Remy
The Senator hadn’t come back to the children’s room for the past two days. Either he was really busy, or he’d been ordered to stay away . . . or he was avoiding me. As I stood in line for breakfast, I wondered if I’d see him today. Truth was, I desperately missed human interaction, which was ironic because he wasn’t a freaking human, but he’s the only “person” who wanted to chat me up these days. Nobody at Primo Town would talk to me for more than a few seconds, and I understood their fear.
I sat with my watery scrambled eggs and dense brown bread. We even had weak black coffee, which I didn’t love, but I drank in honor of Amber. I missed sugar though. The loose jeans I’d been wearing when I arrived, were falling off me. When I asked one of the female guards if I could have a belt or a scrap of fabric to use as a belt, she brought me a dress instead. Like, something from Little House on the Prairie minus the neck ruffles. Not even kidding.
I wore it at breakfast, noticing how half the other women wore them too. They looked homemade from random materials, and I realized that some of the Primo Town sewers had made them. Mine was plain, short sleeved, coming down past my knees. Lovely how the Baelese wanted to keep its humans in high fashion.
When a plate landed next to me, I startled and looked up, stomach jumping to see Tater’s stern face. He was sexy, no doubt about it. I could stare at his wavy brown hair, chocolately eyes, tanned skin, and lean muscles all day. The shape of his face was gorgeously squared in all the right places. I just wished I could hear his loud, carefree laugh again—a chortle that always changed his face into something so striking I couldn’t tear my eyes away.
I quickly looked back at my plate, pretending to be disinterested as I took a bite.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered to my food.
“Checking on you,” he said in a low voice to his own food, shoveling in a mouthful.
We had agreed not to sit together. Not to speak. Not to act like we were close. To have him so near, to hear his voice and know he was concerned, it made me tearful. I sniffed and swallowed, taking another bite. We’d left things between us in limbo back at Dugway. Our relationship had been complex anyway, but now I didn’t know where he stood, except that he cared for me and I cared for him. Maybe it was better that way.
“I’m doing okay,” I whispered. “Are you?”
He didn’t answer, instead pressing for more from me. “I heard he’s been talking to you.”
He didn’t need to say Senator Navis’s name. I refused to call him Bahntan. Apparently Tater and Linette found time to talk these days.
“Yeah, but nothing important,” I assured him. We spent the next minute in silence, looking straight forward as the patrol guards passed us. A bout of loneliness overwhelmed me.
“I miss you.” It slipped out of my lips, making my grip tighten on my fork as I waited. I shouldn’t have said that. What was wrong with me? When he didn’t respond, I risked a peek, and my chest squeezed to see his jaw locked, lips pursed. It was the look of anger I’d become acquainted with the past six months, and it scared me more than anything. Taterhadto behave. He had to survive this with me.
“Everything is going to work out,” I promised, though I had no idea if it would. “Please don’t give up. Don’t let them see the real you.” His jaw finally loosened, and I exhaled.
We both took another bite. And then another. Others around us were already finishing and washing their dishes. Once Tater and I were done, we would not be allowed to linger.
I slowly chewed my last bite of bread as Tater cleared the rest of his plate. Just before he stood, he said, “Please, be careful,” and then he left me.
Tater was still on my mind when I got to work. I prayed and prayed that he wouldn’t lose it and freak out, getting himself killed. I had no idea if or when we’d ever get out of here. For all I knew, we’d grow old in this encampment, but I had to hope for more. Hope was all I had. I just wished I could give some of that optimism to Tater.
My mind was in a worried fog throughout the morning’s lesson. When it was lunch time, I started to pull out my paper bag with a peanut butter sandwich, until I looked up and saw Senator Navis walking in carrying a tray of food in each hand. I glanced around to see who he might be heading for, but the only person there was me. The children had filtered out, and two guards stood by the open doors.
I got to my feet to greet him, feeling suddenly self conscious of how I might look in the plain, light blue dress. Come to think of it, if they’d given me a white apron, I’d look like Alice in Wonderland. Great.
He walked straight to me, eyeing me up and down before setting down the two trays. I wondered who he was expecting for lunch, and why he’d chosen this room. I remembered passing an ornate dining room on my first day. My mouth watered at the slices of beef with gravy and mashed potatoes with green beans. We definitely weren’t eating like this over at Primo Town. I looked up at him, clasping my hands in front of me.
“Hello, Senator Navis. I hope you’re well.”
“Very well, thank you. I was hoping you’d have lunch with me.”
That food was forme?Hold it together, Remy.
“I . . . are you sure?” I didn’t dare look at the trays again. It was killing me to smell them. I had no doubt they allowed the use of salt for the aliens.
“Of course.” He motioned to my chair. “Please, have a seat.”
I did, feeling awkward. I took the napkin on the tray with a shaking hand and placed it over my lap. I waited for him to begin, and then I took my fork and knife, carefully slicing a bite of meat and bringing it to my mouth.
Oh. . . . holy . . . wow. Flavor! My eyes watered a little, and I felt ashamed. But it tasted like my mom’s Sunday roast. I brought the napkin to my mouth as I chewed, praying the bout of reminiscing would subside quickly.
“Is it okay?” he asked with concern.
I swallowed and gave him a bashful smile. “More than okay. Thank you.”
