Page 15
“Fine. Ninety. Come, lovebirds, let’s seal the deal before I change my mind.”
The lingering heat of Cal’s mouth on his cheek plunged Roy deep into thought. He remained silent as Cal turned the ignition on.
“Everything okay?” Cal asked, his eyes fixed on the altitude indicator.
“Yeah.”
“I might die of old age before this thing reaches outer orbit,” he groaned. “Sorry. You sure?”
Roy hummed, watching the capital city’s skyline appear in their circular viewport. His throat tightened.
“Did I cross a line?” Cal asked quietly, steering left. A panther figurine sat on the dashboard’s edge, its head bobbing as the ship tilted. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. I should’ve asked you.”
“It’s fine. You got us a nice discount.” Roy let out a laugh, the back of his skull hitting the headrest.
After minor turbulence, they reached their destination—a bodyshop for repurposing spacecraft, located in the market district on the east end. Cal had sworn he could do it himself, but since Roy needed a full inspection for the insurance, he figured it would be best to leave it to a professional shop rather than tear it apart in his garage.
The docking area was wide and mostly empty. Cal took the opportunity and turned off the automatic guidance. His parking procedure was surprisingly smooth. Roy barely noticed when the chassis bumped into the asphalt below.
While the mechanic worked on the caravan, turning it into a tiny trade freighter, Roy and Cal walked through the market. Cal stopped in front of the hairdresser’s. It was a tiny shop hidden in the far corner of the market. Its wooden sign held its whole existence on a rusty chain, threatening to snap under the first speck of dust that tried to land on it.
“Would you mind if I made a quick stop?” Cal asked.
“Uh—sure?” Roy’s eyebrow jumped. “Take your time. I’ll wait outside.”
Propped against the brick wall of the shop, Roy thought about trade strategies, import taxes, permits he’d have to acquire, and the list of cat-sitting instructions for Buttercup. He barely registered the small brass bell ringing as Cal stepped outside.
Roy’s breath caught. The barber’s scissors had cut through Cal’s boyish, innocent look, leaving him with short sides and slightly longer waves on the top of his head. His features were accentuated, the shadow of dark blue stubble prominent on his jawline.
“What’s your verdict?” Cal grinned, spinning around.
“Uh.” Roy shifted his weight, forcing his mouth closed. “Good. Really good.”
“That might be the best compliment I’ll ever get from you, huh?” Cal laughed and tugged on Roy’s sleeve. “Come on. Let’s get the ship and head back home.”
Roy gawked. The lightness with which Cal called his humble cabin home deepened the pit in his chest.
Before embarking on the first business trip, Roy patted Buttercup’s head. “I’ll miss you, girl,” he whispered into her silky fur. He glanced at Uros, seated by Adria at the dinner table, patiently helping her read the picture book Cal had found in Wedunia’s market. Under that calm surface, Roy suspected a volcano ready to burst. Uros was barely eighteen, snatched from his home, forced to take care of his sister—and now Buttercup was added to his list of responsibilities.
“Hey.” Roy sauntered over and adjusted his backpack. “You okay?”
Stopping mid-sentence, Uros lifted his gaze. A gloss coated his violet irises, which he blinked away quickly. “Sure.”
“You know, when we get back, you should get some rest. Maybe you could take my bike—”
“Thanks,” Uros snapped, his mouth taut. “I would prefer to rescue my parents, but sure, a bike trip around a foreign planet sounds nice, too.”
Roy swallowed his words. “We’ll be back as soon as possible, okay?”
Uros shrugged, returning his attention to the book. He traced the little pirate ship depicted on the page with his fingertips, his throat bobbing.
Adria tugged on his ponytail. “What’s that letter?”
“That’s an ø.” Uros sighed, putting an arm around Adria’s shoulder. “See? You have to do this shape with your mouth. Like you’re about to puke.”
