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“Of course not,” they said at the same time.
“Fate,” Father said, “wouldn’t pit you against an adversary as mate. Trust your instincts while you help him grieve, as well. You’re excellent with emotional support.”
“He really is,” Mother cooed.
Father wiggled closer to the screen, grinning. “Now tell me all about your Owen.”
Heartened that I wasn’t doing anything wrong, I spent the next several minutes describing Owen to the delight of both my parents. We all agreed that his gentleness and need for compassion and support was the perfect fit for my rougher nature and desire to uplift those around me.
I didn’t tell them about his submissiveness in bed and how his sweet, slim body seemed made to receive me, but I was sure they could guess that we were an exact match there as well.
OWEN
I saw Doug and Ashley in the commissary again, but this time, they didn’t come over to sit with me. It had become a regular thing, several of us gathering whenever we found ourselves in there at the same time. We’d chat about innocent things, nothing about the bomb or politics. That they’d broken with tradition made me wonder if they’d given up on getting an interview out of me.
I was a little disappointed that friendship hadn’t been what we’d been doing, but also… Maybe it was time to stop avoiding the issue. Maybe I just needed to rip the bandage off and really talk to them.
I couldn’t eat anything after that, a turn of events that Ensign Codisin mentioned as we were the last to leave the commissary. “Are you alright, Owen? You hardly ate.”
I had to clear my throat a couple of times before I could say, “Can you take me to wherever the news crew is filming?”
They patted my back and changed direction.
By the time we arrived outside a set of double doors with a human standing in front of them, my heart was pounding and my hands were sweating. Could you die from trembling? Maybe I’d pass out first and go peacefully.
“Hi there,” a woman my age said with a smile as she flung long braids over her shoulder. “I’m Sandra, an intern with PBS News. How can I help you?”
I kind of croaked at her before clearing my throat. “I’d like to talk to?—”
She held up a finger. “We’re filming a segment inside, so please keep your voice low.”
“Oh, sorry.” That explained her own low tone. “Um, I wanted to talk to Doug or Ashley.”
“About your experience the other day?”
She didn’t recognize me. Normally, I’d be thrilled by that, but it probably wasn’t something that would last much longer.
“I’m Owen Devin.”
The only thing that betrayed her surprise was a brief hop of her eyebrows. Her smile remained fixed, and I had a feeling she’d be a great news anchor someday.
“Okay,” she said. “Hold on one second.”
She slipped through the doors, leaving me alone with the ensign.
“You don’t have to stay,” I said quietly up at Ensign Codisin. “I’ll go inside in a minute here. Probably. Unless they don’t want me to anymore? I don’t know actually. But I’d just go back to the room in that case. You’ve probably got better?—”
“It’s okay, Owen. I’ll stay,” they said with a small smile.
I sighed. “Thanks.”
Suddenly, Sandra opened one door wide and waved to us. “Come on in.”
I stepped inside but stopped short when I saw Brett’s giant head on the screen attached to the opposite wall. He hadn’t seen me yet because he was talking to someone near him about a quote on a piece of paper he held up. Had Doug and Ashley given up on me and turned to him instead?
“Owen, hey.” Doug came over with a smile on his face and his hand out to shake. “Thanks so much for coming in.”
I nodded and managed to shake his hand, but all I could think about was what would happen when Brett saw me. I hadn’t thought I’d have to confront him live like this. Was I up for such a fight?
