Vagabond (19 page)

I looked out over the water. The river wound a path of murky brown, but it took on the colors of the sun as it set. I took the bottle when he handed it to me. The liquid streaked fire down into my lungs and burned with memories of Polo.
 

“You get so sad when you remember people,” Ono said.
 

“How do you know I’m thinking of someone?”
 

“You have these wrinkles on your forehead. They only show up when your eyebrows try to meet. And your eyebrows only try to meet when you’re trying to remember someone.” He tapped the space above my brows with his forefinger. “It’s like everyone you’ve ever met out here is inside of everything you know about it. I’m guessing you’re remembering your friend Polo in that one sip of whiskey.” He took another swallow of whiskey and sighed. “You remember people often, and it makes me hope that one day, you’ll remember me. It makes me like you. It’s important to be remembered.”
 

“Thanks, I guess. You’re growing on me too.” When I smiled, I discovered it was genuine. Happiness is a sudden beast. All it took was one chink in the armor, and he worked his way onto my small list of people who mattered. That same list also reminded me that he’d be gone before I knew it. Everyone was always gone after a while.
 

“That scratch on your cheek is healing up pretty good.”
 

I reached up and touched where the boulder ripped into my face the first night we met. There was a slight scab, but the Neo-Spray had done its work.
 

Ono grabbed my hand again. The warmth of it was just as flammable as the whiskey we kept passing back and forth. This was different from the time I drank with Polo. That had just been a sip. These were thirsty gulps, and I felt the dizzy settle in. Ono felt it too and knew enough about liquor to think of safety. “Maybe we should get away from the ledge. I don’t think I trust myself to stay on it anymore.” We inched back on our bottoms, afraid to stand and fall in all the dizziness making the world move around us.
 

The sun was all but gone in the sky, and we felt our way back to our packs to pull out the sleeping bags. We spread them out under the ledge just under the tracks that hovered above us. We laid side by side, laughing between inches that felt like miles between us.
 

Celeste grinned, though I couldn’t see it. We’d heard the train coming from around the bend in the trees, and we rushed into the bridge-cave. “Lay down here,” she instructed, pointing to the rise in the concrete.
 

“Are you crazy?” I yelled.
 

“You already know the answer to that,” Xavi growled.
 

“It’s perfectly safe! Trust me!” She was already climbing up onto it, and Xavi followed her. There was a space between them that waited for me to fill it, so I did. I laid on my back and stared at the darkness above, trembling in terror. When the train came, Celeste let out a warrior cry. She let out all the tension and joy and fear and happiness all within one shrill howl. I clamped my mouth shut while Xavi just laughed and laughed.
 

The wheels ground on the metal and sent sparks like shooting stars around us. How did the wooden planks never catch on fire? The sparks were everywhere, and they showered down over us. It was the only thing I could see beyond the sound of the wheels on the tracks. It was as if the train had hooked onto my heart and dragged it along at a speed that should not have existed inside of my chest.
 

“The crazy thing is, this is slow!” Celeste yelled into my ear. “Think about how fast it would be if the Republic weren’t trying to check for bridges each time!”
 

But as slow as the train would have appeared had we been eye level with it, it could not compare to how fast it felt from underneath it— when we were trapped under it with no escape.
 

When we heard the train coming, his fingers found mine against the concrete. I knew it was a wild grasp, full of fear and confusion. “What do we do?” He asked. His voice faced mine in the dark, so I knew he was trying to see me. But the moon hadn’t risen high enough to provide any light yet, and everything felt a little too dark.
 

“We wait. We watch.”
 

He quieted and waited, and the train let out a wailing scream as it screeched along the metal rails. The sparks were the same shooting stars, and I heard his intake of breath. “It’s beautiful!” he yelled over the noise. Seconds passed, and there was a shift beside me. He inched closer and closed the space between our bodies so that it didn’t exist. “Can I?” he asked. He didn’t need to yell it, because he was so close I could almost feel the words on my skin. There was so much fear in them, but it was a fear I understood— the wanting of something so bad even though it was terrifyingly wrong. This want pulled me in too, so that the space between our mouths was narrow. It was the answer he needed.
 

He leaned in and laid a soft foundation of more. Tentative. Quick. Soft.
 

It was the type of first kiss I would have had back home after being partnered, where neither of us had ever kissed someone before. Xavi had dove in with force and knowledge on our first kiss, but it wasn’t fair to compare the two. No. Xavi could not be there in that moment, and I shoved him out of my head.
 

I couldn’t see Ono’s smile, but I felt it. I sensed it. The curl of his lips that were still so close but no longer touching mine. I propped myself up on my elbows and felt the concrete through the bag bite into the bareness of skin on bones. They screamed out at me, but something was screaming louder, even louder than the train racing just feet above our heads— a rush in my ear that went beyond heat and desire. I wanted more.
 

So I leaned in and kissed him. It was a soft kiss, like the one he’d given me. There was so much sweetness under all of our wanting. It shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. He pushed back harder with his mouth. Something instinctual pulled him into me, and his kiss grew raw. Our lips parted and the feel of his teeth and tongue and breath was infuriating, because, not even that was enough.
 

“Wait!” I pushed Xavi back with more force. He was heavy, and, for the first time, I felt afraid. He fumbled with my bra and tried to free my chest while he kissed along the edges. I squirmed and pushed him back with all the force I could muster, but he was just too heavy. Everything was too heavy. “Please. Xavi. Stop.” I whispered, because a scream wouldn’t work. I stopped moving, and that was what stopped him.
 

“What? What’s wrong?” I couldn’t tell if there was confusion, hurt, or anger in the question.
 

I sat up and grabbed for my shirt. “I can’t. I— I can’t.”
 

He didn’t say anything back. I could only hear his breathing. It was a breathing that was as heavy as he’d been on top of me. It filled up the entire tent, and all I could do was tug my shirt back on and unzip the tent flap to escape.
 

The train passed, but left so much momentum in its wake. Ono fumbled with buttons on my shirt, and I with his. Our fingers were clumsy, and we were distracted by the fire brewing between our mouths. Then belts and buckles made noises I never thought existed. It was as if desire had its own sounds made up of the way buckles chattered as the belt came unhinged and the zippers tore apart like wounds. I could feel the concrete under the blankets. I knew it was cold on my bare skin, but I couldn’t feel the chill. Everything about us was so full of heat that I could concentrate on nothing but the way his skin felt on mine and the way his mouth devoured the entire world. There was a sharpness to what followed, like knives cutting through flesh, but even that became swallowed by his mouth. And, just as quickly as it started, the momentum slowed so that Ono could fold me into the type of kisses that exist after hunger.
 

Chapter Thirteen

“Niko!” Berenike yelled. “This way!” But I’d already lost her in the crowd. On both sides of the stage, a montage showed Doctor Nicholas doing various things for the Republic. He’d done so much more than modify and breed out cancer that he was worth striving to be like, and I was not the only Citizen to claim him as my hero.

“Thank the Stars for the Scientists of the Republic,” a banner read over the stage. Lights were strung around the trees and awnings, and the music caused movement that was hypnotic. Paired couples danced together, while the younger Citizens danced alone, but everyone found a way to express their love of science through movement and laughter.
 

I loved this holiday. One day, I hoped to do more than even Doctor Nicholas. Not for the praise, but so Humanity could have more opportunities to celebrate— to do more than just survive. I paused to look at Doctor Nicholas in his white lab coat. He looked into a microscope and jotted down notes on his tablet. My mind traveled back in time with him, then into the future with me. There were still other mutations that were harmful to us. Maybe I could delete them all?
 

Berenike was gone, and I groaned. Finding her was going to be a mess. I’d promised Mama and Daddy I’d stay with her so that she could help keep me out of trouble. Little did they know, it was she who always got us into sticky situations. That time we climbed the water tower? Her idea. That time she stole the pig from the Science Hall and begged me to help hide it because it was too cute to be dissected? Yup. Berenike was written all over that idea.

And who got blamed?
 

“Niko. You’re slightly older, and far, far smarter. You know better,” Mama always said. Berenike never knew when to quit. She never knew when to take things seriously. I knew that the moment I let her out of my sight, something would go down. I searched the crowd and only saw swaying elbows. I joined in on the dance, if only to get through it easier. Sometimes moving into the flow of the mass was easier than trying to bulldoze through it.
 

The whole world was laughing. There’s a certain pride that happens to a group of people when celebrating discovery. The truth was, his victory was our victory. We weren’t just celebrating Doctor Nicholas alone. We celebrated his generation, and all the generations that led up to that moment.
 

The Nicholas Celebration reminded us what we fought for. It reminded us that every sacrifice meant something bigger than ourselves.
 

“Ono. We have to go.”
 

I peeked into the bridge-cave and tried not to blush. I’d picked up his clothes and folded them next to him, but he kept sleeping.
 

I left him to watch the sun rise over the water. The light was not kind on my eyes, and there was a pounding in my head that surpassed the pounding in my gut.
 

I thought about leaving him there. I thought about sneaking away.
 

What were we thinking?
 

Leaving would be the cowardly thing to do. I couldn’t do it. Or could I?
   

“Ono. Wake! Up!” I tried again.
 

I saw Berenike’s braids before I saw her face. The hair wove in and out of each other in black spirals. What was she doing under the stage? I moved past a few more elbows, but the closer I got, the harder it was to get through.
 

“Berenike!” I yelled, but she couldn’t hear me over the music.
 

I was almost there. I could see the back of her head more clearly. She was trying to hide behind a pillar under the stage, and I could only see her from just the right angle. I could see—
 

I couldn’t believe it. I rubbed at my eyes and tried to remove the atrocity I’d just witnessed. I pushed through the last of the crowd and tried to get to my friend— my friend who was kissing a boy.
 

But I wasn’t the only one who saw.
 

A soldier wearing black on black got their before I did.
 

We walked for a few hours before a train came.
 

I didn’t know what to say or what to feel. What we’d done was so wrong, and we both knew it.
 

I could tell he wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words either.
 

The silence twisted down on us like a roaring tornado. Part of me wanted to try it again. Part of me felt so ashamed for even thinking it.
 

It. Was. Just. Wrong.
 

“She’s been rehabilitated,” Daddy explained. “Sent to the 31
^st
. She won’t be sterilized, lucky for her.”
 

“Are you sure you didn’t see who the boy was?” Mama asked.
 

I shook my head. It wasn’t a lie. I only saw his shadow. He ran when he saw the soldier approach and just left Berenike to take all the blame. What was worse? Berenike wouldn’t say who it was. She claimed she didn’t know him.
 
Even still, Mama asked me prodding questions as if I was in on the secret— like I was hiding the truth on purpose.
 

“You know what she did was wrong, right?” Daddy continued.
 

 
“And on the Nicholas Celebration of all days? In front of people! What was the poor girl thinking? Why weren’t you there to stop her?” Mama moaned. I know it hurt her to lose Berenike. She’d been my best friend since we could crawl, and she’d always been so polite and good in front of my parents. This was more of a shock to them than it was to me. I should have seen the signs. She’d been dropping all kinds of hints, but I just brushed it off as crazy Berenike with her grande schemes and big dreams.
 

Rehabilitated. Better than executed. Maybe it’d help her see the error of her ways?