He stopped on the sidewalk and turned me toward him. Holding my face in both hands he said, “I don’t want to break up with you, ever. Why would you think that? I love you.”
I wanted to believe him but his actions said otherwise. “Then what is going on with you, Cipher? I wish you’d just tell me instead of making me guess.”
“Kitten, listen, I–”
“Hey, Brother Cipher,” Larry said in a big, booming voice, startling us both. “Whoa, there, kids, it’s just me.” He slapped Cipher on the back while looking me over in a way that made my neck hairs bristle. “Excited about getting some shots off today?”
“Yeah. Give me a minute and I’ll be right there.” Grabbing my hand, Cipher led me to a gap between the buildings where we could have some privacy. There he looked me over as if to see if I was injured. I didn’t know what to say or how to make it better, so I crossed my arms and braced myself for whatever came next, hoping he might give me something–anything–to help me understand why he was acting this way.
But instead of speaking, he pulled me to him and hugged me tightly. But it wasn’t enough to reassure me, not this time. Larry called for him again, something about getting this show on the road. Cipher kissed my forehead, the extent of his affection lately. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” he said.
“Sure,” I said hollowly. Now, I’d spend all night stressing about whatever it was he was going to tell me, and we’d probably miss each other in the morning anyhow, which meant he could do all the drugs he wanted without me asking any questions. I hated feeling this way, like I was a burden and a nag, but he hadn’t given me any indication that I was anything else.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him smile.
“I love you,” he said like he was trying to convince himself. I nodded, trying to hold myself together, and watched him walk away. Farther down the block, Brother Larry put his arm around his shoulders to guide him into the armory, glancing back at me with a dark look that only confirmed my suspicion.
I was unwanted and unwelcome. If Larry and I were in some sort of competition for Cipher’s attention, then I was definitely losing.
* * *
“Hey, do you guys ever fight?”I was hanging with Gizmo and Wiley at the park after dinner while Teresa swung on the playground nearby. Artemis and Macon were off on their own, so it was just the three of us for the moment. Gizmo and Wiley were in a relationship, at least it seemed that way to me, and they were less guarded about their feelings than Artemis and Macon. And, no matter what questions I asked, Gizmo always gave me a straight answer.
“We fight all the time,” Gizmo said. “Wiley thinks the imperial system is better for measurement, when the metric system is clearly superior.”
“Only because the entire town runs on the imperial system,” Wiley said, defending his position. “If we were in a lab, then I’d choose the metric system hands down, but we have to work with what we’ve got.”
“Which is an inferior system,” Gizmo said with a nod.
That one was only a warm-up. I mustered up my courage to say my biggest worry out loud. “Have you guys ever gotten into an argument that was so bad you, like, broke up?” I asked.
“Broke up?” Gizmo said as if confused. “That seems… extreme.”
“No,” Wiley answered for both of them. He brushed his hand against Gizmo’s briefly before letting it rest right next to his so that their pinkies were touching. “But we have needed some time apart. Remember the time we debated whether a lightsaber could cut through adamantium?”
“Which is the stronger metal, adamantium or beskar?” Gizmo mused. “It remains unproven, largely because we can’t test fictional metals and the source material is inconclusive.”
“Exactly,” Wiley nodded. “We each needed to extrapolate before we could reach an agreement. Sometimes it’s better to take some time to process and come back with fresh eyes.”
“And greater objectivity,” Gizmo said.
“But you never wanted to stop being together?” I asked, trying to get at the root of my fear.
“That would be nonsensical,” Gizmo said. “Who else but Wiley would listen to my theories on time travel and offer their very astute feedback?”
Gizmo laid his hand over Wylie’s while blinking owlishly from behind the set of glasses Wiley had recently fashioned for him. Wiley smiled at the compliment, his merry blue eyes crinkling.
“We have the same eyeglass prescription too,” Wiley said, still grinning.
“I didn’t even know I needed new glasses until I tried his on,” Gizmo said. “No wonder I was such a terrible scout. My radius of vision was only three meters.”
“That’s so sweet,” I said with a sigh.
Gizmo shook his head. “It’s practical. If we lose our glasses, we can borrow from each other.”
“That too,” I agreed.
“Just talk to him,” Wiley said, getting to the heart of the matter. “Tell him how you feel and what you want. It’s probably just a misunderstanding.”
