But we’d wait, we’d lie, and we’d confront the worst sides of ourselves, while trying to convince ourselves that we weren’t playing into the asshole’s plan by doing so.

⊙

The worst of ourselves. I hadn’t expected a crowd.

“What the hell do we even do about this?” Rain asked. “Christ.”

The swearing was a nice touch. In figuring out how to present the best picture for our would-be attackers, we’d started talking to each other about our tendencies and habits when stressed, reminding one another, or pointing out things we did that we weren’t even aware of. I’d told Rain he amped up the religious swears when the stress was at its highest.

We stood on a rooftop, looking down at the scene. A single street was littered with people from one intersection to the next. They weren’t shoulder to shoulder, but they were close enough that people had to weave and made it about ten steps before they had to ‘excuse me’ their way through. Most of the focus was around a single place, a bookstore, and the building interior was packed, with employees wearing store colors beneath jackets that weren’t store-branded, keeping too many people from making their way inside.

The people who weren’t indoors were watching through the store window. Though it was cold and the snow came down in thick wet bullets halfway between raindrop and snowflake, the crowd was more interested in watching than in seeking shelter. Large screens displayed the video feed from the inside.

I’d expected signs and angry cries. Instead, they were book readers. They were silent, intently focused on what was going on.

“You and Vista were getting chummy,” Rain said.

At first I thought he meant me. Then I saw him looking at Byron.

“She pranked me good. My head wasn’t anywhere near my armor, I was thinking a clasp was broken and it kept loosening.”

“She’s pretty cool,” Rain said. “Y’know?”

A little blunt there, Rain.

“She is,” Byron said. He glanced at me.

“No question. If the world had more Vistas, it’d be a better place.”

“You should talk to her more,” Rain said. “Ask her out or something.”

So damn blunt. You’re going to scare him off.

“Nah,” Byron said. “I shouldn’t. Wouldn’t be nice. I think ‘girl I’d want to spend the rest of my life with’ and I think of Moonsong. I think ‘attractive girl’ and I think of Moonsong. I think of girls I might take home for the Christmas holiday and I think of Moonsong taking off her coat in the entryway. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone, if I wasn’t totally over Moon.”

“Oh!” Sveta said. “This is a good opportunity.”

“What?” Byron asked. “For what?”

“That device Kenzie made, so whichever one of you two was stowed away could talk.”