Once An Eve Novel
glasses for Caleb and me. “You did good,” he whispered, handing me one.
“Eve stole them from Charles Harris’s office,” Caleb added, as if that provided some greater understanding.
Even Jo laughed. “ The Charles Harris? The King’s Head of Development?”
I nodded, taking a sip of the drink. It tasted similar to the beer they made in Califia. “I brought them to you as soon as I could.” I stared at Curtis, waiting for him to respond—to say thank you, to apologize, anything—but he kept his eyes on the papers, studying the new route. It was a long while before he even looked up.
We were all watching him. He glanced around the room and shrugged. “You’re the King’s daughter,” he said, adjusting his glasses on his nose. “What do you expect?”
Jo looked up at me, her eyes rimmed with thick black eyeliner. “We made a mistake.” She glanced sideways at Curtis. “It’s hard to know who to trust. We just lost some of our own because of leaked information.”
Harper sat down beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “That’s their code for ‘sorry,’” he whispered. He took another swig of his drink.
“With the new plans, it can’t be more than a week off,” Caleb offered. He kneeled down beside Curtis and traced the distance to the wall. “I’ve already alerted Moss to let him know that construction will move forward tomorrow. He’s contacting the Trail.”
“I can get thirty workers by the afternoon,” Jo said, looking at her watch. Her blond dreadlocks were tied back with a strip of red fabric. “I’ll get the contacts coming off the night shifts.”
“Curtis, I’ll trust you to run construction while I’m at the other site tomorrow morning,” Caleb added. Curtis rolled up the papers and tucked them in his knapsack. He nodded, his eyes moving from Caleb to me.
“Which means,” Harper said, jumping up from the mattress, “instead of commiserating, we should be celebrating.” He went over to a stereo on the dresser and popped in a disc like the ones I’d seen at School. The room filled with low music, a silly song with a man speaking the lyrics. He did the mash , it played. He did the Monster Mash. The Monster Mash. It was a graveyard smash!
Caleb laughed. “What is this, Harper?” he asked.
Harper kicked a few crumpled shirts out of the way to clear a dance floor. “This is the only CD I have that works. Halloween songs or not, it’s still music.”
Harper spun around, his beer sloshing in the glass as he pulled Jo along in his wake. She sidestepped some crumpled newspapers, laughing the whole way. I sat on the mattress, watching as Caleb joined in, halfheartedly shaking his hips, to Harper’s delight. “Woohoo!” Harper yelled. “Atta boy!”
It took me a moment to realize Curtis had sat down beside me. “I doubted you,” he said, so low I could barely hear it over the music. “We’ve been working on that tunnel for the last three months and because of you, we just might finish.” He offered his hand. “You’re one of us now.”
I took it in my own. “I always was,” I said. “The King may be my father, but I’ve been in the wild, the Schools. I know what he’s done.”
The music filled the small room. Curtis was quiet for a moment, considering what I’d said. “It just takes me a long time to trust someone. Most people in the Outlands don’t even know my real name.”
“Enough of your yapping!” Harper interrupted us. He grabbed my arm, pulling me up from the floor. He twirled me once, quickly, his limbs loose from all the beer. “Let’s enjoy ourselves for one night. Come on, Curtis—on your feet, man! Otherwise I’ll do it—I will,” he threatened, grabbing the straps of his robe, ready to open it.
Curtis held up his hands in surrender. He joined in, shuffling awkwardly around the cramped room. Caleb took my hand, spun me around, and dipped me so fast my stomach felt light. His green eyes met mine, our faces just inches apart as we stayed there for a second, listening to the silly chorus.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear. “Do you want to go?” he asked.
He smiled at me, the same smile I’d seen so many times before. I loved every part of him. The smell of his skin, the scar on his cheek, the feel of his fingers pressing into my back. The way he could tell what I was thinking just by looking at me.
“Yes,” I said finally, my skin hot beneath his hand. “I thought you’d never
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