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“Oh, Captain!” she calls out again after me. “I mean, Jamef —”
“No,” I say flatly, not turning around.
“You don’t even know what I was going to ask!”
“And I don’t care. You’ve caused enough trouble so far and we’re close enough to Haal Ui that I’m perfectly willing to turn around and scrap the bounty. So unless you want to return to the station, think real hard about what you want to ask and if it’s worth it.” And I pause, waiting.
Rhonda is silent.
Thought so. I continue down the hall and towards the private quarters I share with my mates. I open the door and I’m not entirely surprised to see Bethiah on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with her arms supporting her horns. She glances over at me but doesn’t get up. “Are you coming to yell at me, too?”
“No. I thought I’d see if you want some noodles. I’m getting Dora some, too.”
She sits up, a worried look on her face. “How is she?”
“Hurt. Angry. Doesn’t want to see you anytime soon.” I lean against the wall across from her. “You want to tell me your side of it?”
Bethiah grimaces. “Honestly, Dora’s side is probably the right of it. I keffed things up. I’m not good at this whole ‘relationship’ thing. I’m sure you can ask Rhonda about that, too.”
“I’m asking you.”
She rubs her brow, giving her head a small shake. “It’s funny, because for ages, I imagined running into Rhonda again. How it would go. How she’d see that I had my own ship and I didn’t need her, and it’d make her want to be with me again. That I’d be so well off she’d realize I could take care of her and she’d reconsider and all those years we were apart would fall away like nothing.”
I tense. “How is that funny?”
She glances up at me, her smile crooked and wry. “It’s funny because she’s doing her best to show me that I’m her back-up plan and once upon a time, I’d have been giddy. But now I just kind of want to scream obscenities at her and shove her perfectly made-up face into a bowl of rancid noodles.”
“Specific.”
Bethiah nods. “Rancid noodles are a special kind of hell.” Her expression turns sad. “She’s only been here for a day and already the ship feels toxic and I hurt Dora and I hate myself for it and I just…” Her mouth trembles and for a moment, she looks more vulnerable than I’ve ever seen her. “I would just really like a hug and Dora would probably rather knife me.”
I move to her side and sit down. I think of a dozen clever things to say, and discard them all.
I simply hug her instead.
Eighty-Eight
BETHIAH
Well, at least Jamef doesn’t hate me. His hug is awkward, but it’s perfect at the same time, because he’s trying. I lean against him, feeling like the universe’s most selfish mate. Of course I should have said something to Dora about Rhonda coming on board. Someone that was thoughtful would have warned her, but she’s stuck with me.
And I don’t know how to make it better.
“This is stupid,” I grumble. “Dora’s being unreasonable to get mad at me over this. It’s not like I’m encouraging Rhonda.”
Jamef rubs my arm. “She might be unreasonable, but look at it from Dora’s perspective. She doesn’t know what memories she has or that she lacks. She’s probably missing experience that you and I both have to think about this rationally. Remember that her memories are piecemeal at best. Of course she’s going to be unreasonable. She feels threatened.” He leans against me, nudging me. “What’s your excuse?”
“That I’m a jerk.”
He laughs, pulling me closer. I’m a little surprised that Jamef is so touchy-feely, but I kind of like it. Maybe it’s Dora’s influence on him. I let him pull me into his arms and lean against him, enjoying the scent of his skin and the contrast of his metal prosthetics with his warmth. “If you’re done feeling sorry for yourself, you can come help me work on the bridge. I’ve found out some interesting things about Rhonda’s master but I want a second opinion.”
“Ugh. Fine. I guess I have to do everything,” I mock grumble. I still feel like a jerk, though. I didn’t think about Dora and her memories—or lack thereof. Of course she’s anxious. She’s been anxious since she joined me, worried about finding her place. This sure isn’t helping.
Jamef gets to his feet, running his fingers through my ponytail, and then gestures that I should follow him. I put on fresh clothes first, but when I don’t find my shoes, I skip them instead of hunting for them. Let everyone be grossed out by my bare feet. I don’t care. I follow him into the mess hall and watch, grumpy, as he puts one bowl under the dispenser, then a second. When he fills the third, I give him a weird look. He must be hungry. And then I feel guilty all over again. Is something going on with Jamef and I’m so wrapped up with Dora that I haven’t even noticed?
