The word makes Chris pause. “Home? You’ve only been here a few days. Do you really already see this planet as home?”
I can tell from the way he says this that he doesn’t.
But I do. I really do.
When we step outside the shuttle, it’s pitch dark, a stark contrast to the electric lights inside running on the generator.
Chris stops, looking up at the starry sky. “This world really is beautiful, isn’t it?”
I nod silently.
He turns to me. He has a look of intensity on his face that I cannot place. I’ve never seen that kind of fierceness in his eyes before.
“Follow me,” he says. He grabs my hand and drags me down the ramp. I’m breathless, trying to keep up with his long legs. He veers away from the path that connects the shuttle to the colony, deeper into the forest.
“Is this safe?” I ask, touching the . 38 at my hip with my free hand.
“Nothing’s ever safe,” Chris says.
He keeps going deeper and deeper into the trees, far away from anywhere I’ve dared to explore on this planet. I’m just about to jerk my hand out of his grasp and run back when he stops.
“Close your eyes,” he says.
I laugh nervously.
“Seriously,” Chris says. “Close your eyes. ”
I look at him doubtfully, then do as he says.
His fingers brush the bottom of my chin, pointing my face toward a breeze of fresh air.
“Now,” he whispers in my ear, his voice tickling the side of my face. “Listen. ”
My eyes are filled with black. I breathe in and breathe out. I listen.
At first, I hear nothing. But then I notice the drip, drip, drip of water—somewhere. A creek or a small waterfall. The distant shuffle of leaves. A zhrr—shh—zhrr sound, similar to locusts. A sound that is, unmistakably, a frog’s croak.
I open my eyes slowly.
“This world,” Chris says, his eyes beseeching mine. “It really is a home worth fighting for, isn’t it?”
I nod silently.
“At any cost,” Chris says. He looks—tormented. As if he’s trying to make a decision but cannot bring himself to it. I wonder if he knows more about Emma’s death than I thought or if he’s discovered the same thing that made her paranoid.
And then—before I can pull away, before I can even gasp in surprise—Chris swoops down and plants his lips on mine. The kiss takes me by such surprise that I open my mouth—and he slips his tongue against mine, hesitant at first, and then the kiss deepens, almost as if he’s trying to convince me of something through the kiss. To claim me, to make me his. My cheeks grow warm, my mind spins.
I used to think that loving Elder didn’t count if he was my only choice.
And here’s Chris, only a few years older than me, smart and strong and brave—and I realize I had another choice all along.
I lean away from him, pulling back until he lets me go. I take several steps away from him, trying to catch my breath. Catch my thoughts. My racing heart.
“I—I’m sorry,” Chris says immediately.
I’m glad it’s too dark now for him to see how bright my cheeks must be, how deep my blush.
“I thought—it doesn’t matter. I’m sorry,” he says again. “I saw you leave Elder’s building, but I didn’t think . . . I didn’t know you two were more than friends. . . . ” He shuffles nervously, avoiding my gaze. “I mean . . . I’d hoped . . . ”