Page 15 of Bound By Stars
She’s not a mystery. She’s an Earther.One minute he’s smiling at me for insulting him and the next he’s offering me up for judgment to his elitist friends. And now, heactuallythinks I’m going to agree to work with him? Is he a walking contradiction or just that cruel?
“Are you finished looking?” Asha appears around the edge of the shelves.
I whip around, face instantly hot. “I wasn’t.”
She peers past me at Jupiter, fully absorbed in his drawing and unbothered by our exchange, and then she raises an eyebrow. “See anything you like?”
“Stop,” I say in my driest tone and move past her.
“Maybe I should…” She takes a slow step back down the aisle.
“No!” I snag the shoulder of her silver shirt and drag her around the corner with me as she breaks into a soft giggle.
As we exit the library, a tinkling bell rings overhead. If that’s an alarm, it doesn’t exactly inspire urgency.
“That’s the one-hour warning. We better dress for dinner.”
A laugh bursts out of me. That’s almost ridiculous enough to cheer me up from being assigned to babysit the Big Six prince.
Asha’s expression is serious. “They’re strict about evening wear on these ships.”
I glance down at my faded sweater and work pants, an old pair of Dad’s that hang precariously on my hips regardless of the electrical wire holding them up. This morning, I’d considered putting on something from my provided wardrobe, but it was all brand new, stiff, and unnervingly delicate. Even the thought of trying them on felt like giving up a piece of myself. And I’m not going to let any of this—the ship, the people, the experience—change who I am.
But dinner. The food. The beautiful, delicious food…in a giant room of stuck-up Elysians with their judgmental stares. I remember how the other students stepped away from me outside class like “Earther” is a disease.
No. Better to avoid anything with a dress code.
Chapter Seven
Jupiter
Thirty-five days to Mars
Of course, my parents are seated at the table in the center of the dining room. What fun is dragging your son back home to a future he doesn’t want if you can’t flaunt it in front of hundreds of the closest living humans? Skye and her parents join the table, everyone standing, pulling out chairs, and shaking hands. My mother cranes her long neck, surveying the busy space and searching for me. I lower my head and cut left toward my friends at the side of the room.
Tar pats my arm and leans over the empty seat to read the name projected on the plate before circling to find his place. “Who’s W. Fleet?”
“The Earther girl,” Curran replies, without looking up from typing on the tablet in his lap.
The Earther girl who’s unwillingly saving me from my mother. Not that she’s going to make it easy. Still, I’d rather convince her than be locked up in my family’s quarters with the tutor for the next month.
Hale leans back, precariously balancing on the back legs of his chair. “I’m not sure how I feel about being seated with an Earther.”
“She’s perfectly nice,” Asha assures him like it’s fear and not snobbery concerning Hale.
I squint at Asha, remembering the way Weslie ruthlessly blew me off after Calypso left the classroom.
Next to Asha, Tar laughs. “You think everyone’s nice.”
“I was more worried about fleas. We’ve all seen how they live.” Hale crosses his arms, rocking back further.
Hale’s limbs fly in all directions when I pull his seat back, holding him two feet from the floor. “And you think everyone is beneath you.”
“Will you let me up? She’s not coming anyway.” He uselessly tries to reach for the edge of the table.
I hoist him back upright and let the front legs of the chair fall to the floor.
Brushing her pink hair out of her face, Asha glances at the door with sad eyes. “Why?”
