Page 62 of Gunslinger Girl

They departed with grim determination.

Luster chewed at her bottom lip. “I can’t believe anyone would… How did they…” She shook her head. “You stay put. I’m going to get Max and then we’ll get you back to your—”

“No!” Pity cried. “I mean… I’m sure I can manage.”

Luster’s eyes narrowed. “There something other than an assassination attempt that you want to tell me about?”

Pity hesitated. She didn’t need to say anything. Max was no gossip. Her embarrassment didn’t need to be anything other than a regrettable secret, swiftly buried. And yet she spoke anyway. “Um… I… after the show, I tried to kiss Max.”

“Tried to kiss him?”

“I did kiss him. But he… he didn’t want to kiss me back.”

“Oh.” Luster pulled a stool over and sat. “Idiot.”

“I know, I never should have—”

“Not you, him!” Luster wrapped the robe tighter. “Stupid boy doesn’t know what’s good for him. No wonder he’s been scarce. He’s probably holed up in his room painting everything that isn’t moving. I swear, he’s the only soul in Cessation who doesn’t exorcise his demons by drinking, fighting, or—”

“Painting?” A fuzzy realization floated into her mind. “I’ve never even seen his room.”

“Not many have,” said Luster. “Look, I love Max. And Garland and Dutch and I are closer to him than anyone here. But sometimes he’s so… I don’t know. There’s a distance to him. And he gets into these moods. Like right before you arrived. I’d never seen him so morose.” She sighed. “Then he went off with Santino and Olivia, and by the time he got back, he was his old cheerful self. To be honest, I thought that was because of you.”

“Guess not.”

Luster nudged Pity’s good leg with her foot. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re not the first one to be taken in by that sunny smile of his. But whenever anyone tries to get too close… He’s never said anything, but I think there was someone before he came to Cessation.”

Is that it? He’s pining for someone else? Pity felt more foolish than ever. “Oh.”

Luster’s face puckered. “Don’t sound so defeated. You think if there were a happy ending to that story he’d be here now? Life goes on, if he’d be smart enough to realize it.”

Pity wiped at her eyes again, suddenly exhausted. “Lord, I’m so stupid. I almost died an hour ago and I’m sitting here talking about Max.”

“Well, if you had died, you couldn’t have done much about it, right? Max, on the other hand…” She shrugged. “Look, let’s get you back to your room and—”

“No,” she interjected. “Can you get me some clothes? I want to go to the Gallery.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re going after Daneko,” Pity said, grabbing her guns. “And I want to be there when they drag in the son of a bitch who almost got me killed.”

CHAPTER 20

It was partially true. There’d be no avoiding Max now, and Pity wanted to pick the battleground on which she faced him again—upright and resilient in the Gallery rather than lying in bed, looking like an invalid.

As she had expected, Max appeared quickly. Nervousness and anticipation snaked through her, twisting together in a perplexing knot as she stared at him from across the room. But before she could begin to unravel it, Max spotted her, the vague panic on his face relaxing only slightly. He rushed over, breathless, his silver piercings turned coppery by the Gallery’s low light.

“I went to the clinic when I heard, and then your room, but you weren’t—” He stopped when he spotted her bandaged leg, stretched out on one of the Gallery’s cushioned couches. “It’s true, you were shot?”

“Yes.” She kept her tone even. “It’s nothing serious.”

He stared, lips parted slightly. “But you—”

“I’m okay, Max.” A few days ago his concern would have been a balm. Now it grated on her, poked at the invisible wound. What hurts worse, she chided herself, your leg or your pride? “Dr. Starr patched me up.”

“Keep on the way you’re going,” Garland said as he returned from a trip to the bar, “and you’re going to be as patched as an old quilt. Here, it’s ginger ale.”

Pity used it to wash down one of Starr’s pills. Garland pushed in beside her so that she leaned against him. When he dropped an arm around her, she didn’t object; his scent drowned out the smell of blood that lingered in her nostrils. Being close to him sent a heady sensation through her, one she doubted came entirely from the painkillers. But guilt stained its edges. She stole a look at Max as Luster pulled him down beside her.