Turning Eighteen
She resumed her jog, and picked up the pace the moment her sneakers hit the track. Her poor body was running on nervous energy. Something had to give, and soon. Her studies would suffer and her health would fail unless she calmed down. The only reason she’d wanted this day to arrive quickly was because it would settle the uncertainty around her and Les’s relationship—permanently, if she was a Solitary; for at least seven years, if she was a Chosen. Ha! As if they’d still be together in seven years. A lot could happen between now and then, and for the millionth time, she told herself to worry only about today, not tomorrow. Hey, she was eighteen today. Eighteen! But who flaming cared if she lost Les?
Lesley shifted the warm bag to her left hand and tapped on Mo’s room door. She waited. Nothing. Mo probably had her comm unit set to wake her at 08:00, just enough time for her to quickly shower, dress, and make it to her first class, albeit on an empty stomach. Well, not this morning. Lesley knocked again, a little louder this time, and strained to hear movement within. A faint thump, then shuffling toward the door. It opened a crack.
“Oh, hi.” Kary swung the door open and smothered a yawn.
“Did I wake you?”
“What time is it?” she murmured, her eyes barely open.
“Just after 07:00.”
“Well, yeah, you did, but my alarm would have gone off in ten minutes anyway.”
“Sorry.”
Kary yawned again. “Doesn’t matter.” She sniffed. “Do I smell eggs and, um, hash browns?”
Lesley smiled. “I thought I’d surprise Mo with breakfast today.”
“Oh.” Kary glanced back into the room. “She’s not back from her morning jog.”
What morning jog? “I figured she’d be back by now,” Lesley said, making the effort to speak evenly.
“I’m sure she’ll be back soon.” Kary stepped back from the door. “So come on in.”
“Thanks.” She walked into the room and took in the tangled bedclothes lying in a heap on Mo’s empty bed. Since when had Mo jogged in the mornings, and why hadn’t she mentioned it?
“She’ll kick herself for missing breakfast in bed,” Kary said, opening a drawer and rummaging through it.
“I brought breakfast for you, too. But I wasn’t sure what you like.” Lesley opened the bag and carefully lifted out a covered plate of eggs, hash browns, and toast. “If you don’t want it, that’s okay.”
“Want it?” Kary dropped a pair of pants onto her bed and eagerly accepted the plate. “Of course I want it. Thanks. It was sweet of you to think of me.”
Lesley handed her a knife and fork. “I have tziva, too. Do you want some?”
“Argamon, if I was same-oriented, Mo would have a problem,” Kary said, grinning. “But no, thank you. I’m fine.”
Lesley rolled the bag shut, set it on Mo’s nightstand, and moved a pile of folded clothes from the nearby chair to the bed so she could sit down. Kary perched herself on the edge of her bed and balanced the plate on her lap. They stared at each other. “Go ahead and eat,” Lesley said. “Mo could be a while.”
“If you don’t mind.” Kary lifted the steamed cover from the plate and set it face-up next to her. She tucked in. “Everything set for the party tonight?” she asked around a mouthful of food.
Lesley nodded. “Try to be there by 19:45 at the latest.”
“Does she suspect anything?”
“I don’t think so.” Lesley paused. “So she’s been jogging for a while, hasn’t she? When she first started, I didn’t think she’d keep it up.”
“Me either. I mean, you know how much Mo loves her sleep. Never thought I’d see her getting up every morning at dawn.”
Neither did Lesley.
Kary gestured with her fork. “But she’s having problems sleeping.”
Lesley nodded.
“I tried to talk to her about it, but she brushed me off. I’ve wondered if her eighteenth has anything—”
The door opened. Mo walked in, red-faced, her hair plastered to her head. She gaped at Lesley. “What are you doing here?”
“I brought you breakfast,” Lesley said, standing. “It’s your—”
“Have you heard of a flaming comm unit?” Mo slammed the door shut. “You couldn’t beep me to let me know you were coming over? Maybe I don’t want breakfast. Maybe you could show a little more consideration.”
Lesley stared at her in shock.
“I think I’ll hop in the shower,” Kary said, flipping the cover back over her plate. “This’ll still be warm when I’m finished.” She gathered her clothes, glanced at Mo and Lesley, and hurried into the bathroom.
Mo threw up her arms. “Great. Now I can’t get a towel.” She snatched a shirt from the pile on her bed and wiped her face with it. “And I was hoping to shower as soon as I got back. Now I’ll have to wait. Because you woke her up.” She flung the shirt onto the bed.
Lesley bit back a retort and waited until she could hear the shower running before speaking. “I wanted to surprise you with breakfast. I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“I don’t feel like breakfast,” Mo mumbled.
“I have eggs and hash browns. And toast. I even threw in a couple of blueberry waffles.”
“Blueberry waffles?” Mo said, her face softening. “You hate eating blueberry waffles in the morning.”
“You don’t.”
Mo’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t believe I yelled at you for bringing me breakfast. I just . . . I didn’t expect you to be here.”
“You didn’t want me to know you’ve been getting up early.” Lesley wanted to hug her, but didn’t know if she’d receive a hug or a slap in the face in return. She lowered herself into the chair so she wouldn’t tower over Mo. “Kary said you’re having a problem sleeping.”
“Kary’s got a big mouth,” Mo muttered.
“What’s bothering—”
“You know, we should eat that breakfast before it gets cold.” Mo stepped toward Lesley, hesitated, then held out her arms.
Lesley pulled Mo onto her lap and held her tight. She’d let Mo get away with diverting the conversation—for now.
Mo pulled back. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m all sweaty.”
“If you hadn’t done it, I would have, given that irresistible outfit you’re wearing.”
Mo looked down at herself. “I didn’t want to wake Kary up. And nobody ever notices.”