Page 63 of Bound By Stars
Jupiter
Eighteen days to Mars
I’m the only one in the library aside from the librarian, who has finally stopped giving me the side-eye. My sketchbook lies open in front of me. I add a loose tendril of curly dark hair that never seems to stay behind Wes’s ear, imagining the way that porter—Reve, she called him—looked at her in that unfiltered way, like he wants her and he doesn’t care who sees it.
I slam the book closed.
They have more in common. They know each other. Hell, they live on the same planet.
I check my comm again. Ten ’til three. I tap the screen and whisper the message, “Message to Weslie. Don’t forget your presentation.”
Who am I, her mother?
“Delete message.”
Stacking my tablet and sketchbook, I tuck them under my arm and walk out of the library, heading toward the lab.
“Message to Weslie: want me there for your presentation?”
Now I just sound desperate.
“Delete message.”
I loop in a half circle until I’m headed in the opposite direction. If she wanted me there, she would have asked. “Message to Weslie: you’re going to do great. Send.”
My comm buzzes. I pull back my sleeve and tap it to view the message.
Weslie:Thanks. You coming?
When the lab door slides open, I expect Wes to be set up inside.
Tar and Asha are the only humans in the room. Perched on opposite sides of a table, Asha pulls a needle through the fabric in her hand and Tar scans his laptop with ILSA stationary beside him.
Two white dot eyes on her face screen shift to me. “Hello, Jupiter.”
Asha’s greeting is muffled by the pin she’s holding between her teeth.
Tar waves without lifting his gaze or speaking. He must be onto something.
Wes rushes in behind me.
“Cutting it a little close.” I eye the clock on the wall, failing to keep the bitterness out of my voice.
She frowns at me. “Six minutes. Plenty of time.”
“Want to try a run-through?” Setting my things down on the nearest table, I clear my throat too loudly, put my hands on my hips, and then shove them into my pockets, which feels equally wrong. I start to sit, decide against it, then slide onto the stool and fold my hands on the table.
Stop being so weird! She’s the same girl you’ve been working with for the last eleven days. And it’s not like she isn’t allowed to hang out with other guys. You aren’t dating. Hell, she doesn’t even like you!
I press my eyes shut and resist banging my forehead against the tabletop.
“Nah, it’ll make me more nervous.” She crosses the room, breezing past me, and glances at Tar’s laptop over his shoulder. “Are you reading ILSA’s code?”
Tar’s mouth opens and closes like he only just realized he might be overstepping. “I-I’m sorry. I should have asked. She’s incredible.”
Weslie smirks. “Except she’s kind of an asshole and can’t perform the simple functions of a comm device.”
ILSA pivots toward her. “You are the one who programmed me, Weslie.”
