dangerous?”
“Don’t worry, a little extra nutrient mist won’t hurt anyone. It’s more a concern of running over budget if we use too much too quickly.”
Michael jumps in then with a funny story about an air filter malfunction when he was on Stella Station, and eager to join the camaraderie, I find myself telling them about an impromptu game of tug-of-war set up in the cargo bay a few nights ago. The only misstep in the meal comes when I accidentally knock over my drink. Even that is smoothed over easily enough, Michael helping me wipe it up while Taylor offers to rinse out my jumpsuit to ensure it doesn’t stain.
“Teal, can you loan Lia something to wear?” Taylor asks. “In fact, don’t you have some old clothes you were going to donate to charity? Maybe they would fit Lia. I’m sure she could use a few extra outfits.”
Before I know it, I’m in Teal’s room, changing into one of her skirts and tops. I smooth my hands over the shiny pink material of the skirt, remembering the last time I wore something this nice. It was a blue dress, made out of the same sort of shiny fabric, sleeveless and high-collared. How I loved that dress!
No, wait. That wasn’t my dress. That was Lia’s dress. It was
Lia
who loved it.
Looking up, I catch Teal staring at me. “I’ll get it back to you right away,” I promise, thinking she’s upset Taylor practically commanded her to give me her clothes. “I have another jumpsuit in the bay.”
“It’s fine,” Teal says with a shrug, “I never wear it anymore. Pink’s so un-fash these days. You might as well keep it, and the top, too. Let’s see, what else can I get rid of?”
She turns back to her closet and starts pulling stuff out. Skirts, slacks, tops, sweaters; by the time Teal is done, I have a heap of clothes on my lap, all things Teal claims she no longer wants or wears. I gape at the pile in astonishment and shake my head, but Teal isn’t any better at taking “no” for an answer than Michael is, and by the time she’s through, I’ve got a bag with two more skirts, three tops, a pair of sweatpants, a sweater, and some tights. Once again I feel a twinge of guilt, like I’m accepting things under false pretenses, but only a twinge. Teal doesn’t seem to like me enough to give me anything she’s truly fond of. The guilt vanishes altogether the moment Michael walks into the room.
He looks me up and down, a slow smile spreading across his face, and whistles. “Wow! You should borrow Teal’s clothes more often, Lia. You look cosmic. Really cosmic.”
The look in his eyes echoes his words, and I can feel a blush spreading over my face. “Thanks.”
Teal glances between the two of us and rolls her eyes. “Should I leave you two alone now?”
If possible, I only blush harder. Michael just shrugs. “Be my guest! I never wanted a little sister, anyway.”
Teal makes a face at him as she leaves—just a typical little sister’s taunting, it appears at the outset—but there’s something in her eyes, something concerned, almost grave, that speaks of deeper sentiment than simply the typical brother and sister exchange. An answering gleam flickers in Michael’s eyes, and though I can’t quite read either expression, I can sense the strength of their affection.
A pang of envy hits me as I watch Teal go. “You guys really love each other.”
Michael glances at me sharply, surprise shining in his eyes along with something else, something I can’t quite define. At last he gives me an embarrassed shrug. “Gran, my friends, Mom and Dad—they’ve come and they’ve gone. Teal, on the other hand . . . Teal is the constant. Teal and I have always been together.”
And that pretty much seems to say it all.
It makes sense now, Teal’s ongoing animosity toward me. For years it’s been just her and Michael. To have his former best friend show up out of the blue, to practically resurrect from the dead and walk back into his life . . . .No wonder
“Don’t worry, a little extra nutrient mist won’t hurt anyone. It’s more a concern of running over budget if we use too much too quickly.”
Michael jumps in then with a funny story about an air filter malfunction when he was on Stella Station, and eager to join the camaraderie, I find myself telling them about an impromptu game of tug-of-war set up in the cargo bay a few nights ago. The only misstep in the meal comes when I accidentally knock over my drink. Even that is smoothed over easily enough, Michael helping me wipe it up while Taylor offers to rinse out my jumpsuit to ensure it doesn’t stain.
“Teal, can you loan Lia something to wear?” Taylor asks. “In fact, don’t you have some old clothes you were going to donate to charity? Maybe they would fit Lia. I’m sure she could use a few extra outfits.”
Before I know it, I’m in Teal’s room, changing into one of her skirts and tops. I smooth my hands over the shiny pink material of the skirt, remembering the last time I wore something this nice. It was a blue dress, made out of the same sort of shiny fabric, sleeveless and high-collared. How I loved that dress!
No, wait. That wasn’t my dress. That was Lia’s dress. It was
Lia
who loved it.
Looking up, I catch Teal staring at me. “I’ll get it back to you right away,” I promise, thinking she’s upset Taylor practically commanded her to give me her clothes. “I have another jumpsuit in the bay.”
“It’s fine,” Teal says with a shrug, “I never wear it anymore. Pink’s so un-fash these days. You might as well keep it, and the top, too. Let’s see, what else can I get rid of?”
She turns back to her closet and starts pulling stuff out. Skirts, slacks, tops, sweaters; by the time Teal is done, I have a heap of clothes on my lap, all things Teal claims she no longer wants or wears. I gape at the pile in astonishment and shake my head, but Teal isn’t any better at taking “no” for an answer than Michael is, and by the time she’s through, I’ve got a bag with two more skirts, three tops, a pair of sweatpants, a sweater, and some tights. Once again I feel a twinge of guilt, like I’m accepting things under false pretenses, but only a twinge. Teal doesn’t seem to like me enough to give me anything she’s truly fond of. The guilt vanishes altogether the moment Michael walks into the room.
He looks me up and down, a slow smile spreading across his face, and whistles. “Wow! You should borrow Teal’s clothes more often, Lia. You look cosmic. Really cosmic.”
The look in his eyes echoes his words, and I can feel a blush spreading over my face. “Thanks.”
Teal glances between the two of us and rolls her eyes. “Should I leave you two alone now?”
If possible, I only blush harder. Michael just shrugs. “Be my guest! I never wanted a little sister, anyway.”
Teal makes a face at him as she leaves—just a typical little sister’s taunting, it appears at the outset—but there’s something in her eyes, something concerned, almost grave, that speaks of deeper sentiment than simply the typical brother and sister exchange. An answering gleam flickers in Michael’s eyes, and though I can’t quite read either expression, I can sense the strength of their affection.
A pang of envy hits me as I watch Teal go. “You guys really love each other.”
Michael glances at me sharply, surprise shining in his eyes along with something else, something I can’t quite define. At last he gives me an embarrassed shrug. “Gran, my friends, Mom and Dad—they’ve come and they’ve gone. Teal, on the other hand . . . Teal is the constant. Teal and I have always been together.”
And that pretty much seems to say it all.
It makes sense now, Teal’s ongoing animosity toward me. For years it’s been just her and Michael. To have his former best friend show up out of the blue, to practically resurrect from the dead and walk back into his life . . . .No wonder
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