The Gender End

by Bella Forrest

  She broke off, her cheeks flushed with anger, and looked around. So did I, and I realized her voice had gotten loud enough to draw notice. Glaring at the people who had turned and stared, Amber held their gazes until they turned back to the party, and then sighed, speaking in a slightly lower voice.

  “So I snuck out. Jeff helped me, once I explained, and I took one of the cars over to the Vox estate and snuck in. Daddy designed their security system, so it was easy enough to bypass. I got into Logan’s room, and he looked at me like I was crazy for being there. We fought, and he just didn’t get it, so I told him to call off the contract… or have the coroner on standby on our wedding night.” She took a sip of her cider, draining it, and set the cup down on the table with a thud. “He called it off. I thought that would be the end of it, until my father informed me he’d found someone three times Logan’s age to marry me to—somebody richer, somebody who would pay even more money for me. Only a week later. That’s when I realized that was all I was or ever would be to him. So I ran away. I took a while to plan it, and looking back I didn’t have any idea what I was doing. But… Desmond found me and recruited me before I could get into any trouble.”

  She fell silent, and I reached forward and took her hand. “Amber, I’m so—”

  “Beautiful tonight,” said a deep voice from behind me, and I turned to see Logan standing there, two mugs in his hand. “For the beautiful bride,” he said, offering one, and I took it and handed it off to Tim, not having drained my original cider mug. “For the Lady Ashabee.”

  Amber stared at the mug, and then looked at him. “No one asked you to bring that,” she said mulishly.

  Logan arched an eyebrow and set the mug down. “It’s meant as a peace offering, Amber.”

  “Peace?” she scoffed. “I don’t want peace from you.”

  Logan’s fingers drummed against the back of my chair, and I realized he was leaning on it, staring at her. “And what do you want, exactly? Because I just want to talk. Honestly.”

  Amber’s eyes narrowed, and I felt myself becoming distinctly uncomfortable with the position I was sitting in, directly between the two of them. Before she could answer, Logan stopped leaning, taking his weight off my chair, and continued.

  “Listen, Amber. I’m this close to using your full name in public where all these lovely people can hear it. So are you going to keep acting like a child who has missed her naptime, or are you going to grow up and come have an adult conversation with me?”

  Amber leaned back in the chair and considered him for a long moment while Tim and I shifted uncomfortably. Watching her face changing, I just had to hide a little smile behind a napkin. I liked how Logan was calling her out the same way Amber usually called members of the rest of the group out. We all knew she could be a bit vindictive, and I didn’t want her to let it get in the way of things—if Logan Vox could get her to slow down enough to consider that, I would be more than impressed.

  After several heartbeats, she snatched up the mug and stood, draining it dry and setting it down next to her other empty mug. “All right,” she said slowly. “Let’s do this.”

  Then she moved away to a more private part of the hall, letting him follow her. I watched them go.

  “I would not want to be in that hallway,” said Owen wryly as he walked up, three plates of cake balanced in his hand. “Here, I figured you and Tim were craving a sugar high.” I reached up and took two of the plates, handing one to Tim and placing the other in front of me.

  “Thanks,” I said, immediately digging in. He sat down with a sigh as I took my first mouthful, and practically died. The cake was simple—vanilla—but oh, so delectable. Within moments, my chunk had disappeared as I quickly devoured it.

  Owen watched, his fork hovering between his plate and his mouth, and then pushed his piece over to me. “Here, you clearly need it more than I do.”

  I laughed, but didn’t hesitate, taking another bite and trying not to roll my eyes back in ecstasy. “Honestly,” I said around a mouthful, “I don’t know why everyone was telling me this was just a simple spread. Everything tastes amazing.”

  Owen chuckled and reached out and took my mug, taking a sip. “It’s because you’re happy,” he said. “When you’re happy, everything is just… better. The weather, the food, the air. How is the air, by the way?”

  I took a deep breath and then laughed, waving a hand across my nose. “Smells like men used to live here,” I said, and he snorted. We shared a laugh for a moment, and then it dropped off awkwardly.

  “Owen, I—”

  “Violet, I—”

  We both stopped as we stepped over each other’s words, and I leaned back. “You go first,” I said.

  “Well, I just wanted to say… I’m sorry.” I frowned, confused, but luckily he continued. “I’m sorry I just left you like that. I mean, what if Morgan hadn’t been a good princess? Or one of those berserkers who drank the water at the plant had gotten you?”

  I let out a surprised laugh, and then frowned when he looked up at me, his sincerity lying naked on his face. Letting out a breath, I leaned forward. “Owen, you did the best you could under the circumstances. We all did. That place was awful, and nightmarish, and—”

  “You shouldn’t have been alone on that bird,” he insisted angrily, and I shushed him, placing a hand over his.

  “Owen, can I say something? I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but you’re right.” He blinked in surprise, and I continued. “Absolutely right. As my bodyguard, you failed. But, as my friend, who was willing to sacrifice his life so that I could go in pursuit of the woman who had wronged him, you succeeded. And frankly, that’s all I want from you, and all I want to be with you: a friend, a comrade, a soldier at arms. Someone who, in fifty years, I can say ‘remember when’ to, and you’ll say that you do.”

  He sighed, and started to pull his hand away from mine. “Violet, I don’t really think I deserve—”

  “Oh, pish posh what you deserve,” I said, not letting him escape my gentle grasp. “Sometimes even you can’t see what you deserve, so you need to trust in your friends to tell you. And I’m telling you, I don’t bestow my friendship or love lightly. It might seem like it… given all the people here who care about me… but they all won it. Hell, even Thomas has won it, and I hated him when I met him. I thought he was cruel and weird.”

  A hint of a smile grazed Owen’s face for a second. “In your defense, he can be cruel, and he is weird.”

  I laughed, but refused to be derailed. “You need to stop being so hard on yourself, and you also need to go over there and talk to Morgan. She likes you. She likes you a lot.”

  His shoulders hunched, and he cast his gaze over to where the dark-haired girl stood, chatting with Drew. Or rather, it looked like Drew was interrogating her. “She… She likes me? Likes likes?”

  I blinked, surprised at first by the very childish phrase, and then looked over at Tim, whose face shared a look of bewilderment equal to the one I was sure mine wore.

  “You honestly didn’t know?”

  He shook his head, his eyes wide. “I… I… I just thought she was being nice.”

  Lowering my forehead to the table was dramatic, but it made him laugh, even as I banged my head against the wood a few times. Sitting up abruptly, I looked at him, and then reached out to cup his cheeks.

  “Owen. Go talk to her.”

  He hesitated, and then smiled, slow and steady. “You know what, I think I will!”

  Standing up, he took a minute to run his fingers through his hair, and then moved over toward Morgan. I looked over at Tim, who shook his head at me.

  “You right. You will be that wife.”

  I laughed—I couldn’t deny it—lightly squeezed his cheek, and looked out at the dance floor. Viggo was now dancing with Ms. Dale, swinging her around the floor while she laughed and then smacked him on the shoulder. They chatted as the music played, something slow and filled with harp sounds, and I smiled. Owen was right
. I was happy. “Happy” wasn’t even the word for it. I could feel everything around me glowing with joy, like it was radiating from my insides, impossible to contain, impossible to stop.

  Tim and I sat alone for a few more minutes, just enjoying the atmosphere and being next to each other, and then the song ended. Viggo instantly let Ms. Dale go and moved toward my table, his eyes finding mine. Ms. Dale trailed behind him and clapped her hands loudly. The music played on for a second and then was cut off, and Ms. Dale raised her mug.

  “Well, we have a few more surprises for you. We have some gifts, which you can open later, if you want, but there’s one very important one that we want to give you now.”

  I looked around the room, and watched as Amber and Logan stepped up to join Ms. Dale, followed closely by Owen and Morgan.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, and Ms. Dale smiled.

  “We’re not letting you go to Patrus alone,” she announced as Thomas pushed forward and came to stand next to Owen. “We’re going with you.”

  “And me,” whispered Tim.

  “And me,” resonated a deep, familiar voice, and I looked back toward the stairs and gaped.

  Solomon took a step forward, and another, moving slowly and steadily. I saw Dr. Tierney standing behind him, a smile on her face, and then I was moving, standing up and racing across the room. I pulled up short, suddenly afraid to touch him, and he stared at me, his dark eyes glittering. He’d shaved, and his hair had been cut. He was wearing pants and a sweater, but they seemed a bit snug on him.

  After a moment in which we stared at each other, my mind trying to find words as the events of the attack on the plant played through it again, he simply pulled me into a bear hug.

  “Hey, Violet,” he breathed. “Congratulations!”

  He lifted me off the ground and then sat me back down, but I kept my hands on his shoulders.

  “How… How is this…” The words seemed to dissolve in my mouth, and I looked at Dr. Tierney. “Benuxupane?” I asked, and she shook her head.

  “I think… I think they did something to him at the tower,” she said. “I can’t explain it, but when he woke up, he was speaking and behaving as normal. His readings are good and—”

  “He’s standing right here, and he wants to officially meet your husband.”

  I blinked up at Solomon, my smile growing wider and wider until I felt tears beginning to form. “I… Of course… I…”

  “I’m Viggo,” Viggo said helpfully from behind me, and I turned to see him standing there, holding out a hand. “And as I understand it, Violet and I both owe you our lives. Her twice over.”

  Solomon took Viggo’s hand and pumped it, hard. “It was nothing,” he rumbled, but his eyes clouded over, and I realized he was remembering everything that had happened, just as I had.

  “Solomon, you don’t even know why we’re going to Matrus,” I exclaimed, and he nodded solemnly.

  “I do. Dr. Tierney filled me in. It took a while.”

  I stared at him for a long moment, then took a step closer. “Solomon, you don’t have to do this. You’ve been through so much. Your mother needs to see you. She’s been so worried, and—”

  “Do you think I don’t know that, Violet?” Solomon announced, softly interrupting me. He lowered his gaze to the floor and shifted. “Violet, I… I remember some of the things I did. Not all of it, and I’m not sure which is worse—the ones I don’t know about, or the ones I do. I killed people… and I didn’t have any control over it.”

  “Solomon,” I breathed, guilt radiating through me. “Please. It’s my fault that you… that you took those pills. It’s my fault that you were in this mess. I swore I’d do something to help you, and you’re better now. I don’t want that to change. I can’t bear to see you hurting again.”

  “Violet, it’s not your fault. It’s Desmond’s. She gave me the pills without knowing exactly what they would do. She used me as her guinea pig, and I trusted her and went with it anyway.”

  “Yes, but if I hadn’t been so—”

  “You don’t get to be responsible for the decisions I make,” Solomon declared, resting his hand on my shoulder. “Violet, I respect your authority here, and I care for you deeply—but don’t you see I need this? I… I need a way to strike back at them. To put a stop to any future damage that Elena and Desmond have planned. I need something to absolve me of all the things… all of the things I’ve done. And Violet. I haven’t tested it out, but I think that whatever the people who healed me did, they didn’t take away my enhancement. I have this power now. I want to use it in a way that is better than I did while I couldn’t control myself.”

  He wasn’t angry. Or at least, he wasn’t angry with me. There was anger in him, but he kept it tightly leashed, and hidden behind a wall of granite. Even so, there was conviction behind it. I could feel it in his words and see it in how he looked at me. In that moment, I realized that he was right. I didn’t get to make his decisions for him, no matter how badly I wanted to make sure he was safe.

  “I’m not saying I understand,” I said after taking a moment to think about it. “But I know we could really use the help. So thank you.”

  “Of course, Violet,” he replied with a wan smile.

  “You’re more than welcome to be a part of the process,” I said, then turned my attention to the group that had assembled, still standing a few feet away. “But the rest of you should stay here. They’ll need all of you in the rebuilding process, and—”

  “We don’t care,” Ms. Dale cut in smoothly. “We’re going. Deal with it.”

  “I’ve already begun working on the plan,” Thomas added with a proud smile. “We can’t let you go in alone.”

  I stood, looking around the room, my eyes tearing up. I had no idea how I was supposed to respond to any of it, so I just hugged Ms. Dale, hard, and she hugged me back just as hard. When we’d held each other for a minute, she pushed me away, smoothing off the front of her shirt.

  “Getting me all sentimental,” she sniffed, her fingers going under her eyes to wipe away any sign of tears. “Now, you’ve got some presents to open! So let’s open them!”

  “Actually,” Thomas interjected, taking a step forward. “I was wondering if I could say something.” We all looked at the short man, and I watched, wondering what he was up to, as he adjusted his glasses and fidgeted.

  “Of course,” I said with a smile. “What is it?”

  “A speech,” he replied absentmindedly, pulling out a small green notebook and flipping it open to a page in the back. Viggo and I exchanged looks, and I took a few steps toward him, my hand extended, reaching for his and finding it.

  I looked up to see Thomas watching us, and after a moment, he closed the notebook and put it aside as he began to speak. “As you all know, love is… complicated for me. It is something that adheres to no scientific or mathematic principles—it cannot be measured, weighed, or calculated. As such, it’s hard to credit that it even exists. I was certain we could find life in the stars before we could find scientific evidence that love was real.” He shifted nervously, clearing his throat softly. “The love between Violet and Viggo has been our cornerstone for a long time; whether we were aware of it or not, their love for each other spilled onto the rest of us. I’ve run the numbers, and because of their… synchronicity, our missions succeeded when they should have failed. We believed, when we should’ve called it quits. And we won, when every possible odd was stacked against us. If there were a love that was close to being proven as a scientific reality, versus anecdotal evidence, then it would be between Viggo and Violet.”

  He finished with a nod, turned to collect his notebook, and then walked away. I watched him go, my heart thudding against my chest so hard I was convinced it was trying to collapse my lungs. How else could I explain the sudden lump in my throat or the inability to catch my breath fully?

  “That was beautiful,” Ms. Dale sniffed, and I looked over through watery eyes to see her pressing a napkin to h
er eye. “Downright poetry. Somebody put on some music quick, before I break down and cry!”

  I laughed, grateful to her for breaking the moment with a little humor, and reached out to take Viggo’s hand as he came to stand beside me. The intensity of Thomas’ speech had hit me somewhere deep—I’d had no idea that he had any thoughts, inspirational or otherwise, about Viggo’s and my romance. I guessed he kept them quiet, but I was so grateful to him for sharing them with us now… and if Ms. Dale hadn’t been talking about crying, I definitely would have.

  Viggo turned me around in his arms and tugged me close to his chest, touching my cheek and gazing down at me, and I could see in his eyes that he had been moved by the speech as well. The music clicked back on as the party resumed, but he only had eyes for me.

  “So our options are presents or dancing,” he announced softly. “Or… we sneak out and let them continue the party,” he whispered, and I grinned.

  “Yes… I like that last one.”

  OceanofPDF.com

  21

  OceanofPDF.com

  VIOLET

  We were halfway down the hall, hands laced together, a giggle at the back of my throat sometimes slipping out—when Ms. Dale’s voice brought Viggo and me to a screeching halt. With the nervous tremor of a child getting caught doing something wrong, I turned and saw her, one foot on the stairs with a hand up, something shiny dangling from her fingers.

  “We, uh, secured you one of the rooms in the teacher’s hall,” she said, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “Figured you’d want some privacy.”

  I blushed beet red, and Viggo stepped around me, hiding me from view as Ms. Dale tossed the keychain at him. The keys jingled as he caught them.

  “Thanks, Ms. Dale,” he said. “We… appreciate it.” Her laughter carried down the halls, the empty rooms reverberating with her delight.

  “Go up the second set of access stairs, turn left, second door on the left. Have fun, you two,” she drawled, her footsteps loud on the stairs. I waited until they faded, and then rested my forehead on Viggo’s back, groaning loudly.