Three weeks passed in the beach house in the Human Rescue Center. Each night I would sleep on the left bed, alone, and Crystal would sleep on her bed. The bedroom was bare, with only a dresser on each side of the room and doors next to the beds that led to walk-in closets. The closets already had clothes in them, surprisingly to my exact fit.

Crystal didn’t talk much, she preferred to sit in the library alone, or to sun tan on the beach outside. The turquoise blue water stretched out nearly 100 meters before a tall, see-thru chainlink fence barred them off from the outside world. But I was content. To eat, I’d merely go to the Creator screen, order whatever I wanted, and then receive it only a little while later through the small door next to the elevator. I didn’t know what day it was, but that didn’t matter much to me.

“So, Crystal.” I said as I marched into the library. She was laying on her usual sofa, stretched out, reading a book and looking comfortable.

She glanced up at me, “What do you want?”

“I’m feeling like we aren’t really vibe-ing yet.” I lifted her legs as I sat down on her sofa and put them on my lap.

She rolled her eyes. By this time, she was used to my relentless flirting and didn’t care anymore. This was good, it meant I was making progress. I reached out and plucked the book from her hand.

“Hey!” She protested, “Give it back!”

She sat up, reaching for the book, but I held it out of her reach. Finally, when she realized she couldn’t reach it, she sat back, arms crossed and a cute pout crossing her face.

“I’m not going to do what you want me to do.” She said, crossing her arms defiantly.

“And what is that?” I smirked.

“I’m not going to climb all over you to get my book just so you can grab me.”

She was smart.

“Dang.” I said, but I kept the book far away from her.

“Justin!” She protested reaching for it again. This time, though, I had a plan.

I grabbed her arm as she reached for the book and jerked her forward, causing her to flail onto my lap. Then I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into a sitting position, so she was straddling my lap. I kept my free arm around her waist, holding her against me, but kept the book out of her reach.

“Don’t do that!” She attempted to squirm away but was unsuccessful.

“Do what?”

“Don’t grab me and don’t—just give me my book.”

I laughed, “It’s been three weeks and you never pay me any attention. We’re going to be stuck here until we turn old and might as well just get started now. I’ll do a trade.”

She eyed me suspiciously, her blonde hair falling over her face, “What kind of trade?”

“I’ll give you your book and you give me a kiss. Whether it means something or not.”

“Typical.” She grumbled, “You give me my book and a day of peace also a mango daiquiri at lunch time and I’ll give you a kiss.”

I sat quietly, watching her. Then I threw the book at the other sofa, and my hand dropped to her thigh, bringing her even closer, “Deal.” I said simply.

“But it doesn’t mean anything.” She said quickly, her eyes dropping to my lips.

“Keep telling yourself that, jewel.”

Her eyes flashed at the nickname and she grabbed the collar of my shirt, “One time.” She growled, but half to herself, before she pushed her lips against mine in a hot, searing kiss. I pushed against her lips with my tongue until she hesitantly let me in. I flipped her around on the couch, causing her to release a tiny squeak into my mouth, and spread her legs as I settled down between them, my arms holding tightly onto her waist. She buried a hand in my hair and pulled me in deeper before pulling away slightly, letting our lips barely brush. She giggled as I buried my face into her neck and groaned.

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“Why do you have to be so beautiful?” I demanded, kissing her neck slightly. With our close proximity, I felt a shiver run through her.

Then I pulled back, watching her. She stared back at me with her light turquoise eyes and smirked. I grabbed her again, reaching for her lips, but she placed a hand over my mouth, “One. Kiss.” She said simply.

I sighed, “Two?” I asked, my voice muffled by her hand.

But she shook her head, “One. And now I want my mango daiquiri.”

“Fine.” I grumbled, rolling off the couch and walking away. Halfway to the door, I turned back around. She had stood up and grabbed her book from the sofa, facing away from me. I grinned to myself and ran silently back to her, before wrapping my arms around her waist and turning her to face me, “Justin. Mango. Daiquiri.” She said, ignoring my groan.

Then I easily flipped her over my shoulder and began to carry her out of the library, “Justin!” She protested, “You’re not keeping up your end of the deal! I want peace and a mango daiquiri!”

“And you will get peace once I’m done with you.”

“No.” She wiggled in my arms, but only succeeded in pulling her shirt up slightly. I kissed her bare waist, producing another surprised squeak.

“I said one kiss, Justin!”

I sighed as I put her on the kitchen counter, then I looked up at her with the best puppy dog eyes I could muster. But she stared back at me with her blue ones and remained stoic in her decision.

“Okay, fine.” I grumbled, lifting her up off the counter and putting her down. I turned to the screen and ordered a mango daiquiri, then returned my attention back to her.

“But, why?” I asked.

“Why, what?” She had opened a fridge and was looking through its contents.

Even thought we got full cooked meals from the screen, we often had snacks and random ingredients in the fridge and pantry, like a normal home, in case we wanted to cook something by ourselves.

She closed the fridge with a sigh and turned to the pantry.

“Why can I not kiss you? Even though you’re my mate?”

“Because I will not fall in love.”

“But why not?”

“You ever had your heart broken, Sanchez?” She demanded, pulling a box of cereal out of the pantry.

“I believe I…Well…”

“You don’t remember, huh?”

“Well, no.”

“Okay, so in the three weeks that you’ve been here have you ever wondered what life was like before this place?”

“But what if there is no other place?”

“There has to be. Where else would we have been born?”

“Maybe our parents were all in houses like this.”

“Then why don’t you remember anything like that?” She poured herself a bowl.

“Because… wait…what do you mean me? What about you?”

She hesitated now.

“Do you remember?” I demanded.

“Bits and pieces, yes. Not everything.”

“Then what’s it like?”

“Not like this, that’s for sure.” She pulled her daiquiri out of the small compartment and turned back to the library with her bowl and drink.

“Aren’t you going to tell me more?” I yelled after her.

“Maybe later. Right now, I’m going to eat, drink and read in peace.” She shut the door and left me alone for the rest of the day.