Ignoring him, I stride over to the next station, archery, and pick up the bow. It’s brand new and practically sparkling. The arrow is like a violin bow as I move it along the catgut string. Although the target is at least two hundred feet away, I pull it toward me with my eyes, until it’s just in front of me, the bull’s eye like a throbbing red beacon. I make small movements, just like I’ve been taught, until I’m certain my aim is true.
Twang!
The bow sings and my arrow cuts sharply through the murky air, embedding itself in the dead center of the target.
“Another perfect shot—four for four,” Brody says, resuming his clap. “You’re doing well, Rose.”
“I completely missed the gun target,” I say, frowning.
“It was one shot,” Brody says, flashing a smile. “You’ll get better. I can teach you.”
“Really?” I say, lowering my voice so no one will hear our conversation. I don’t want to be accused of getting special treatment because of my mom, but I do want to learn how to shoot. I don’t know where it comes from—my drive. For some reason, ever since I was little, I’ve had to be the best at anything I try. Nothing less is acceptable. Anything less is failure.
I don’t want to shoot a gun, but if I have to, I will be the best at it.
“Sure. A lot of the soldiers get additional help on the side at the things they’re not natural at.” I make a face, and Brody says hurriedly, “Not that you’re not a natural—I mean, given your proficiency at archery you might be just as good with a gun once you get the hang of it.”
I crack a smile, finally releasing some of the tension I’ve felt all day. “I was just giving you a hard time,” I say, and Brody grins, pushing his dark hair away from his eyes. For the first time I notice just how good looking he is. Perhaps it’s because I’ve let my guard down, if only for a moment. The blue and green in his eyes seem to swirl around, sometimes mixing, sometimes separated. With his smile, a dimple forms in one of his cheeks and his strong cheekbones rise high on his face. His longish, wavy hair suits his face perfectly. Between his looks and his personality, he’s the type of guy I’d like to have as an older brother.
I realize I’ve gone into a daze thinking about Brody as a brother and he’s looking at me funny.
“What?” he asks.
“Nothing. What’s next?”
“That’s it,” he says cheerfully. “No mandatory training until tomorrow. Meet me here tomorrow morning at oh-six-hundred hours for personal gun training.” The way he emphasizes the word personal sounds odd. And then I realize: he’s flirting with me.
Without a word, I spin and walk away, hoping it didn’t come off as too rude, but hoping I’m sending some pretty strong signals Brody’s way. I’m not interested.
As I meet up with Tawni, I try to push all thoughts of Brody out of my head.
“You were amazing!” she says as I walk up.
“Yeah, but only at the things I’ve done before,” I point out.
“You’ll improve with those nasty guns,” Tawni says in a way that makes me smile.
“Don’t count on it,” Trevor says. “You can’t be perfect at everything.”
“What is your problem?” I say, letting my anger get the best of me. I know he’s not worth the effort, but I just can’t seem to push down the heat when I’m around him.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” he says snidely.
“You two bicker like you’re brother and sister,” Tawni says, shaking her head disapprovingly.
“We do not!” we say simultaneously. The laugh comes before I can stifle it, and I realize Trevor’s cracking up, too. It’s a weird moment, but I see a burst of humanity in him, like he’s not such a bad guy.
In an instant, his sneer wipes out the laugh with the speed of a cave-in. “For your information,” he says, “I don’t trust you.”
“But my mom’s a general,” I say, hating to use my mom like that, but feeling the need to point out where my loyalties lie.
“That means nothing,” he says. “There are rumors that you and Tristan Nailin were seen together in the Moon Realm. I don’t trust him, so I don’t trust you.” I don’t want to talk about me and Tristan, and I know it’s not worth arguing, so I don’t.
“It’s not like I trust you either.” There’s just something strange about Trevor, and I can’t put my finger on it. It’s like he doesn’t belong in this place. If anyone might be a traitor, it’s him. “Why are you always hanging around us, anyway?” I ask, my voice sounding as rough as the cavern roof above us.
“The General’s orders,” he replies simply.
“Which general?”
“General Rose.” What? Really? Why would my mom give us a babysitter, especially one like Trevor?
I huff, but don’t respond. I’ll speak to my mom about getting a new escort the next time I see her.
As we head toward the office building, a soldier comes around the corner, wheeling a cart. It’s full of weapons, black and silver and new and shiny. Guns mostly, but bows and slingshots, too. My mind races back to the first time I touched the gun during target practice. I don’t know much about guns, but it looked like a nice weapon. The star dweller army seems extremely well-equipped. First the bombs used during the attacks on the Moon Realm, and now a seemingly unlimited supply of high-quality infantry weaponry. Seems strange for a people who are living in poverty—I mean, I’ve seen the poverty on the streets; they’re at the bottom of the food chain.
“Where are all the weapons coming from?” I ask. Trevor is probably the last person I should be asking, but I can’t help myself. The answer to that question suddenly seems like the most important thing in the world.
Trevor cocks his head to the side and gazes past Tawni, who’s walking between us. He chews on his lip for a moment, as if he’s mulling over the question, or perhaps how to concoct a believable lie. “That’s none of your damn business,” he says.
“It’s a simple question,” I say. “It takes money to buy weapons, or resources to make them—neither of which the star dwellers have. And yet, you’ve got more shiny, new weapons than the freaking Moon Realm.” I’m practically growling now, sick of putting up with Trevor’s crap.
“The Star Realm’s got plenty of resources,” he says.
“Yeah, all of which you hand over to the Sun Realm. You really think they wouldn’t miss a few tons of ore? They keep track of everything. They’re not stupid.”
“I never said they were!” Trevor yells, and I stop. His quick temper, the snarl on his face, his unwillingness to tell me anything: all of it makes me hate him.
“I want to see my mother,” I say.
“She’s busy.”
“Just tell her.”
“Fine,” Trevor says, stalking off and leaving Tawni and me alone for the first time since we woke up next to each other.
“You still think he’s okay?” I say once he’s gone.
“I don’t know,” Tawni says. “Maybe you’re right.”
“I am right.”
“You think he’s involved in something?”
“Yep.”
“Your mom will know what to do.”
“Yeah,” I say. My stomach grumbles. “You hungry?”
“I could eat,” Tawni says, and we laugh together. It’s what Cole always used to say. Her laugh turns sullen and I see moisture in her eyes. “I really miss him,” she says.
“I know. Me too.”
She grabs my arm at the elbow, her touch feeling warm and safe against my skin, and we enter the building together. First we stop at my mom’s office, but the door’s closed and locked and there’s no answer when we knock.
“I guess she’s out,” I say.
“I wonder where the food is.”
“It would have been nice of Trevor to let us know before he stormed off.”
“We’ve got some food left in our packs,” Tawni says thoughtfully.