He lowers his lids. “Don’t push it.”
“My point,” I emphasize, “is that it’s okay to let go for a little.” And then, words I thought I’d decided not to say come out anyway: “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
A flush creeps along the arch of his cheekbones. He turns away, his expression partly veiled by the fall of his hair. Jester must have taken the lead inFrog Smasher, because Caspen starts cheering and the Youvu Hums let out a collective,Oh no.
Lament says, “You can’t promise anyone’s safety.”
My lifestone is warm against my skin. If I were to pull it out right now, it’d be glowing. “I can try.”
The rest of the day passes in lazy stretches ofFrog Smasherand naps and one single attempt to discuss the Legion’s next move on Ran Doc Min, which quickly fizzles to silence. Breakfast is a round of PPMs, lunch is a round of PPMs, and dinner is a round of PPMs, pulled from a drawer in The Bargainer’s small kitchen (cozy but outdated, much like the rest of the ship) and served alongside a vat of Jester’s sour gummies. He offers me the tub, and despite Lament’s warning, I’m curious. If I was by myself, I’d probably lick the candy first to test its potency, but hell if I’m going to do something so cowardly with everyone (ahem, Lament) watching. Anyway,lickinganything right now seems like the opposite of a good idea, given Vera is back on her quest to spot even the smallest indication that Lament and I are… you know… possibly maybe thinking about one day kissing each other. Which we aren’t. I mean, I’m not. Even if thinking about how we’re not kissing makes me suddenly aware that I couldn’t kiss Lament even if I wanted to. (WHICH I DON’T.)
I pop the entire candy into my mouth.
At first, nothing. The gummy is lemon-flavored, chewy enough that I really have to work at it. Sour, but not melt-your-tongue-off sour.
I’m about to ask what the big deal is. Then: agony.
It’s like someone’s taken pliers to my jaw andcrunched. I spit-project the offending candy onto the floor, only to find myself down on the floor beside it, coughing and drooling in a haze of sour gummy anguish. My saliva glands are seizing painfully, and I have the wild thought that I might actually go blind from the burn. The Sixers are rolling in laughter.
“How—?” I try to ask Jester around my swollen tongue. “How do youenjoythese?”
He just grins and pops a gummy into his mouth.
When I’m finally able to stand again, I limp over and flop onto the love seat beside Lament. “Don’t,” I say.
He’s not even trying to hide his mirth. “I did warn you.”
“Has my tongue disintegrated?”
“Let me see.” He grips my jaw lightly with the pads of his fingers, turning my head this way and that. The contact sends a shiver up my spine. I can hear the nervous sound of my swallow.
Lament releases me. “The organ in question remains intact.”
“Are you sure?”
“Fairly certain, yes.”
“Maybe you’d like to check again? You know, just in case?”
“Are you propositioning me?”
Lament’s delivery is so deadpan I actually have to stop myself from spluttering out a horrifiednoofcoursenotwhywouldyouthinkthat?I catch myself with my mouth open. And then I just blush. “I’m going to help Vera clean up,” I grumble.
Lament’s grin is roguish. “You do that.”
Cleaning upreally just means tossing the cardboard PPM boxes into the incinerator, but it gives me a chance to recover from this nebulous feeling of concern-slash-confusion that’s been hanging around me ever sinceLament emerged from Illiviamona’s medical room this morning. Besides, being shoulder to shoulder with Vera reminds me that Lament isn’t the only person I owe an apology. “Vera, hey.”
She bumps the incinerator door closed with her hip. “Hey.”
“I wanted to say I’m sorry. I know”—I rush on before I lose the nerve—“I should have told you about Venthros being my home planet. The way you found out wasn’t fair. I understand if you’re upset.”
“Upset?” She brushes her hands on her pants. “Keller, no. I’mconcerned. You just learned a poisonous gas is about to overtake your planet. I know you said you left Venthros on bad terms, but this… I mean, it’s still your home, right?” When I don’t immediately reply, she continues, “You don’t have to answer that. Your past is your own, okay? You can tell us about it when you’re ready. If you’re ever ready.”
“I told Lament,” I say, and then wonder why the hell I just admitted that.
Vera’s lip curls in a slow smile. “You two seem to be getting along.”
I glance through the narrow kitchen archway over to where Lament is sitting on our shared love seat. Jester won theFrog Smashercompetition (to no one’s apparent surprise), so tonight we’ll be watchingCamp. “Yeah. I guess we are.”
