Terra (20 page)

“Don’t know what to tell you, Miss Terra,” she says coyly, twisting a lock of hair around her finger. “He’s not.”

“Well, do you know where he went?”

“Yep.”

I sigh. “And…? Where did he go?”

“I saw him take off with Junie.”

“What?”

“Yeah, he’s walked her home every day this week. Guess he wanted to make sure she got home nice and dry.” Brim bursts into a fit of giggles as her mother arrives to collect her.

“Great.” I pinch the bridge of my nose and turn back to Adam. “What a time for him to become a gentleman. I blame you for this, you know.”

“Should we go get him?” Adam asks.

I bite my lip and glance up at the sky; the clouds are almost directly overhead. They’re moving much faster than they normally do.

“There isn’t time,” I say finally. “Let’s just go home. Maybe he’s already back. And if not…” I let the rest of the sentence fall away. I know Mica will be fine, that’s hardly the issue. I just hope that the Coals tolerate his company much better than they do mine.

Even with the speed of the motorbike, our detour at the school has taken longer than I thought. We’re still speeding through the deserted streets of the West Q when the first drops start to fall. The rain starts slowly, as it always does; beads of water descend sporadically, as if patches of the cloud layer have sprung very mild leaks. They’re spaced out far enough for us to avoid, and we still have a few minutes before it evolves into a full-blown downpour.

I sigh with relief as we turn the corner and my apartment building comes into view, then gasp as a fat droplet grazes my shoulder. I feel Adam tense up—he must have gotten hit, too. He drives straight under the awning that hangs above the building’s front doors, and we dash inside.

“Are you all right?” I ask once we’re safely inside, checking my shoulder for damage. There’s a small pink dash on my skin, but I’ve definitely had worse.

Adam breathes through his teeth as he inspects his arm. It only takes me a second to see exactly where he got hit, and to realize that he got it much worse than I did. A circle on top of his forearm—an inch from his elbow—has risen into a grotesque bubble. After a second, it settles back down into a raw, red welt. Adam grips his arm from underneath, still breathing harshly, and marches upstairs without saying a word.

“How do you live like this?” he finally says once we’ve reached my apartment.

“What?” I say, distracted as I wrestle with the lock on the front door. “You mean the rain?”

“Yes. It’s just so…”

“Inconvenient?” I offer.

“I think it goes a little beyond that,” he says darkly, following me inside.

“I don’t know. I mean, it’s a pain, sure. But this is life. Our UV filter is long gone. We never had the resources to maintain it, let alone build a new one. But we have the forecasts down almost to the hour at this point. Plus there are the warning horns. Nobody’s gotten seriously hurt in ages.”

“I find that hard to believe,” he says, looking down at his arm.

“There’s usually more time,” I say guiltily. “If I’d known the rain was going to start so soon after the horns, I wouldn’t have said we should go by the school.”

Adam frowns. “Timing would be the least of my concerns if I had to deal with this on a regular basis,” he says coldly.

I shrug noncommittally, fighting the resentment rising in my chest. It’s not that I’ve forgotten Adam is a skydweller—the proof literally stares me in the face every time I look him in the eye. But I’ve gotten so used to his presence that it’s slipped to the back of my mind.

“How unfortunate it is that we can’t all be born into a life of skyborn luxury,” I say bitterly. I toss the bag with the jackets onto the kitchen table with too much force. It slides right over the opposite edge and lands on the floor.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he says gently, walking around the table to retrieve the bag. He places it squarely on the center of the table.

“I know. Sorry, old habit.” I walk into the bathroom and pull a box of bandages and a tube of antiseptic from a cabinet. “Here, let me see your arm.”

We pull chairs from the kitchen table and sit facing each other as I clean his wound. “You have to understand that I’m still getting used to all of this,” I say, wrapping a bandage gently around his forearm. I accidentally brush over his wound and he flinches. The dark blonde hairs on his arm stand up.

“All of what?” he asks, his face barely acknowledging the pain.

“You. You’re… you’re this total anomaly. The officials, the guardsmen, even our own teachers… people from up top barely associate with us. They serve their time down here in the hopes of netting something better for themselves when they get back—a promotion, a raise, whatever.” I secure the bandage with a knot, and my fingers linger a little too long. “You could treat us like the rest of them do—like we’re nothing more than your innkeepers, people who provide a place for you to bunk. But you, I don’t know, actually seem to like spending time with the people here. You’re… interesting. And you’re interest
ed
. In Sixteen. In us. You don’t immediately try to sanitize your palms after shaking someone’s hand down here.”

I look at Adam earnestly for a moment, his blue eyes warm and inviting, a smile lurking behind the serious set of his lips. “I mean, it’s nice,” I add. “But it’s just strange. There’s a reason why we don’t spend time with you all, why we don’t get to know you. My own father’s a perfect example. He was from up top, born and raised in Korbyllis. Did you know that? And as he loved to remind me, he threw it all away—his life
up there
—to be with my mother. Then she died, and he hated it down here so much that he left. He didn’t even have the decency to say goodbye to his own kids.” My face feels hot as I speak. “There’s no benefit for you. No reason you should want to be here.”

My lips close clumsily over the last words, and I’m struck with the urge to crawl to my room and smother my embarrassment under my pillow. I start to turn away, but Adam catches my wrist. He pulls me toward him and in an instant we are face-to-face.

“You want to hide,” he says, a sudden intensity in his voice. “I know. Because you feel like you’re not allowed to think the things you think. Or feel the things you feel.”

“Welcome to the human condition,” I say wryly.

He releases my wrist and brushes aside a few dark strands of hair that have fallen into my eyes. His hand lingers on my cheek and I can’t stop myself from leaning into it.

“Don’t,” I say faintly.

“Why not?”

“Look, it’s been a long day, and you’re upset, and we’re… we’re not the same.” The moment the words fall from my lips, I regret them.

He laughs, a breathy sound. “So what? Since when is being the same so great anyway?”

He leans forward and his lips are on mine. He kisses me softly at first, pressing his lips to me lightly. He pulls away and appraises me tentatively, his eyebrows raised. Before my brain can stop me, I push my lips back to his, and we ignite.

Adam’s hand glides from my cheek to the back of my neck, pulling me into him. I wrap one arm around his shoulders and meet his urgency. His fingers brush through my hair, tangling in my locks, and he tugs down gently, pulling my head back. He trails his lips down my chin and presses them to my neck, making me shiver. I pull Adam’s face back to mine and kiss him feverishly. My emotions pulse and mingle and flare: desire and longing and gratitude all mixed in one. This is wrong. This should
feel
wrong. But it doesn’t. It feels like this is what was meant to happen all along. The two of us, both left behind in our own ways, finding each other.

We stand. His hand presses into the small of my back, pulling me closer. My breath becomes ragged. His fingers edge up beneath the hem of my shirt, and my skin feels hot under his touch. Electric. He moves his other hand to cradle my cheek, and his lips flutter over mine. I push myself into him—one hand on his chest, the other still wrapped around his shoulders—and feel his muscles rolling under my iron grip. Our bodies align as we walk into the back of the couch, our lips still pressed to one another.

Adam is the first to break away.

“Listen,” he says, pointing to the window. He spins me deftly around so my back is to him, and wraps his arms around me, holding me still. The air around us is silent save for my rapid breathing.

“Rain’s stopped,” I say. “Guess that really was a short shower.” I don’t add that it’s the first time I’ve ever wished it would rain longer.

“How long until you think Mica will be home?” he asks, resting his chin in my hair. I feel his breath on my neck as the words vibrate into me. He brushes the hair off my shoulder and plants soft kisses along my neck.

I shiver. “I don’t know. Not that long, probably.”

“Well then,” he says, grinning wickedly. “I guess we should take advantage of the time we have.” He turns me back around and starts to lean into me, but I put my hand on his chest to stop him. His reminder of Mica floods me with clarity. And regret.

What am I doing?

Whatever spell I was under breaks. I push Adam back, my cheeks flaring with equal parts anger and humiliation.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

I shake my head. “I can’t.”

He laughs softly. “I thought we went over this already.”

“I’m serious, Adam. This is wrong. This was a mistake.”

His face falls, his lips forming a line. “Why do you keep saying that? What’s so wrong about it?”

“I—it just is. I’ve already told you, you and me, them and us, we don’t work. Sooner or later, you’re going to take off, and I don’t want to be the trampy terrestrial you end up telling all your skybuddies about once you’re gone, okay?”

“Nice to know you have such a high opinion of me,” he says angrily.

“You know what I mean. It’s just better for everyone if we don’t go there.”

“Not sure if you’ve noticed, Terra, but we’re already there.”

I stare at him in silence, afraid that my willpower will fade if I speak again.

“All right, if that’s how you want it,” he says. He walks to the front door and yanks it open.

“You can’t go outside yet,” I say. “The ground is still too wet, it’s not safe.”

“I’ll take my chances,” he says, slamming the door behind him as he storms out.

Chapter 17

“I know, I know,” Mica says sheepishly as he walks through the door. I finish putting the last clean dish away—my last in a series of mindless housekeeping tasks I’ve gone through in an attempt to keep myself out of my head.

“How much trouble am I in?” Mica asks, rounding the corner and peering at me from the edge of the kitchen alcove.

“Oh…” I say, flattening the back of my hair nervously. Even though I’ve already brushed it twice, I can’t help feeling like evidence of my mistake with Adam is still visible in its tangles. “You’re not in trouble. I’m just glad you got back all right. How was school?”

I nearly cringe at my own words. They sound too formal, too forced.

Mica eyes me curiously. “Um, okay… I was just with Juniper. At the Coals’?”

“I know,” I say. “We stopped by the school and your friend Brim told me. Next time leave a message with a teacher or something,” I add. “Were the Coals okay with you being there?”

“I guess. I mean, her sister wasn’t half as nice to me as when she was here the other day, but it’s not like she threw me out.”

“That’s good.”

“Are
you
okay with me being there?”

I shrug. “You turn fourteen in a couple days, Mic. So I assume by now you’re perfectly capable of keeping yourself thoroughly un-disintegrated during a rainfall.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Mica says.

“I know. It’s fine, really. I mean, I’m obviously not a fan of the Coals, but it’s whatever. I’m… happy for you.”

“So where’s Adam?” Mica asks happily. Thankfully, he turns around to sit down at the table before he can see my cheeks turn bright pink in response.

“Oh…” I start awkwardly. It’s been over an hour since he left, and I have no idea when—or if—he’s coming back. “He’s, uh—”

Right on cue, I hear a knock at the front door. Mica slides his chair back and lumbers over to open the door; the icy chill that immediately takes over the apartment confirms that Adam has returned. I flatten myself against the back wall of the kitchen, listening intently.

“Perfect timing,” Mica says. “I was just asking where you ran off to. Ouch, guess the rain got you?”

“Yep, it nailed me pretty good,” Adam says.

“Sucks,” Mica says. “What’ve you been up to?”

I hold my breath.

“I finally made it to the Marketplace today,” Adam says brightly. I exhale, thankful that whatever front he puts on for the public also apparently applies to little brothers.

“Fascinating stuff,” he continues. “Haggling, bartering… it’s all unheard of where I’m from. A totally different kind of shopping experience.”

Mica walks into the kitchen and notices me cowering against the wall. I try to pretend like I’m straightening a picture hanging beside me, but I don’t fool him. Mica eyes me speculatively as he sits back down at the table. A few seconds later, Adam enters and takes a seat as well. I shoot a nervous glance at him, but his face is impassive. He is obviously still angry with me, but is reining it in for Mica’s benefit. I flash him a grateful smile, which he ignores.

“What’d you get?” Mica asks, reaching into the bag on the table and pulling out the two jackets. He lays them side-by-side on the table. “Matching outerwear?” He grins impishly. “How adorable.”

“Quiet, you,” I say, peeling myself off the wall.

“You get these from Copp?” Mica asks. “How was he? Were things… different?”

“At first,” I say, grabbing the navy jacket off the table. “But you know Copp. It didn’t take long for him to get back to normal. Can’t say the same for just about anyone else there, though. I must’ve gotten twenty death-stares.”

“Yeah, guess that figures. They’ll get over it,” Mica says with a shrug, before turning to Adam. “So, you’ve pretty much covered the whole town now, huh? Will you be leaving soon?”

Mica’s question sparks a flame of self-righteousness in my mind. There’s only so much to see in Sixteen. Adam’s going to leave—and soon. I was right to have stopped… us. But even though I planned it myself, I can’t stop my stomach from clenching up as I consider the fact that once he’s gone, he’ll be gone. Really gone. I know it’s not like when Gran died, or when Dad left, or even when Lee was killed, but the end result is still the same. We’ll probably never see Adam again.