by D. K. Dailey
“That’s awfully shallow of you.” I chuckle.
“Say one nice thing about me then.”
I start before she changes her mind. “You’re determined, strong, and stubborn. Hah—that’s three things.” I drop the new weeds, clap my hands together triumphantly, and then say quietly, “But the truth is, I don’t know you well enough to say much else. I can’t figure you out.”
“And you shouldn’t try.” She pushes her knees up to her chin. She’s so small that the motion makes her look like Cricket.
I digest her words. You shouldn’t try. One of the few rules of dealing with women I know is: don’t try to figure them out because a tumbleweed of complication and confusion will follow. Yet figuring Saya out despite the insanity of it motivates me. Maybe I’m incapable because I was Golden and she’s Dreg, and we have nothing in common. Maybe I should stop trying.
I could refuse my feelings, but denial is useless. I want to know her, inside and out. What makes her tick, cry, smile…I want to know everything. Understanding my feelings is difficult. My emotions torture me the more I keep them secret. Alone on this hilltop with her, I begin to grasp the strength of my feelings.
“I heard about your mate, Archer.” The words slip from my mouth before I catch them. Is he competition? I rub my hands together to release the lingering grass and dirt but more to keep my hands busy while I wait for the answer I desperately want to hear and not hear at the same time. It could destroy the idea that persistency will pay off with this girl.
“How do you know about him?” She narrows her eyes.
“Isa told me he was taken.”
“That wasn’t her business to tell.” Bitterness strings through her voice.
“And your dad, too. I’m sorry.”
“They’re gone, and Archer’s my ex anyway.” She looks up at the night sky again. I try to meet her eyes. This can’t be how she truly feels, even if she is the strongest girl I’ve ever met. Water builds in the corners of her eyes, and she closes them for a long moment. When they reopen, they’re emotionless.
“Wasn’t he your mate when he was taken?”
“I haven’t seen any Taken return, so he’s my ex.” Her tone reminds me of little Cricket’s voice when she spoke of Cress’s death. She’s obviously crushed but hiding behind a strong façade.
Silence consumes us. Pike thinks he knows the reason Dregs are being taken and wants me to help figure it out. Frankly, I’m privileged to be in on such a big secret, but it’s also a burden weighing me down.
Out of nowhere, Saya says, “You should take a shower regularly, by the way.”
“I washed up. You still think I stink?” I sniff the air dramatically. Is that really coming from me?
“Pulease! You can’t smell yourself?” She waves her hand in front of her nose.
“No one else has said anything.”
“Some of us are too polite.” A smile creases her juicy lips.
Reality check. I used to think all Dregs stunk. I sniffed Saya in the market the day we met and thought she didn’t smell bad for a Dreg. That she must shower and have a home. Ah, the dimwitted conclusions and ideas we conjure when we’re ignorant.
The edge of my mouth twitches into a smile. “So, you do have quips.”
“No, I’m serious.” She giggles. “You reek.” Her breath comes out in rasps because she’s laughing so hard.
I’m not really embarrassed cuz I’ve smelled bad after playing sports. What has me on edge is being alone with her. Smelly or not, this is my best chance to tell her how I feel. Cuz I don’t think she knows.
My heart drums in my ear. Can she hear the noisy declaration? My hands get clammy, and sweat gathers under my arms.
If I don’t make a move now, I might not get another chance.
I realize it then. My eyes give away the fact that I’m falling in love.
Clarity surfaces when she brushes her hair behind her ear. A vulnerable moment—like Dad said—that lets me know she likes me, too. Taking a deep breath, I go in for the kiss.
I might say I’ve kissed plenty of girls if someone asked me. But truthfully, Nell and Saya are the only ones. Girls have liked me in the past, but making a move wasn’t on my mind with any of them.
The urgency of Nell’s soft lips from the party lingers in my mind. I don’t mean to sound like a love-struck dummy or an insensitive prick, but Saya’s kiss replaces Nell’s. It’s magical. All you would expect a kiss to be. I bask in the warm, soft thrill of it. Lose myself in the adrenaline rush.
Brushing my lips over Saya’s erupts fluttering inside my stomach. My fingers string through her soft hair, pulling her closer until we are one, wanting to taste every breath, feeling every motion of our tongues colliding.
Her skin is smooth as silk, and her lips are wet, bringing forth tenderness I didn’t know I was capable of. My lips tingle, and my breaths grow hungry. Who knew a kiss from a Dreg could be so powerful?
She’s biting my lip now.
How sexy.
No. She’s zarding biting my lip.
Hard.
And now she’s pulling away.
I yelp and grab my lower lip. She doesn’t want to kiss me. Okay, message received. I pull back. Then what was with the long, drawn-out kiss before the bite? I could’ve sworn she kissed me back.
“Geesh. Guess I read all the signs wrong.” I dab my lip with my fingertips, searching for blood. None. But it hurts so badly.
“What signs? I told you, you stink.”
“But you were finally being nice.” Looking into her eyes, I say the next sentence under my breath. “And you brushed your hair behind your ear…”
She chortles like she’s choking on food. “Brushed my hair behind my ear? Really? You took that as a sign?”
“Sorry.” I send out a telepathic, sarcastic “thanks” to Dad for his bullshucky help.
“It’s all right. It was kind of nice until I realized I was kissing you.”
She’s teasing me…I think.
We laugh about my doink-ass move and about her reaction. Progress? Slow and steady wins the race. That’s how I’ll win her over. She just doesn’t know it yet.
Chapter Twenty-Five
We don’t talk on the way back to the rec center. Once inside, we go to sleep. When I finally wake, most people are up and about. The olden day wall clock shows it’s nearly one o’clock, which means I’ve missed breakfast and lunch.
Breakfast is my favorite meal, so I’m pissed I slept through it. They don’t have the kind of food I like, but it’s nourishing and keeps me from starving. That’s about all I’ve come to expect from Dreg food. I wish they’d fix that baker’s percentage Yimi talked about.
Walking toward the bathroom somehow pushes my failed attempt at kissing Saya back into my head, as if experiencing it once wasn’t enough. She said I stink. Well, maybe I’ll go clean up.
“Watch it there, Golden boy,” a woman with a Russian accent says.
I stop in my tracks and look up at her and the line of five girls waiting for the bathroom she’s coming out of. “Finally,” someone says. “Took you long enough, Cherry.”
“They complain every day.” She says to me only. “But being Dreg does not mean you can’t look fabulous.” Tossing her auburn hair over a shoulder, she sashays past me. Her long legs double the strides of someone as petite as Saya.
I laugh, letting her pass. She’s my height and could have been a model in the olden days. I nod at the girls, who suddenly don’t seem as mad at Cherry as they are interested in me. I finally brave the communal bath and shower and not just to wash up. Grosser than I thought, I’m almost glad I only used disposable cloths to clean up before. I’ve been freeballing it since I came here because I refuse to wear used underwear. But with no clothes of my own, I have no choice but to wear the same outfit again.
Once I’m done dressing, I come out and almost run into a guy I’ve seen tinkering with pieces of machinery around the center. His stuff is set up on the floor near the bathroom.
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“My fault. Didn’t see you.” I pick up my foot to avoid smashing one of the electronic parts.
He looks up. “You’re Kade, right?”
“Yeah.” I smile.
“I’m Carson. Would shake your hand, but mine is dirty.” I recognize the short black guy from when he helped to break up the fight in the chow line but I’ve never had the chance to talk to him since I’ve been absorbed solely on training. But he is intimidatingly buff, even with me standing over him. I’m like a big kid hovering over another kid playing with his toys, so I kneel down to examine what he’s working on.
He focuses back on the contraption, too.
“Nice to officially meet you, Carson.”
“I should find another place to work on this, but the light from the skylight here is the best.” His brow furrows in concentration as he rotates the object on the floor.
“What are you working on?”
“It’s a motor for a glider. Trying to test it inside with disrupted light and air, and then I’ll try it outside. I have to make positive it works in all circumstances.” His lips pull up into a grin, and his deep brown skin glows against exceptionally white teeth. Physically, he reminds me of an older, buffer version of Noodle. He’s approachable and focused on the task at hand.
“What’s a glider exactly?”
His eyes gleam as if he’s glad I asked the question. “A solar, motorized flying contraption that fits inside a slim backpack, can carry a load, and can be manipulated by remote.”
Screwing one part into another, he then presses a button. The motor putters to life, and he smiles.
“What are you going to use that for?”
“Use them for.” He lowers his voice. “They’re part of the big plan.”
“The big plan?”
“Don’t ask.” He smirks.
“Guess Pike will let us know soon?” I arch a brow.
“Soon.”
“Did you make those star weapons they used during my rescue?”
“Yeah…ninja stars. An old-school concept except, they trigger a knockout agent upon impact.”
“They were pretty lush. Gave us a head start.”
“Thanks! I’m always trying to think of weapons and gadgets to keep up with the government’s technology. Otherwise, we’ll get wiped out.”
Interesting point of view. Along the lines of “only the strong or the ones that adapt survive.”
“What’d you do before joining Pike?”
“I had a private therapy practice and worked full-time for a tech company.” He looks up for a second and then goes back to grinding one moving part into another. “For a while, I was a therapist by day and an inventor at night.”
I smile. “You taught yourself this stuff?”
“Been building stuff since I was five when my dad started letting me pull things apart.”
“Same with me.” I could sit here all day watching him tinker. That’s how I learned computer programming and other techie stuff. But my stomach has a mind of its own. It growls, and I excuse myself to walk to the kitchen, hoping to claim leftovers from one of the cooks.
The hallway’s florescent ceiling lights flicker under a bent and shredded plastic casing. Loud voices echo into the narrow hallway.
“You’ve looked at me as a flawed human being for a long time.” Mrs. Shelby. “I’ve made decisions I’m not proud of. I didn’t believe you, and I don’t know how many times I can apologize for that.”
I back against the wall. This seems like a private conversation, albeit one worth hearing. Paint chips fall to the ground. The wall’s peeling around me, tan flakes falling away. I laugh to myself. That’s what my world is now. Crumbling.
“I want to forget that life. We left that back in the slum unit,” Saya answers in a hollow, emotionless voice. “But I still want to know how come when Dad left, you checked out?”
“Your dad disappeared, probably taken.”
I lean toward the door to listen better. Pain scorches Saya’s voice. “You should’ve tried to find him ’stead of giving up.”
“I hardly gave up.”
“You used to go out with the crews to scavenge. You used to work with Pike on his computer stuff. Then you checked out.”
I place my hand on the wall. More paint chips fall to the scuffed linoleum floor. Wiping my hand on my pants, I refocus on the conversation.
“Things change,” Mrs. Shelby says quietly.
Saya snorts. “They do, and I told you not to talk to me until I’m ready. You let me down. If Dad was here, you—”
“I broke if off. It’s not what you think anymore.”
Broke what off? I almost say out loud. I cover my mouth.
“Not what I think? I basically caught you in the act!”
It’s cuckoo to imagine Mrs. Shelby as Saya’s mom. Saya does resemble the petite woman, both fierce and commanding despite their shorter heights, I would have never guessed they were related. Mrs. Shelby looks biracial while Saya doesn’t. But I’m not a professional at guessing people’s ethnicities.
“You were probably sleeping with Pike long before Dad disappeared!” Saya’s voice gets louder and shriller with each syllable, pinging off the steel appliances in the kitchen.
Mrs. Shelby and Pike? Yuck! I shake off the explicit image. Old people having sex is gross, like thinking about my parents doing it. I mean, I know they do. They’re human, but it’s still gross. I’d rather not go there.
One of them bursts into tears, and my heart sinks in my chest, hoping it isn’t Saya. No wonder she’s always so crabby and standoffish. It’s warranted now that I know her mother slept with Pike behind her dad’s back.
“I can’t talk to you about this again,” Saya says evenly, making me selfishly glad it’s her mother crying. I can’t stand it when any woman cries, like seeing a baby bird with a broken wing all helpless and—
Saya nearly smacks into my chest. She’s hugging the hallway wall with one hand, tracing her fingers on the peeling plaster and ripping it to shreds.
“Did you hear everything?” She drops her hand, surprised to see me too.
“Hear what?” I feign innocence.
“Never mind.” She storms away.
I run to catch up. “Wait! I’m glad I ran into you.”
Stopping midway in the narrow hallway, she folds her arms across her chest, eying me curiously.
“Pike says—”
“I don’t care what Pike says!”
“Calm down…geesh.” I raise my hands in the air. “Pike says I need to go see my dad and—”
“I don’t have to go. Pike’s not my father. He doesn’t tell me what to do.”
“I’m asking you to go with me. You know what it feels like to have a broken family. Shelby’s your mother you know—”
“So you did hear!” Her eyes teem with anger.
“I’m trying to tell you that—”
Turning, she rushes away.
“Wait!”
She doesn’t look back and is about to turn the corner to the main room when I say the only thing I can think of. “What are you so afraid of?”
She turns around slowly. “I’m not afraid of anything!”
I run to her and stare into her hazel eyes, trying to find the nerve to keep going. “Everyone’s afraid of something.”
She shakes her head.
“Please. I need answers.”
She stares at me for a long while, maybe debating whether to respond. Finally, “Why do you want me to go with you?”
How I reply could be the reason she goes with me or not. Yet I don’t have anything spectacular to say. I don’t have a good reason. Out of everyone here, I feel closest to her and Cricket. But that’s stupid to say. I bring Pike back into the conversation, hoping this will sway her decision.
“I don’t know why Pike chose you to go with me.” I let my eyes roam around the hall. Her gaze makes me feel things I don’t want to feel. My heart booms in my chest. My cheeks fill with heat,
the back of my neck burns, and I’m sweating. Even with my eyes unfocused, taking in the paint chips above her head and peering down the hall, she continues to stare.
Warmth invades my insides like hot tea. Feeling attracted to her in this kind of moment is wrong, but telling my heart to stop beating so fast or my skin to hold in heat won’t work. I’m not in control. She is. Like I said before, she’s the kind of girl that traps eyes, feelings, and thoughts, and never lets them go.
“Then get someone else,” she says, which bring my eyes back to her. She turns away again, and I touch her shoulder. Shrugging off my hand, she stares me down. Or stares me up, if I’m being technical.
“It had to be for a good reason.” I give her a pressing look that’s infinite with my longing for her. “Besides, if Pike hadn’t chosen you, I would have. You’re great under pressure, and keep your eyes on the prize. I need that type of focus to visit my parents. They didn’t save me from death. You did.” I finish integrating truth with flattery. Dad says that goes a long way with women. Hope he’s right this time.
Her face looks tortured with indecision for what seems like forever. Finally, two simple words escape. “I’ll go.” Then she walks away.
A minute later, Mrs. Shelby walks past, avoiding eye contact and in a hurry. How much of our conversation did she overhear?
I’m left standing in the middle of the stuffy, decaying hallway. Abandoned. Like my parents abandoned me. Seeing Mom and Dad again is going to be strange. I once had parents and a good life and no real worries, and now every worry in the world is sitting on my shoulders.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I train until Pike feels I’m ready. It keeps me focused on becoming a better fighter and tactical thinker. Acquiring skills I’ll need to defend myself and live on my own, if it ever comes down to that. I suck at everything they teach, but I’m keeping a good attitude about it. I push seeing Dad and Mom out of my mind. Right now, learning how to survive is of utmost importance.
Saya and I spend time outside, at the back of the building, where people tend not to gather. Here, we have privacy. She’s getting tired of me, knocking me to the ground with swift moves like she’s playing with a child or a digital game opponent she’s mastered.