“I’ll draw him for you sometime, though I’m not a great artist.”
She gave a theatrical gasp. “There’s something you’re not good at?”
“Three things.”
“You’re joking.” She pulled back his hood to gauge his expression. No humor in his eyes. “I don’t believe it.”
“Every child on L’eihr is tested at age six, then assigned a career based on his or her strengths. I demonstrated superior language skills, so I was chosen to serve as a translator.”
She nodded for him to continue.
“But I had a passion for science, not communication, so I appealed to my Elders a few years later. They said my scores were far too inferior to qualify for a laboratory position.”
“Sorry.” She gave his arm a little pat and quickly drew back. “What’s the other thing you struggle with?”
Aelyx kicked a pile of leaves and his smile returned. “Obedience.”
She laughed and pointed at him. “You’re making this up.”
“I promise.” He held up one hand. “I rebelled by refusing to participate in my foreign language classes. That earned me five strokes with the iphet across my backside.”
“Like a paddle?”
“Imagine an electric paddle, more like a whip. And then no meals for the rest of the day.”
“Hot damn.” L’eihrs didn’t mess around.
“Hot damn is a perfect description for the iphet. I’ve experienced it two times, and that was twice too many. Anyway, Syrine—she’s the female you met at the gala—snuck food into my dormitory and gave me a lecture on duty and responsibility. After that, we became friends, and a few years later, roommates.”
“Wait. Your roommate’s a girl?” Cara felt uncomfortable with that for some reason.
“And Eron. He’s in China right now. After the three of us were selected for the exchange, we started sharing a room.”
“Oh.” That made her feel better—less like Aelyx and Syrine were shacking up. “So, are the other two exchange students good with language like you?”
“Eron’s a translator. Syrine has. . . other skills.” He pressed his lips together, pulled his hood back up, and quickened his pace. Just like that, the mood changed.
“Like what?”
“She’s an emotional healer.” Then he added in a reverent tone, “I swear she sees into my head, even when we’re not together. She’s one of my closest friends, similar to your Tori—” He paused on the trail, tripping over his own words, mouth agape for several seconds before he managed an apology. “Sorry. I keep forgetting.”
A dull ache spread through Cara’s core, like he’d just smacked her in the stomach with a Wiffle ball bat. But when she considered her feelings, she realized hurt wasn’t the only emotion threatening to double her over. Syrine wasn’t just his roommate; she was his best friend, too? Just how close were they? Close like that?
“It’s okay,” she mumbled.
They continued in silence until they reached the street and witnessed the largest crowd of Patriot protesters to date. Radicals spilled out onto the vacant lot where Aelyx’s supporters used to sing and dance, back before fistfights and flying beer bottles had scared away all the hippies.
“I’d half expected them to stay home,” Aelyx said.
“Yeah, I’m not feeling very ignored.”
At least the government had finally stepped up and sent some troops. About two dozen armed soldiers donned in green camo corralled the demonstrators. Too bad they couldn’t contain the cigarette butts, discarded leaflets, and cardboard coffee cups that blew around the parking lot like tumbleweeds.
Cara couldn’t help scanning the lot for Tori’s Prius, but she quickly forced her gaze back to Aelyx. Clearing her throat, she wiped one dampened palm on her pants. Could she really hold it together? Eric and Tori hadn’t even crossed her path yet, and her eyes were already welling up. She faced the frigid breeze and blinked repeatedly until the tears dried.
“You can do this,” Aelyx promised.
“I know.” But despite that, her feet wouldn’t budge.
He studied her for a long moment, then did something she couldn’t believe. He reached down and took her hand. His long fingers were stiff, but he laced them between hers and tightened his grip, fusing their palms together in a mesmerizing contrast of skin.
Cara stared at their intertwined hands and went a little gooey inside.
“You don’t have to do this,” she said. “I know you hate it.”
“Quite the opposite.” He smiled down at her. “Consoling you brings me comfort. Listening to you cry while I’m trapped on the other side of the wall is what I can’t stand.”
“You’re too good to me.”
His smile fell. “I wouldn’t say that.”
He towed her ahead by their linked fingers, and they faced the crowd as a united front—the two of them against the world. It sparked a flicker of hope inside her chest.
Before they even made it across the street, someone on the fringes of the crowd blew an air horn in four quick blasts. Then, in eerie synchronization, the entire assembly turned to the left and faced the opposite direction. They must’ve rehearsed it all morning.
Message received: she was invisible. But for the first time since bringing Aelyx to Midtown, Cara felt comfortable gazing into the crowd. She slowed her pace to study the backsides of her would-be foes.
She recognized Mr. McFarland, one of her neighbors and the owner of the Midtown Grocery, and sweet Lord, there was Mrs. Fraker, her old Sunday School teacher. So much for peace, love, and understanding. A lot had changed since HALO’s early days, when squirrely radicals dominated the group. Men still outnumbered women, but Cara noticed several high ponytails, French twists, and a few full-length cashmere coats. A little red-haired toddler with wide, curious eyes peered at Cara from behind his mother’s hip. She smiled at the boy, but he thrust out his tongue and hid his face.
Inside the school, most students still parted like the Red Sea, while others stopped and stared as she clung to Aelyx’s hand. She knew the kind of rumors this would fuel, but who cared? She didn’t have a friend in the world except for Aelyx, so his opinion was all that mattered. Strike that—-judging by the L’annabe loitering at Cara’s locker, it seemed she had two friends.
“Haleem!” The girl backed away from Aelyx to avoid killing him via hair dye.
“Actually, that means good-bye,” Aelyx said. “Mahra is the word you want.”
“Maaaa-hraaah.” The L’annabe closed her eyes, savoring the exotic greeting in her mouth like a truffle. Half an inch of dishwater-blond roots told Cara the girl had quit coloring her hair, but unfortunately, she hadn’t ditched the Quick Tan.
“What’s your name?” Cara pried her fingers loose from Aelyx’s, then shook her hand to get the blood flowing before entering her combination. “And where’s the rest of you guys?”
“Ashley.” An unnatural shade of orange darkened her cheeks as she glanced down, straightening the L’eihr Lover! button tacked to her sweater. “And it’s just me now.”
“Oh. Right.” Apparently the other L’eihr Lovers couldn’t take the heat, so they’d vacated the kitchen. Cara couldn’t really blame them, but she admired Ashley’s tenacity. A girl with enough guts to flaunt her unpopular beliefs could make a valuable addition to the debate team.
“Hey,” Cara said. “You doing anything after school?”
“I don’t think so. Why?”
“Want to come to debate practice with me? We only meet once a week now that I’ve got Aelyx to look after, so it’s not a huge time commitment.” She sized Ashley up—confident posture, articulate speech, and most importantly, she didn’t say like or um after every other word. “I think you’d be good at it.”