This isn’t real.
“Hey,” she says.
I hold still.
“Yeah?” I’m hardly breathing. I have to force myself to turn back an inch, meet her eyes.
“I wanted to tell you something. Last night. But I didn’t have the chance.”
“Oh.” I frown. “Okay.” There’s something in her voice that sounds almost like fear—and it clears my head in an instant. “Tell me.”
“Not here,” she says. “Not now.”
And I’m suddenly worried. “Is something wrong? Are you okay?”
“Oh—no— I mean, yeah— I’m fine. It’s just—” She hesitates. Offers me a half smile and a shrug. “I just wanted to tell you something. It’s nothing important.” She looks away, bites her lip. She bites that bottom lip a lot, I notice. “Well, it’s important to me, I guess.”
“Nazeera,” I say, enjoying the sound of her name in my mouth.
She looks up.
“You’re freaking me out a little. Are you sure you can’t tell me right now?”
She nods. Shoots me a tight smile. “No need to freak out, I promise. It’s really not a big deal. Maybe we can talk later tonight?”
My heart constricts again. “Sure.”
She nods once more. We say goodbye.
But when I glance back, not a second after I’ve started walking away, she’s already gone.
Disappeared.
Three
Warner is definitely pissed.
I’m super late, and Warner is waiting for me, perched carefully on a stiff chair in a conference room downstairs, staring at a wall.
I managed to snag a muffin on my way down, and I wipe quickly at my face, hoping I haven’t left evidence around my mouth. I don’t know how Warner feels about muffins, but I’m guessing he’s not a fan.
“Hey,” I say, and I sound out of breath. “What’d I miss?”
“This is my fault,” he says, waving a hand around the room. He doesn’t even look at me.
“I mean, I already know it’s your fault,” I say quickly, “but, like, just to be clear—what are we talking about?”
“This,” he says. Finally, he looks at me. “This situation.”
I wait.
“It’s my fault,” he says, pausing dramatically, “for thinking I could depend on you.”
I make an effort not to roll my eyes. “All right, all right, calm down. I’m here now.”
“You’re thirty minutes late.”
“Bro.”
Warner looks suddenly tired. “The children of the supreme commanders of Africa and South America are here. They’re waiting in the adjacent room.”
“Yeah?” I raise an eyebrow. “So what’s the deal? What do you need from me?”
“I need you to be present,” he says sharply. “I’m not sure I know exactly why they’re here, but all rational thought points to impending war. It’s my suspicion that they’re here to spy on us and send word back to their parents. They’ve sent their children to affect an air of camaraderie. A feeling of nostalgia. Maybe they think they can appeal to our new, young commander with other young faces. In any case, I think it’s important for us to show a strong, united front.”
“So no J, then, huh?”
Warner looks up. He seems stunned, and for a second I see something like pain in his eyes. I blink and he’s a statue again. “No,” he says. “I still haven’t seen her. And it’s more important than ever that they don’t know that.” He takes a breath. “Where’s Castle? He needs to be here, too.”
I shrug. “I thought he was already down here.”
“I saw him a moment ago. I’ll collect him.”
I drop down into a chair. “Cool.”
Warner walks to the door and then hesitates. Slowly, he turns to face me. “You’re having trouble again.”
I look up, surprised. “What?”
“In love. You’re having trouble in your love life. Is that why you were late?”
I feel the blood drain from my face. “How the hell would you know something like that?”
“You reek of it.” He nods at me, my body. “You’re practically emanating lovelorn agony.”
I stare at him, stunned. I don’t even know if it’s worth denying.
“It’s Nazeera, isn’t it?” Warner says. His eyes are clear, free of judgment.
I force myself to nod.