Mr. Chambers sighed heavily. “You know that all fighting is against school policy, Mr. Thorne. I’m afraid this calls for a one-week suspension. For all four of you.”
“Wait—no!” said Kate. Then, to Carswell’s surprise, she laced their fingers together. He blinked at their hands, then up at her profile, and doubted she even realized she was doing it. “Carswell was defending me. They’d taken my portscreen and wouldn’t give it back. It’s not his fault!”
The vice principal was shaking his head, and though Carswell could tell he felt bad about the decision, he also had an expression that suggested there was nothing he could do about it. “School rules, Miss Fallow.”
“But that isn’t fair. He didn’t do anything wrong!”
“It’s a no-tolerance policy. I’m sorry, but we can’t make exceptions.” Mr. Chambers glanced back at the other boys. “Mr. Keller, Mr. Doughty, Mr. Mancuso—you can follow me to my office so we can comm your parents. Miss Fallow, why don’t you assist Mr. Thorne to see the med-droid.” He attempted sympathy when he met Carswell’s one-eyed gaze again. “We’ll comm your parents later.”
Chin falling to his chest, Carswell cursed under his breath. This was also against school policy, but Mr. Chambers blessedly ignored it.
“Miss Fallow, I’ll alert your teacher to forgive your absence for this period.”
“Thank you, Mr. Chambers,” she murmured, full of resignation.
As Jules and his friends were escorted away, Carswell allowed himself to lean against Kate and push himself onto his wobbly legs, with another handful of curses and groans.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered as he draped an arm around her shoulders and she began escorting him toward the med-droid office.
“Not your fault,” he said through his teeth. Although, now that he had the strenuous effort of walking to focus on, the pain almost seemed to be dulling. Almost. “You get your portscreen?”
“Yes. Thank you. And I got your bag.” Then she huffed angrily. “I can’t believe they’re suspending you. It isn’t fair.”
He tried to shrug, but it came out as a more general flopping of his free arm. “I was already grounded for mid-July break. A suspension can’t make it that much worse.”
“Grounded? For what?”
His gaze flickered to her, and he couldn’t avoid a wry smile, even though it pinched his throbbing cheekbone. “Poor math grade.”
She flushed. “Oh.”
Carswell pressed a hand against his ribs, finding that by applying a slight amount of pressure he could relieve some of the jarring as they walked. “Yep, I’m grounded until I bring my score back up. Of course, that’s not going to happen now that I can’t even go to class.” He tried to laugh as if it didn’t bother him, but quickly realized what a bad idea that was, and the sound turned into something of a pained cough. “Oh well. Just more time to catch up on my Joel Kimbrough reading, I guess.”
She tried to giggle, maybe to make him feel better, but it didn’t sound any more authentic than his laugh had.
“When you’re done,” she said, “I’m sure you could write an amazing paper that explores the parallels between the dangers of space travel as compared to navigating school hallways and social status and … and…”
“And parents.”
Her laugh was less forced this time. “And parents, of course.”
“I suspect that Martians have pretty much always symbolized parents in those books.”
“They must, being that they’re so … otherworldly.”
“And terrifying.”
This time, her laugh wasn’t forced at all, and it gave Carswell a warm, tender feeling somewhere under all the bruising. He wished he could have laughed with her without it causing a flash of pain in his skull.
“Think Professor Gosnel would give me extra credit?”
“I’m sure she would,” said Kate. But then her sympathy was back. “It wouldn’t help with your math grade, though.”
“True. If only studying algebra formulas was half as much fun as corny space adventures.”
“If only.” Pursing her lips, Kate glanced up at him through her cascade of hair. Then she took in a deep breath. “I’ll let you copy my math homework.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Until … until your grade is up. And when we come back from break, I can help you study, if you still want me to.”
“Thank you.” He smiled, and he didn’t even have to fake his gratitude, though the relief came with that peculiar undercurrent of shame again. He knew that she felt guilty, that she felt as though she owed him something. He knew he was taking advantage of those feelings.
But he didn’t argue, and he didn’t reject her offer. Because in the back of his head, he was already counting up the hours this would save him, the money he could earn with that time. He was already moving past Kate and her portscreen and her gentle laugh and the lingering pain from his first fistfight.
Already, he was moving on to the next goal, the next dream, the next obstacle. Carswell grinned, just to the point where it started to hurt, and rubbed a thumb over his tie tack.
For luck.
After Sunshine Passes By
At nine years old, Crescent Moon was the youngest infantry soldier in Luna’s great warrior army. She stood at perfect attention in the front line of her platoon—back straight as a pin and arms locked at her sides. She was proud of her service to the queen. Already she had been hailed for her bravery and even honored with a medal of courage from Commander-General Sybil Mira after the battle of—
“Crescent.”
Mistress’s voice interrupted the fantasy, and Cress snapped a fist to her heart in salute. “Yes, Commander—um, I mean, Mistress?”
Some of the older kids snickered down the line and Cress felt her cheeks flame. Though she had pinned her gaze respectfully to the bunk beds against the opposite wall, she tore them away now to look at Mistress Sybil, who stood at the end of the long, narrow dormitory. Her lips were thinned and white.
Cress swallowed hard and lowered her hand. Her body shrank, mimicking the same meek posture the other kids had when they lined up for the monthly blood withdrawals. Of course, she wasn’t really a soldier. She wasn’t even sure what the word infantry meant. But that didn’t keep her from fantasizing, from imagining herself somewhere better than here. Anywhere but here.
She couldn’t understand why the other shells were so content to accept their stifled existence, why they mocked her for trying to escape, even if the escape was only in her own mind. Yet mock her they did. At least, until they wanted something from her; then they were sweet as syrup.
Sybil’s nostrils flared as she inhaled an impatient breath. “Did you hear what I said, Crescent?”
Cress racked her brain, even though she knew it was useless. Her face grew hotter as she shook her head.
“I was just telling the rest of your peers that we have received evidence that someone recently hacked into the feed of the educational programming intended for Luna’s most promising youth.” Her gray eyes narrowed at Cress. “I was unsurprised to find that the feed had been copied, and was now being broadcast here, in the shell dormitories. Can you explain this, Crescent?”
She swallowed and shrank back again, and her shoulder bumped into the boy beside her. “I … um…”