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He exhales, then sits down on the edge of his bed. “Because of last week. Because of the media circus. It’s not going to go away anytime soon, and things are only going to ramp up. There’s the trial, for starters.”
A lump forms in my throat. I knew there was going to be a trial eventually, but it just seemed like such a far-off concept. Nebulous. When Xavian puts it like that, though, I’m reminded that what happened was very real and that this isn’t like all the other perceived scandals I’ve been involved in. He’s right. It won’t blow away like smoke. The fallout is going to be huge, and I’m going to have to endure more cameras in my face, and not for the right reasons, either.
“I should have known they wouldn’t keep their promise,” I say, unable to keep sadness from slipping into my voice. There’s no hiding anything from Xavian, anyway. Not when he can pick up on my mood just from the way I walk into a room. Living together has ruined all my mystique.
The kindness in his gaze almost takes me out. After dealing with my team for the past three years, it’s rare to find a single kind soul. It’s a cutthroat business, after all.
“It’s fine. I kind of knew it was coming.”But it still sucks,I want to say. And yes, a large part of me wants to bawl my eyes out, because I was going to finally get what I’ve always wanted and now the rug is being pulled out from under me. It’s not fair. None of the shit that’s happened to me lately has been fair.
“You’re taking this well,” he says, watching me carefully. “Listen, if you want to talk about it—”
“Nope. I’m done talking. Let’s just go watch a movie.” I start for the living room, but he darts forward and grabs onto my wrist, pulling me back against his chest. Damn, he’s fast. I sigh. Athletes.
“Let’s go for a walk instead,” he suggests, then passes me to head for the front door. He grabs a Terraball cap from the sofa and slips it on. “It’s a nice day. A little cool out, so you’ll need your hoodie. I mean, you need it anyway, along with those chunky sunglasses of yours.”
“I’m not allowed to leave, remember? I’m on house arrest until Margot and Luthor decide it’s okay for people to know I’m here. Which … probably won’t be for a while.” Honestly, if they were going to have me cooped up somewhere, it would have been nicer of them to send me to a tropical planet so I could at least access the beach. But no. It had to be downtown Toronto.
“I won’t tell if you won’t,” he says, shooting me a boyish grin. Typically, I think ball caps look pretty dumb on guys, but typical of Xavian, he is the exception to the rule. He looks gorgeous, wearing a tight black T-shirt that makes him look like a model, his blond waves cascading down his chiseled shoulders.
“Fine,” I say, then grab the hoodie from the coat rack and pull it on. Xav lifts my hood up and over my face playfully, and I hiss at him like a high-strung cat.
“Aaaaand this is why we’re going on a walk, princess. Calm down. We need to get you a piece of fruit or something,” he mutters. But the kitchen doesn’t have anything nutritious in it right now, so we leave the apartment instead.
* * *
“What are your plans for Thanksgiving?” I ask as we reach the corner. It’s been ages since I’ve walked down a city sidewalk. The last time was with Xavian, too, after we ate at the noodle place—when Lacie interrupted our meal and we saw the record player. My heart warms from the memory.
“What?” Xavian looks down at me, his hands still inside his jean pockets. For the past ten minutes of our walk, I’ve been hoping he’ll hold my hand first, too nervous to initiate physical contact. “Canadian Thanksgiving was a couple of weeks ago.”
I blink. “Wait, what? There’s a Canadian Thanksgiving?”
He laughs. “Geez. Do they not have a decent education system up there on the moon?”
My heart drops into my stomach, along with my smile. He notices the shift in my energy immediately, and his mouth falls open. “Oh, shit … I’m … I’m so sorry, Em. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine,” I say. “Um, no, actually. My school wasn’t very good. None of them are. We had very poor funding.” And now with the war … it’s only going to get worse. Those poor Lunan children. We never really stood a chance. I only got out because I was lucky. It wasn’t my talent that got me off the moon; it was because I was in the right place at the right time. That’s all.
“We learned our Universal alphabet, and some math. But other than that, nope.” I laugh, but it’s so fake sounding that even people passing us on the street do a double take.
Xavian looms closer, like he wants to touch me but he’s talking himself out of it. Right. We’re in public. And even if I’m in a disguise, there’s still that one percent chance someone might recognize me, and if they see me holding hands with some guy, I’m fucked.
“No history. Got it,” he says nonchalantly. “Terrans didn’t learn much about Luna, either. Around here, we focused mainly on Canadian history, some American.” He’s trying to make me feel better, but for some reason, I just feel worse.
“You missed Canadian Thanksgiving,” I say. “I’m sorry.”
He cants his head and says, “What? Why would you be sorry?”
“Because you missed it. Don’t you have any family to spend it with?”
Xavian considers my question for a moment, and the light hovering twenty feet above us turns green. Now that the streets are made exclusively for pedestrians, there’s no reason we even needed to stop here, but the way the trees’ leaves rustle in the wind, signaling the change in seasons, makes me nostalgic for a childhood I never had. I never experienced seasons as a kid. All I had was the coldness of space and the dark void, day in, day out. What I would have given to have a proper family Thanksgiving down here on Terra. Just once.
“Nah,” Xav finally said. “No one I still talk to, at any rate. I have a few brothers and sisters, but we’re not close. Not since….” He trails off, and a bunch of noisy hoverbikes roar above us. I glare up at the bikes, who are making noise just to make it. Everything runs on electric. Gas guzzlers went extinct six hundred years ago, so these kids are just being assholes.
“What about you?” he asks. “Anyone you want to spend your Thanksgiving with? Wait, Lunans have Thanksgiving?” He tilts her head like a confused puppy, and I laugh.
“We do, indeed. We stole it from the States ages ago, but don’t ask me the exact year unless you want to bum me out over my lack of education again,” I say, trying to sound playful. But he gives me a look like I’ve just kicked his favorite ball down a gutter, and I stop in the middle of the street. “Don’t go all mopey on me now. We were having such a nice walk, too. No. No family. My dad used to beat me, and my mother is dead. So yeah.”
Xav’s mouth falls open. “Wait, what? He beat you?” He stops mid-stride, then turns around, like he’s going to march right on up to the moon or something. “Is he still alive? Please tell me he isn’t, or else I’m going to need to make a visit to Luna real quick.”
