CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Nova
TWENTY-FIVE DAYS LEFT
‘Oh, don’t let it boil over!’ Nari quickly switched off my flame.
‘Freakin’ stars! I’m so sorry.’
She lifted her goggles. ‘Wow. That was unlike you.’
‘I don’t know how I forgot. I was so focused on my notes …’ I knew what was wrong, but I couldn’t say it. It was one thing to announce I was a Pain Carrier. The flashes of blue, paired with my new scar, did that for me. It was another thing to admit the rest.
‘It’s fine. I can clean up. I owe you for filling in for me last Friday.’ Nari winked, ruby-orange eyeshadow glittering around her dark eyes.
I packed up my things. ‘Thanks.’
Focus, Nova. Focus.
I stuffed my lab coat and goggles into the PPE lockers in the outer hall.
Without the extra layer, I pulled my sleeves down past my wrists – especially the left one – my fingers grazing the raised scar.
I was covered head to toe, as much as I could be in eighty-degree weather.
Luckily, the labs were temperature-controlled.
My phone buzzed and I silenced it. I already knew who it was, but I needed to get somewhere I could exhale in peace before those stormy eyes lit up my screen.
I breathed through each step down to the first floor of South Alta Community College’s Albert Fox Sciences Wing.
Almost every inch of the walls held a plaque or award for Dominion scientists who’d passed through here, each noting their contributions to the Freedom System and other pain medications Dominion championed.
I used to revel in it. Once upon a time, I’d thought about the internship opportunities – following a track like Nari’s. Not any more.
I could’ve skipped the sights altogether and taken the elevators, but that side of the building was all glass, sunlight beaming. With what was under my skin …
As soon as my foot hit the last stair, I cut sharply into the bathrooms. I pushed open every stall to make sure I was alone, then locked myself into the one farthest from the door.
‘Agh!’ I gasped, doubling over. I couldn’t believe I’d managed that long, holding in so much.
Pain coursed through every vein. Some flares felt like needle pricks, one after another against tender, sensitive skin.
This one was worse. I wanted to scream, but I settled for biting my sleeve as I slid down into a crouch.
Blue light twinkled at my wrist. I stared at it for a moment.
A scar on the inside of your left wrist meant Pain Carrier.
The right wrist was the incision site for Pain Givers.
Some Pain Carriers got tattoos to cover them, and now I understood why.
I never wanted to see this scar again. I never wanted to feel some stranger’s pain again.
‘It hurts so much,’ I whimpered.
For the last ten days, I’d been taking nervxs like candy.
With no addictive properties, it was the only over-the-counter medicine Pain Carriers were approved to take.
I had moments – even hours – when I didn’t feel any pain, when the helical disease slept inside my nervous system.
But when it woke, I couldn’t imagine how anyone pushed through it.
Pain Carriers weren’t supposed to push through it. They weren’t supposed to feel it.
The first night, I couldn’t sleep. Skye slipped into my bed to hold me. My little sister had to console me, and I couldn’t tell her the truth about why. I wanted to tell Estelle about the pain too, but I didn’t want her to confirm what I already worried about – something was wrong with me.
‘It’ll pass. It’s never more than a few minutes at a time.’ I soothed.
I had to ask Stephen at Caféology for more time off.
I hadn’t quit yet, wanting to get my family out of debt first with the six-month plan Leo and I had crafted.
Stephen promised to put me on the October schedule – one more month off.
It’d be enough time for me to figure out what had happened during my transference, what had gone wrong.
Hopefully, the pain would stop by then. The most ironic part was that I now had a clear answer for Cas about how I felt about Pain Givers.
I wished mine would go to hell.
But I’d never tell him that.
Five thousand dollars a month for my family to breathe. This was the soft life I’d signed up for.
My phone buzzed again, and his face filled my no-longer-cracked holoscreen. I’d captured the photo of him during our first FaceStream, right in the middle of his laugh.
Castor Cas
Ice cream or sorbet?
He was back at it. Since we’d started texting again, he was intentionally learning everything he could about me. His messages were these brief pockets of time when I almost forgot about my pain and just smiled.
Nova
Ice cream. I know your answer is sorbet, Mr Lactose Intolerant
Castor Cas
? I’m not lactose intolerant.
Nova
So you drink oat milk for fun? Plus I remember you saying milkshakes give you cramps before you surf
Castor Cas
So you remember the little things I tell you?
Castor Cas
So you replay our conversations and smile?
Castor Cas
Are you smiling rn?
Castor Cas
I really want to see you. And not through a holoscreen. I need that smile in person.
I sighed. This boy always knew what to say.
I’d been avoiding another date – well, a first non-fake date.
He’d already asked twice and hinted he had something he wanted to talk about, but only in person.
Maybe he wanted to ask me to be his girlfriend?
Something official? The idea freaked me out.
I didn’t know where things were with us, or where they could go with us being so different.
And I didn’t know if his feelings would change once he learned I was a Pain Carrier.
I knew he respected people who did it, and the more I thought about it, the less I worried he was the type to get caught up in stereotypes.
But there was a difference between respecting someone different from you and dating them.
Except now I knew what it was like for him, living with his helical disease. We could lean on one anoth–
I paused that thought. I couldn’t tell him the truth.
I couldn’t tell him I understood exactly how he felt.
I should wait to see him – see if my pain stopped.
My transference had been last Tuesday. Today was Friday, over a week later.
Maybe it took a while to adjust. But I didn’t want to wait to see him.
I craved another day like our time at the South Beach pier.
If I wanted to derail the conversation, all I had to do was ask him the difference between an alley-oop and a frontside grab.
I wasn’t ashamed to admit I was deep into surf lore at this point, and he loved it.
I’d sent him reels of my reactions while watching old championship tours the night before.
I’d gravitated to the same favorite surfer as Cas – Cayde Harlowe – and had been devastated watching them forced into retirement by a brutal wipeout at Banzai Pipeline.
But I couldn’t keep pushing off the inevitable.
Nova
You’ve become a pro at making me smile
Castor Cas
Through the phone. I’m ready for the Championship Tour.
I rolled my eyes.
Nova
Smooth line. Do you use that one on all the girls?
I teased him, but the line had worked.
Castor Cas
I’ve never met anyone worth being smooth for, so I guess not. My two exes were hand-picked by my mom, and well – you know how much I love her choices for me.
I raised a brow, curious, and feeling a little special.
Nova
So you’ve never dated anyone you actually like?
Castor Cas
I’m trying to now
Why did he have to be so good with words? I leaned back against the stall. We were perfect over FaceStream and through texts. It felt like being stuck in a safe space I didn’t want to leave. With him, I didn’t think about school or bills or my pain. Pain we both understood.
Castor Cas
Take a chance with me. Sunday. 2 p.m.
Blue light flickered across my palm, duller now, less painful than before.
My hellflare calmed. Sunday, 2 p.m. I could do it.
It was only a date. I’d see how it went – how we were together – and maybe I wouldn’t have a pain episode.
Then I’d tell him, in my own time. And if it flared during our date …
well, having him there – someone who understood – might be exactly what I needed.
I paused again. That wouldn’t work. I wasn’t supposed to feel the pain.
I couldn’t tell him until I’d figured it out.
I’d say, ‘I’m a Carrier’ and then put on a smile, like he did in his interview.
I hadn’t understood the phrase grin and bear it before this.
I waited a few more minutes while my hellflare continued to dull. I could do this.
Nova
Sunday. 2 p.m.
Castor Cas
YES!
Castor Cas
Too much?
Nova
Not enough
Castor Cas
YES, YES, YES!
I giggled. I left the stall and washed my hands, then swallowed one more nervxs for the afternoon. In the mirror, a faint blue light shimmered at my cheeks, like the perfect dot of blush. Such a beautiful, deceitful little thing.
Back in the lobby, I avoided the sun-drenched section and made my way to the café. There was enough time to grab a bite before I needed to be home for Skye.
Castor Cas
How do you feel about horseback riding? Hike? Personal surf lessons with an almost pro athlete? I already have a longboard for you – hot pink.
All of it sounded amazing, but all of it was outside, in the sun. It’d only aggravate his pain. Mine too. I assumed he’d want to stay indoors – though he had access to pain meds far stronger than nervxs.
Nova
How about something chill? Indoors?
Castor Cas
I know exactly where to take us
The café’s sliding doors opened, and a rush of smells hit me: spaghetti squash lasagna, cauliflower pizza, steak tostadas, pho ga. I didn’t have a chance to ask Cas where he meant, because standing in the middle of it all was Estelle.
I stopped short and she ran over.