There’s more sniffling. Then Zhang’s shouting things in the background that I can’t quite make out.
“I’ll do that. I should go. Bye, Atlanta.”
He hangs up, and I still have no breath. I don’t even remember how to breathe. Did that really happen? I clutch my phone to my chest. I want to call him back and say everything, but my circuits have stopped firing, playing one thing on repeat, furthering my paralysis.
He’s not going to be mine anymore.
I don’t turn off enough to sleep fully, but when do I ever?
So, I toss and turn, still in my clothes and jacket, mags belted to my waist, and work on trying to forget him.
CHAPTERTHREE
Treyu
I’m not going to bother getting out of bed. If I’m on restriction, fuck the world. I’ll stay right here. I know better than that, though. This is punishment, not a holiday. Uncle probably has something awful planned for our time in confinement.
He can drag me out of this bed by my ankle. I roll over and close my eyes. I’m going straight back to sleep.
A text comes through, interrupting my grand plan, and I’m too curious not to answer. Whoever’s texting me first thing in the morning either has a death wish or is death’s wish.
It’s Zhang.Ugh.I’ve told him not to text me unless it’s work-related since we have the misfortune of working together for all of eternity. I know this can’t be work-related. Uncle will have told the Guild immediately we’ve been pulled from the field. Our orders come from the Guild.
But my rivalry with Zhang has lasted too long for me not to react to anything and everything he does.
Okay, maybe Uncle has a point.
I catch the time as I open my phone. It’s not first thing in the morning. It’s late afternoon. Fuck. I’ve slept the day away. Not like me. Maybe I wasn’t left unaffected by getting part of my soul sapped away?
Running a hand through my hair, I open Zhang’s message.
Hey, babe, pack your shit. I’m coming to get you.
What?
The “babe” is definitely him poking fun at me for the little break-up scene he witnessed last night, but he’s coming to get me…?
Fuck off, Zhang.
I should block him. I would if I were allowed to.
Haha, babe. Very funny! You’re such a jokester. Be ready in thirty.
Is he high? No. He’s too much of a damn purist to get high or drunk. That’s my job. Maybe I’m high, and I don’t know it? Something isn’t right. Or maybe … maybe someone’s stolen his phone?
Whatever it is, I’m not awake enough for this. I need coffee, then I’ll deal with his hijinks.
I stumble down to the kitchen in pajama pants and leave my phone upstairs. We’re on a break. If I get another message like that from Zhang, I’m having him assessed by the Guild. It will ruin his chances of becoming an angel and he’ll have no one but himself to blame for whatever prank this is.
Atlanta stares into his coffee mug like someone shot his dog. He’s rougher than usual, still wearing the clothes from last night, minus his jacket and artillery. What is it with everyone today?
“Couldn’t sleep?” I ask.
He shakes his head. I’m not surprised, though. Does Atlanta ever really sleep? I’m surprised he can function. Yeah, he’s not human, but we stars still have limits.
Uncle Ryan enters, showcasing his “do not fuck with me this morning” eyes. Jeez, even his black goatee frowns just for me. “Why aren’t you dressed? Zhang will be here. Have you packed?”
“That was a real thing? I thought it was a joke.”
