Legacy to Zero

27: Late Night, Later Talk

Lars

As I kicked the grocery bag under the clothes rack with the other boxes of food, my watch sounded. Partially stunned, it took me a second to register it, or the following knock at my door.

I went to the door, finding Reid on the other side. Surely, he didn't still want to talk today? Wasn't it getting late?

"Hey," I said. "Um... you want to—you can come back tomorrow if you want? I mean—"

"Now is good." Both hands sank into the pockets of his sweatpants. "Didn't want to keep putting it off."

"Okay. We can—I can show you the community room. It's quieter there."

It wasn't, really. Technically, after ten were quiet hours, and the RA enforced it pretty strictly during study week. I just didn't want Reid Tahan in my small room at the moment. Felt too personal, too constricting, and at least if we started fighting again, I'd be able to excuse myself.

Swallowing hard, I took a seat in front of the cast screen. Red light from the windows below casted on the cushioned chairs. I let him choose a seat first before getting myself into one with a space between us. Folded my legs on the rippled fake leather. The mini fridge and accompanying toaster sat in the half-dark.

"I'm not... am I in trouble?"

He shook his head, arms crossed over his chest. No less than five bracelets sat on his wrist, circling his watch. His finger absently spun one with white beads interlaced with braided brown strings. "Of course not. Nothing of the sort. In fact, I was trying to meet with Sachiko so you could go over your contract, since I understand you're still on trial."

"Yeah, but that's fine. I get why."

His gaze flicked to mine. The way he looked at me was always so intense, but I couldn't avert my eyes. His were such a deep brown that they were practically black, only a few shades lighter than his hair. He probably just did it so that I wouldn't stare; it was intentional. Almost like a challenge. Everything he was saying was one, too. How many times did I have to prove myself to him? How many times before he admitted I belonged in the squadron? How many times before he admitted he was being a little bit of a jerk?

He sighed, then said, "I know you think she's innocent."

And it was like a whisper, like a vice grip around my lungs. I squeezed my hands into the chair. "It wasn't supposed to be a secret, and I wasn't trying to hide it. I was going to tell you."

Was he mad? He was probably mad.

"I'm sorry," I went on. "I didn't join the squadron to spy for her. Certainly, I wasn't hoping any of this would happen."

"Every member should be on the same side."

"I am. I swear it."

He crossed one leg over the other. "Of course. I'm talking about myself. I don't feel like I have been on your side."

A door in this distance banged shut. The steady rumble of the shower carried from afar. It still smelled like laundry soap and the burnt popcorn somebody had made ages ago that had cemented itself ever since.

What? I wanted to say. Instead, I said, "Not all the time."

"That's my fault. And I apologize." He rested his leg on the seat, both hands anchored around his knee like he was going to slide off. I didn't know if he'd ever spoken those words before in his life. "I took over this mission for Grant. Wren and I could both be considered to lead the Tetra, but neither of us has the experience. So it was my chance to prove myself. Prove that I was capable."