by Tenaya MKD
“Careful, you might pull something, working that hard.”
He laughed, keeping his eyes closed. “Good morning to you too, sweetheart.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, and my eyes found my feet. “What do we have to do today?” I’d been doing it for days now, but it still felt unnatural to be cold to him.
He sighed. “Some planting and watering. Nothing big.”
“Good. You plant. I’ll water.” I stalked off without giving him a chance to respond.
When I finally finished watering every plant in the garden, I left without talking to Eric. It was just easier that way.
There was no way to avoid him during training. We became permanent sparring partners, like he’d hoped for. I insisted that we train separate from the rest of the group, to be safe. And he agreed to that. Generally, he brushed off all of my concerns though. He was as playful toward me as ever. It took genuine effort to keep him locked on the other side of my wall.
Especially since I did thoroughly enjoy being able to throw him around as easily as he could throw me. Kicking his ass was cathartic; and it was the only time I appreciated what my body could do. Under different circumstances, I would have loved being so strong. It made me feel capable and gave me a sense of control that I craved.
But as things were, my feelings were mixed at best. If I could have given up the power for actual control over my body and my life, I’d definitely have done it.
I was nearly back to my room when Zane came into the hall from the cafeteria. “Nova!” I didn’t slow down or acknowledge him, but he jogged to catch up to me. “I haven’t seen much of you lately. You doing okay?”
“I’m fine.”
He grabbed my wrist and pulled me to a stop. “You don’t seem fine.”
I yanked my arm back from his grasp. “I’m being responsible, Zane. If my next power is something volatile that I can’t control, the last thing I need is friends to blow up.”
He scoffed, “That’s ridiculous. You wouldn’t hurt me.”
“Not on purpose!” Taking a deep breath helped to soften my voice.
None of this is his fault.
“Just leave me alone, okay?” I turned away to continue on to my room.
“I’m still your friend, Nova. Nothing has changed.”
But I didn’t stop walking.
Everything has changed.
20
I stepped out of the shower stall, careful not to slip on the white-tiled floor, now made slick by steam. A perk of taking showers in the middle of the night was that there was no one to save hot water for. I blasted the water so that the combination of pressure and heat made my skin red. The locker-room was filled with a wet fog.
I swiped my hand across the steamy mirror. The pale eyes Sam had made for me rarely caught me off guard anymore, but they did tonight. Tonight, they were a glaring representation of how unnatural I was. How different I was from everyone around me. The dark circles that hung under them added nicely to the effect.
The facility’s repetitive routine was killing me. Wake up early. Train or work. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. I felt like a mouse on a wheel—always moving and never getting anywhere. Especially because I was still failing miserably at controlling my powers—no matter how firmly Quinn told me to “try harder.”
The routine had been comfortable when I’d had people to break it up. Without them, it was suffocating. A realization that only made me angry.
You don’t need people, Nova. What you need is your freedom. Get your shit together and leave this damn bunker!
Okay, Nova. I’m trying, damnit.
I was losing it.
I combed my fingers carefully through my hair. It was now long enough to cover the tops of my ears, and if I didn’t get it parted in the right place while it was wet, it would lay awkwardly the whole next day.
I’m going to have to learn to cut my hair. I sighed. That should go well.
Going down the hall, I carefully placed my feet to keep my steps from making noise. Living at the facility was a lesson in stealth. Even if I wasn’t sneaking around in the middle of the night, I still tended to try to tread lightly, to avoid my steps echoing off the walls.
As I passed the cafeteria, I heard a crash come from inside. Like pans falling. I opened the door and poked my head into the darkened room. Only the kitchen in the back was lit up. Another crash of metal hit the cement floor.
“Hello? You okay?” I called.
No answer.
I approached the kitchen door tentatively. I could hear pots and pans knocking against each other. Part of me wanted to turn around and forget I’d heard anything. But if someone was trapped under a pile of heavy cookware and I’d ignored them, I would feel guilty. The last thing I needed was more guilt.
“Do you need help?” I asked a little louder.
I pushed open the swinging door and stepped into the kitchen for the first time. Being tucked in the back of the already-large cafeteria, I hadn’t expected there to be much room for it. It was a huge kitchen though. Industrial-sized, stainless-steel appliances and counters skirted the walls, surrounding a steel-topped island.
I followed the clanging sounds to the back corner of the room. A small, slight-framed woman was ducked into a bottom cupboard with her back to me.
“Did you need help?” I asked again.
“Oh!” she gasped, bumping her head on the top of the cupboard. She quickly turned to face me, with one hand over her heart and the other on her halo of graying, permed curls. “My goodness, dear. You scared me half to death.”
“I’m sorry. I just heard crashing sounds, and I thought you might need help.”
“Clumsy me, dropped a few things looking for my biggest baking sheet. I’m just fine though. That’s sweet of you to check.” She pushed her purple glasses farther up her long nose. The silver chain they hung on framed her thin, lined face.
I told myself to leave then; that meeting another person made no sense now. But this must be Mrs. Fay. And I had to thank her for her cooking, didn’t I?
“Your stuffed squash is absolutely amazing.”
“Thank you! It’s a doozy to make for so many people, but it’s a fun recipe.”
“Do you do all the cooking by yourself?”
“I do. Wade shows up to help sometimes, but he’s not always much of a help, if I’m honest.” She laughed. It almost didn’t sound real, it was such a stereotypical laughing sound, but the way it lit up her face said that it was genuine.
“Who is Wade?”
“Oops! Chief Markham,” she corrected. “Don’t tell him I called him by his first name. He hates when I do that.” She turned back to the cupboard. “Ah ha!” she exclaimed, pulling out a baking sheet the size of a small table. She set it on the countertop next to her big, red-and-white mixing bowl.
“What are you doing in the kitchen this late?”
“I couldn’t sleep and decided to make some cookies. What are you doing up so late?”
“I couldn’t sleep and decided to take a shower.”
“I see. Well, would you care for a cookie?”
You should leave. Go to bed. Don’t engage.
“What kind are you making?”
“Peanut butter. The best kind there is.”
“That sounds great,” I said, without hesitation.
“Alright. You sit there,” she pointed to a stool at the edge of the island. “I’ll let you lick the spoon.”
When I took my first bite into the warm, soft cookie, I felt myself crumble with it. Maybe that seems dramatic, but I literally felt tension I had been holding in my shoulders fall apart.
If I had later found out that Mrs. Fay was a figment of my imagination, I’d have hardly been surprised. No one could bake this well.
“These are amazing, Mrs. Fay!”
She pulled up a second stool and sat beside me at the counter. “Call me Bunny. And thank you, dear. My granddaughter always thought so too.”
I almost asked about her
granddaughter, but I’d learned by now that no one here has a past that’s easy to talk about. Maybe her granddaughter was living happily ever after on a beach in Hawaii, but I didn’t feel like taking the chance.
“How have I been here well over a month and I’m only just meeting you now?”
“I tend to stick to the kitchen. There is always something that needs doing in here. Or, I hide away in the garden.” She leaned in, as if to tell me a secret. “That’s where I read my romances.” She smiled. “I enjoy solitude at this stage in my life.”
“I’m sorry I interrupted you tonight.”
“Oh no, dear. Don’t feel that way.” She patted my knee softly. “This has been nice. It’s been too long since I had someone to lick the spoon.” The lines on her face turned noticeably downward.
Her granddaughter is definitely not in Hawaii...
In the blink of an eye, her demeanor lifted again. “So, a little birdy told me that you’re a special young lady.”
I nearly choked on the cookie I was chewing. “I suppose that depends on who you ask. I wouldn’t say that.”
“What would you say?”
I thought about it for a moment. “I’d say I’m a safety hazard.”
“Is that why you’re pushing everyone away?”
“How do you know that’s what I’m doing?” I asked, defensively.
“I see everything from this kitchen. It’s a mother’s job to know.”
“So, you see yourself as the mother here?”
She smiled. “More like the grandmother, I suppose.”
I considered, for a moment, how to answer her question. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t want to be used by anyone. And I don’t want to be hurt when I leave everything here behind.”
“I see. Those concerns are understandable. But is pushing people away like you are, just hurting you now, instead of later?”
“Even if that’s true, I’d rather not be around anyone when I suddenly explode or something. Everyone is scared of me anyway.”
“Are they? I haven’t seen that, dear.” She took a bite of her cookie. “I have to wonder if they are really scared of you, or if you’re just scared of yourself?”
I scoffed. “People look at me like I’m a ticking time bomb.”
“I think people look at you like you’re something unexplainable. You’re different. But none of them would shun you for being odd. Until they came here, they were all odd.”
I grabbed another cookie and took a large bite, chewing slowly while I considered her point. “So, you’re saying I shouldn’t be taking showers at midnight to avoid people?”
She laughed. “You’re strong and independent; both are very admirable traits. But it’s okay to let your guard down. In fact, there are moments in life when it’s the best thing you can do. Even the strongest of us need people, Nova.”
My eyes moved away from her and down to my cookie. Fidgeting fingers were now breaking small pieces off, piling crumbs onto the counter.
“Needing people makes me feel weak.” My voice was small; barely loud enough to hear.
Bunny placed her hand softly on mine, snapping me back into myself. I wiped the crumbs from my fingers and brought the cookie to my mouth, politely escaping her touch. “What if I am dangerous? What if the next power I develop is something volatile and I can’t control it?”
“What if it isn’t? Don’t live in fear of what-ifs, dear. Life is too short.” She smiled at me sweetly. “I know for a fact that Cayde would rather you let him help, than have you push him away for his safety.”
“Are you and Cayde close?”
“I’ve watched him grow up. I was one of the first people to come to the facility. It’s a good thing I was, too. Before I got here, they were living on microwaveables.” We both scrunched our faces in disgust. “Cayde is sensitive, Nova. His abilities make it hard not to be. Let him help you. He’s been so worried.”
“He’s talked to you about me?”
“Of course, he has,” she said. Like it should have been obvious to me that he would.
“Why do you say it that way?”
“Isn’t it clear that he cares for you, dear?”
Cayde had been good to me. He’d never let me go a day without coffee, first thing. He’d been patient with me when I was moody, especially in these last couple weeks. He’d done everything possible to ensure my moving in here was comfortable. Even for a nice guy, he’d gone above and beyond.
I pushed the hair that hung just over my ear, behind it. “I suppose.”
She smirked. “If you only let one person in, make it him. You won’t regret it.”
“I’ll think about it… He’s got some competition for that spot though. These cookies make me want to trust you with my life. Is baking your superpower?”
She chuckled. “Oh goodness, no. I don’t use my ability much anymore. It’s tough on the joints.”
“Do you mind if I ask what it is?”
“I’m fast. Very, very fast.” She winked.
“Ooh, that’s a good one!”
“I’ve got some marvelous stories, if I do say so myself.”
“I would love to hear them.”
“Be careful saying that to an old woman; I’ll talk your ear off.”
“My ears are ready!”
She chuckled. “Another night and another tray of cookies.”
I smiled wider than I had in weeks. “I’m in.”
Meeting Bunny that night was probably the best thing that could have happened. The ball of guilt, frustration, and anger that I’d been carrying in my chest for two weeks felt looser. It was all still in there; but she had shifted the perspective I’d been clinging to.
I would not be letting my guard down around many people. Certainly not Sam, or Wade. I would not hurt anyone. And I would not be used. But maybe there were a couple people who had earned some trust from me, and maybe I deserved to trust them.
I can hate it all I want, but I do need people.
21
The next morning, I got myself up earlier than usual. I walked into the cafeteria just as Bunny was setting out the big, steel coffee urn.
“Did you get any sleep?” I asked.
“A little. I’ll probably fall asleep with my nose in a book this afternoon.” She adjusted one of the many white ceramic mugs stored upside down on a tray next to the urn. “I’ve never seen you up this early before.”
“I’ve never been up this early before.” I stifled a yawn. “I wanted to do something nice for a friend.”
Her eyebrows raised as she smiled widely. “I am very happy to hear that, Nova.”
I waved off her praise, “We’ll see how it goes. I don’t think I’m very good at this sort of thing.”
She laughed. “Lucky for you, that hardly matters.”
I didn’t get to ask what she meant before she headed off to tend to the rest of breakfast.
I filled two mugs and slowly made my way to Cayde’s room. Already, I’d made a mistake. Cayde never brought his own cup when he brought me coffee. He was always able to knock when he got to my door. I fumbled around, trying to hold both cups in one hand, only to splash the hot coffee on my shoe.
Damnit.
In frustration, I settled for kicking the door. I ended up kicking it hard enough to leave a small dent. And probably scare the shit out of Cayde, as well as the people in the rooms next to his.
Great start, Nova.
He opened the door like he’d rushed to it, wearing nothing but his crystal pendant and orange boxer-briefs. His hair was tangled, sticking out at odd angles. It seemed to have gotten long all at once. It had always been shaggy, but the back nearly touched his shoulders now. There was a slight wave at the ends that I hadn’t noticed before.
Even half asleep, his fall eyes were bright. They sucked me in, for reasons definitely unrelated to his powers this time.
“What the hell was that?” he asked.
“I knocked. Here.” I held out the mug with t
he most coffee left in it. “Good morning.”
He looked taken aback, but he grinned as he took his cup. “Good morning.” He took a sip. “You okay?”
“Yeah? Can’t I bring you coffee once in a while?”
His eyes narrowed on me, still unsure. “Of course, you can. Thanks!” He made a small cheers-ing motion, bringing his mug toward mine. “Would you like to come in while I put myself together?”
I nodded, and he stood aside for me to enter. He turned up the lights as he shut the door behind me.
I’d never been in Cayde’s room before. It was the same dimensions as mine, the same layout, but it was a completely different space. He’d stacked a small, wooden bookshelf on top of his dresser and filled it with books, organized by size. He’d also managed to squeeze a gray-cushioned chair into the corner. The three colorful landscape paintings he’d hung around his bed brought the outside into the otherwise-pale space. My room was mostly neat, just because I had nothing in it. His room was tidy because he was a neat person who kept it that way.
He set his mug down on the bookshelf, and, before even getting dressed, made his bed. When he leaned over to tuck the sheet under his mattress, his orange-garbed ass pointed in my direction.
A perfect peach.
I laughed at myself before I could stop it.
“What?” he asked, looking back at me from over his shoulder as he tucked the last corner.
Heat rushed into my cheeks. “It’s just that, I haven’t made my bed once, the entire time I’ve lived here.”
When the bed was pristine, he faced me with a knowing smirk. He played along though. “How do you sleep in a disheveled bed?”
“I tend to just kick blankets off anyway.”
He laughed. “You must be a joy to sleep with!”
“Oh, I am!”
Probably.
I didn’t actually have any memories of sleeping next to someone… but I pushed that thought away. My eyes shifted toward his bed as I started to imagine what it might be like to share it with him. I took a large gulp of coffee and forced my eyes onto his bookshelf.