Regenerate

  I turn on him. “What on earth is that supposed to mean?” What does he think Rax is going to say?

  Lander gives me a shrewd sideways glance. “I think we can both see he’s nervous to say whatever it is he’s put together. Just brace yourself for the worst and remember what I said. It’s only telling about him.”

  I clench my teeth. I don’t like him talking about Raxtin that way. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. He’s doing me a favor by giving my speech.”

  Lander rolls his eyes. “Sure he is.”

  My arms and legs stiffen straight. “He IS. He only offered because I was freaking out the other day.”

  Lander gives an ugly, cynical laugh. “Averi, I bet you anything his speech has been written for months. You freaking out just gave him the chance to offer without giving it away.”

  I open my mouth to retort, but my Pocket Palm vibrates with an alert to report backstage for speeches. I don’t even realize I’m breathing heavy till Lander’s hands close firmly around my shoulders.

  The warmth of his palms and fingers radiates through my lace sleeves. I look up into his brilliant blue eyes. The contempt from a moment ago is nowhere to be found. “You’re beautiful, Averielle, and you’ll be just fine. I know it.” His words ease the edge of my nerves and I nod.

  Kachina waltzes over and links arms with me as we head backstage together.

  I can’t help stewing over Lander’s comment about Raxtin. Did Rax plan this all along? If so, why? My stomach quivers. What am I thinking will come out of his mouth? He’s dating Zephani, so he can’t say anything too unexpected. It’s not like he’s going to propose. For some reason, that thought does not ease my nerves.

  The seconds standing here waiting for my turn feel like an eternity. Is it awful I wish the Grand talking right now would keel over dead already? Every year this guy gives the longest drawling speeches. END so it’ll hurry up and be my turn. I’m going to have an aneurism standing here waiting.

  The roar of clapping hands breaks me from my internal rant. Oh no! He’s done. My knees are shaking as I try to use them to walk. I’m gripping the edge of my dress’s bodice so hard my knuckles are white. Don’t think about Grandma Ann, don’t think about getting married soon, don’t think about Dad or wonder why he’s not around. Crud, I just thought of all of them.

  The beam of light hits my eyes like I’m stepping into the sun after a migraine. I blink several times until my vision clears. The light sets my coral-colored dress glowing, and I swear I hear several people in the crowd below me gasp. It’s all I can do to edge my way forward. Then I see Raxtin a few feet from my destination. His smile as he watches me, gives me enough to reach where I need to be.

  I plant my feet firmly within the outlined ring and let go of my dress. I never know what to do with my hands; folding them looks grumpy and letting them hang at my sides is awkward. I opt for clasping my hands together in front of me. I glue my lips into a smile, but it feels more like a wobbly grimace.

  Rax clears his throat and pulls out his Pocket Palm so he can read his written speech from it. His eyes dart towards me one final time, then he starts.

  “Averielle, today we get to celebrate how much you mean to the community. For those wondering what I’m doing up here since I’m not technically family, the short answer is that you, Averi, are anything but ordinary, and a generic message about your importance would never do. A few days ago, I was thinking about what I would say tonight and suddenly remembered the day you moved to this village.”

  Say what? I’ve always lived here. I was born here.

  Rax goes on, no longer looking at his script. “Until then, I’d forgotten. It was the evening before our first day of preschool, and on my way from summer t-ball I met the prettiest brown-eyed little girl I’d ever seen. You were sitting on the front steps of the A building, wiping away tears with your pink polka-dot sleeves. The instant I laid eyes on you, I was determined to become friends. For the first year or so, all you’d talk about was your dad, and these amazing adventures you’d had together.”

  My lungs. I think my dress is shrinking. And did they put heaters in those spotlights? Good grief, let’s just cook the birthday GAPs. How has Raxtin never mentioned this before? Who forgets those kinds of details? . . . Oh, I guess I did too.

  Raxtin’s voice brings me back. “Your stories inspired me. If having a dad like that helped make you the incredible person you are, I wanted to be a dad who means as much to my own kids as your dad did to you.”

  The room is swaying. Oh please, please don’t let me pass out. Not now. Not here. Please.

  I look down at my feet, and there is Lander at the edge of the platform. My vision steadies, so I keep focusing only on him. His brow is pulled together and his eyes are studying me intensely. He keeps glancing over at Raxtin and glowering. What’s his deal with him? When Lander meets my gaze, he gives me a reassuring nod and a wink that makes his blue eyes sparkle. It both eases my nerves and gives me butterflies.

  Raxtin clears his throat, refocuses on his Pocket Palm, and keeps going. “You are the most amazing, beautiful girl I’ve ever met. I’ve loved every minute we’ve spent growing up together. If I had one wish for your birthday, it’d be to turn back the clock of childhood and spend more time together. But since that isn’t possible, I’ll say my fervent hope is that we stay firmly in each other’s future. You mean the world to . . . us. I’m glad you were born, and I love—I mean, we, your community, love you, including me. Happy birthday.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Did Raxtin just say he loves me?

  There’s an awkward moment of hesitation in the audience before the clapping ensues.

  I stiffly smile and wave out to the crowd, trying not to see faces and failing miserably. Zeph’s dark curls look like black steam coming off her. Her eyes are focused on Raxtin, and her fists are balled at her sides. She’s clenching her teeth so hard it looks painful.

  I swallow and look away before she can catch my stare. Why would he say that stuff in front of her, and in a room full of people?

  Amidst the clapping, Raxtin steps over and slides his arm around me, squeezing me into his side. I put my arm around him too, grateful for the comfort and the support of his tall frame so I don’t fall over on my face. He kisses the top of my head, and then we let go and walk off the stage together. I can still feel a trace of pressure on my head where he kissed it.

  The moment we’re offstage, I turn to him, but he puts his hand up and speaks first.

  “I know what you’re going to say, but Zeph and I broke up two days ago.”

  My mouth hangs open, the tongue-lashing I had ready now obsolete.

  He goes on. “Since it was so close to the party, Zeph and I agreed to go together so neither of us would be out a date.”

  “Still,” I say, finally finding my voice, “I—” A flood of well-wishing friends rushes in around us, congratulating Rax on his speech and me on . . . well, being born, I guess.

  Rax smiles and thanks them, but all the while he keeps looking back to me, an apologetic slant to his brow and one of his dimples showing.

  I try to summon up my best social skills and be cordial, but my head is really swimming.

  What stories did I tell Rax about my dad? If I liked my dad so much, why am I not with him? Did he die? A knot constricts my throat, and I force myself to swallow.

  A gentle pressure on my elbow seems to ground the room and my spinning head. Seeing Lander’s angular, tan face next to me tells me why.

  His blue eyes survey mine. “Well done, Miss Gouch. You made it through with your customary grace.”

  Grace? Yeah right. “You mean without having an asthma attack?” I accidently snort. “It was a close call.”

  He smiles and chuckles at my “graceful” snort. Then his eyes narrow, darting to Rax. “I can only imagine.”

  The momentary hardness in his expression softens as his eyes find me again. He just stares at me, long and easy. His hand slide
s down my arm and his fingers slips around mine. The look in his eyes makes me feel warm and completely beautiful.

  “You truly are stunning, Averielle, I hope you always know that,” he says.

  I’m not sure what to say. “Thank you.”

  The lights of the room dim and the crowd around us thickens. Music starts up, loud and vibrant. I’m not sure if the pressing crowd pulls us apart, or if he intentionally lets my hand slide out of his, but Lander disappears before my eyes.

  I wrap my arms around myself. How can I feel cold amongst so many moving bodies? I squint at the churning throng, searching for him, but he’s just gone. Instead I spot Jett and Kachina dancing together.

  “There you are!” says Kachina. She reaches her hand out to me and I take it. “You come dance with us, fellow birthday girl.”

  I join in the tiny circle of three but feel a little ridiculous. Where is everybody?

  A hand presses to the small of my back and I turn, expecting to find Lander.

  “Mind if I join you?” asks Rax, his hand still on me.

  It’s not Lander. I pin my arms to my stomach and swallow hard. “Oh, hey, Rax. Of course you can.”

  Raxtin leans in close. “It looks like both our dates decided to ditch us, but yours asked if I would escort you home. Are you all right with that?”

  My breath leaves me, like I just got socked in the stomach. “Wait, he what?”

  Raxtin clears his throat and restates. “Lander said he had to get home and didn’t want to cut your evening short, so he asked if I’d take you.”

  I blink to try and clear the sudden moisture in my eyes. “Oh. Yeah, that would be good. Thank you.” Lander didn’t even say goodbye. Why? What did I do?

  Raxtin’s hand slides off me, but he stays ducked close to talk. “This isn’t the most tactful timing and all, but will you allow me to make good on our plans from earlier in the year and be your escort for the rest of the night?”

  I look up into those hazel eyes I know so well. “That would be wonderful.”

  A soft smile parts his lips, revealing his straight white teeth and deep dimples. He nods. “All right then. Come on, birthday girl, let’s party.” Something mischievous plays across his face and he grabs both my hands, pulling me to the center of the dance floor with him.

  The hovering, twinkling ceiling lights of earlier have now become thousands of tiny colored strobes, pulsing to the rhythm of the music.

  Raxtin shouts loud enough for me to hear him over the thrumming beat. “Time to get your best groove on, Ave!” He busts a hysterical dance move involving both hip and shoulder action.

  I throw my hands over my mouth, laughing till I’m red in the face.

  He points at me to go next. I vigorously shake my head, but his grin only widens.

  “Heck no! You’re not getting out of this, Averielle.” He grabs my hand and twirls me around till I finally cave.

  I rock out one of my oldest, tackiest moves that I once heard called “air guitar,” and he nearly dies laughing at me.

  “There you go! There’s those mad dance skills I remember.”

  Raxtin’s steps and mine slow as we approach the A building.

  “Averi, this has been one of the funnest evenings I can remember. Thank you,” he says.

  I rub at my sore cheek muscles. “I don’t think I’ve laughed that hard since the time Jett bunny-hopped that barrel cactus and didn’t make it.”

  We both laugh and pull to a stop in front of my residence column.

  Rax sobers a little. His thick dark brows pull together. He steps closer till I feel quite small in the tall cast of his shadow. “I’ve missed having you around, Ave.”

  “I’ve been here. You’re the one who was dating Zeph,” I say.

  “That’s not what I meant. You haven’t been you in a long time. What I mean is I’ve just been missing your . . . you-ness.”

  I purse my lips to hide my smile. “That is a great word,”

  He blinks rapidly, fighting a smile too. “It is. I agree.”

  “You-ness?” I say. “Sounds like an old lady name.”

  He’s still smirking and losing the battle not to. “Don’t laugh, Averi, I’m trying to be serious here. And stop changing the subject.”

  I press a hand to my heart. “Me? You’re the one who’s reinventing the human language with your… your-ness.”

  He shuts his eyes and bites his inner lips, shaking his head. “No. Doesn’t work. That just sounds wrong.”

  I scratch my neck. “Yeah, it did sound a little gross, didn’t it?”

  “Yes. It did.” He chuckles and scrubs his hands over his face. “Oh, man. Anyway, as I was saying…” His eyes focus on mine. “I’ve missed you. Don’t leave like that anymore, please. I can’t stand it.”

  He places his hands around my shoulders, the thin lace of my dress’s sleeves allowing the warmth of his skin to brush mine.

  I draw a slow, unstable breath, letting him pull us closer together. “I’ll do my best.”

  His fingers trail down my arms and then he clasps my hands in his. He stares at me, eyes dancing in the light of the street LEDs.

  There’s a strange, eager tugging in my chest. It tingles on my skin like anticipation, waiting to be filled. I really want him to kiss me right now, but kissing two guys in one night seems like really poor etiquette.

  Raxtin’s mouth pulls to one side, kind of like a frown. He draws a quick breath through his nose and releases it. Then he leans down and gently kisses my forehead.

  “Good night, Averielle,” he whispers against my skin. With a final squeeze of my hands, he pulls away.

  “Good night,” I stammer as he heads down the street.

  I stand quiet and still, watching him go.

  Rax turns and looks over his shoulder at me. “You look incredible in that dress, by the way. And you handled tonight exceptionally well. Averielle, you really are a woman of strength.”

  His words hit me like a tidal wave. Those words don’t belong to him. Those are dad’s words.

  “Ave, honey, can I show you how to use those?” Dad reaches out towards my hands. “Wouldn’t want you losing one of your cute little fingers.” He gives my fingers a kiss as he slips the red-handled pruning shears out of my two-fisted grasp.

  He smiles at me. I love the way his smile makes me feel open and bright inside.

  The sky above is cloudless, and the rays of the sun warm my skin as we work outside our ground-level quarters. In the air, the rich smell of fresh-cut grass fills my lungs. The shrub in front of me is looking worse for the wear thanks to my four-year-old gardening skills, but Dad doesn’t seem to care.

  First he demonstrates how to hold and squeeze the handles of the shears, then how to clip off unwanted twigs. He places the shears back in my waiting grasp, cupping his hands around mine. “Now, let’s try together,” he says.

  I giggle as we carefully clip several twigs.

  “Dad, I love this!” I squeal. My feet do a happy dance in place.

  He kisses my cheek and winks at me. “I’m so glad. Honey, someday you’re going to be a great gardener, just like your Grandma Jo.”

  “Good day, Alex,” a man’s voice says behind us.

  We both startle.

  Dad jumps up straight and turns. Right behind us are two people, a man in a grey suit with very shiny black shoes, and a lady dressed like my caseworker, Donna.

  “What do you want? What are you doing here?” Dad says without greeting them. “I filed the weekly report yesterday, just as requested.” He sounds angry.

  “Of course,” says the man with the black shoes. “We’re just here to conduct our routine home visit, Mr. Caster.” He looks around Dad and smiles at me, but I don’t like it.

  My grip tightens around the shears still in my hands. I feel scared. Dad seems unhappy they’re here.

  We follow them inside and the man asks Dad to show him around our quarters. Dad tucks me under his arm and pulls me tight to his side. While he
and the man are talking, the lady holds her hand out to me with a pleasant smile. She has bright red nails that look pretty.

  “Averielle, will you show me you’re sleeping pod, dear?”

  I swallow and look up at dad. “Daddy, can I show her my pod?”

  He stops talking and looks down at me and then at the woman. Slowly he nods. The man asks him a question and Dad looks away again.

  My heart is pounding but I don’t know why. I slip my hand inside the woman’s and start leading her down our hall.

  She stops us as by the entry. “I brought a little treat for you, sweetie, but I forgot it in my transport. Let’s go grab it, then you can show me your pod. Ok?”

  I like treats. I nod and go with her.

  We climb in her transport and I wait for my treat, kicking my feet eagerly against the chair.

  We start driving.

  Are we supposed to be driving? “Daddy?” I ask. My eyes frantically search the small cabin space. Suddenly my tummy feels sick.

  The woman next to me says nothing. Her blood-red nails click loudly, tapping on her Pocket Palm.

  I turn in my seat to check out the window. My little chest is pounding out of control and my breath is starting to hitch.

  Outside, Dad runs from our quarters. His mouth is wide like he’s yelling, and his arms wave wildly over his head as he chases us. The man with black shoes tackles Dad to the ground and sits on him, but my dad is still fighting.

  Dark spots frame my vision and I’m shaking, gasping for air. “DADDY!” I scream, but he can’t hear me. I pound the window with my free hand, unable to get out. My other hand is still clutching the shears. Tears are streaming down my cheeks.

  The lady pats my back and I jerk away from her touch.

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” she says. “Your mommy and Granny Ann are waiting for us at the tram station. The three of you are going on a fun trip. You’re going to live in Arizona now.”

  “Daddy!” I sniff and sob uncontrollably. “DAAAAD!”