The Host (The Host #1)(106)

“I’m fine,” I told him. But I held my arms out, seeking comfort. He threw his arms around my waist, and I was shocked to find that his head could rest on my shoulder while we stood.

“Your eyes are red,” he whispered. “Was he mean to you?”

“No.” After all, people weren’t intentionally cruel to lab rats—they were just trying to get information.

“Whatever you said to him, I think he believes us now. About Mel, I mean. How does she feel?”

“She’s glad about that.”

He nodded, pleased. “How about you?”

I hesitated, looking for a factual response. “Telling the truth is easier for me than trying to hide it.”

My evasion seemed to answer the question enough to satisfy him.

Behind him, the light in the garden was red and fading. The sun had already set on the desert.

“I’m hungry,” I told him, and I pulled away from our hug.

“I knew you would be. I saved you something good.”

I sighed. “Bread’s fine.”

“Let it go, Wanda. Ian says you’re too self-sacrificing for your own good.”

I made a face.

“I think he’s got a point,” Jamie muttered. “Even if we all want you here, you don’t belong until you decide you do.”

“I can’t ever belong. And nobody really wants me here, Jamie.”

“I do.”

I didn’t fight with him, but he was wrong. Not lying, because he believed what he was saying. But what he really wanted was Melanie. He didn’t separate us the way he should.

Trudy and Heidi were baking rolls in the kitchen and sharing a bright green, juicy apple. They took turns taking bites.

“It’s good to see you, Wanda,” Trudy said sincerely, covering her mouth while she spoke because she was still chewing her last bite. Heidi nodded in greeting, her teeth sunk in the apple. Jamie nudged me, trying to be inconspicuous about it—pointing out that people wanted me. He wasn’t making allowances for common courtesy.

“Did you save her dinner?” he asked eagerly.

“Yep,” Trudy said. She bent down beside the oven and came back with a metal tray in her hand. “Kept it warm. It’s probably nasty and tough now, but it’s better than the usual.”

On the tray was a rather large piece of red meat. My mouth started to water, even as I rejected the portion I’d been allotted.

“It’s too much.”

“We have to eat all the perishables the first day,” Jamie encouraged me. “Everyone eats themselves sick—it’s a tradition.”

“You need the protein,” Trudy added. “We were on cave rations too long. I’m surprised no one’s in worse shape.”

I ate my protein while Jamie watched with hawk-like attention as each bite traveled from the tray to my mouth. I ate it all to please him, though it made my stomach ache to eat so much.

The kitchen started to fill up again as I was finishing. A few had apples in their hands—all sharing with someone else. Curious eyes examined the sore side of my face.

“Why’s everyone coming here now?” I muttered to Jamie. It was black outside, the dinner hour long over.

Jamie looked at me blankly for a second. “To hear you teach.” His tone added the words of course.

“Are you kidding me?”

“I told you nothing’s changed.”

I stared around the narrow room. It wasn’t a full house. No Doc tonight, and none of the returned raiders, which meant no Paige, either. No Jeb, no Ian, no Walter. A few others missing: Travis, Carol, Ruth Ann. But more than I would have thought, if I’d thought anyone would consider following the normal routine after such an abnormal day.

“Can we go back to the Dolphins, where we left off?” Wes asked, interrupting my evaluation of the room. I could see that he’d taken it upon himself to start the ball rolling, rather than that he was vitally interested in the kinship circles of an alien planet.

Everyone looked at me expectantly. Apparently, life was not changing as much as I’d thought.

I took a tray of rolls from Heidi’s hands and turned to shove it into the stone oven. I started talking with my back still turned.

“So… um… hmm… the, uh, third set of grandparents… They traditionally serve the community, as they see it. On Earth, they would be the breadwinners, the ones who leave the home and bring back sustenance. They are farmers, for the most part. They cultivate a plant-like growth that they milk for its sap.…”

And life went on.

Jamie tried to talk me out of sleeping in the supply corridor, but his attempt was halfhearted. There just wasn’t another place for me. Stubborn as usual, he insisted on sharing my quarters. I imagined Jared didn’t like that, but as I didn’t see him that night or the next day, I couldn’t verify my theory.

It was awkward again, going about my usual chores, with the six raiders home—just like when Jeb had first forced me to join the community. Hostile stares, angry silences. It was harder for them than it was for me, though—I was used to it. They, on the other hand, were entirely unaccustomed to the way everyone else treated me. When I was helping with the corn harvest, for example, and Lily thanked me for a fresh basket with a smile, Andy’s eyes bulged in their sockets at the exchange. Or when I was waiting for the bathing pool with Trudy and Heidi, and Heidi began playing with my hair. It was growing, always swinging in my eyes these days, and I was planning to shear it off again. Heidi was trying to find a style for me, flipping the strands this way and that. Brandt and Aaron—Aaron was the oldest man who’d gone on the long raid, someone I couldn’t remember having seen before at all—came out and found us there, Trudy laughing at some silly atrocity Heidi was attempting to create atop my head, and both men turned a little green and stalked silently past us.