A/N: This is my first Unwind fanfiction. Neal Shusterman is a freaking genius, so much so that I wish I owned these characters. Sadly, I do not. Reviews are welcome and appreciated. I don't usually write first person and present tense, so if anybody sees any grammatical errors, please let me know. And please, please, PLEASE review. It lets me know people are reading, and critiques are especially needed to help me improve my writing. My dream is to one day become a published author, and all reviews help me accomplish my goal a little bit at a time. I can only get better, so please review!

Okay, speeh done. :P Hope you enjoy the story!

~Becky Sky:)

Ariana

The toll of the doorbell echoes throughout the house. Ariana, sitting at the kitchen table painting her fingernails black, sighs. Her parents are at work, leaving her alone in their mansion of a building. Knowing she isn't supposed to open the door to strangers, she ignores it when it rings again.

However, when she hears the front door creak open, she freezes, dipping the brush back into the polish and screwing the lid tight. Her breathing begins to quicken, as her heart beats fear into her veins. She waits to hear footsteps, to listen as an intruder trespasses in her home.

Ariana is not the fighting type, but she thinks she could defend herself if she absolutely had to. This brings to mind the crooked smile and defensive eyes of Connor, and she banishes his face away. He's probably been caught and unwound by now. It's been at least a year and a half. Even though the ages of unwinding have been changed to between thirteen and seventeen, Ariana holds little faith that her compulsive, headstrong boyfriend has survived.

Sometimes she wonders why she did not go with him.

Footsteps sound in the hallway, and she suddenly remembers that she's not alone anymore. Rising to her feet, she tiptoes across the tiled floor and peeks around the wall.

Her heart leaps when she sees messy brown hair. But she cannot see the rest of the person. He's turned around to survey the area, as though taking it all in. Then he turns around.

"Ariana?" he calls. "Are you home?"

Her knees buckle under her, and she can feel herself going pale. She wonders if she's going to faint, but keeps herself upright by gripping the wall tightly. Connor? She wants to whisper, though the rapid pounding of her heart clogs her throat. Though she's tried to convince herself daily she doesn't miss him, the thought of him no longer together, no longer all Connor- rebellious, idiotic Connor, makes her squirm. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Ariana is living proof of that.

"Connor?" she half-yells before her swirling mind makes her dizzy. He whirls, startled. Why? He must have expected her to be home if he suddenly showed up.

Never mind. It doesn't matter. All that she cares about is that he's here!

Hurling herself at him, she surprises them both when she wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him. She presses herself against him, as closely as possible, inhaling his scent and feeling the warmth of his skin through his light t-shirt. THIS is what she's missed, the feeling of being owned and needed and desired and loved. By Connor.

Then his hands are on her arms, carefully prying them from around his neck. Her lips reluctantly leave his, and she stares into his eyes in confusion. They're full of pity and… guilt?

Then she realizes that one eye- his right eye- is a smidgen darker than the left one. It blinks erratically of its own volition, while the other stares unblinkingly. A gross, weighty feeling pits in her stomach. She stares at the rest of him, down at the hands that gently hold her arm. His right arm seems slightly more muscular… and what the hell's with the shark tattoo?

"What are you doing?" she asks. "What's wrong?"

Connor

Connor stares at Ariana, the feel of her lips against his fresh in his mind. To say he enjoyed the feel of her in his arms again would betray his heart. Guilt swarms him, especially since he knows Risa waits outside, her wheelchair inaccessible to his ex-girlfriend's home. I'm so sick, he thinks in disgust. I bring my girlfriend to my ex's house.

"Everything," he answers her. "You… things have changed, Ariana."

Her eyes squint prettily as she frowns. How squinting is pretty, Connor does not know. All he knows that if Risa squinted like that at him, it usually meant she was angry.

"How so?"

Connor is at a loss for words. How does he explain everything that's happened to him within the last year? How he hopes she can accept his friendship, his feelings for another?

Who's he kidding? Why is he here for, anyway?

From outside, the rattle of metal catches his attention, reminding him of Risa's wheelchair. Suddenly, the answer strikes him like a lightning bolt. He's here for the Unwinds. He's here for Risa, to stand for her when she cannot. He's here to represent his friends- Hayden, Emby, and the various other Unwinds he's met.

But how he does he explain, in such an awkward position, how important his cause is to him, how he hopes she can join their fight?

Again, the answer comes to him with the clinking sounds from outside. What better way to show how much Unwinds mean to him than showing Ariana the one that meant the most to him in the world?

"Come with me," he says, and tugs her in the direction of the door. At first, she hesitates, then willingly follows.

Before they reach the doorway, she pauses. "Connor, before we go wherever you want us to go…" Her eyes, once more the same violet they'd been the night Connor's life changed forever, glimmer with tears.

Oh no. PLEASE do NOT cry.

She doesn't. Instead, she swallows her words and nods.

Silently, Connor leads her out the door.

Risa is waiting, her fingertips impatiently tapping along the forearm of the wheelchair, as though instinctively desiring piano keys. She takes in the multi-colour haired, strange violet-eyed Ariana without a word, shaking her long brown hair into her equally brown eyes and staring sullenly at the ground.

Ariana stops short when she sees the girl in the wheelchair. She cannot mask her discomposure as she turns to Connor and hisses, "Who's she?"

Connor smiles what he hopes is a placating smile, practiced many times in front of a mirror. "This is Risa."

"She's in a wheelchair!"

"Hmm." Connor is not impressed by Ariana's skills in observing the obvious.

"Why is she here?" Ariana asks next. He can read the question in her eyes: What does she have to do with you?

Before Connor can reply, an irritated voice interrupts them. "You know, you can talk to me. I'm right here, after all. Just because I'm in a wheelchair doesn't mean I'm stupid."

He winces. Oh, Risa. There goes his hopes of having a peaceful, friendly conversation.

Risa

It's not that she regrets coming with Connor to see Ariana. Risa would never admit it aloud, but she'd be willing to follow him to the ends of the earth and back if necessary. It both discomforts and exhilarates her. To be so vulnerable and open to one special person- to have love for only him and him for her… it's such a new feeling that she doesn't understand herself most days. Sometimes she's so happy she could reach for the stars, and others she's so sad she cries herself to sleep.

And having people talk about her as though she doesn't even exist- as though she's been unwound- just makes her angry. Extremely angry.

So she stares at Ariana, at her fake, stupid purple eyes with her own dull brown ones. Ariana fidgets and glances at Connor, who stares at Risa with a pleading look on his face. She takes the time to answer it with a sharp glare that says, Don't look like that, you look like a dork. If it were you, what would YOU do?

He stares at the ground, as though soil holds the secret to the next breakthrough in science. Who knows, maybe one day it will.

Ariana shifts from one foot to another, still staring at Connor, as though he's supposed to explain Risa's existence. This makes Risa even more cantankerous. She can speak for herself.

"So, you're… Araina?" she asks, watching for the girl's reaction, discovering which buttons she could press, how much power this girl would give her. Ariana's face flushes in embarrassment as she opens her mouth to correct her, then snaps it shut. Risa can almost read the awkward question in her eyes: Is it right to correct a disabled person?

She begins to giggle hysterically, so amazed by Ariana's tentativeness that her anger bubbles over into laughter. Why does this girl act as though Risa's not human, incapable of receiving correction? As though, once Ariana's said something to her, she breaks some ridiculous law regarding the behaviour of one towards an invalid.

Don't correct an invalid if they're wrong. Why make their life any more complicated? Or, Risa adds inside her head, Why go to the bother of helping them increase their knowledge? They're never going to amount to anything anyways.

She can picture the rulebook in her head, as though it's actually real. It only opens her eyes further to the blindness of the outside world towards Unwinds and the handicapped like her. THEY ARE PEOPLE TOO!

"It's alright, I know your real name," she says. "You don't have to correct me, though I'd have been much happier if you had."

Ariana

Ariana says nothing. What can she say? This girl, with her flashing brown eyes and flat brown hair, actually intimidates her. Her initial reaction to seeing a girl in a wheelchair had been disbelief. Then, as she noted the silent communication between the girl- Risa- and Connor, she had sensed the connection between them. It's so strong she can see it in the way Connor stands so relaxed in her presence, as though he's used to Risa's condition and doesn't want to sit down to make her feel more at home. And Risa acts as though she doesn't expect- or want- him to.

Now Ariana does not know what to think. Why had Connor come, if not to hold her in his arms and kiss her, and make her feel special again?

She almost doesn't want to know the answer.

"Oh," she finally says. Risa smirks as though she's won a battle.

Witch, Ariana thinks. She doesn't like this girl. But she's not here for her. She's here for Connor. Wandering over to him, she taps his shoulder. When he doesn't respond, she jabs him. He jumps, tearing his gaze away from the ground to look at her. His eyes flutter rapidly, and Ariana remembers the time when she could have kissed those eyelids and he would not have pulled away.

STOP.

"What did you bring me out here for?" she demands.

Connor breathes deeply, then, much to her dismay, he walks over to Risa. He stands behind her wheelchair, resting a hand on her shoulder. Ariana's eyes are drawn to that hand, to the fingers that slightly curl into Risa's blouse, his touch saturating through her shirt to warm her skin.

When he talks, she doesn't hear what he says.

"Pardon?"

"I said, will you join us?"

Her head snaps up, and she stares at him in bewilderment. "What?"

Connor

"What do you mean?" Ariana repeats. "Join you in what?"

Suddenly Connor begins to feel that coming here was a bad idea. Cars drive by, their drivers peering curiously at the strange ensemble of people standing outside. Nervous, he clears his throat. "Will you come with us?" he asks. "We have to talk privately."

Ariana frowns. "We can go in the house."

Connor shakes his head. "No. Someone may catch us." An idea dawns. "I know where we can go," he says. "The overpass."

Ariana's eyes widen, and Risa turns to look at him. "The overpass?" she asks. Connor nods. "It's not too far. Ariana and I…" he trails off, suddenly realizing that isn't the sort of thing you talk about with your current girlfriend. "We used to hang out there a lot," he finishes lamely.

"And what? Smoke drugs?" Risa asks snidely. Connor ducks his head, mentally kicking himself. Sometimes he wishes Risa could be stupid, like so many other girls that gladly disillusion themselves.

"Anyways," Ariana interrupts, eying him keenly. "Does it have to do with anything illegal?"

He cannot answer her. Aiding Unwinds is illegal, but it shouldn't be.

Her eyes widen and she shakes her head fervently, stepping back. "No way in hell, Connor," she snaps, turning away from him. No! She needs this as much as he did. He steps forward, catching her hand in his. She starts, head whipping back to look at him as memories trickle across his skin.

Rose perfume. White teeth sparkle in the moonlight. Soft velvet crinkles against his skin. Her breath tickles his eardrum.

STOP! Connor catches the memories in his mind and thrusts them out. He closes his eyes, thinking of Risa. What he gets is tears, warmth, and sunshine. Heat, sweat, and brown hair. Piano music dances across his mind, as smooth and quick as Risa's nifty fingers. When he opens his eyes, he realizes both girls are looking at him. He's still holding Ariana's hand.

He drops it, then straightens his shoulders. "Please, just talk with us," he says gruffly.

Again, Ariana wavers. Then, with a sigh, she nods.

Risa wheels herself towards the van parked at the sidewalk, Connor following with Ariana trailing behind. Connor aids Risa in climbing into the van, lifting her with his stronger arm, packing the wheelchair into the very back, and then gingerly placing her in a seat. A strand of her hair catches on his finger, and he kisses it. It's a habit he's gotten into, something special between them. Immediately, Risa reaches out and rubs the shark tattoo on his right wrist with her thumb, smiling up at him.

The smile undoes him. Risa's genuine smiles are rare. He reaches down and steals a kiss from her lips. He hears the breath whoosh from her lungs. "Did I steal your breath?" he asks, trying to sound sexy but failing miserably. Instead, his voice sounds hoarse and scratchy, as though he's swallowed a frog.

She snorts, ruffling his hair affectionately. Then Connor notices Ariana watching them, a strange look on her face. He looks down, but Risa has no such qualms about their relationship. She stares calmly at the other girl, until Ariana climbs into the front seat and doesn't bother looking back. Connor takes the wheel, trying to meet Risa's gaze in the rear-view mirror, but she's already staring out the window. Beside him, Ariana waits patiently for him to start the car.

"I have to be home before five." Or not so patiently.

"Alright." Connor nods, turns the key in the ignition, and then they're driving off to the overpass.

Risa

Connor parks on a side street, turning to Ariana with a small smile. "Remember where we're going?"

Ariana nods.

Risa sighs. "Am I the only one out of the loop?"

"Oh, sorry." Connor turns to her, then an odd mixture of dread and realization crosses his face. "Oh god. I don't know if you'll be able to get to the overpass."

"Well, why don't we just talk here then?" she asks. "Why go to all this trouble?"

"I… the overpass is just a really special place," Connor admits. "That's all." He frowns, then a determined look crosses his face.

"No," Risa says, knowing that look. "No while you're ahead."

"Yes. I'll carry you up there."

"NO."

"Yes."

"Why?" she asks, hating the fact that she sounds whiny.

"Because it's a place I want to show you," he says, and the gaze he gives her makes her pause. It's full of pain and sadness and… love. Her stomach tingles pleasantly, and, for a moment, she can see herself and Connor in the future, happy and married, with children…

No. She doesn't allow herself that luxury of hope. Besides, she can't bear children. She can't even… to her horror, her mind swerves crazily. No, don't think that! Her brain screams. But the fact that she and Connor will never be able to become that close bothers her.

"Alright," she agrees, just to feel the comfort of his arms around her. Ariana and Connor step out, and Connor circles around to open the door and gather her up. She wraps her arms around his neck.

To her dismay, tears spring to her eyes as she begins to think of all the things she can't give him. Her gaze slides to Ariana, body complete and in working order. The government would adore unwinding a girl like that.

"What's wrong?" Connor asks. She shakes her head. She can't admit her doubts to him. In a world as crazy as the one they live in, it's a death sentence. Besides, it's too embarrassing to say she thinks about that. What if he doesn't see her the same way? What if her feelings about the subject are unrequited?

Risa decides not to think about it. Instead, she buries her face into his neck and allows him to carry her away to wherever they're going. At this rate, she doesn't even care. All that exists to her now is the reality of his arms around her, cradling her like a small child. And when he stumbles, she flexes, trying to make herself lighter. Nevertheless, he just holds her closer and tighter.

Which just makes Risa love him even more.