment to glance over at Alex. He was transfixed on Dr. Goodwin, seeming to hang onto his every word. It made sense; Alex wanted to make a difference, and maybe this would be how he did it. I couldn’t help my own rising excitement at the same idea; it’s why I had applied for the clinical trial of the bio-screen, after all.


    Dr. Goodwin continued on, discussing in detail the requirements; some surveys could be taken at home on any device, but some were more sensitive and to be sure information was kept private, would have to be completed on campus. We’d be divided into different groups based on our answers to the first survey, which we would all complete before leaving tonight. Dr. Goodwin didn’t tell us how we would be sorted, and a zing of uneasiness rushed through me. I didn’t want to be separated from Alex, I realized. I wanted the reassurance of his presence in this.


    But I could be a big girl, I reminded myself. I was twenty-four and fully capable of being an adult who did adult things. Taking a survey on my own would be absolutely fine.


    So why was I still nervous?


    Lola walked around then, a stack of papers in hand. She paused at each table, handing out a packet and small card to each person. When she got to Alex and I, she asked for my name again, and handed both Alex and I cards with our name and an identifying number that we were required to use on all surveys. It would ensure the efficacy of the study. The packet was the survey we would complete at the end of the orientation, which I hoped was soon. My stomach was beginning to rumble since I’d only had a quick, small dinner before coming here.


    The presentation continued for another thirteen minutes and by the end of it I had lost all concentration ability. My stomach was the new number one priority, and I hoped Alex was up for a bite to eat. Then I remembered that he wanted to show me around a bit. Crap.


    I stared down at the survey in front of me. There were pencils in front of each of us, and I grabbed mine and got to work. Most of them were pretty easy, and they were all multiple choice. My gender, current age, age of diagnosis, those types of questions were mindless. But the ones asking how I would rate a number of things in my life, like my ability to complete daily tasks the week immediately following an episode, were a little more difficult. It really depended on the severity of the attack, and it seemed like each one got worse and worse.


    Even with my struggles answering some questions, I still finished before Alex. Following the lead of others around me, I tucked my identifying card into the small bag I’d brought and took the survey back up to Lola. She gave me a nod, and I returned to my seat next to Alex just in time for my stomach to protest. Loudly.


    I sighed and crossed my arms. Maybe if I pressed down hard enough on my abdomen, it would shut it up. Alex’s slight smirk didn’t escape me. He finished his own survey in the next minute and then we were thankfully leaving.


    “That wasn’t so bad, huh?”


    “They could have offered us some snacks, at least,” I griped, half-serious. Alex tossed an arm across my shoulders.


    “Good thing we’re free to get some food.”


    “Alex!” Dr. Goodwin’s voice called after Alex, and we stopped.


    “Free, are we?” Alex dropped his arm from my shoulders and pinched my side in response to my complaining.


    “Hey, Doctor,” Alex greeted warmly after turning around and walking back towards him. I followed but hung back, unsure if my presence was okay or not.


    “Good to see you. I’m glad you’ve applied,” Dr. Goodwin said.


    “Of course I would. I’m happy to help,” Alex answered. “This is Callie. I convinced her to apply, too.”


    I stepped forward, now a part of the conversation.


    “Pleasure to meet you, Callie,” Dr. Goodwin said, extending his hand.


    “It’s nice to meet you, too, Dr. Goodwin,” I answered, taking his hand. It was a bit rough and dry, like he did a lot with his hands and washed them too much. I suppose that made sense, if he was conducting research and doing experiments. “I’m glad to be helping in any way I can.”


    “Very generous of you,” he answered. “I know your time is invaluable. Though I’m glad I caught you. Alex here came to me asking about a job for a new friend of his, should she be interested. And, well, we’re always looking for people with different talents. Alex says you work well with people?”


    I was caught off guard. Alex had talked to him about a job for me? My feelings were mixed. On the one hand, I was grateful that Alex was putting feelers out for me in an attempt to help. On the other, it seemed a bit odd that he’d do that without me giving him an answer about it.


    It took me a few seconds for my brain to fumble around before finding a response. “Y-yes, you could say that,” I managed. I cleared my throat to buy a moment of time, and it was enough to get my head on somewhat straight again. “While my job is just selling jewelry and accessories, being able to read a customer, and quickly, can make or break a sale. Noticing what draws their eye, any brands they gravitate to, it matters.”


    “Lovely,” the doctor answered with a loud clap of his hands. “Well, Callie, we have several different types of jobs available at the moment. As far as at-home one go, which tend to work best for others with LaShoul’s, there’s only one opening. When we conduct interviews, we record them and have AI put it to text. Under normal circumstances there’s never a problem with the AI’s translation, but since we interview many patients after an episode, especially ones participating in our studies, their words can be slightly unclear, mumbled, hoarse, that sort of thing. That’s where the team comes in, reviewing the recording and comparing it to the AI’s assessment.


    “But if you’re good working with people, we also have another team that conducts the interviews. It’s very straightforward since there’s a script we follow, though different answers will mean you’d ask slightly different questions. And, of course, there’s more than that. There is some required travel to other cities occasionally if we need to fill in or are looking at a different region, but all those expenses are covered. But you come across to me as the type of person people can easily talk to, which makes a big difference. You’re not intimidating, or condescending, at least from what I’ve seen.”


    “Thank you. That’s—I mean, I—”


    Dr. Goodwin chuckled. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be throwing so much information at you right after orientation. Here.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card from his wallet. “Call me tomorrow, and we’ll set up a meeting to talk about it more. I really think you’d be a perfect fit here.”


    “I—yes, thank you, I will,” I stuttered, taking the card from him. He flashed me and Alex a smile, and went back into the room.


    “Uh, Alex? What just happened?” I slowly turned my head to look at him, feeling befuddled.


    “You just got offered a job, basically. One you get to pick, no less.”


    “Why? That wasn’t even, like, a legit interview,” I pointed out.


    Alex shrugged one shoulder. “Dr. Goodwin has a way with people. Don’t ask me how, but he can pick out the good ones. You just have to trust him. You’re one of us.”


    “Us?”


    “One of the good ones. Almost everyone he’s singled out for a job here is still with the company.”


    “Huh.”


    “Now, I know I said I’d show you around, but I think your stomach has other plans.”


    Just alluding to food had my mouth watering. “Yes, it does.”


    “I’ll take you to my favorite taco truck. They’re usually open until nine.”


    Alex told me more about the buildings and company as we walked. Dr. Goodwin was very involved, doubling as the head of the department as well as being the PI. He also liked to be involved in everyone’s hiring process, whether that be on the interview team or actively recruiting people, like in my case.


    “He has to make people feel important,” I commented.


    Alex nodded in agreement. “It makes working for him, with him, so much easier. He knows everyone by name. I can promise you, Callie, he’ll remember your name the next time you see him. And I have to ask. What’re your thoughts about a job here?”


    “I would really love for it to be perfect for me,” I admitted. “But I have to say I’m a little scared, too.”


    “I get it. The devil you know, and all that.” We reached the taco truck and got in line. “It’s a lot to take in right now, too. But maybe talking to him tomorrow, getting some more details, will help you make your decision. Sleep on it.”


    I contemplated the wisdom of his words while also perusing the menu, deciding on one fish taco with a mango salsa and another beef taco that was dripping with cheese. After we ordered, paid, and stood off to the side to wait, I finally had a response.


    “That’s a good idea,” was all I had. “I can’t make a decision without knowing more.”


    Just then, my phone buzzed in my back pocket, and I fished it out. It was a message from Leo, and I opened it.


    Leo: Whenever you get back, I have something I want to show you.


    Me: Might be a while yet. But okay.


    Leo: Make sure he at least sees you on your train home!


    Me: How do you even know that’s who I’m with right now? Maybe I’m out clubbing with another stranger.


    Leo: Please. You’d never.


    Well, now I had to. Not right now, obviously. Some day. Maybe. Just to prove him wrong.


    I didn’t respond, and looked back up to see Alex looking at me.


    “Sorry,” I apologized. “Roommate.”


    “Ah.”


    “He can be a bit…much, sometimes. Like an overprotective brother,” I tried to explain. Alex didn’t look like he believed me, but nodded anyway. Our order was called out, and I rejoiced inwardly. Food. I took a bite and had to stop the moan that tried to work its way up my throat.


    “Holy shit,” I said around a mouthful.


    “Right?” Alex answered, his mouth also full of taco. “Told you.”


    We ate in silence after that, too engrossed in our tacos. Finishing two of these monstrosities was impossible, but I managed more than half of both. The rest would be coming home with me as tomorrow’s lunch.


    When we were both finished with our food, we began wandering the streets aimlessly, doing a little window-shopping at stores neither of us could ever afford. We discussed the books I’d told him he needed to read, a feeling of contentment slowly washing over me. And with that contentment, I became more sure of what I wanted to ask him.


    “Alex.” I stopped on the sidewalk and looked up at him. “What are we?”


    It was a very blunt question, sure, but I needed to know where this was going. If I needed to guard my heart, then I would. Even though he’d kissed me once before, that didn’t mean he wanted a relationship.


    He looked a bit nervous. “What do you want it to be?”


    I looked down the street as I contemplated how to answer. Did I have an answer? Yes. But I wasn’t sure how to say it. So, instead, I gave a little shrug and looked back at him.


    “We don’t have to be anything,” I said honestly. “But I’d like us to be on the same page about this.” I gestured between us.


    Alex nodded, taking in my words. It was a relief that he was contemplating and not immediately shooting me down. “I don’t want to rush into anything that you aren’t ready for.”


    I stepped closer to him. “What if I am ready for something?”


    He took a step closer. Our bodies were almost touching. “Are you?”


    Instead of continuing this back and forth dance, I decided to just go for it. “Yes. So tell me, Alex. Are we officially together, then?”


    Instead of answering with words, he reached up to hold the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair, and pressed his lips to mine. It started as a sweet, careful kiss. But when I rose up on my toes and grabbed the front of his shirt to pull him closer, things started getting heated.


    Reluctantly, I pulled back, watching his expression closely. His pupils were blown wide, his breathing heavier than it had been a minute ago. I grinned, triumphant.


    “I guess that answers my question.”


    “I’d hope so.” His voice was lower, a bit rougher. I liked it. And I liked knowing that I could affect him like he affected me.


    “It’s getting late.” The shadows were fading quickly, the dark of night hovering over us. “I need to find a subway and head home.”


    “I’ll walk you.” He reached out to grab my hand, and together found the nearest station. He waited with me for my train, giving me another kiss as it pulled up.


    “Call me tomorrow,” he requested, his arms still wrapped around me. “I want to hear about your conversation with Dr. Goodwin, too.”


    “I will. Goodnight, Alex.”


    “Goodnight, Callie.”


    I was so caught up in my own little world that by the time I got home and snuck into my room, I had completely forgotten that Leo wanted to show me something.