by Alyssa Cole
When I looked up at her, her head was turned shyly.
“It’s just a hobby,” she said.
“Are you kidding me? You’re crazy talented!” I’d known she could make cute little doodles, but this... My fingers itched to turn the pages and see what else was there, but that would be the same as going through someone’s journal. I looked up at her, eyes imploring.
She sat down on the bed next to me and flipped a page without speaking, as if she was holding her breath.
All of my fears and anxieties about what was happening outside and Edwin’s whereabouts faded to the background as I was pulled into Danielle’s interior world. Many of the newer portraits were caricatures or comic scenes with people from around campus. My boss Joe with a hunting dog chasing after his two missing fingers, which, blessed with appendages of their own, ran from him. Melba, one of her co-workers at the library, transforming from waifish woman into a muscled shield-maiden as she ate the pages of a giant tome labeled Viking Warriors.
As we flipped further back, the images grew darker and more tense. Shadows looming over kittens that spilled out of a sack, abandoned. A balding man tugging at the collar of his shirt, his expression angry and his gaze searing off the page and into the viewer. Although the images were just as arresting, they seemed to be drawn more hurriedly, with less deliberation—except for one. This was a two-page piece. A man and woman sat surrounded by control panels that looked so real I almost ran my fingers over the page to press a button. Their gazes were fixed ahead and down, as if I was seeing them hard at work, but their arms reached across the page to grasp each other’s hands. Their fingers, perfectly drawn, threaded through each other’s so that their palms pressed together. Even though their features were changed to accommodate Danielle’s drawing style, I could see the resemblance.
“Your parents?” I’m the child of engineers, she’d said earlier.
She nodded and closed the sketchbook.
“They must have been so proud of your ability,” I said. I lay back on the bed, still in awe of the drawing she’d done of me. A rush of emotion surprised me, as did the lump that stealthily roughened my throat. It was silly, but I knew when I wrote a song about someone it was only because I felt very strongly about them, and there had been nothing dismissive or mocking in her work. It was nice to be important to someone who’d only known this version of me—not the girl with good grades or archery medals, but the woman that girl had become. I didn’t need self-validation—I thought I was pretty awesome—but I needed friends and now I had one.
“My parents were very supportive. Other people weren’t.” She hit the switch on her desk lamp and curled up onto the bed next to me. “I think whatever Greg gave me is kicking in again.” Her voice didn’t sound sleepy at all; she sounded suddenly tired in a different way, though.
“Do you want me to leave?”
“No. If you’re here, I can be sure Devon isn’t in your room with you trying to talk you into forgiving him.”
I was grateful she’d slept through my encounter with Edwin, for obvious reasons, but that meant I had a lot of explaining to do. “Oh, let me fill you in before we go to bed.”
Talking about what had happened with Edwin was easier than lying awake thinking of the bad situations he could be getting himself into. I didn’t remember when I fell asleep. Sometime after Danielle had berated me for hooking up while she was in the room, even though I’d tried to avoid mention of it. “It’s a college rite of passage,” I’d said in my defense as she hit me with a pillow.
I awoke to sunlight pouring into the room and birds chirping outside the room. No, inside the room. My phone was ringing.
“Answer your phone, harlot.” John’s voice echoed in the hallway outside the door, and then my message alert beeped. Beside me, Danielle was still sleeping deeply, and I managed to ease out of bed and slip through the door without waking her. There I found John, looking dapper and businesslike in a tailored suit with his long hair pulled into a sleek bun. Mykhail was clad more casually in jeans, a nice wool sweater, and his usual floppy blond hair.
Mykhail was busying himself leaving a note on my message board. “You know texting exists, don’t you?” John said as his fingers flew over his phone’s keypad. He turned toward the noise of Danielle’s door opening and smiled when he saw me. His eyes widened slightly as he took in the scene behind me. “Slumber party or sexual awakening?” he asked as he pulled me in for a kiss.
I turned and scribbled a quick message on her board so she’d know where I went. “Danielle is very cute, but we’re just friends. Have you heard from Edwin? Do you know if he’s okay?”
John and Mykhail shared a look, communicating in their weird staring/eyebrow wiggling language I swore was some form of telepathy. Mykhail cleared his throat and pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Funnily enough, that’s the first thing he asked us about you. Hernandez is fine. He’ll be joining us for breakfast. Unless that would be awkward?”
Ah. John was letting Mykhail do his dirty work.
“Why would that be awkward? We always have breakfast together,” I said. And last night I was humping his thigh like a dog in heat. What of it? I waited two beats to push past them and unlock my room door so I could change into something less skeevy. “Give me a minute,” I tossed over my shoulder. After running to the bathroom for a speed shower and tooth brushing, I scrambled around my room, searching for something clean to wear. When I stepped out of the room in a green wool dress over black tights, hair coiffed and a fresh face of makeup, John gave me a knowing smile.
“What?” I growled.
“You look like an adult,” he said and sighed. Mykhail took his hand, as if giving him support.
“I’ve been an adult. Boobs, menstruation, legal voting age—remember those fun milestones?”
“I know. But sometimes it hits home that you’re not a little kid who’s safely tucked away with Mom and Dad. I’m glad you’re getting to live your life. Trust me, it’s something I’ve been worried about for the last few years. It’s just, after last night I kind of wish we had listened when you first refused to come here.”
I took John’s other hand as we exited the building. I was an adult, but adults needed their big brothers too. “What’s going on? Is there some kind of danger here? Do we have to leave?”
A sudden dread filled me at the thought of losing meals with Edwin and Danielle and banter with my work friends. I’d even miss Professor Grafton and her colorful hair, which was now lime green. Not seeing Devon ever again would be convenient, but not worth losing the life I’d just started to live.
Mykhail leaned past John so I could see him more clearly. “No. Not yet, at least. But anti-government and anti-progress groups are starting to get way more active. If this isn’t checked now, we could have an even worse situation than immediately after the Flare.”
“How could anything be worse than that?” I’d been safe, but I’d learned so much about the madness that had taken place in the aftermath of the loss of a functioning society. Mykhail wasn’t prone to hyperbole, so his words struck an icy chord of fear in me.
John took over. “An organized collective of disgruntled groups is way more dangerous than random gangs trying to survive. Assholes being assholes because they can is one thing. Assholes waging a campaign against the government could fuck shit up.” His voice was laconic and overly flip in a way that meant he was really worried.
I showed my ID at the dining hall and signed in my two guests. Mykhail pretended to be delighted at my mastery of the waffle maker, and John pretended that the coffee didn’t taste like swill, but they couldn’t hide their interest when a freshly showered Edwin sauntered in and took the seat next to me. There was a sudden tension in the air, that subtle shift in the world that occurred when you became the center of people’s attention. I’d felt the same thing the night before on the stage.
“Hey,” Edwin said to me. He grinned.
“Hi,” I replied around the forkful of waffle I’d shoved in my mouth. I realized my shoulders were hunched, as if I were swinging my long-gone curtain of hair in front of my face. I leaned back and tried to look casual.
John’s coffee mug hit the table with a loud ceramic thud. “Oh God. You guys totally got it on. Although a Korea-Rican baby would be super adorable, please tell me you used protection.”
“John,” Mykhail warned.
My brother arched a brow and took a small sip of coffee, looking so much like my mom it was as if she’d temporarily possessed him. “What?” he asked innocently. “We’re all family, right? Do you think it would be better for me to talk behind her back?” Yes, he was definitely channeling his inner Mama Seong.
“What we have or haven’t done is none of your business, okay?” I looked at Edwin, but he just shrugged and reached over my plate for the pepper.
John shut his eyes in relief and reached for Mykhail’s arm. “Oh good. They haven’t consummated yet.”
“John!” My cheeks were blazing.
Still he pushed on. “Edwin, I have to say when I asked you to take my sister in hand, this was not exactly what I had in mind.”
Edwin laughed but had apparently had enough of the focus on our relationship. “Considering I was there for the afterglow of one of your first hookups, you can’t say anything that would embarrass me, man. Have you spoken to Dr. Simmons recently, Mykhail?” He bit into a piece of toast with a triumphant smile.
John pulled his hand away from Mykhail frostily and crossed his arms over his chest.
Mykhail threw his hands up toward the heavens. “I was on your side, Hernandez! Now I’m going to get the silent treatment for two days because you brought up you-know-who.”
“All’s fair in prying older brothers,” Edwin said. “Besides, the silent treatment from John isn’t a punishment. It’s a vacation.”
I was seriously annoyed—why was he laughing and joking around? Then I remembered that he no longer had an older brother to harass him about his love life. This was a special treat for him. I glared down into my scrambled eggs and tried not to let my embarrassment push me into doing something stupid, as it often did.
The sound of burbles and squees drifted into the dining hall, distracting me.
“Oh, speaking of cute babies. Bina! Altaf! We’re over here.” John waved his napkin in the air. Edwin went stiff next to me and when I looked at his face there was a slight panicked edge to his expression, as if he was considering getting up and running away.
I glanced behind me and saw a beautiful dark-skinned woman approaching, clad in jeans and a dark wool coat. A green-eyed man with olive skin held her hand and made silly faces at the baby strapped to her front with a long black cloth. Bina and Altaf, John’s co-workers at Burnell whom I’d met briefly during one of my trips. They were responsible for the new telecommunications systems that were being tested across the country.
“Nice to see you again,” I said with a cordial nod in their direction. That wasn’t entirely true—if they were here with John, it meant something major was happening.
Even before meeting them, I’d heard all about them, and not just from John’s “can you believe my co-workers” stories. Bina had become legend in my family as the woman who’d saved Mykhail. She was also a telecommunications genius. And judging from the way Edwin looked at her, there was one more thing she was: the woman who’d made him so sad. The one he hadn’t protected. I didn’t need a telepathic language to understand that.
Chapter Twenty-One
They held each other’s gazes for a long time. The smile she gave him was reserved but kind, and the way he returned it made me feel like I was eavesdropping on them. Maybe I should have been jealous, but the regret in Edwin’s eyes canceled that out. I couldn’t imagine what it was like to see someone you had disappointed in such a way. I’d been rude to Edwin for years because he’d made me feel like a silly child. What had happened between him and Bina wasn’t even in the same stratosphere. I wanted to hold his hand, not to stake my claim but because he looked like he could use the comfort. I didn’t, though.
He stood, and she kissed him on both cheeks. Even her greetings were leagues classier than anything I could pull off. She gave me a friendly smile. “Nice to meet you again, Maggie. I hardly recognize you now—has so much time passed since we met? John speaks of you so often, and Arden and Gabriel did, as well. How are you adjusting to life at school?”
In my imagination, I leaned my chair back on two legs and told her that everything was awesome. But when I opened my mouth, the truth came out. “It can be hard sometimes, but it’s good. I thought I wanted to stay at home, but I’m glad I let John talk me into coming. I feel like I’m living the life I was supposed to. Making up for what the Flare stole away.”
Bina smiled and nodded. Now that she was closer, I could see there was something sad about her smile that made it even more beautiful, like she was smiling in spite of instead of just because. Something about her reminded me of Danielle in a weird way. “I remember when I first came to the United States for school. I tried to be very brave and decided I didn’t need anyone for anything. I thought I’d already experienced all there was to know of life, and that no silly American could teach me anything. But the very first day, I couldn’t get the key card on my door to work.” She laughed. “It wasn’t because this technology doesn’t exist in my country, but because for some reason I can never remove the card fast enough. So I tried for a full hour. Finally, another student came over to help me and I let her. And so on my first day here I learned that I could be outsmarted by a piece of plastic and that I should choose my allies wisely.”
A rumble of laughter passed through our group, and even the baby burbled, as if she agreed with her mother’s assessment.
I glanced at Edwin. “I think that’s the game plan I’m working with, minus the superior plastic.”
“Is this Joanna?” Edwin’s rough voice cut into the conversation. He had been sneaking glances at the baby while we spoke. He stuck a finger of his large hand out toward the little bundle, and a tiny tan hand reached up and clutched his finger. His eyes widened and he looked from Bina to me with a goofy grin on his face. “She’s strong!”
Bina chuckled and gave the baby’s dark curls a caress. “Yes, this is my miracle baby. She has to be strong.”
“Did you have a rough delivery?” I asked and then wondered if the question was improper.
“No. But this world is designed to crush her. Us.” She looked at me in a way that let me know I was included in her statement. “I didn’t want to bring a baby, especially a daughter, into this world. But then I realized that the work I do every day, that all of us do, is to ensure there’s a future. She’s my second chance at life in a way, even though that sounds selfish. But we all deserve second chances. Our pasts cannot haunt us forever.” This time her look was directed at Edwin.
He chewed the inside of his cheek and nodded, as if slowly absorbing her words. He turned his attentions to Joanna again, making silly faces to entertain her. She was cute, but I knew part of her current appeal to him was that she couldn’t talk and thus he wouldn’t have to either.
“Hopefully our work won’t be in vain,” Altaf said. “These neo-Luddites have been a huge pain in the ass. The crazy thing is that they use technology themselves to stop technology! Social media websites for organizing and recruiting, signal jammers and the like. A pack of hypocrites, pretending to be saviors and using their influence for no good. That’s one thing that hasn’t changed about the world.” His gaze narrowed when it landed on Edwin. Bina might have been willing to let go of the past, but Edwin was still one of the soldiers who’d detained them, who’d let unspeakable things be done to them.
I didn’t protect her.
/> How did you move forward from that?
Perhaps Bina knew Edwin punished himself. It could never be enough, but we had to start somewhere with our second chances. Then again, sometimes you gave someone a second chance, and they turned out like Devon.
As if my thoughts summoned him, he straggled through the dining hall behind a few of the guys from the eco club, one of whom might have thrown a bottle at me the night before. His eyes were focused on his tray, and I deviously hoped someone had dropped a dollop of the slippery okra I’d had to search through in the compost room last week in his path. Where had he been the night before when Greg had threatened me? It occurred to me then, like a punch to the gut, that I’d never thought Devon might help me yesterday. I’d never thought of going back to the basement to search for him, or expected him to give me any assistance if he came outside.
John followed the path of my gaze. “Who’s he?”
Mykhail answered for me. “Probably the ex she emailed Arden about.”
“Arden told you guys?” I would throttle her.
“No,” Mykhail corrected. “She told Gabriel because she can’t keep anything from him. Then he got all worked up and called us. She threatened us all with a thrashing if we bothered you about it.” He shrugged. “But he seems to be out of the picture, so that’s water under the bridge.”
It was true. When I looked at Devon, I didn’t feel any lingering desire. But the part of me that considered him a friend, that part of me felt like it had just been put into a trash compactor. We’d had fun over the past few weeks. And now there would be no more, because his desires had overridden our friendship. Because his lies had been more important than me—and they always had been.
He sat at a table with his back to me, and it felt like a rebuke. An unfair one.