Page 40 of Bound By Stars
I take a deep breath and lean over the table. “I know you generally prefer to pretend I’m not here, and you’ve made it absolutely clear how much you hate working with me, but if I’m going to help you prepare for this presentation, we’re going to have to talk eventually.” I open the file and slide my tablet across the table. “Think you could cut me some slack today and take a look at what I’ve written so far?”
She shifts her eyes to the tablet and then to my face. Her expression softens. “No need for all the drama. All you had to do was ask.”
I massage my forehead. “Do you have any clue how intimidating you are?”
She lowers her chin and glares at me through her dark eyelashes.
“Not in a bad way,” I add.
Some of the tension melts from her expression. “Likably intimidating? And here I thought I was just plain mean.”
“Oh, definitely that, too.” I brace myself, waiting for her deep-cutting retaliation.
She laughs, sitting back in her seat and scrutinizing me with tight eyes. Her mouth twists like she’s holding back a smile. Almost like she’s impressed.
Pulling the tablet closer, her eyes roam the screen before she points at the stylus in my hand, signaling for me to hand it over. Scribbling some notes, she slides them both back across the table and stands up to stretch. “You had a lot of the terminology wrong.”
“I mean, youwereignoring me the entire time I was working on it.” I had to look up her public contestant profile to get most of the information.
She huffs out a breath. “Okay, maybe it was alittleharsh giving you the silent treatment for five days when you didn’ttechnicallyaccuse me of anything.”
“Maybe a little.” I laugh, sliding onto a stool. Thinking better of lingering on her semi-apology too long, I ask, “Made any progress with the messaging?”
“I think so. I just have to finish this and…” She smacks the last key with her index finger. Looking up at ILSA, a full grin stretches across Weslie’s face. “…there. ILSA, please deliver my recent messages.”
“Message. From: Mom. Received eleven days ago. Dear Weslie, I hope this message gets to you before you’re out of range.”
“Yes!” Weslie leaps out of her seat, thrusting her arms into the air.
I wish I could have seen her build ILSA from the start. I can just imagine the look on her face when she booted up for the first time. The way her mask slips when she’s working. Completely possessed by equal parts curiosity and joy.
“I need you to knooo…” ILSA’s face goes blank, and the word turns into an uncomfortable long tone.
“No!” Weslie falls into the chair, eyes running over the code on her screen.
“All messages permanently deleted.”
“What? How? ILSA, Retrieve deleted messages!”
“Inaccessible. You have zero messages.”
She holds her face in her hands, so her growled words are muffled. “This doesn’t make sense!” Running her hands over her hair, she stands and brushes past me, close enough that I’m enveloped in the scent of floral soap, lilac maybe. But underneath the flowers, there’s still a hint of trees and sunlight like the best parts of Earth are infused into her freckled skin.
“Maybe they’re backed up on your comm,” I offer, shaking off the urge to breathe her in again.
“Unfortunately, ILSAismy comm.” She raises and twists her hands, bulky sleeves falling away from her bare wrists.
The sweater is practically swallowing her whole. She looks cute, and I have to fight the urge to say it out loud. Dammit, I have to get control over my thoughts. I cannot go there. Even if she weren’t from Earth, I couldn’t risk so much as a minor crush.
After an hour of switching between pacing and typing, she lays her head on the table.
“Any luck?”
Her body stays slumped over the table’s edge, only her eyes shifting toward me. “I don’t want to talk about it.” She sits up and closes her computer.
“Want to give the presentation a try?” I say with too much enthusiasm.
“Not really.”
