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“No, just looks like a nice day out there. Sunny.”

“It’s supposed to be warmer today,” Wyatt offers. “Maybe we could go for a walk after lunch. We’re allowed out as long as we stay in the green zone.”

“Sun exposure? To this flawless skin?” Aang shakes his head. “Count me out.”

“I’ll go.” Gretchen stares out the high windows. “I need some fresh air.”

“Same.” Evie cuts her chicken breast into neat strips.

“Oh, so everyone but me is going?” Aang drinks his soda with relish. “I guess I’ll go too. But I need to get my hat.” He stands and heads toward the elevators.

“Diva,” Evie says under her breath.

“You know it,” Aang calls back and puts more hips into his walk.

Once he’s gone, Evie says, “I know he seems like a pill, but once he warms up to you, you’ll love him.”

I shove a forkful of lettuce into my mouth and say “mmhmm” with as much enthusiasm as I can manage.

“Just wait. You’ll see.”

“Evie is our optimist.” Gretchen finishes her drink, getting every last drop from the can. “Wyatt is our pragmatist. Aang is our?—”

“Pessimist. Yep. I caught that.” I smirk.

“Takes all kinds, right?” Gretchen wipes her mouth.

By the time Aang returns, we’re all milling by the front doors.

“Ready.” He walks past us and swings the door open, the crisp air like a cool caress as I follow.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Gage smiles at us, his eyes lingering on me for a moment too long.

“Exercise.” Gretchen rolls down the sidewalk, her pink hair almost electric-looking in the sun.

“Yep.” Wyatt waves two fingers and follows, and Aang and Evie walk side-by-side behind him.

“You too?” Gage asks.

“Me too.”

“I didn’t take you as a joiner.” His eyes are shaded by the brim of his cap, the green of his uniform highlighting the deep auburn of his hair.

His counterpart stares off after the others, boredom written all over his features as he stifles a yawn.

“I can be peer pressured into tons of stuff.” I shrug.

“I’ll make a note of that.” Gage grins.

I reach down and fumble with my zipper, my fingers trying and failing to get it to catch.

“Allow me.” He gently moves my hands away, but not before I slip the scrap of paper between his fingers.

He doesn’t make any move to show surprise or even that he noticed. Instead, he easily fixes the zipper and pulls it up for me. “There you are. Ready to promenade.”

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” His smile is genuine, his eyes warm.