Verita (23 page)

“What?” His unexpected words make me turn back to face him.

“My mother. She wasn’t in the car during the accident. She was at home when it happened.” His voice is just above a choked whisper and tears glisten in his eyes.

As mad as I might be, I can’t ignore the painful admission he’s just made to me. “Then what happened to her?” I step closer, but resist my urge to comfort him.

“My mom had always been a strong woman, but after the accident, she was amazing. She never broke down or fell apart. She focused her energy on taking care of me, of making sure I was okay.” He stops to stifle a sob. “Lauren tried to warn me that something was wrong. Even over the phone she could tell. My mom wasn’t coping, but I was too wrapped up in my own emotions to notice. By the time I realized anything was really wrong, she had already been fired from her job and was a full-blown alcoholic.” Ryan looks away from me. He looks thoroughly disgusted with himself.

I place a hand on his shoulder. “Ryan, I’m so sorry—”

He pulls away from me before I can finish.

“No. I don’t want or deserve your pity. When I finally figured out what was going on, I searched the house and poured every bottle of alcohol down the drain, took her keys, and went to school. I thought that would be enough to keep her safe, but I was wrong. I must have missed a bottle. The fire marshal thinks she passed out with a lit cigarette in her hand—” Ryan’s voice trails off. He is unable to continue, but he doesn’t need to.

I foolishly just stand and stare at him. What do you say to someone who blames himself for his mom’s death? He didn’t want my pity, and I didn’t understand just why he was telling me all this right now.

Slowly, Ryan regains his composure. He looks back up at me and continues, “I stood back and did nothing while my mother destroyed herself by drinking her grief away. I can’t let that happen again. I can’t sit back and let someone else I care about get hurt. Not if there’s anything I can do about it.”

“Oh.” The point of his story drives home. “I don’t know what I can do to convince you that I don’t have a death wish, consciously or subconsciously.” I look up into his eyes, willing him to see that I’m telling the truth.

“I know,” he quietly admits. “I just need you to understand why I did what I did. I’m not after your job or even resentful that you have it. You have every reason to hate me.” He sighs and runs a hand though his hair, looking at me remorsefully.

I just stare at him with my mouth wide open. I’m unable to form any words. I want to stay mad at him. It’s easier than dealing with the mix of emotions welling up inside of me. All of the last few days’ events come crashing back down on me. I just want to curl up into a tiny ball and disappear. I want to be back at home in my bed, with my mom holding me and saying everything will be okay. But that’s not possible.

“I don’t want to fight anymore,” I admit as a torrent of tears burst from me. Ryan wraps me in his arms, and I cry into his chest.

By the time I’ve calmed down, I realize we’ve walked back to my rock. It easily seats the two of us. I spend the rest of the night talking with Ryan about the plane crash that led me here, what happened in the field, its aftermath, and my dinner with Brody. He calls himself, and later Brody, a dunce. He claims the proper response would have been to punch the first guy who uttered the word bitch. I’m relieved Ryan is staying in our team. But I can’t help but wonder how our work relationship is going to change now we’ve seen each other so vulnerable.

Before I have any time to truly ponder my new worry, Ryan points up at the tree. I’m surprised to see it has an iridescent glow at night. I look up in awe. Ryan explains he would never have discovered it if not for me. During our first field visit, he watched me, knowing I was fighting the temptation to pick a flower. He realized it would make a good landscaping tree, and decided to study it. It wasn’t until he brought the sapling to the bio-dome that he discovered the iridescence. When he told Dr. Brant about it, she wanted it next to her office, but he managed to convince her that it would be better to plant it away from any buildings initially, just in case the roots proved to be more invasive than he predicted.

“It’s pretty,” I whisper, leaning against Ryan.

The illuminated branches somehow take all my worries away with them.

Chapter 16

The next night, Brody finds me on the way back to my dorm, and asks me to talk. We stand for several minutes: all he does is look at me through pleading eyes. Finally, he blurts, “I’m sorry for being such a guy.”

“Is that your idea of an apology?” I ask, offended. I cross my arms and glare at him.

“Well, yeah.” He shrugs, looking uncomfortable under my stare.

“You’ll need to do better than that.”

I start to walk away. I’ve just finished jogging and want a shower.

He catches up with me and grabs my hand. “Look, I’m sorry. You don’t know what it’s like getting harassed by the other guys for what your girlfriend does.” His tone borders on whining, and it grates on my nerves.

I snatch my hand back. “Well you don’t know what it’s like to find out that your boyfriend is joining in with his buddies’ Neanderthal behavior instead of defending you.”

“I did defend you. That’s why they were harassing me so badly. They kept saying you had me whipped.” His eyes are pleading with me now.

“You know that’s not true,” I flatly respond.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t feel that way when you’re hearing it. I’m really sorry I took it out on you. Am I forgiven?” He grabs my hand again and flashes his cutest smile, the one that shows the dimple on his cheek.

“I’m thinking about it.” I don’t snatch my hand back this time.

He doesn’t give me a chance to decide. He pulls me towards him and wraps me in his arms. He takes a deep breath and moans. “You smell so good.” Before I can answer, his lips are covering mine. I kiss back, parting my lips for him. I had almost forgotten how good his kisses are. I feel his hands wandering towards my shirt and grab them in mine, redirecting them to my waist. I hear him groan and then he pulls back.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he whispers.

“I’ve told you: I’m not ready yet,” I say patiently.

“What will it take to get you ready?” he says. His tone is a bit too demanding.

“I don’t want to be rushed or pressured.” Now I sound annoyed. We’ve been through this conversation before. “Do you really want to push the issue when I’ve barely forgiven you?”

“I just don’t want to be kept waiting forever,” he whispers in my ear. Then he starts nibbling my neck, and wandering his hands across my back.

“I’m not saying ‘forever’. I just want my first time to mean something. I want it to be with the person I know I’m going to grow old with,” I explain, but it sounds like an over-rehearsed line.

“Now who’s pressuring who?” he says teasingly.

“I’m not saying I want to get married or anything. I just want to be sure of our feelings for each other.”

“You know how I feel about you. What else is there to be sure about?” He starts to kiss lower and lower on my neck.

“Brody, I can’t have a serious conversation with you doing that,” I huff and push him away. “Look, all I want to do right now is take a shower. Pushing the issue is just going to make me mad,” I say, suddenly feeling drained.

“Sorry. I’ll let you go shower,” he says glumly as he pulls the door open for me.

I sigh to myself and walk inside. Why am I waiting? I’m really not sure anymore. Sure, Brody has his faults, but so do I. Besides, I like being with Brody and I want to be with Brody, so what’s holding me back? Why do I feel so afraid of making a commitment to him?

I head out with my team the next morning. Gregg is the new soldier assigned to us. Dean knows him, and assures us that he is level-headed. He looks more the soldier than Shane ever did. His short brown hair is shaved short, and he has a similar, but smaller, build than Dean. I just hope he shares Dean’s agility and intelligence.

I decide to give a wide berth to the
meerkit
area and totally re-work our search pattern on the grid. I just don’t know how welcome we will be, and I don’t want to find out the hard way.

We have barely entered the grid area when we hear cooing. Startled, we look up, but we don’t see any
meerkits
. We start to walk again, when suddenly there is a rustling noise behind me. I start to turn, but I’m hit on the shoulder by something warm and fuzzy. I freeze in astonishment, as I see the baby
meerkit
from the other day sitting on my shoulder. He coos again, and I instinctively coo back. I glance at his wrist and see his white diamond, confirming it’s the same
meerkit
. He explores my face again with his hands and then jumps onto Ryan’s shoulder and does the same. He jumps down and walks over to each remaining team member, sniffs at their feet. Then he leaps back into the trees.

I carefully watch Ryan’s face, trying to discern what he’s thinking. There has been a guarded comfort between us since the other day by the tree. He has seen me vulnerable and, in a way, it has brought us closer, but I can’t help wondering if he still harbors an ulterior motive and is just waiting for another opportunity to replace me as team lead. Seeing an amused expression on Ryan’s face, I finally say, “I guess we have a friend.”

I motion for everyone to continue on. The
meerkit
follows along in the trees, watching us. Later, we stop for lunch in a clearing. I’m happy to note that Gregg takes careful care to remove only what he is going to eat from his containers, and then reseals them.

The
meerkit
jumps down and investigates what we are eating.

“You
are
a mischievous little one. I can only imagine the capers you’ll get yourself into.” I hold out my hand and he rubs his head against it, the way a cat would.

“That’s not a bad name for him,” Ryan says, holding out his hand. “Come here, Caper.” The
meerkit
bounds over to Ryan and butts his head against Ryan’s hand. Caper has just become part of our team.

Now he meets us every morning as we exit the field lab. Caper alternates between following us in the trees and riding on our shoulders. He has even begun riding on Molly’s and Jake’s shoulders, but he is still too leery of Dean and Gregg to get too close to them.

Caper is riding on my shoulder as we approach a clearing in the woods. We can see glimpses of what looks like a giant green meadow. We quicken our pace to explore it, and that’s when Caper begins to act strangely. We stop and look around. We don’t see anything, but the dense underbrush of the forest is all around us.

“Let’s get to the meadow; we’ll have a better chance of seeing what’s coming at us.” I gesture in the direction of the meadow. At the same time, I try to calm Caper. Something has him really riled. He’s now standing on his hind legs and pulling my hair with his front paws. It’s starting to hurt.

Ryan looks back at me, ready to help, but I motion for him to continue on.

“It’s okay, Caper,” I coo. “As soon as we get to the meadow we will be safe. We’re only a few steps away.” My eyes are starting to tear from the pain in my scalp. “Ouch! Caper!” I yelp.

Caper has jumped onto my arm and sunk his teeth into my hand. I stare down at it in disbelief. “Everyone stop!” I yell in panic. Ryan is only a step away from the field. “Ryan, back up! It’s the meadow that Caper doesn’t like.”

“How can you tell?” Ryan steps back as he questions me. Unable to explain, I hold out my now bleeding hand. Ryan looks at me with apprehension. “Get that thing off of you before he bites you again.” He raises his hand to grab him, and I step back. The sudden hatred in Ryan’s eyes makes me feel afraid for Caper.

“He’s not going to! He’s trying to protect us!” I reach up, grab Caper, and cradle him in my arms. I stare Ryan down, warning him with my eyes to keep back. “Look: he’s calm now. He just doesn’t want us to go into that meadow.”

Ryan’s eyes narrow as he continues to stare at Caper. “You can’t know that. He’s an animal. He can’t understand what we’re saying or know what our intentions are.” Ryan starts to step towards me, and I continue to step back. In my peripheral vision, I notice Jake move toward me. His jaw is set, determination on his face.

“No one is going to touch Caper!” I curl myself around him protectively; my face and neck are only inches from his. I feel him bury his warm, furry face in my chest. “Everyone, step back now. You’re frightening Caper,” I warn.

Ryan gasps. “Brett, no!” His voice cracks and the words come out as soft squeak. He looks around wildly, trying to figure out what to do. He takes a step back toward the field. “We won’t hurt Caper, but you need to put him down now; it’s too dangerous.” I shake my head. He looks truly frightened. “Brett, please. Think about what you’re saying, about what you’re
doing
. There’s no way you can be sure of what frightened him. You have him right next to your throat. If whatever is scaring him returns, it’ll be a lot worse than having your hand bleed. So please,
please
put him down?” His voice, his eyes, and his body plead with me. I search my brain for a way to make him understand that Caper isn’t a danger to any of us.

“No,” I answer emphatically, unable to think of anything else to say.