by Ilima Todd
“Kai,” I whisper.
“I can’t hear you,” Theron yells in my ear.
I jerk my eyes open and pull back, looking up at him in surprise.
“What did you say?” he yells, his hand behind his ear.
I reach up and ask, “Can we leave?”
Theron hesitates, looking into my eyes for so long I have to look away.
“Come home with me?” he asks against my ear.
I nod and pull him out of the building. Away from Freedom Central. Away from thoughts of Kai.
Theron’s apartment is small but comfortable. Two stools are pulled up to a counter in his kitchen. A small table and a few chairs sit against the far wall next to a window. His bed takes up most of the room in the center, and a door to my left leads to what I assume is a shower and toilet.
He rushes in front of me, tossing clothes and trash off his bed and kicking them underneath. He scoops up a pile of dirty dishes and carries it to the kitchen sink. “Sorry,” he says. “I wasn’t planning on company today.”
“It’s okay,” I say, biting back a laugh. “I wasn’t planning on running into the ghost of my best friend today.” I glance around the room and allow myself to imagine what it would be like to live here. Wasn’t that our plan? To have an apartment together in Freedom?
Theron smiles. “Do you want something to eat?”
I shake my head. “Actually, I’d really like a shower. Is that okay?”
“Yes, of course.” Theron opens the door to the bathroom and grunts as he shifts items around on the floor and counter. “Here you go,” he says, leaning against the open door, making room for me to enter. “Do you want me to come in with you?”
My eyes go wide. “No,” I say too quickly, cringing at the hurt that flashes across his face. “I mean, thanks, but I’ll be okay.” I touch the side of his face and smile. I’d forgotten that this was so natural for us, showering together. I’m a little surprised by my instinct to refuse, like it’s something I would never consider. It’s no doubt a reflection of things I’ve learned, how I’ve changed from my time away from him. Away from Freedom. Of course, I didn’t consider why it wouldn’t be the same for him now.
“Okay,” he says, stepping out. “I’ll be right here if you need anything.”
“Thanks.”
The shower is hot and steaming, and the soap from the showerheads smells delicious. I admit to myself this is something I definitely missed from my life in Freedom. It’s something I wish I could’ve shown Kai. I laugh at myself for thinking it. Yes, this would be a selling point for living in Freedom for sure—the hot showers. I shake my head at how silly that sounds. It doesn’t matter, though. He’s gone.
He. Is. Gone.
I feel light-headed and dizzy, the sensation forcing me to the floor of the tub basin.
Curse you, Kai.
I was ready to give him everything. My love, my life. I kick at the side of the basin. Even the tub makes me think of him, reminding me of the day we started a splash fight with his family. I wonder how long it will take to stop seeing him in everything. To stop missing him every waking moment. Didn’t I feel the same way about Theron once? I’m not ready to go through that all over again. I run the shower cycle once more until I’m sure my world has stopped spinning.
When I come out, Theron jumps up from his bed and looks me up and down with a gulp.
“I’m sorry,” I say, tugging at the top I wear that falls to my mid-thigh. I found it in the bathroom. It’s obviously Theron’s and way too big for me. “We didn’t think about buying anything for me to sleep in. This looked more comfortable than the dress, and I really didn’t want to climb back into those Batcher clothes. I hope you don’t mind.”
Theron presses his lips together and shakes his head. “You look good in my clothes,” he says with a one-sided grin. “Really good.”
I place my things in a pile on the floor next to the bed, carefully putting the crumpled map from Miri on the bedside table.
He clears his throat. “I’m going to jump in the shower, too. You’ll be okay?”
I nod and smile, watching as he closes the door behind him. I wander through his apartment, unable to keep still. Though I told Theron I wasn’t hungry, my growling stomach disagrees, so I rifle through his kitchen cabinets, looking for something to eat.
I open the food chiller and laugh. How foreign it feels, to have access to perishable food kept cold in a simple box. I pull out a couple of eggs and set them on the counter. After putting salt and water on the stove to boil, I fill a bowl with some flour and crack the eggs into the bowl, mixing it together with my hands.
“What are you doing?” Theron’s voice makes me jump, and I look up to see him toweling off his hair.
I swallow hard. He isn’t wearing a shirt, just a pair of black shorts that sit low on his waist. His body is both familiar and foreign to me. I feel heat rise to my face at the sight of him and wonder if it’d be rude to ask him to put on a shirt.
“Are you cooking?” He’s genuinely surprised and raises an eyebrow, probably wondering if he should be impressed or make a run for it.
I force myself to look down at the dough in my hands. “Can you believe it?” I ask with a shaky voice. “I actually know how to cook something.” Plain pasta noodles aren’t exactly gourmet dining, but it’s fast and filling.
“Something edible?” He comes to stand next to me in the kitchen and watches as I manipulate the dough.
“Shut it,” I say. “Or I won’t let you have any.”
He snorts. “Is that supposed to be a bad thing?”
“I’m serious.” I plop the mess into his hands. “Be nice.” I turn on the water at the sink and peel at the sticky flour on my fingers. I nod at the dough in his hands. “Start kneading.”
“Start whating?”
I sigh and dry off my hands then take the dough back, showing him what to do. “Push, fold, turn.” I knead the dough against the counter, adding flour to the surface so it doesn’t stick. “Repeat a hundred times.” I grin and hand it back to him, patting the counter to encourage him to try.
“Push, fold, turn,” he says, poking at the dough. It barely moves.
“You’re going to have to push harder than that.” I place my hands over his and press down, so he feels how hard he needs to do it.
“Remind me to never get you angry,” he says, bending down to nudge my cheek. I suddenly realize how close we are. It’s so familiar, so natural. But it’s different, too. I step back and let him finish with the kneading.
I search through drawers for a rolling pin, settling on a large heavy glass instead. When I turn around, I stop breathing. I slide my hand to the base of Theron’s neck. There is a decidedly permanent tattoo there. My name, Nine, written in curving black letters. He turns around to face me, and I look at him in surprise.
“I had it done as soon as I got back,” he says. “Just like you wanted.”
I bite my lip to keep it from shaking.
Theron smiles and pulls me close. “I can’t believe it’s really you.” He breathes in deeply. “Mmm. I missed you.”
I can almost pretend we’ve never been apart. Like the shuttle crash and the months on the island were all a dream. Like I’ve been here this entire time with him instead. I close my eyes and whisper, “You have to roll it out.”
He pulls back. “Hmm?”
“The dough,” I say, opening my eyes and handing him the large glass. “Roll it out. As thin as you can get it.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says, winking at me. He rolls the dough into a giant rectangle, covering the entire surface of the counter. I help him gently fold it onto itself and slice it into thin strips, then drop each one into the boiling water.
“How long does it take?” he asks.
“Two minutes.”
“What are we going to do for two whole minutes?”
I meet his gaze. His blue eyes are deeper than they’ve ever been. They are an ocean I could get lost in for
ever if I wanted. It’s impossible to turn away, and I almost close my eyes.
I’m not who he thinks I am—who he remembers me to be. He sees me as a citizen of Freedom, but I don’t think like them anymore. And I can’t act like them either. Not after what I’ve learned on the island with my family. With Kai.
His hand brushes my cheek. He kisses me there, on the side of my face. Then his eyes venture toward my lips, and he kisses me at the corner of my mouth. He pulls away just barely, looking at me. His fingers touch the inside of my wrist, the sensation making me feel . . . uncomfortable.
I step back, shaking my head. I can’t do this. I can’t—
“Nine . . .” Theron’s voice is quiet but rough and makes my breath catch. “I love you, Nine,” he says, his voice barely there. His fingers slide along the scar on my upper arm. “I’ve always loved you.”
I watch his fingers and think about how I love him too. Only, I’m not sure if it’s the same way he means. I love him like I always have. Is that what he meant?
Hasn’t it always been Theron, since I can remember? We were made for each other. Always one, joined. And here like this, together, like we were always meant to be. We can become one in every way, and it will be the most natural thing in the world.
The thump, thump, thump of my heart feels like it will explode out of my chest. And I realize this is freedom. Our freedom. If I want it to be.
“Theron.” I squeeze my eyes shut and turn away. “I . . . I can’t.” I can’t be with you like this. I can’t pretend I never left Freedom. I can’t forget what I’ve learned on the island. I can’t forget Kai—no matter how much I want to right now. I just can’t.
Theron steps away and reaches to turn off the burner, then leans back against the counter. After gliding his hand through his hair, he nods and looks at me, angling my face back toward his. Softly. Like I’m a fragile piece of glass that could break at any moment. He is way too kind—always ready to take care of me. To say the words that will fill me with comfort when I’m feeling uncertain.
After a minute he asks, “Is it Kai?”
I tense at the name. “How do you—?”
“Kai came to the Healer building this morning. He’d asked around for me by name, and he seemed genuinely shocked when he finally found me.” Theron looks at me from beneath his long lashes. “He told me I needed to go to a certain room in the building during my break. He just gave me a room number and left.”
Kai had found Theron.
For me.
I glance at the note on the table beside his bed and draw my brows together. So Kai is a jerk with a conscience? Did he find Theron to make himself feel better about abandoning me? It doesn’t help as I replay through my mind every moment, every instance I’ve disappointed Kai. Was this last time just one too many?
Looking at Theron, I see a vulnerability I’ve never noticed before. It makes me wonder what these months have been like for him, thinking I was gone the same way I thought I’d lost him.
“Because if it’s about Kai, I . . .” Theron’s voice is tight. He squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath. “I’d be willing to share you. I mean . . . I’d never stop you from . . . if you loved him too, that is.” He opens his eyes and gulps. “I would never keep you from what you want.” He moves closer. “I won’t be selfish. As long as I can have you too.”
I don’t know how to respond, so I lean my head against his shoulder and instead say, “I missed you so much.”
“Don’t go.” Theron trembles. “You’ll stay with me tonight, yes?”
“Yes.”
He walks toward his bed and pulls back the covers. Crawling in, he makes room for me on one side.
“In a bit,” I say, keeping my distance. “I’m going to stay up a little longer.”
“Okay,” he says, hesitant.
I give him a reassuring smile and sit in a chair near the window. As I watch him fall asleep, I imagine lying beside him—his body tucked in my side, arms around my waist, embracing me. Something we’ve done a million times before. But this time would be different. I can’t deny the part inside me that says lying in bed with him like that would be wrong—a part that sounds suspiciously like Miriama. I smile, amazed that a parent’s words can reach across a wide ocean.
As Theron’s breathing falls into his familiar pattern of snore-breathe-whistle, I think of what he said about sharing me with Kai. I sigh, knowing that could never happen, not with Kai, at least. But Kai doesn’t want me at all. He has left. Gone. And he practically delivered Theron to me himself. Doesn’t that mean something?
It’s not like being with Theron would be as it is for others in Freedom. It would be more than just sex—it would mean something. He said he loves me, and I believe him. I would die for Theron; I would sacrifice everything for him. Doesn’t that mean I love him too? What was it Pua had said? When a man and a woman decide they love each other very much and want to spend the rest of their lives together . . . and with no one else. I cringe at that last part, thinking of Kai. It feels like the world is pressing in on my heart so tight, I’m in danger of disappearing all together. Is it too much to want to be loved? To let those words Pua once spoke—promise, love, always—become a permanent part of me? To want something . . . sacred?
My fingers tug on my hair. It is kind what Theron said about sharing me. Unselfish. Why did it make me feel lesser, then? Is it ridiculous for me to wish he’d want me for himself? To want him to be selfish and possessive and claim me as his own, not willing to share? I feel terrible for desiring that and frown. It’s all so confusing.
I wonder if I could stay here with him. Unlike Kai, Theron wants me. Maybe this place where I’ve always meant to stay is the place I should choose.
Theron and me.
Me and Theron.
Two perfect pieces in the puzzle that is my life.
When I wake, it is raining. It’s a bad omen—rain in Freedom.
I stand up from the chair I fell asleep in last night, my muscles screaming in response. I walk to the bed and sit on the edge. Theron’s back is toward me, and I trace the letters of his tattoo with my finger, remembering the day in Freedom Central when I gave him the temporary ink version. It feels like a lifetime ago.
Theron stirs and I pull back, folding my hands in my lap.
“Good morning,” he says, turning over and smiling his infectious smile. “How long have you been up?”
“Not long.”
“Are you hungry?” he asks, resting his hand against my bare leg.
I stiffen under his touch, the events of last night rushing back to me. I still haven’t figured out how the two of us are meant to fit together.
Theron raises an eyebrow, waiting for my answer about being hungry.
I manage a nod. We never did eat the pasta from last night, and I’m famished.
“Good.” He rolls away from me and out of bed. “I’m going to cook you breakfast.”
* * *
“Tell me who else survived the crash,” I say over a plate of eggs and sliced fruit. I push the food around my plate, smiling, thinking about how much Theron would have loved Miri’s onions and potatoes.
“Me,” Theron says, holding up one finger. He raises additional fingers as he continues. “Caley, Aver, Falan, Edge, and Sora.”
Such a small list. I bite my lip, thinking of the other Batch members whose lives were taken from them before they had a chance to really live. Sora survived. I wonder if she knew what happened to the two Batchers she was inseparable from. Cree’s body floating in front of me in the water. Bristol . . . killed in the aftermath.
“They all changed,” Theron says.
“What do you mean?” We’ve all changed, haven’t we, after experiencing such a tragedy? I can’t think how any of us will ever be the same again.
“After we were rescued, we were brought back here, back to Freedom. We spent three days in recovery and being questioned, and they gave us another chance to choose the details of our Remake
before putting us on another shuttle. Most changed the usual—hair, eyes, etc.” Theron takes a long drink of milk. “But they all decided to change genders. Every one of them.”
I remember Caley had chosen to become male, but the rest were going to keep their given gender. “Why’d they do that?”
Theron shrugs his shoulders. “I think they wanted to forget. Like maybe by changing they’d become an entirely different person, not who they were before. They could pretend the crash happened to someone not them.”
“But you didn’t change.”
“I didn’t want to forget who I was,” he says, taking my hand in his. “I didn’t want to forget you.”
I gaze at his broad shoulders, his hair, the stubble growing along his jaw. I’m not sure what changes in Theron are because of the male hormones that naturally surfaced without the blockers or are the traits he chose for his Remake. “What did you choose?” I ask. “For your Remake, I mean.”
“Besides my name and Trade . . . nothing.” His lips twitch. “I think half of me was afraid to get on another shuttle to go to the Remake facility. But really, I didn’t want to change because of you.” He slides his chair next to mine and leans toward me. “It’s silly really, but I thought, how will Nine recognize me, if she sees me in the street or in a crowd? I wanted to be the Theron you remembered.”
My eyes follow the curves of his face, examining every familiar line. “You are more than just a handsome face, Theron. You’re kind and sure and brave. You can make me laugh until my sides hurt, or tell me I’m so beautiful I can’t help but believe it.” I smile at his bright blue eyes. “You are love and sacrifice and”—I pause, searching for the right word—“family.” He doesn’t understand the term, but it means everything to me. He means everything. “I’d recognize you anywhere.” I bring his nose to mine and inhale, breathing in his essence. Exhale, giving him my own.
I pull back to see his chest, rising and falling. I feel the blood rush to my face and turn away, trying to chase away the sudden onslaught of emotion. “So,” I say, changing the subject. “Did you stay here, in Freedom then?”