Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Lydia
“That’s kind of creepy,” comes Harlee’s voice, muffled by the distance between us.
“…want to read…” Roan answers, but even straining, I miss part of what he says. Considering I also missed the beginning of the conversation, I’m having trouble deciphering what they’re talking about.
Yes, I’m hiding on the stairs. Yes, I’m eavesdropping on someone else’s conversation—everything I silently accused Chloe of doing yesterday. And yes, I hate myself for being a hypocrite, but I honestly can’t bring myself to continue into the kitchen, not after the disaster of last night.
As predicted, Killan left before I woke.
He’s got it easy; with scales, he doesn’t wear clothes, and he doesn’t have hair to brush, so he just gets up and walks out.
It grinds my gears. I’m usually the morning person.
I’m a baker after all and no stranger to rising before the sun.
But since being abducted and now living underground, my internal clock has gotten all messed up, and I still haven’t adjusted.
I’m not going to adjust, I reassure myself. There isn’t any point getting used to Ril II time when I’ll be leaving sooner or later.
Hopefully, much sooner than later.
“I do not have time to read them all.” Killan’s voice carries.
He’s so confident the others will agree with everything he suggests that he never tempers his tone.
Everything he says sounds like an order or an interrogation.
I’m scowling and I’m not even the one he’s talking to.
“If you want me to pass on the letters addressed to you directly, I will. Otherwise, I will delete them.”
“I do not want to see mine,” comes Sorin’s voice, which is a surprise because I hadn’t realized he was here. He must have gotten up early to have arrived this morning. Apparently harvest is a pretty big deal for the brothers.
I abandon the idea of breakfast, at least until everyone has cleared out of Killan’s kitchen. I don’t need to see them excited about work, not after Killan made it clear that he doesn’t want me within touching distance.
I turn to leave.
Chloe is standing directly behind me, one step lower, and I jump, nearly bumping into her.
“Shit!” I hiss the expletive, a hand pressed to my chest. “How long have you been there?” I hadn’t heard her approach, and a glance at her feet tells me she isn’t wearing her usual high heels.
She raises her immaculately shaped eyebrows, as if that’s a proper answer. The look perfectly conveys a I’ll tell you if you tell me.
I glare. We are not the same. And I almost open my mouth to say that, then decide actions speak louder than words. I take the remaining stairs two at a time and slip into the kitchen.
Killan, Roan, and Harlee are all seated at the table with their backs to me.
Roan has his tablet propped on the table before them, Briar and Sorin on video call, which better explains why I could hear Sorin’s voice.
Killan is holding his own tablet, referring to some notes or other.
Which probably means he’ll be taking it with him to work today, and I won’t be listening to more search results.
My to-do list had exactly one item on it, and I’m left facing another day of nothing to do.
Back to sulking, I guess.
I shuffle sideways, keeping out of Killan’s direct line of sight, and head toward the counter, where the leftover breakfast things have been piled. Judging by the mess, Roan and Harlee ate here, too, probably while I was still sleeping.
“Hey, Lydia.” Briar waves at me from the tablet screen, and the others all turn to look at me.
“Good morning.” Harlee is practically glowing. Of course she is—the bride-to-be. Roan is watching her with a smug expression, like he can’t believe she’s really his.
“Grabbing some food.” I make a noncommittal gesture toward the kitchen counter.
“Have you heard?” Harlee asks. “Apparently the farm’s been getting fan mail.”
“The mail is addressed to all of us,” Briar explains. “But they’re sending it through to the farm account. I guess that’s the only way people know how to contact us.”
“We’re getting fan mail? Even though our season was never released?”
“Yep,” says Harlee. “Apparently we Humans have caused quite a stir.”
“Has anyone said they know where Earth is?”
The others all look to Killan. Considering he manages the office admin for the farm and charity, I’m guessing it’s him who’s been reading most of the letters. “No.”
Of course not. I grit my teeth to keep from reacting. I hadn’t thought he’d say yes, but the disappointment still hits me like a freight train.
“Some guy wanted to lick Harlee’s feet,” says Briar, her voice cracking in the tablet’s speaker.
“Well, Briar’s got at least three offers of elopement,” says Harlee. “One person even wanted to fly her to his private planet.”
“We already have a private planet,” Sorin grumbles.
“We do,” Briar agrees, kissing Sorin’s cheek. “Where’s Chloe?” She pretend gags.
“Haven’t seen her,” I lie.
“Probably moping,” Harlee says, then blushes. “Not that we think you’re moping, Lydia. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s alright,” I say before she can dig herself a bigger hole.
I don’t want to be angry at Harlee, not after everything the two of us have been through together. We might want different things, but for a while, when we first started filming LOVE GALAXY, it had been Harlee and me against the universe.
Is it too early for a shot of Killan’s homemade hooch?
Absolutely. But if I knew how to use the touchpad set into his kitchen wall, I’d still order myself a stiff drink.
Anything to take the sharp edge off my feelings.
There isn’t even any coffee on Ril II. And there are definitely no French pastries, like what I’m used to eating for breakfast. One of the perks of working in a bakery.
A familiar ache settles in my chest as I think of the bank loan I’d worked so hard to get approved and the shopfront I’d finally signed the lease on.
I’d paid six months’ rent upfront to secure my place.
At the time, it’d taken a huge chunk out of my capital.
But I’m grateful for it now. It means I’ve got six months in which to return home, and the shop will still be mine.
Well, four months, if you subtract the sixty or so days I’ve already been on Ril II.
The fact I’m not making repayments on my business loan—that’s more complicated.
I suppose I’ll keep my fingers crossed the bank won’t send the debt collectors after me before I can get back to Earth and make a hardship claim.
For an absurd moment, I imagine what would happen if I told them about being abducted by aliens.
They’d probably think I was crazy, and I wouldn’t blame them.
A few months ago, if someone had told me I’d be visiting a whole other galaxy, I’d have thought they were running some scam, trying to get my money.
“…not coming,” Killan says, and I realize the others have been talking while I’ve been daydreaming. Something Killan said must’ve caught my attention, but I don’t know what. My name, maybe?
I glance up and find everyone watching me again. “Sorry, what?”
“We were wondering what you’re planning on doing today,” Briar says, and Harlee angles Roan’s tablet farther toward me so I can see the screen without glare from the overhead lights. “Killan says you’re not coming, but, well…” Briar smiles encouragingly.
“Oh, you know…” I couldn’t be any vaguer.
Briar shares a look with Sorin, and I grit my teeth, trying my best not to get angry at Briar, too. Her smile is equal parts sympathetic and friendly. I like the friendly part. We’re friends after all. It’s the sympathy that’s threatening to spike my blood pressure.
It’s like I’m on my period. That’s how I feel—easily annoyed and easily angered, as if the sensitivity reading on my emotions has been ratcheted up to double strength, as happens right before my bleeding starts.
But I haven’t had my period since my kidnapping.
And I doubt I’m going to get it anytime soon.
My hormones have always been affected by stress.
When I was in college, I was so worried about exams that I didn’t get my period my entire final semester.
It was the same when I broke my engagement to Lucas.
There’s a pause as everyone waits to see if that’s all I’m going to say. There’s no way I’m admitting that the only thing I’ve got lined up to do today is more sulking, not when that makes me sound like Chloe’s twin.
I busy myself with breakfast. The brothers favor a porridge-type food for their first meal of the day.
It’s a little bland for my liking, but in the scheme of things, it’s not so bad.
I carry a bowl of it to the table and take a seat—all of them on one side of the table and me by myself on the other side.
With the scraping of chair legs, Killan abruptly stands.
I hate that his reaction hurts my feelings. I shouldn’t care what he thinks. I shouldn’t.
Chloe must’ve been taking the piss when she suggested Killan wanted me to stay. Worse was the fact that I almost believed her.
It’s so obvious that Killan doesn’t want you to leave, she’d said. He wants to keep you all to himself. What utter bullshit!
He’s staring at his tablet like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen, making it clear to every single person he’s purposefully avoiding eye contact with me.
And suddenly everybody else is avoiding looking at me, like I’ve got the black plague and it’s catching.
Roan slides his arms around Harlee, whispering in her ear. Briar has put herself on mute. I can see her talking to Sorin, but I can’t hear anything they’re saying. Talking about me? Talking about Killan?
I stuff a spoonful of porridge into my mouth, trying to hide how much my hands are shaking. I was lucky enough to never have been properly bullied as a kid, but I’m thinking it must feel something like this—like I’m a pariah nobody wants to admit to knowing.