Read An Anonymous Girl for Free Online

you ask if the format will be the same as yesterday’s. He responds affirmatively, but can’t provide you with much more information. He isn’t permitted to share what little he knows; he has also signed a nondisclosure agreement.

    As before, the slim, silver laptop is set up in the first row. Your instructions are visible on the screen, along with a greeting:
Welcome Back, Subject 52.
    You take off your coat and ease into the chair. Many of the other young women who have occupied this seat are almost indistinguishable, with their long, straightened hair, nervous giggles, and coltish frames. You stand out, and notonly because of your unconventional beauty.
    Your posture is almost rigid. You remain immobile for approximately five seconds. Your pupils are slightly dilated and your lips are pressed firmly together; classic symptoms of anxiety. You take a deep breath as you press the
Enter
key.
    The first question appears on the screen. You read it, then your body relaxes and your mouth softens. Youlift your eyes to the ceiling. You give a brisk nod, bend your head, and begin to type quickly.
    You are relieved the final query from yesterday, the one you struggled with, is not on the screen.
    By the third question, any remaining tension has evaporated from your body. Your guard is down. Your answers, as during the last session, do not disappoint. They are fresh, unfiltered.
    I didn’teven leave him a note when I snuck out,
you write in response to the fourth question, the one that asks:
When was the last time you treated someone unfairly, and why?
    The survey questions are deliberately open-ended so subjects can steer them in the direction of their choosing. Most female subjects shy away from the topic of sex, at least this early in the process. But this is the second timeyou’ve explored a subject that makes many people self-conscious. You elaborate: I
figured we’d sleep together and then I’d leave. That’s what usually happens on nights like this. But on the way to his place, we passed a pretzel vendor and
I started to buy one because
I hadn’t eaten since lunch. “No way,” he said, pulling me away. “I make the best French toast in the city.”
    But I fell asleepon his couch when he ran out to get eggs.
    You are frowning now. Is this due to regret?
    You continue to type:
I woke up around midnight. But I wasn’t going to stay, and it’s not just because of my dog. I guess I could have left my number, but I’m not looking for a relationship.
    You don’t want a man to get too close to you right now. It will be interesting if you elaborate on this, andfor a moment, it seems as if you will.
    Your fingers remain poised above the keyboard. Then you give a little shake of your head and you touch
Enter
to submit your answer.
    What else was it that you were tempted to write?
    When the next question appears, your fingers fly back to the computer. But you don’t respond to it. Instead, you pose a query of your own to your questioner.
    Ihope it’s okay if
I break the rules, but
I just thought of something,
you type.
I didn’t feel guilty when I left that guy’s place. I went home, walked Leo, and slept in my own bed. When
I woke up this morning, I’d almost forgotten about him. But now I
wonder if
I was rude. Is it possible that this morality survey is making me more moral?
    The more you disclose about yourself, Subject 52, themore compelling the picture of you becomes.
    Out of all the subjects who have participated in this study, only one has ever directly addressed the questioner before: Subject 5. She was different from the rest in many other ways, too.
    Subject 5 became . . . special. And disappointing. And ultimately, heartbreaking.

CHAPTER
SEVEN
    Wednesday, November 21
    Moral questions lurk everywhere.
    As I buy a banana and water for the bus ride home, the weary-looking cashier in the terminal kiosk gives me change for a ten instead of a five. A woman with pockmarked skin and crooked teeth holds a flimsy