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That’s fantastic news. Maybe one of them will have a pregnancy test I can take. I knew a few girls I used to go to school with who carried around tests like they were breath mints. I’m sure even engineers are having sex, as logical as they may be.
I smile at Danya, grateful for the good news. “So, Tuesday I’m going to be making some new friends.”
He shrugs. “They’ll be working, but you can probably catch a few in the dining hall during meal hours. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner are all served there, but we have our own private area to eat with better food.”
“I’m not picky,” I say, although that’s the complete opposite of the truth.
“Suit yourself, but don’t blame me if you can’t stomach the gruel they’re eating. Ivan seems to think it tastes good, but I find it deplorable.”
I laugh. “It can’t be that bad.”
* * *
I discover as soonas Tuesday rolls around that itisthat bad. I can barely get my fork into the lump of tan mush, much less scoop up a bite to eat. I feel like I’ll choke if I try to eat it without an entire pitcher of water.
But the food isn’t why I’m here. I picked a table that was mostly occupied by women, sliding in next to one of the less intimidating ones and smiling at her as I tried to figure out if I should skip eating altogether.
One of the women, a tall girl with shirt hair and glasses, is having much less trouble with her food than I am. She’s chowing down like she hasn’t eaten in days. Maybe they starved her on the way here.
“Good stuff,” I say, lifting up my tray and letting out a nervous laugh.
She looks at me and frowns. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she says in a distinctly Russian accent.
“I was kidding, actually,” I say, putting my tray down and feeling hot embarrassment rush to my cheeks. “I just wanted to break the ice.”
“Ah, I see, another joke,” she says, raising her eyebrows without a hint of amusement.
“That one wasn’t supposed to be.”
A few of the others at the table look at me, but they don’t say anything. I wonder if they’re as shy as I am, or if I’m just being obnoxious. Maybe engineers don’t like talking. I’m going to be so screwed if they don’t like sex either.
“The name’s Yana,” the woman says, extending her hand to me.
I shake it, and she nearly crushes my fingers.
“Yana, that’s nice. My name is Taylor,” I say with a smile. I’m trying to be pleasant, but it’s difficult when everyone here has a permanent scowl on their face. I assume it’s a cultural thing at this point, but it’s still unsettling.
“Which unit are you in?” she asks, taking a sip of her drink.
“Unit?” I ask, unsure what she’s referring to.
“A, B, C… I hope you haven’t forgotten your unit already. You’ll be sleeping out in the snow if that’s the case.”
I laugh. “Oh, yeah, um… Unit B… I think.”
“Same as mine,” she says. “I guess that means we’ll be seeing each other on site.”
I nod, but I don’t have clue what she’s talking about. I need to pivot this conversation fast, or she’s going to figure out I have nothing to do with the diamond mine.
I clear my throat. “So, uh, a lot of nice guys around, huh?”
She wrinkles her nose. “Are you kidding me?”
A few of the others at the table snicker.
I roll my eyes. “Oh, come on. So, we’re going to be here for months, and nobody is having sex?”
Yana sighs. “Okay, yeah, I already figured out that the cook has a big dick, but don’t go chasing after my prospects. I’m not keen on catching whatever you have.”
