Page 88 of Bound By Stars
Skye leans closer, lowering her voice. “Jupiter and I have only ever been friends, Weslie. And I’ve never seen him as happy as he is with you. It’s just a stupid business deal, and we can still—”
The lights flash and the bell sounds.
I stand, snatch my computer off the table, and race for the exit with ILSA on my heels.
“Weslie, I believe Skye was attempting to communicate with you. It is considered socially unacceptable to leave in the middle of polite conversation.”
“Don’t care.” Commanding ILSA into silent mode, I rush to the dining hall, grab whatever I can fit on a plate, and head out the door. I’ll eat in the escape pod bay, away from all these people.
“Miss, you’re supposed to keep dinnerware in the dining hall.” A porter with dark, curly hair and a plastic smile blocks the exit.
I stare straight into his dull blue eyes, hand him the plate, pile as much as I can in one hand, shove two mini cakes in my mouth, and grab a roll in my other hand, slipping it into my sweater pocket. “Sorry about that,” I say through my overly full mouth, crumbs flying out with the words.
He dusts off a bit of cake from his vest, and purses his lips, blinking slowly. “No problem.”
Huffing out a breath, I hurry around the corner and slam into a broad chest.
“Watch it, Earther!” a familiar voice snaps.
The tiny sandwiches and cupcakes I’d been holding fall to the floor, leaving a smear of yellow icing coating Curran’s medallion and the front of his white shirt.
My mouth falls open as I meet his eyes.
With obvious effort, he softens his expression. “I’m sorry, Weslie. You surprised me.”
Up to this moment, he’d never given any indication that he looked down on me for where I came from. But then, he didn’t say much at all. I had just assumed…since he’s close to Jupiter. But I’ve been wrong about a lot of things.
A trash bot cuts in between us, sweeping up the mess on the floor.
“It’s fine,” I choke out and push past him. “Let’s go, ILSA.”
By the time we get to the arboretum, I’ve finished the crushed roll I’d stashed in my pocket. The artificial wind carries the scent of eucalyptus from the quadrant of blue-green leaves. A holographic chickadee swoops over the path in front of me.
“Weslie…wait up.” Asha sounds out of breath. “I saved…you a spot…in the dining room…but you just left.”
“I’m done with that.”
She barely catches up by the time we get to the other side of the tree-filled garden, passing between the maple and pine quadrants and turning the corner into another hall. “Okay, no more dining room. I can understand that.” Her voice is sympathetic.
I speed up. I don’t want to hear another apology or condolences about getting caught in the middle of Jupiter and Skye’s engagement announcement. I don’t care anymore. Only seven more days until I’m off this ship and all these people are out of my life forever.
“Hey, can you slow down?” she calls after me. “I’m trying to—”
“Stop, Asha.” I whip back to face her. “I’m not one of you. You belong with the rest of them, so go back and leave me alone.”
She looks like I slapped her, eyes glistening instantly.
My chest tightens. I hate hurting her, but how do I know what’s real with these people? She’s Jupiter’s friend, not mine. Her, Tarak, Skye, all of them. Falling for Jupiter’s act was humiliating enough. I spin back around and keep walking.
Halfway into the escape pod bay, I freeze and put out a hand to signal to ILSA. Around the bend, Jupiter is waiting, sitting by the window with the best view of Mars, exactly where he knew I would go. I tiptoe back before he spots me, shaking my head. I should have stayed separate this entire trip. Now, there’s no escaping them.
I pass the door to the stairwell we took to the cargo bay together, remembering his hand in mine. I shake off the memory, and an idea forms in its place. I hit the button, and the door opens. The hall is clear in each direction. No one is around to see or stop me. Inside the stairwell, I listen for footsteps. It’s silent aside from the gentle hum of ILSA by my side.
At the bottom, ILSA and I enter the dingy gray cargo bay. Compared to the midday light settings upstairs, it feels darker than it was the other night. And eerily quiet. The kind of quiet that feels like it’s expanding in your ear canal, filling your head. I follow the path Jupiter and I took through the halls that night after dinner until I’m standing at the huge roll-up door across from the exit. I touch the panel on the wall next to it, but nothing happens.
If I can find a way in, I could dismantle all of them.
Farther down there’s a normal-size entrance with a small window in it. I try the control pad, but this door doesn’t budge, either.
