Chapter Twelve
***
The next day went backto normal, or at least as normal as it could be given the circumstances. She woke with the sunrise and ascended the steps. Everything was quiet, peaceful, unlike what was happening inside of her.
The mist was a dark grey cloud, but it was light enough to know that Kepler's sun would soon be above the horizon. The chilly morning air filled her lungs and chased the tired from her limbs.
She heard the slap of hands slamming against metal, the hollow sound wet and ringing as it sailed over her ears. Rylie took a deep breath and didn’t turn around. She wouldn’t be able to see Netto through the fog, anyway. Instead, she powered up the watership and began the day.
The ship rocked and the normalcy of it soothed her nerves. She could almost pretend that it was any morning at sea and she was alone. But the calm feeling didn’t last long as heavy footsteps drew near, as did the sound of water hitting the floor.
The holo-screens brightened her periphery as her ship connected to the satellites in space. It took all of several seconds to download the night time stats.
Rylie pretended to be absorbed in reading them, though her fists clenched on her lap, her nails biting into her palm. He hadn't moved away and the longer he stood behind her, the harder it was for her to ignore him.
Go away, go away, go away. Don't make me look at you.
“Head southeast,” he said low enough for only her to hear. Netto moved away and the door to the interior of the ship screeched as it opened and closed. Rylie sagged in her seat, immediately relieved. She wiped her hands on her shirt and changed the course of the ship.
The wind whistled in and blew overhead. The ship turned and jerked before it headed southeast.
The day went on as any other and she busied herself within the bridge. The Cyborgs remained up on the top deck and left her and her family alone. The only stops they made that morning were for the Cyborgs to jump overboard and scout the water, checking for a break in the shields, a break in the noise the modules emitted.
They continued southeast until Zeph told her to go due east.
Thoughts of the evening before consumed her. Whenever Netto walked past her or said something to the others, it made her want to stand up and rage at him, to demand answers. But she remained silent and convinced herself that it would be best to act as though the situation had never happened, and limit the time spent between them until she could get away.
But she continuously pressed her fingers to her mouth. Rylie could still feel the phantom touch of his lips over hers and taste the salt of him. It had been her first. It would be her worst.
Her body shivered whenever Netto was nearby.
The image of him on her bed thrusting into his hand with his head bent low over her pillow haunted her. Rylie crossed her legs and hated herself for it. She hated that she ached. Hated that her body reacted despite his words.
She fantasized that things had gone differently. That she had stood there in the hallway, silent, as he masturbated just out of her sight, and fled before seeing him. Before he saw her.
She also pictured herself stepping into the room and closing the door behind her, stopping him right before he finished on her bedding, and making him finish inside her, instead.
