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Next morning, I wake up gradually, my senses becoming aware of my surroundings by degrees. First is the din of high-pitched laughter, then the lumpy surface beneath my back, and last the warm glow of light on my face.
My eyes spring open. I’m lying against the wall on a pile of old clothes. I sit up, blinking at the ray of light that shoots through a cracked window high up on the wall. The same children from last night are hard at play, circling the concrete columns as they run from each other in a tag game. I stretch and crack a smile. This is the best sleep I’ve had in weeks, in spite of the non-bed, in spite of the fact that I had a short meditation session with Aydan last night.
Once on my feet, I bend my neck from side to side and find myself aching for a workout at the dojo. There wasn’t much I used to love more after a good night of sleep than an intense, early morning workout with Sensei ‘Moto.
I’m feeling pretty awesome until I look down at my wristwatch.
Ten A.M.! What the hell?!
I look around for a familiar face and soon spot Aydan talking to Hannah. I stride in their direction. Aydan, as always, is dressed in all black, while Hannah wears a long, flowing skirt and a fitted white top. Her blond hair is down, draping over her well-shaped breasts. I rub my forehead to ease the frown that has formed there.
“Good Morning, Marci,” Hannah says in an enthusiastic tone. Her blue eyes sparkle with the invigorating sunshine.
“’Morning,” I respond a bit too coldly. I grit my teeth, puzzled by my attitude.
Aydan’s gentle incline of his head is his only greeting. A shock of black hair falls over his forehead. A dot of light in his black eyes makes it look as if he’s trapped the sun deep inside his soul.
“You missed breakfast, sleepyhead,” Hannah puts in. She seems so different from the gloomy, desperate girl I rescued. I admire her for trying to make the best of her situation.
“I saved you a granola bar.” Aydan nods in a vague direction, probably toward the spot where he stashed my food.
“Thank you.” For some ungodly reason, my cheeks flush. I shift my weight from one foot to another and look away.
From the corner of my eyes, I notice Hannah shifting her attention to Aydan and back again. She makes a small sound in the back of her throat, as if to acknowledge something, then excuses herself. Aydan and I stand awkwardly for a moment. When we finally decide to speak we do so in unison.
“Are you hungry?”
“What is there to do around here?”
We laugh and go back to doing the awkward, silent thing.
God, this is torture.
“Um, Jori and Margo are holding a training session next door in a few minutes.”
“Training session?” I ask, curious.
“Yeah, self-defense, hand to hand combat, that sort of thing. You’d probably enjoy that. I was going to go, but if you’ll be there, I guess I’ll skip.”
“What? Afraid of getting your butt handed to you?”
He shrugs and gives me a crooked smile. The gleam in his eyes captures my attention. It’s like a firefly against a dark summer sky. He seems so different, yet so similar to the boy I first met. It’s not that his eyes didn’t shine this way before, I just I never looked closely enough. Maybe I’m the one who’s different.
“No, not afraid. I just don’t think I’d be able to help myself . . .” There is something suggestive in his expression, something that makes me blush again. “I’d probably be too tempted to . . .” he wiggles his fingers; they crackle with unseen energy, “. . . zap your ass, and I can’t afford to give us, Symbiots, away.”
I roll my eyes. “Using your skills wouldn’t count.”
“How do you figure? It’s not like you don’t have skills of your own.”
I chuckle. “Hardly. Meditation’s still a bitch as you well saw last night.”
“I think you did much better, actually.”
“Well, I did manage a short session on my own the other day,” I admit.
“What?! You didn’t mention that.” Aydan’s undisguised outrage surprises me. “You know, better than anyone, that the risk of doing that on your own is too high. You need someone to shake you awake if you don’t manage to keep the agent down.”
“It’s not like I’ve forgotten that. I’m just tired of having nothing but potential. I want results.” My temper rises a little, showing clearly in my voice.
Aydan takes a step closer and talks between clenched teeth. “You have to stop and think before you do stupid shit like that.”
“Oh, chill out. I’m fine.” I begin to turn away from him, but he takes me by the shoulders and gives me a small shake.
“If you don’t care about yourself, then at least think of me.”
My lungs freeze.
Think of me. Think of me. Think of me.
The words drill into me and coil themselves around my bones, settling me, grounding me, returning me to a reality where people care about me.
I lower my head. “I’m sorry.” The words are nothing but a murmur, but they’re a concession, nonetheless. They show him I’m willing to think of him before I risk my life.
He hooks a finger under my chin and forces my gaze to meet his. “We can practice again today, okay?”
I nod.
His eyes lower to my mouth for a split second, but he immediately looks away and takes a step back, nodding and forcing a casual smile. I swallow, surprised by the way a mere errant glance has sent my heart into a frantic pace.
“Um, they’re getting started in a couple of minutes.” Aydan points toward the door that leads to the dining area. He gestures with his head for me to follow as he begins a leisurely stroll in that direction. I go, glad for the distraction. These conversations with Aydan are highly informative but way too heavy.
Apparently, he still wants to kiss me. Moreover, since this assumption entered my mind, it seems it’s made itself comfortable and it’s now a strong theory. I press my lips together into a thin line. Would kissing Aydan mean a betrayal to Xave?