Code: R |ONC 2024|

03

Emily

"Earlier, you mentioned a Cursor, what's that?"

Pixel spins on his heels to face me while his arms stretch out wide before rounding back to his sides, and I notice his outfit, along with the faintest glimpse of a tanned navel. I've never seen a getup quite like his, but he looks normal in it. A white oversized shirt that brushes something more defined underneath, a black tracksuit jacket that reaches his waist, and a pair of baggy cargo bottoms.

Great, more cargos.

"Cursors are people who reside in the phone, but there are two types"—he flicks up a finger— "One would be a person who got trapped in here like I mentioned earlier, and second"—he adds another— "is a Pixel. They're built into the device. There's. . . no way for them to get out of the screen."

His voice sounds glum when he informs me of the last part, and I can't help but feel bad for them. On the other hand, how would they feel being sucked out of a world they have known as I have? Would they even want to leave?

Noticing my fallen expression, he tries to put on a merrier smile, and it makes me feel better but awkward because I've made it appear worse than it might be. However, his expression doesn't change my mind, I saw how the idea makes him feel, and he doesn't like the thought of it either.

Clearing my throat with more effort than I thought necessary, I clarify his statement. "So, if I press this Recovery Button, I'll be able to go home?"

His head bobs, and that's when his hair flops back into its original state: longer one side and a slight fuzz on the other, but it doesn't look punkish like his clothes. It has a warm teddy effect, and just thinking of that makes me want to cringe. I've had my time for the teddy bear act, now I'm past that. Past men.

"That's right," he answers, running his fingers through the longer side this time, "but it will be in your Settings."

My brows furrow at the piece of knowledge he's given. The number of times I've been in my Settings, I don't recall any button of the sort. Coming to a standstill to catch my breath, my hands find my hips. "How come I've never seen this button on my phone?"

Slowing down, Pixel swivels to face me with a knowing look on his face. "For you, that would be Factory Reset; anything that's amiss with your device, or you need to wipe the slate clean, you hit that button. This would be the reverse of that. It will clear up the amiss in here, which is you, and then you will be restored."

I'm not sure how he makes everything sound simple when it shouldn't be, but I'm starting to feel thankful Pixel was the man I bumped into down here. But another question is why he wants to help me.

Unable to hold back the desired question, I ask him. "Pixel, why do you want to make sure I get home so much?"

His expression twitches, but he's quick in masking whatever it was going to be with another casual smile. "Come on, Blondie, we better keep moving."

I shake my head, pinning him with the answer me first, look.

Scrubbing his jaw, he works his hand round to the back of his neck before he responds. "Because I don't believe someone should be trapped, especially in a place that's not their own."

Spotting my hands wringing around one another, his eyes soften. Even though it's for my benefit, there's still that look in his eyes. It reminds me of someone who has been defeated or stricken with sadness. When I think I've got it pinned, it changes just as quick as it came, and he inclines his head toward the end of the chapter, hopefully. Kicking the floor, I follow him, and my eyes wander for look-out if those page thieves come, but I find something else entirely.