Unravel (40 page)

“Why would he get bored of you?” Felicia's voice was quietly curious.

Elissa swiped furiously at her eyes. “Because—”
Because I'm not superpowered or highly skilled or trained or clever. Because for years I was just Bruce's little sister. Because . . .
“Because I'm just me!” she burst out. “And he—he's
Cadan
.”

Lin thrust a handful of tissues at her. Elissa pulled one from her sister's fingers and blew her nose, then grabbed another two to mop her eyes, feeling her face scorch, knowing she'd betrayed all sorts of things she'd been trying to keep hidden, wishing it wasn't so obvious, hoping that maybe they hadn't worked it out.

But, of course, because Lin was there, and because Lin had no social filters . . .

“It's not
Cadan
who doesn't think you're good enough,” she said, in a voice of pleased discovery. “It's you.”

Elissa grabbed another tissue and blew her nose again to avoid answering. Or looking up. Or even having to acknowledge that she was still in the
room
.

“You should
definitely
talk to him,” said Lin.

An unexpected laugh got mixed up with Elissa's nose blowing, and she kind of snorted into the tissue. “You
think
?”

“She's right, though,” said Felicia. “And, you know, Lissa? Cadan—he likes things to be . . . clear, exact. He's learned to deal with shades of gray, but he's not any more comfortable with them than you are. If you haven't told him how
you
feel, then”—she shrugged her unhurt shoulder—“well, it might be helpful.”

“Oh jeez, he
knows
how I feel.”

Felicia looked at her.

“No, honestly. He
must
know. I mean . . .”

“Guys aren't always all that secure either,” said Ivan. There was a glint of mockery in his eyes.

“I
know
that. I've
read
stuff. I . . . just . . . this is
Cadan
.”

Ivan smiled at her, and the mockery had gone. “Yeah, we know,” he said. “But trust me, honey. Tell him, all the same.”

THE FIRST
time Elissa had walked up the long spiral of the main corridor leading through the center of the
Phoenix
and up to the flight deck in the nose of the ship, she'd been a fugitive, on the ship because she and Lin had nowhere else to go. And she'd been tense all over, unwilling to see Cadan and sure he would be anything but pleased to see her invading the captain's space.

A million things had changed since then, but still, here she was once more, butterflies in her belly, nervous sweat prickling the palms of her hands. It had been easier—maybe—when she was sure she knew exactly what he thought of her, and when she'd at least been able to pretend she didn't care.

She wasn't even sure what to say to him.
I'm sorry
would be a start, she knew—she shouldn't have walked out on him in the hospital lobby—but
oh
, it all felt so much more complicated than the sort of ordinary fight she remembered having with friends, or the brother-sister bickering she and Bruce
had done.
And telling him what I feel, what I want . . . opening up to him the way Ivan and Felicia said I should . . .
She didn't just feel nervous. She felt kind of sick.

The overhead door to the flight deck came into view at the end of the corridor, set into the ceiling at the top of a short flight of stairs. Cadan had kissed her here once—the first time he'd ever kissed her, the first time he'd said he loved her. The ship had been under fire, the shields deteriorating moment by moment, and for a few seconds it hadn't even mattered.

The corners of her mouth twitched suddenly downward, and the back of her eyes stung.
For God's sake, Lissa.
At the point she was thinking about, she and Cadan—and Lin and the crew as well—had been
this close
to being killed. It was
stupid
to remember those few moments with longing.

She blinked until the stinging in her eyes dissolved, gritted her teeth, and touched the doorpad that would open the door and let her through onto the flight deck.

The door snapped open, like the iris of a silver eye widening to nothing but a thin, gleaming rim. Above Elissa, star-filled space showed through the glass walls and ceiling of the flight deck, providing the giant eye with a pupil like a bottomless well full of dark, silver-glinting water.

She climbed up. Her head emerged, and the first vertiginous moment of feeling that if she let go she would fall and fall into that endless sky gave way to the correct perspective as the flight deck spread out around her. The bridge stood in front of her on its shoulder-high platform: the platform that was the exterior of the chamber that housed the now-defunct hyperdrive—and had imprisoned the tortured, dying Spare who had powered it.

A glass barrier rose to the ceiling all the way around the
bridge. Treated to eliminate reflections, it was almost as invisible as a force field. A short flight of steps led to a security-locked door in it. Elissa climbed the steps, butterflies flipping and flapping inside her, and pressed the buzzer to get Cadan's attention.

He and Markus were sitting at the wide control panel, on the other side of the safety rail that ran along the back of the row of seats. It was Cadan who turned to see who their visitor was, and the moment he saw Elissa he pushed the button to let her in.

Some of the butterflies seemed to leave Elissa's body on an involuntary sigh of relief. She'd half thought he might tell her to go away—he was, after all,
busy
flying the ship.

There was some reticence in his eyes as they met hers, a slight stiffness about his mouth, but he smiled all the same. “Hey.” He turned to Markus. “You could take a break now. Lissa can keep me company.”

Unlike Ivan would have, Markus didn't offer any comment. He grinned at Elissa as he got up and came around the end of the safety rail. “The others are still in the lounge?”

She nodded. “Ivan was going to take them doughnuts.”

“Doughnuts, huh?”

Even through her nerves, she managed to smile at him. “Lin was helping him. If you want one, you're going to have to go fast.”

Markus laughed. “Yeah, and I've got no one to blame but myself. I should never have introduced that girl to the realization she has a sweet tooth.”

As the flight-deck door clamped shut above his head, Elissa turned, her hands clenching nervously in her pockets, to look at Cadan.

But before she could gather the words she needed to say, he spoke. “I'm sorry. I wanted to say it the minute you'd gone. I should never have talked to you like that.”

She felt herself flush. She hadn't expected him to give such a comprehensive apology. Hadn't even been sure if he'd feel he should apologize at all.

She walked over to the end of the safety rail. It was cool and smooth beneath the sweaty palms of her hands. “I came to say sorry to you.”

A smile flashed over his face. “Thanks.” And now he flushed too. “I didn't have any right to act jealous of you. I knew I shouldn't have done it, but I . . .” He gave an uncomfortable shrug. “I'm sorry. That's all.”

Tell him what you feel. Guys aren't always that secure either.
She swallowed. “Cadan, me talking to Ady . . . it's completely not 'cause I, you know, like him better than you or something. . . .”

Her voice trailed off, but Cadan was already waving a dismissive hand. “Lis, it's okay. Like I said, I don't have any right to object.”

Not that secure. Yeah, right. He's so secure he not only doesn't need reassurance, he can't even stand to hear it!
A frustration that over the last couple of days had become all too familiar bubbled within her. “Well, you kind of
do
,” she said. “If I
did
like him better, I mean. Given that I'm, like, dating
you
, not him.”

Cadan shrugged again, looking even more uncomfortable.

“What?”
The frustration leaked into her voice. “What's wrong with that?
Why
are you disagreeing with me?”

“Well, it's not like I own you, is it?”

“No. But, jeez, it's not about owning. We're
dating
. Doesn't that—” A sudden plunge of fear turned her stomach over.
“Hang on, what do you even
mean
? Is there someone
you
like more than me?”

The shock that flashed instantly over his face made her feel better. “God, Lis, no. Absolutely not. There's no one.”

“Well then, what's going on? I mean, we're dating, but you—you acted like it was more than
just
dating, you said it was serious—you said I was the first girl you'd brought home.
You
said that. But the way you keep talking, it's like you don't
want
to act like it's a relationship—it's like you want to treat it as some kind of—of temporary hookup.”

“I don't.” He said that with so much force it almost made her jump. “I wouldn't treat you like that, Lissa.”

“Then what's going
on
? I don't understand. It's serious but it's not, and it's not a casual thing but you're not allowed to get jealous? I mean, that doesn't even make sense!”

I don't care what Ivan said. No
way
am I going to tell him how I feel when he keeps doing this!
She glared at him. “You just keep contradicting yourself, and I don't know where I am—where
we
are—and I don't know what you're trying to say!”

Cadan shoved a hand through his hair. “Hell. Lis, I'm sorry. I never meant to leave you so confused. Look, the thing is, I don't know where we are either. I don't want to assume you're in the same place I am, or be too intense, or push you into . . . I don't know, something you're not ready for. So I'm kind of . . . flying blind here. I'm trying to . . . I don't want to—”

But that was one interrupted sentence too many. Elissa lost all patience. She caught herself on the edge of stamping her foot the way she would have done a few years ago. “Oh my God,
what
same place?
What
thing I'm not ready for? And you haven't tried to push me into
anything
. Why are you
acting like it's a problem that you love me? For goodness' sake, I love
you
, don't I?”

It was the look on his face that brought her up short. “
Now
what? What is it?”

“You never said that before,” he said.

“I—what? Of course I have.”

“You haven't.” His mouth quirked in a half-suppressed grin, as if he knew this
really
wasn't the time to make her think he was laughing at her. “Trust me, babe, I've been watching out for it.”

“But . . .” She shook her head, bewildered, sure he must be wrong. “But—but even if I didn't, you must have
known
?”

“Well”—there was that grin again—“I was hoping, yeah. But no, Lis, I didn't know. You didn't say. I may be capable of arrogance, but I'm hardly arrogant enough to assume something like that.”

She was still staring at him, still disbelieving, running through in her head all the times they'd been together, trying to remember what she
had
said to him. “I
did
say it, Cadan. I
did
—back when you first told me. I said I'd been in love with you since I was thirteen.”

“No,” said Cadan.

“I
did
. I
remember
—”

“ ‘I was in love with you when I was thirteen,' ” said Cadan, his inflections making the words a quotation. “Not ‘since.' ‘
When.' 
”

“But I said—I said . . .” Okay, she couldn't remember now exactly what she had said, but surely . . . “But wasn't it obvious? Wasn't it obvious what I meant?”

“Like I said, I hoped. But jeez, Lissa, it's such early days. Especially for you . . .”

So here they were again. The familiar cold, the feeling of being pushed away, seeped through her.

“What does that mean?” she said, hearing her voice change, hearing the cold seep into it, too, making it stiffen and crack.

“Lis? What's wrong?”

It wasn't cold making her voice crack. It was tears. “You keep saying that,” she said. “Like it means I can't feel anything real. Like because I'm not fully grown-up I can't know what's genuine, like I don't even know what I want.”

Cadan looked thunderstruck. “Lis, I
never
thought that. I don't even— God, whatever have I said to make you think that's what I think of you?”