“I’m not sure. I did some checking too, but dream dictionaries are pretty limited. If I had to guess, I’m feeling panicked about choosing a college.”
It was as good an explanation as any, especially when the truth wouldn’t work. Now I wished I hadn’t encouraged her friendship at the SSP, but at the time, I hadn’t realized how dangerous a deal I’d made; back then, I didn’t understand that players had no qualms about attacking people who knew nothing about it.
“Sounds reasonable.”
“You should visit me soon, I miss you. I mean, if you can. If you have time.” She seemed uncomfortable, as if it had belatedly occurred to her I might not want to leave my glamorous life in Boston to spend time in Ohio.
“I’d love to,” I said.
As soon as it’s safe. But I feared that day might be a long time coming.
ANOTHER SATURDAY NIGHT & I SAW A MONSTER
By Saturday at six thirty, I’d completed all of my homework, dutifully proven this to my parents, who seemed to think a daughter who wanted to date might also lie about finishing assignments. And now I was listening to my father give the world’s most awkward lecture on how boys were animals and I should not, under any circumstances, trust a person with a penis. I tried to look appropriately impressed by the wisdom he was dropping on me, but it was tough.
“They may act as if they care for you. Respect you, even…” My dad trailed off, looking at my mother as if for deliverance.
“Be safe,” she said.
“I had the sex class at school.” There was possibly nothing worse I could’ve said.
It wound my father up, so he stammered about love and consideration until my mom finally cut him off in pity. “We trust you,” she concluded, though everything my dad had just said offered evidence to the contrary.
“Thanks. I’ll be home by midnight.”
Half an hour later, Kian knocked. It was probably unwise to consider this a date, despite what I’d told my parents, so I’d dressed in jeans, boots, and a jacket, in case of trouble. With Kian, I didn’t spend hours on my hair and makeup. It seemed superfluous since he’d known me before, and he’d created this version of me. It wasn’t like I could startle him with my beauty.
He was good with my parents, offering a firm handshake to my dad and a smile for my mom. I could tell she was surprised and dazzled—to the point that she almost forgot to ask about his work status and his collegiate enrollment. But he covered smoothly, telling her he worked part-time at a company downtown and he also attended university. The exchange went quicker than I’d have guessed, given it was the first time all around. Soon I dodged out the door with Kian close behind.
“That wasn’t so bad,” he said as we stepped out of the brownstone.
“You thought my dad would tell you he has a shovel and a handgun?”
“Something like that.” He shifted, seeming unaccountably nervous. “I’ve just … I never picked a girl up like that before.”
With a face like this, how was that possible? “You don’t date?”
Kian sighed. “Work makes it … difficult.”
“Oh, right. There’s no good way to tell your girlfriend that you’re up to your neck in a dangerous game. What does the winner get, anyway? Lifetime supply of car wax? Rule the world for all eternity?”
“More of the latter,” he said somberly. “But to be honest, I don’t think that’s entirely it.”
“Wow, so there’s more? High stakes. But how do they know if they win?” I followed him to the car and got in when he opened the door.
“I don’t have all the answers, Edie. At this point, you’re more important than I am.”
“Then I need to find a way to parlay that value into information. Where’re we going?”
“There’s something you need to see, and this is the best time.”
“So this isn’t a date.” Part of me was glad I’d dressed for trouble, but a tiny corner felt … disappointed.
“Did you want it to be?” Kian started the car and drove toward downtown.
I don’t know why I said it; possibly my mouth detached from my brain. “Yes.”
His hands actually jerked on the wheel, running us toward the curb, and he corrected course quickly, before daring to sneak a look at me. I wondered what he saw in the streaky darkness, illuminated only by passing streetlamps and the occasional flicker of fluorescent from an open store. For my part, I was watching him in turn, trying to figure out what he looked like before. Was he thin or heavy; what flaws had been smoothed away?
“Are you screwing with me?” he asked finally.
“What? No!” I was honestly offended. God, this is so backward. Isn’t he supposed to be able to tell when a girl’s into him? “You remember I asked you to kiss me, right? Maybe it wasn’t anything to you, but that was kind of a big deal for me.”
After I said it, I wondered what Wedderburn would make of this. Kian was supposed to be making me fall for him, and this was the kind of thing I’d say if his efforts were paying off. So maybe it didn’t matter that his boss might be listening to how we really felt. Well, how I did, anyway. The constant tension and uncertainty was excruciating.
He didn’t say anything straight off but at the first opportunity, he pulled into a convenience store parking lot. After he stopped the car, his knuckles whitened on the steering wheel, but not before I saw that he was shaking. Okay, what the hell. Kian didn’t look at me, his gaze fixed straight ahead. A liquor store next door had a broken neon sign, so it flashed red across his skin in stutters and skips.
“After my life imploded,” he said softly, “I tried not to feel anything because it only seemed to get worse, until … well, you know where I hit bottom. And when. Working for Wedderburn is like … limbo. I have a life, but it doesn’t belong to me. And … I don’t have a great track record.”
First crush equals dead girl, check. That should’ve given me pause, but I didn’t think he had anything to do with that. Maybe there was a hidden monkey’s paw after all, or like he’d said, she was a victim of the opposition. Her death got him demoted from catalyst to indentured drone, so it wouldn’t make sense for him to get her killed on purpose.
Unless he didn’t know his fate was tied to hers until it was too late …
“I don’t have any track record,” I answered. “Unless you count that kiss.”
He shifted so I couldn’t see his eyes. “There was that summer guy, Ryu. Do you still talk to him?”
Are you jealous? But it seemed cruel to ask. “Yeah, now and then.”
Should I reassure him? Hard to know when I had no idea what was happening between us or if I should even want the things I did from him.
Roughly, he whispered, “Our kiss meant something to me, too. But I thought once you knew I could’ve helped you before you hit extremis, it would change things.”
“I’m not pissed, if that’s what you mean. I was shocked. It’s horrible, knowing you saw everything firsthand. But … if it doesn’t make you think less of me—”
“Why would it? It’s all on them, not you.” But I could hear the doubt in his voice.
“Then what’s wrong?”
“I am afraid.” Those three measured words sounded dredged from the bottom of his soul, limned in shadow and salt.
“Of what?”
“Having you. Losing you.”
“I don’t understand.”
I wanted to touch him, and for the first time, I felt bold enough. Reaching over, I brushed the hair out of his face, and he turned instinctively, nestling his cheek into my palm. The heat of his skin felt incredible, as if a small star burned at his heart. I traced downward, conscious that it wasn’t his true face I was touching. On the surface, he was heartbreakingly beautiful, but that wasn’t the core of him. Instead, he was a bundle of fears and scars, and I was so afraid I could love those imperfections.