Without thinking, I give chase, accelerating quickly to make up his head start. As we race, it reminds me of Camp Blood and Stone, when Tristan and I raced after we rescued my father. Except this time I’m not racing Tristan, a guy I barely know, I’m racing Brody, another guy I barely know. My life feels strange, like everyone I’m interacting with are just rocks in a swirling underground river, put in my path by chance alone.

With the head start, Brody beats me easily, but he would have beaten me anyway, his long legs gaining ground ahead of me with each stride. At the end we’re both hunched over, our hands on our knees, breathing heavily from the exertion. Which I like, because it means Brody didn’t go easy on me. He didn’t underestimate me. Which means he respects me.

“Dead center,” he says.

“What?” I say, wondering if that is what soldiers say in the army when they win something.

“The bullet you fired—it hit dead center.”

I look up, still panting, and see that he’s right. A hole the width of my thumb is drilled through the bull’s-eye of the target, not even touching the edges of the painted-on red circle. I laugh. “It was your shot, not mine.”

“True,” he says, laughing.

Could Brody be like an older brother to me? “How old are you?” I blurt out, right away wishing I hadn’t asked. It makes me sound like I’m interested in him—which I’m not.

Brody’s laugh reaches his eyes and the single dimple is deeper than I’ve ever seen before. “Does it matter?” Matter for what? I think I know what he means, but I’m not going to say it.

“I was just curious,” I say nonchalantly, looking away. “Forget it. Let’s go shoot some more.”

I start to walk back toward where we left the pistol, but Brody stops me with a hand on my wrist. I feel a crackle of electricity through my skin. “Twenty-two,” he says.

“Oh.” He’s younger than he looks. I was guessing at least twenty-five.

I pull away from his hand and walk quickly back to the guns. The clop of his boots on the rock slab echoes behind me but I walk fast enough that he doesn’t catch up. I need to get out of here; I feel like every second I’m with him he’s getting bolder.

“I’ve got to go,” I say as Brody pulls astride.

“But we’ve only just started the lesson,” he says, looking at me with one eyebrow raised.

“I just forgot something I had to do.” It’s a bad lie, no detail, obvious.

But Brody doesn’t question it. Just says, “Okay, no problem. How about one last shot with the pistol?”

I shrug. Sure, why not? Taking the pistol from him, I use both hands to line up the shot, like he taught me. Finding the target, I compensate for the gun’s kick by lowering my aim ever so slightly. Keep my arms locked, my hands steady, my eye on the target. Pull the trigger. Pop! The gun is like a live animal in my hands, throwing them up and back, but I manage to hang onto it.

“Well done,” Brody says. “That was much better. If my stellar eyesight is right, you nicked the top of the third ring up from the center. I’ve seen practiced shooters do worse.”

“Thanks,” I say. “I’m starting to get the hang of it, I guess.”

“Yeah.” Before I know what’s happening, he leans into me, his breath on my lips, his eyes on fire. I know what he’s going to do. I saw that same look of longing in Tristan’s eyes before I left him, and I know my own eyes mirrored it back at him. But this time I know my eyes are only filled with horror. Brody’s going to kiss me.

I pull away awkwardly. “Well, anyway…thanks for your help. I really appreciate it.”

Brody sighs, pushes his feathery hair off his forehead. He looks stung, like I’ve just slapped him. “Uh, yeah, no problem.” It’s the first time he hasn’t sounded completely sure of himself, and I feel bad about it, because it’s my fault. He’s been nothing but nice to me. He doesn’t know that I’m thinking of him as a brother. “And I’m sorry.”

Not what I expected him to say. What is he apologizing for? I’m the one who brushed him off. “No, Brody, it’s okay. I’m the one who should be sorry. Look, I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Sure.” He sounds defeated and I have the sudden urge to put my arm around him, show him that I do care about his feelings, that I want to be his friend.

Instead, I just turn on my heel and walk away to find Tawni and my mom.

Chapter Twenty

Tristan

Sitting next to Ben the next day, I feel discouraged. The rest of the yesterday’s meeting didn’t go very well. We gained the support of five additional VPs, although the other Moon Realm leaders ridiculed them for it. So now we have eighteen out of forty-two, less than half. It’s not what any of us had hoped for.

“Will eighteen subchapters be enough?” I ask.

“Jonas,” Ben says, “you know how it works as well as I do. What are your thoughts?” I can tell Ben doesn’t feel like talking about the rebellion right now. And I know why. His wife was there. Adele’s mom. Like me, all he’s thinking about is the fact that she’s okay, that she’s a general in the star dweller army, and he’s wondering whether Adele found her, whether she is okay, too. All I want to do is get out of this strategy meeting and talk to Ben in private.

Jonas is speaking and I try to push aside my personal thoughts to focus on what he’s saying. “…without a majority, the Moon Realm can’t technically declare war on the Sun Realm, or form a military alliance with the star dwellers.” He pauses, waiting to see if I have any questions. I nod at him and he continues. “However, each individual subchapter can act unilaterally if they wish. But then the other Moon Realm subchapters might align themselves with the Sun Realm, in which case we’d have—”

“A civil war,” Ben finishes grimly. “Which is the last thing we want. Because then we’d be fighting our own people at the same time as the sun dwellers.” Ben’s voice is strong and determined. Evidently he’s been able to temporarily store his personal thoughts, too.

“But I just don’t see how we can get the support we need,” I say. “You heard the others. I don’t think any of the other VPs are anywhere close to supporting the rebellion.”

“What do you think, Vice President?” Ben says across the table.

Morgan’s been silent through the entire exchange, her hands clasped in front of her, looking calmer than a moon dweller subchapter after midnight. Unfolding her hands, she thumps the bottom of her palm on the table softly. “We have to get the star dweller leaders up here. Show the rest of the VPs that they’re friends, not foes. Share information. Having them gawk at the proceedings like a bunch of ghosts at the bottom of a screen is not helping.”

“The generals didn’t seem like they would budge on the three-day deadline,” Maia points out. “And they didn’t seem interested in meeting with us until we’ve reached an agreement.”

“What about your wife?” I say, immediately wondering if I should have brought it up. My eyes flick to Ben and I relax when I see the smile behind them. “I mean, can’t she do anything to help get the generals up here?”

“So you knew the whole time who she was?”

“I just guessed it, but I was fairly certain,” I say. “That’s why I was so shell-shocked at the beginning.”

Ben nods slowly. “She surprised us all. I had hoped she was alive and well, of course, but I never thought she would be part of the star dweller leadership already. But, knowing her, I suppose I should’ve guessed it.”

“Tristan has a point,” Morgan says. “Can she help us gain favor with the Star Realm?”

“I’m sure she is already doing everything she can. But, of course I will contact her. I’ve been itching to speak to her ever since I saw her on that screen.” I can’t help but smile when I see the look on Ben’s face, the longing, the desire to be reunited with his wife, and to find out about Adele.