The machine whirrs. Vibration runs through the headgear. I focus on breathing evenly. In. Out. No big deal. I’ve done this before.
Stan leans in, his breath brushing the side of my neck. “Hey, Ocean Eyes,” he murmurs, “am I too close?”
My pulse picks up. The scanner beeps. I grip the armrests.
“Nil’s heart rate increased,” Idris says, looking at the tablet.
Stan whispers beside me, his smile obvious from his voice. “Must be the new Kys, huh, Ocean Eyes?”
“Stop it, Stan,” I hiss through my teeth.
Idris reaches past me to tweak the settings on the machine. “Nil,try taking a slower breath.”
I do. It helps. A little.
Stan doesn’t help at all. He moves closer. Heat burns up my neck. “Stan,” I grit out.
He looks completely unbothered. “I’m contributing to modern science,” he whispers.
Em nudges at Stan to back off. “You’re contaminating the readings.”
“Oh, I’ve been contaminated alright,” he says. “All night long. Nil, over here, was—”
The scanner flashes a red alert. Em sighs through her nose. “I’m stopping the scan.”
As soon as she takes it off me, the machine winds down. My shoulders fall in relief.
Em studies the tablet, then looks at Idris. “We’ll need to recalibrate and test again later. Preferably when he’s less…stimulated.”
Stan claps his hands, looking too damn delighted. “Ocean Eyes broke the machine. God, why is that so hot?”
Idris picks up Em’s tea and hands it to her. “We’ll reschedule your scan for this afternoon, Nil,” he says. “Give the Kys time to settle. And perhaps give Stan time to burn off some…energy.”
“Are you telling me to go take a cold shower?” Stan asks.
“I’m recommending…” Idris says, amused, “any activity that lowers Nil’s heart rate instead of increasing it.”
Stan thinks about that, then grins. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”
Em taps on her tablet. “There are no adverse markers,” she tells me. “But your readings are not usable in this state.”
“What state?” Stan asks. “Happy? Satisfied? Horn—”
“Stan,” Idris and I say at the same time.
He just beams.
I try to hide my reaction, but I feel like I ran a marathon.
Shit, I think I’m riding out a high too. It has nothing to do withthe pill Em handed out to us. It has everything to do with how Stan points his grin at me.
“Oh,” Em mutters, staring between me and Stan. “Earlier, your comment about the mirrors. Was that related to the gym’s mirrors?”
My chest pulls tight. “What?”
She doesn’t answer. Instead, she walks toward the far dark corner of the MedBay.
With a press of a remote, a row of security screens flickers to life.
