He needed to stop. He needed to focus.

He’d gotten so good at focusing over the last year. Tuning out distractions. His father’s campaign manager had complimented him on how well he’d done since they’d hit the road. He’d even steered clear of starting a new relationship after his latest messy breakup, to avoid causing another scandal before the election.

Then he met Maisie, with her hair, and her cute little walk, and the way she’d looked at him when he’d made the joke about her punching people for him.

He was ignoring it. He was being good.

It didn’t matter, anyway. She had shown no interest in him, beyond an appreciation for his running skills.

Well, she did seem to find him kind of funny.

But even if there was a spark, now was certainly not the time. They were in the middle of something. Something that might get them shot. Or blown up by drones.

The breeze blew over a whiff of her hair again. Dammit.

He just needed to think about something else. Like…his shoulder, which still hurt. Maisie fixing his shoulder. The way she was always so calm under pressure, and brave, and—

Dammit.

Maisie pointed ahead, to where the patch of lights was growing brighter and bigger. “Let’s just go straight in, all right? Act like we belong.”

“Always a solid plan.” He looked down at his clothes. “Any idea if we’ll fit in? You know anything about the fashion up here?”

“Should be similar. I’ve caught a glimpse of northerners when they drop the shipments in the neutral zone, and they weren’t wearing anything too wild.”

He tugged the mask out of the front of his shirt. “You think they do this? Sew masks into their shirts?”

“Probably. That started not long after quarantine was first declared, when it was just one big Q.” She glanced at him. “Actually, put it on if you see a lot of people with theirs on. In Lopez territory, we suggest people wear them during the more intense outbreaks.”

“You don’t really need one, do you?”

She shook her head. “I still wear it, though. Most people don’t know the truth about me.”

“Why not?”

“No need to be an asshole about it.”

“Sure.” He paused. “You know, just because they said you can’t visit once doesn’t mean that’s the answer forever. We could try to convince them on the other—”

“Lennon, let it go.”

“You won’t even—”

“No. I don’t want to live out there. They’d probably just lock me up and run tests forever anyway.”

He frowned. “I don’t think they’d do that. You could—”

“Lennon, seriously.” Her tone turned sharp. “Drop it.”

He couldn’t even pretend to understand why she would want to stay here, but he smiled like he wasn’t completely baffled by her life choices. Maybe he’d try again later, when they were closer. “Got it. Sorry.”

—

The small town was clearly built post-quarantine. Lennon had compared an old map to the new, and he was pretty sure this area had been mostly suburban homes before the walls went up.