I lean back against it next to him, not touching, lest we get yelled at by Shashi again. Her rules got about a thousand times stricter once she saw the state of things outside.
“How are you doing?”
A faint smile cracks, and he blinks too hard. “Not good.”
“I’m sorry.”
He raises his left shoulder, just a little. I guess he’s too upset to talk about it. And what’s he supposed to say to that anyway? ‘It’s fine. You lied to me about who you are, what you did, why you were here, then gave me feelings you tried to take away right before you left me. I’m grand.’
Memories of how awful I’ve been play over in my mind so vividly I forget that I’m supposed to say something more until he asks, “How long will it take? To put things back?”
“I really don’t know.”
“Will we… be blasted back with all the things? Do you think we’ll die?”
“I don’t know. But I’d like you to not be in the room when I open the rift.”
He turns the particle accelerator over again, head dipped low. “It feels weird that you’ll go. And… I mean… we can’t even touch. After everything.”
“I will kiss you goodbye.” I mean it from my heart. I couldn’t step away without it.
He manages a half-hearted smile. “‘Goodbye.’” When he looks up, his eyes are hazy, like mine. “I guess some things just aren’t meant to be.”
“You know I’d do anything to stay.” My hand drops to the table, so close I feel the heat of him. “Sometimes I wish I’d never come near you, so I could have saved you from this. If I’d ever known this would happen, I wouldn’t have touched you… But August, I’m so glad I met you.”
He turns his face away. Not before I see the tear run down his cheek.
“I meant everything I said. You’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met. I mean, look at you. Saving the universe while I tear it apart.”
His brow draws tight, even as he stares at the floor. “I’m not doing anything. I’m just sitting here.”
“You’ve amassed this group of people who care about you. I can see they do. They’re all here because of you. August didn’t kill me because of you. We’re only doing this because you’re irresistibly lovely.”
His laugh is sad. “‘Irresistible.’”
“I’d love to say fuck you to the universe. Truly. But I don’t think it would listen.”
A loud crack interrupts—Shashi smashing her hand down on the keyboard. “It’s not fucking working!”
“Just call support!” Assassin Augusts insists, and maybe he’s said it ten times already; I wasn’t listening.
“It’s not that!” Her exasperation suggests he maybe did say that ten times already. “They’ve cut me out. I can’t log in. How am I supposed to get coordinates?” She slams her hand down on the table several more times. “We’re running out of time!”
She glances out the window at the blackening sky, and Amber runs her fingers over Shashi’s head, massaging her scalp. She’s perfectly quiet, which I’m pretty sure isn’t normal for Amber.
“How exact does it have to be?” my August asks Shashi. “The coordinates.”
“Pretty exact would be nice.” I appreciate that Shashi tried to keep the irritation out of her voice, even if she failed.
“I have an app,” he suggests. “It shows you where things are in space. I mean, I know that’s far from perfect, but it might have the centre of the galaxy. The direction at least. Let me look.”
“If we just had a bit more time,” she sighs out, ignoring his idea. She picks up the phone and dials a number she’s reading off the screen.
“Your phone’s going to stop working soon,” I tell August. “And her supercomputer. Everything’s about to break. Permanently.”
The soundtrack of the app comes on—some hokey generic ‘space music.’ He holds it up, searching to figure out where we are relative to the core of the galaxy. “That way, according to this.” He points off to our left.
Shashi smacks the phone down. “Ugh, why does it have to be Sunday? I can’t get a new login. I can’t do this. How can we calculate it exactly?” She’s up, around the desk. “August, can I have your phone?”
