Aelyx captured her first pawn and rolled it between his fingers. “That’s terrible.” His expressionless eyes didn’t match his words, but at least he’d made an attempt to sound sympathetic.
“It was.” She moved her knight within range of his bishop as a lure, but he didn’t take the bait. “Especially when Troy left. Mom kept getting worse, and I don’t think he could stand feeling helpless, so he joined the Marines and deployed right away.”
“You were alone?”
“Sort of.” She thought about Eric and Tori, wondering how long she could delay their first meeting with Aelyx. “My boyfriend checked up on me, but he was just a friend back then. We didn’t start dating till Mom was better. And sometimes my friend Tori brought me dinner. But other than that, yeah, I guess I was alone.”
Aelyx captured a third pawn and began stacking the pieces into a little tower. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s okay. On the bright side, I learned to pay bills, do laundry, cook for myself . . . well, kind of. I’m not a great cook.” Sucktacular was more like it.
While she took his first pawn, she worked up the nerve to ask a question, something she’d been dying to know for years. The problem was how to phrase it in a way that didn’t sound insulting. Clearing her throat, she leaned toward him and looked directly into his cold, steely eyes. “If I ask you something, will you tell me the truth?”
He hesitated, obviously caught off guard, and then nodded with exaggerated slowness like he knew this wouldn’t be a casual, friendly sort of inquiry.
“The cure from the asheem—it’s permanent, right? Like, it’s not a trick that’ll wear off one day, is it?”
With a quiet sigh, he relaxed his posture and flashed a quasi-smile. “No.” He seemed so relieved that she wondered what kind of question he’d been expecting. “But if it were a trick, do you think I’d admit it?”
“Probably not.” Still, she believed him for some reason. Aelyx didn’t strike her as a very good liar. “Hope I didn’t offend you.”
“Not at all.” He snatched her rook off the board and replaced it with his knight. “I would have been skeptical, too.”
Well then, they had something in common.
They played in silence for several minutes, and then Aelyx made a careless move—he left his queen unprotected. For the first time, Cara felt hope that she might actually win. She paused to analyze the board, making sure it wasn’t a trap, and then took his queen with her bishop. Sweet victory seemed so close that her pulse began to quicken and she felt tingly all over. Who needed drugs when winning felt this good?
“Sure you want to do that?” Aelyx asked. “I’ll checkmate you in two moves.”
She was pretty sure he was bluffing but scanned the board one more time just to be safe. Aelyx shrugged a shoulder and pushed his rook forward five spaces.
“So tell me about your family,” she said while moving her next piece. “I’ll bet your parents are better behaved than mine.”
“Technically, they’ve been dead two thousand years. I was cloned from the archives.”
Cara froze in place, her hand still curled around the bishop. “Cloned? As in a genetic copy of someone else?”
“Yes, that’s typically how it works.”
“But what about the genetics program?” L’eihrs were known for their meticulous, organized breeding. Why would they want to clone people who lived thousands of years ago when they’d achieved so many advances since then?
Aelyx’s voice was guarded when he said, “Our geneticists terminated the program.”
“Why?”
“Because we all started growing tentacles.”
Her eyes opened wide. “Really?”
“No,” he said, totally deadpan. “Not really.”
Damn, she’d walked right into that one.
Smirking at her expression, Aelyx continued. “The program was deemed obsolete twenty years ago. It’s as simple as that.”
She wanted to ask why L’eihrs didn’t procreate the natural way, but the idea of discussing sex with Aelyx skeeved her out. “Does that mean everyone younger than twenty is a clone?”
He nodded, considering his next move.
“So you don’t have parents?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she cringed. What a stupid, insensitive thing to say! “I mean, you’re adopted—not that you don’t have parents.”
He studied her for a few moments, the expression on his face unreadable. “All citizens of L’eihr are my family.” His clipped tone told her the subject was closed, and to confirm it, he slammed his knight down like a gavel. “Checkmate.”
Her victory tingles morphed into the sick weight of disappointment. Not only had she lost—again—but their conversation had taken a hard right turn into Awkwardville. One thing was certain: she’d never complain about her parents to Aelyx again. Oh, boo-frickety-hoo, my mom and dad love each other too much. He’d probably kill to have that “problem.”
Uncertain of what to say, she slouched forward and cleared the board in silence.
A few minutes later, Dad leaned through the doorway and announced supper was ready. It was about time. She needed something to cover up the sour taste of defeat that lingered on her tongue.
They took their seats at the table, and Cara leaned over her plate to inhale the mingled scents of pepperoni and mozzarella—pure, greasy goodness from above. If anything could make her feel better, it was this. She leaned toward Aelyx and tried to lighten the mood.
“Prepare to have your taste buds rocked,” she told him. “The ambassador said L’eihr food is really simple, so you’re going to love this.”
“What is it?”
“Piiiii-zzzza,” she said reverently “Otherwise known as culinary Nirvana.”
He wrinkled his nose, casting a dubious glance at his slice.
“Trust me, it’s amazing.” She tapped a nail against the golden crust. “There’s bread on the bottom, then a layer of tomato sauce—that’s a vegetable, by the way—”
“Fruit,” Mom corrected.
“Yeah, yeah. Then it’s topped with cheese, which is made from cow’s milk. But the best part is pepperoni sausage.”
“And how is sausage made?” Aelyx asked.
Dad laughed dryly from across the table. “Ignorance is bliss in this case.”
“Just try it,” Cara prompted.
Aelyx gripped the slice with stiff fingers and held it away from his face for a few moments before lifting it to his mouth to pull free a tiny bite. He worked his jaw cautiously as he chewed, like the pizza might explode if he bit down too hard. Just when Cara expected his expression to transform in rapture, his eyes widened and began watering like he might get sick. Quick as a cobra strike, he snatched a napkin and pressed it to his lips while gagging and swallowing at the same time.
“Are you okay?” She shot a hand out to comfort him, then drew back, remembering how he’d reacted to her touch in the living room.
After swallowing hard a few times, he nodded.
“Wow, you really hate it.” Which was putting it mildly. The way Aelyx glared at his plate told Cara he wanted to torture that pizza until it begged for death. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” She pushed away from the table and offered, “I’ll make you a sandwich.”
“No!” He flashed his palm at her in desperation, napkin still clutched against the corner of his mouth. “Please, no more.”
“You have to eat something.”
“My supplements can sustain me for weeks.”
“Pills?” Cara asked. “You can’t live off pills.”
“Injectables, actually, and I can. For a while, at least.”
“Out of the question.” Part of her job was to keep Aelyx comfortable and happy, and no exchange student of hers would resort to freebasing nutrients. “There has to be something you can handle, and I’m going to find it.”