Chapter 15 #3
Her moves are surprisingly gentle for someone who packs so much strength.
She draws lines, smudges them, then repeats the process with eyeshadow, after I hand her my own brushes.
When I open my eyes, she studies my face, her brow wrinkling a little in concentration.
But she’s the most relaxed I’ve ever seen her.
Her dark blue eyes are sparkling with a light I’ve never noticed in them before.
‘You enjoy this,’ I say, surprised.
‘I like to draw,’ she replies. ‘And this looks good on you.’
She gives me the pocket mirror. ‘You’re right,’ I say. She’s drawn me smoky, cat eyes, blending in the colour on the lid with golden eyeshadow. The Ellie who looks back at me from the mirror is beautiful and glowing and just a little bit touched by shadows.
That Ellie is someone I want to be. Someone who looks at the shit we’ve been dealt today with an eye roll and then proceeds to concoct a backup plan. ‘I love this,’ I tell Xandra, and she smirks.
‘It’s like war paint, isn’t it,’ she says on a sigh, while smudging black kohl on her own eyes, blending in pink and blue on the upper eyelid. ‘It’s like slipping into someone else’s skin.’
‘That’s a terrible way to deal with things, you know,’ I say.
She shrugs. ‘Who’s here to judge?’
‘The guys?’ I say, and we both giggle. Me and Xandra. Giggling. I feel like I’m dreaming. Did I get knocked on my head today during the fight, and am actually lying senseless on the ground? There’s no world where Xandra and I are best friends.
‘Who cares what they say?’ Xandra finishes her make-up with a flourish and then lays down on her back. She squeezes her eyes shut, and the pink and blue and black on her eyelids shimmer in the vanishing light. ‘Sometimes I just want to forget that someone is always watching.’
A little bolt goes through me. We are constantly being observed. Every move. Every question we ask. And while it’s physically impossible and uninteresting for Central Command to constantly look at what we’re doing, it’s difficult not to put an act on for those who are watching.
And who is watching? As far as we know, we try to hide from the sensors and cameras of enemy kingdoms, or destroy them, but just as most of our sensors are standing, what about theirs? The Disputed Lands are called this way for a reason.
My head begins to pound, and nope, nope, I don’t want to be thinking about all that again.
‘I need to fetch something,’ I say.
When I return, Xandra is still lying on the blanket.
I teeter on my golden shoes, the narrowed platform unsteady on the uneven ground.
The shoes are smudged and pretty much ruined, but the Ellie who is wearing them stands taller and has had enough of her every move being controlled by six people she barely even knows.
As far as I could tell from the recordings that Stella has been showing us, they’re all like that guy, Stu, the obnoxious Commander who advocated all the sick measures that we adhere to even today.
Generations of fucking Stus in charge of our lives, Stus hiding truths from us. And this Ellie who can hold her head high knows what she has to do.
Surprisingly, Xandra smiles when she sees my shoes. ‘Nice touch. What next? Should we beg Stella for a bit of alcohol and get drunk? Play some music and start dancing?’
I shake my head. After I’ve cleared the rage out of my head, an inkling of a plan starts to take shape.
I want to fight. In the past few weeks, Team Gold has hammered that into me so hard that it’s definitely loosened a screw in there.
But that little core of hope within me shines brighter.
Maybe we can do something to change things.
Maybe there is something we can uncover, since we’re out here, something that Central Command doesn’t want us to see.
I kneel on the blanket, next to Xandra. I don’t really know how to phrase what I’m thinking of. But her expression turns thoughtful. ‘You know, I really regret burning the shoes I went to the Commanders’ Ball with.’
‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘I thought it was pretty reckless. Do you know how much of my savings I spent on my shoes?’
‘Mace mentioned it,’ she says with a sad smile.
Oh, did he now?
Xandra shakes her head. ‘But it was… I don’t know.
They were a gift. From Allen. He’d had them made for me.
And yeah, I was trying to prove a point, about taking the mission – and everything that would come after that – seriously, and it would have been silly to carry them around, but…
’ Her mouth twists. ‘Did you see the look on his face when I burned them?’
I shake my head.
Xandra begins rubbing her eyes before she remembers she’s wearing make-up. ‘Yeah. That’s a sight I’ll never be able to forget.’
I’m wondering about what she isn’t saying, but then Mace and Allen emerge from one of the tents, and I have to let the subject drop.
Allen looks tired and ruffled, and a protective part of me seethes with anger. We have to get the upper hand. We have to make changes, otherwise we’ll be stuck in this position. For the rest of our lives.
Mace takes us in and lifts an eyebrow.
‘Are we having a party? Because I’m not sure I’m in the mood.’
Was I thinking that something needs to change? This might be a good time to start.