Page 30 of Bound by Stars

Jupiter

Eighteen days to Mars

In the hall, Weslie squeezes my hand and cuts to the left.

The stairwell is colder like it’s more exposed to space, too unused or unimportant to heat.

Our shoes clink against the metal stairs, echoing behind us like a trail of past moments trapped in the upper levels.

As we cross another landing, I run my hand along the railing and peer down through the open cavern in the center.

Weak light traces flights of stairs and platforms spiraling down into complete darkness.

Weslie hits a button on sublevel three, and I expect a dark cargo hold, empty and private, but noise bursts through the open door.

The narrow hall is packed. Ceiling low. Light dim.

All conversations are at full volume, like no one cares who hears them or what they think.

Pulsing music grows under the voices until we pass into a dark room where bright-colored laser lights swing around the space, swirling and crossing and illuminating the tightly packed throng of bodies inside.

The air reminds me of the greenhouses at home, warm and humid.

Along the perimeter of the circular room, people shout to each other, spilling their drinks and laughing.

In the center, a tangle of arms and bobbing heads move together to the thumping bass.

Inside the door, Weslie stops, pushing my jacket off my shoulders. Her fingers run over my arms, and my heart beats faster. She tugs on a sleeve, and I untangle from the coat. Tossing it on the back of an empty chair, she takes my hand again.

Weslie pulls me along, weaving between dancers and clearing a path through the crowd. She doesn’t stop until we’re in the center of the room smashed between bodies, all writhing and bouncing with the music.

I lean in close to Weslie’s ear. “Are you going to be okay?” I’ve noticed how she avoids the elevator. She’s not a fan of tight spaces, but here, packed in with all these people, she looks at home.

“Are you?” she shouts over the noise, already jumping with the others. Tilting her face to the high ceiling, she closes her eyes like she’s bathing in sunlight instead of packed into a pulsing mob at the center of a dark room.

From the mezzanine surrounding the dance floor, a man hangs over the railing, cupping his hands around his mouth and whooping. Everyone in the room joins in.

Bright green light flashes across my face, turning Weslie into a dark silhouette. Her shoulders sway with the beat as she moves with the other dancers. Completely uninhibited. Free. No sign of the usual protective mask she wears upstairs.

In the chaos, noise, and darkness, my mind wanders through the scenes her stories have painted for me.

The garden behind her house. The fruit orchards.

Her mother’s cluttered worktop. The paths between the oak trees.

And I imagine myself there with her, her face the way it looks now.

Unguarded. Happy. And a deep ache builds in my chest. For a place I’ve never been.

Never seen. For a life I’ve never had. But in this moment, it feels possible.

I reach for her, but a woman with glitter painted across her cheeks rolls between us, holding my chest and passing inches from my face before being swallowed into the crowd again.

Two men cut through the dancing mob, bridging their hands over and around me, forcing me into their rhythm for a beat. They release me and come back together on my other side, pressing close as purple light passes over them.

“Did you want to go back?” Weslie shouts close to my ear.

I realize I’ve been standing still. A spectator. Entranced. “No.”

She lays a hand on my shoulder, moving with the music again as it builds like we’re waiting for an explosion.

The bass vibrates in the floor, through my shoes.

The beat drops and the energy surges, movements bigger.

Everyone follows the same rhythm, but they all dance for themselves.

There’s a total freedom in it that I’ve never seen before.

A warm, glowing sensation bleeds through me, filling me.

I bounce and sway with the crowd, giving in to the push and pull of collective movement, the energy, the music, the euphoria.

The song morphs into something gentler, more rhythmic. My mind goes numb. My breaths and heartbeat merge with the pulsing music. The bass reverberates in my ears, drowning out thought.

Weslie spins and catches herself against my chest, laughing. Her face inches from mine, but she doesn’t push away.

I press my hands to her back, pulling her close, holding her gaze. I could live in this moment forever, wrapped up in noise, the smell of sweat and spilled drinks permeating the sweltering air. No expectations. No future. No past. Just now. The rhythm and the beat. Movement. Sensation. And Weslie.

She leans in closer.

The crowd shifts, knocking us off balance. Bodies crash into us and I’m swept away, losing her in the tangle of limbs and darkness. Arms reach out of the shifting crowd, catching me before I hit the ground.

A blue light flashes over Weslie’s face as she pulls me back to her.

Her lips part against my ear, sending a tingling rush down my neck, spreading through my lungs, crashing into the pit of my stomach. “Come on.”

She guides me, more slowly this time, through the dark. At the side of the room, the flashing and swinging lights above the dance floor cast an electric glow across the faces in the crowd.

She spins back toward me. Soft pink light sweeps over us, highlighting her freckled skin.

Heat builds in my chest. I search her eyes, gaze flickering to her mouth. Desperate to pick up where we left off. Dying to know what she’s feeling.

Her hand slides up my neck to the edge of my jaw and something coils inside of me, aching for release.

I lean in, closing the distance slowly.

“You two lost?” A familiar voice cuts through the music and a hand claps hard against my shoulder.

Weslie dips her head away and takes a step back. “Reve, did you just get here?”

“Had to finish my shift in the cargo bay. I guess I’m later than I thought.

” A dim purple light flashes through the dark edge of the room, illuminating his scowl.

He scans me like he’s assessing a low-level threat.

Completely different from the silent, stone-faced porter who escorted me to my family’s quarters after the captain caught us leaving the docking bay. “What’s the heir doing here?”

“We were…uh…” Weslie bites her lips, gaze flicking between us like she doesn’t know the answer. I’ve never seen her this nervous.

I frown. “Having a good time like everyone else.”

One edge of Reve’s mouth pulls upward with his eyebrow. “Is slumming it in second class part of your Earth Experience Mission, Dalloway?”

I hold his stare for a beat before meeting Weslie’s eyes. I raise my voice over the music. “No. I don’t believe in that classist bullshit.”

“That’s cute,” Reve says flatly, slapping my back and angling himself between me and Weslie. He turns to the wide-shouldered blond man beside him with a cup to his lips. “This is Wes. The friend I was telling you about. We’ve known each other forever.”

I take a deep breath, sidestepping out from behind him.

He puts his hand on her arm, roping off my access. “She’s a robotics genius and won herself a first-class ticket.”

The stranger wipes his mouth against his sleeve, eyes widening. “No shit? What’s it like up there?”

Weslie glances at me, sounding unsure as she answers, “Fancy?”

“Damn, I bet.” Reve’s blond friend raises his cup, taking another drink that dribbles down one side of his chin.

Reve steps closer to Weslie, taking her hand. “You still owe me that tour of your room we talked about.”

Weslie’s eyes shift between him and me and back again.

What is with her and this guy? If anyone else said something like that, she’d decimate them in under ten words. It’s like her personality setting has been dialed down. The difference between ILSA and a tow-bot.

Reve thinks he’s going to scare me off. But I’ve known guys like him. Self-assured to a fault and enough charm to feel powerful. He sees me as easy competition.

I touch Weslie’s arm. “I should get back. Did you want to stay?”

“It’s still early,” Reve says, moving even closer to her.

This guy is shameless.

I hold her gaze. You good? I mouth.

She lays a hand against his chest.

My insides tie into knots. I drop my chin and suck in a shaky breath. She’s made her choice.

Weaving my way through the packed room, I keep my eyes forward, no matter how much I want to look back.

The air in the empty hallway is cold against my hot face, clearing my mind.

Why am I giving up so easily? What happened between us out on the dance floor, I didn’t imagine that.

She wanted to be there with me. If Reve hadn’t shown up, we would have…

My imagination flashes pictures of Weslie pressed against Reve, bright-colored light streaked across their faces as their mouths move closer. My throat tightens, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

If she wants him, it’s none of my business. She doesn’t owe me anything.

I punch the button to open the stairwell door and hurry inside and up the steps.

Someone stops the door from automatically shutting behind me. “Hey! Wait up, Big Six.”

My shoulders soften. I exhale; I couldn’t stop the smile tugging at the edges of my mouth if I tried. I grab the railing and lean over to see Weslie on the lower landing. “Do you have to keep calling me that?”

Across the gap of empty space in the center of the stairwell, she smirks up at me. “Yes.”

I shake my head as she climbs the steps. Heat lingers in her pink face, though she has to be freezing in this icy, forgotten part of the ship.

She offers me the coat I left behind and I wrap it around her bare shoulders.

Her fingertips run down my forearm, over the inside of my wrist, sending an electric current through my body. She picks up my right hand, tracing the outer edge of my palm around the bandage. “Does it still hurt?”

“A little.” My voice comes out breathless. I clear my throat. “It’s healing fast, though. ILSA does good work.”

I watch her climb the next set of stairs, clenching my hand around the lingering sensation, the memory of her touch.