It was the only thing I could do.
“Date of birth?” I asked, dull and listless.
“You know my birthday, Imogen,” he answered.
“Date of birth?” I repeated. Professional. Keep this professional.
Yoss sighed. “December 24th, 1982.”
“You’re a Christmas Eve baby!” I exclaimed, grinning.
“Ugh. Do you know how much that sucked as a kid? Everyone thought they could get away with buying me one present to cover both Christmas and my birthday. I could never really have a party unless it was weeks after or before. It sucked,” Yoss complained good-naturedly.
I leaned down and kissed him on the tip of his nose. He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me onto his lap. We were still new enough that touching felt secret. It was intoxicating. It made me giddy.
Yoss nuzzled the side of my neck, his lips warm and dry on my skin. “Can I have you for my birthday this year?” he murmured.
I turned in his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck, resting my forehead against his. “You can have me every day.”
I wrote his date of birth down in the required space.
“Last physical address?” I went on.
“I don’t think there’s an actual street name for where I was living,” Yoss replied neutrally.
“Well, where was it? I can make note of it.”
“Do you still wear the necklace?” he asked out of the blue.
My hand flew up to the small lump underneath my shirt, pulling the chain free of my collar. My fingers hiding the red figure.
“I still can’t believe I found it. Do you remember? That day at the flea market? You were getting all girlie about that weird doll—”
“The Kimber doll. From Jem and the Holograms,” I interrupted.
“Yeah, well you were all giggly and cute about it. You freaked when you saw it. I told you to take it, but you wouldn’t.” Yoss shook his head, then winced at the movement. “You always had way more scruples than the rest of us.”
“I just never saw the point of stealing something that I didn’t really need,” I pointed out. I didn’t want to look at him, but I couldn’t help myself. His smile was sweet.
“Then I found it. The necklace. It was sitting there, underneath these ugly, yellow doilies. It was like a sign or something. Do you remember what I told you?” he pressed.
My chest felt tight, my heart felt full. “You said that it would be like having a piece of you with me always. Because it’s the symbol from the cover of that book,” I said quietly, touching the hard lump again.
“Catch-22,” Yoss said, sounding pleased that I remembered.
I met Yoss’s eyes. Bright, fevered green burning. “And you’re still wearing it,” he said.
I nodded, tucking the necklace back in place.
“Why, Imogen? Why do you still wear it?” he asked.
Why?
I glanced back at the assessment I was filling out and pressed my lips into a thin line. “Now who’s using our history to manipulate?” I murmured.
Yoss didn’t say anything else about the necklace.
“Last physical address?” I asked again, sticking to the words on the paper.
