Solstice (24 page)

He didn’t answer. When I looked up, he was staring down at his desk.

“Sol?”

He didn’t move. I stood and crossed to him, wanting to touch him, but not daring to. He looked up, his eyes haunted.

I didn’t want to ask, but did anyway. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, standing from his chair, putting plenty of distance between us. “It’s a great project, Jez,” he said. “I don’t think anyone’s attempted anything like it—at least at our level.”

“But what?” I prompted, breathing a little easier.

“I know why you’re doing this,” he whispered.

I waited, wondering if he really did.

He kept his voice quiet. “You want to do field research—visit the C level people—find Chalice.”

I flinched. “Maybe.”

“It’s too dangerous, Jez,” he said.

“Everything
is dangerous,” I whispered, tears rushing to my eyes. My voice felt raw when I added, “Just the two of us in the room alone together is dangerous.”

He stared at me for a moment. “More dangerous than you know.” It was as if his words had physically touched me. The back of my neck was on fire, and the room was suddenly too hot. But he didn’t come any closer.

“Do you think it’s possible to cure a disease?” I asked, moving the topic away from us
.

“If it wasn’t possible, then the scientists wouldn’t bother trying.” He held my gaze. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. I wanted to step into his arms and hear him tell me again how he felt about me.

“Okay, then,” I said, slowly, to stop the building tremor in my voice. “I guess we’ll see what we can research.”

I walked toward the door, feeling as if I were wading through thick mud. I had to force one foot in front of the other.

“Jez?” Sol said.

I stopped, but didn’t turn, not wanting to see that look in his eyes. The one where he looked tortured and confused at the same time.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier. It’s not fair to you.” He paused, and I waited with my back to him. So he was taking it back. I waited for him to finish. “You know I’ll always protect you. I won’t be the cause of you getting into trouble.”

That was it. He wouldn’t let this go any further. It was one slipup, one confession, and now it was over. I took a deep breath, when all I wanted to do was scream, and slowly turned around. “I can take care of myself, Sol.” Tears splashed onto my cheeks. “Remember, I’m the one who hugged you.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking tired and defeated. “But if Daniel hadn’t come in . . . ”

I waited for him to continue. He closed his eyes for a second and let out a sigh. Finally he opened them, his expression determined. “It won’t happen again. I promise you.” His eyes searched mine. I didn’t know what he wanted me to say.

I wanted to cry and shout at him for ruining our friendship. But mostly, I wanted to hold him and be held by him and tell him how I felt the same way. But I knew that would only make it harder. For me. Whatever Sol was battling against, and however this came upon him, I felt it even more deeply.

I left the room. Sol didn’t follow, and the door slid shut between us.

Maybe I should request to be altered. Maybe I should leave the University.

The night crept by and still I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t get Sol out of my mind. Was his Harmony implant no longer working? Did he have . . . feelings? Or was this some sort of cruel test?

I let out a sigh and turned over, resting my head on the inside of my arm. In spite of all the times I’d dreamed about it, I never thought that Sol would actually say those things to me. I closed my eyes, remembering how he was in A Level. Always friendly and seeming to understand me. Had he felt the same way then, and assumed it would go away when we were Separated? Did he feel as much for me as I felt for him?

But
I
was always the one who was adamant about following the rules. He’d been to Detention a few times. Now that I thought about it, though, the reasons for his Detentions—things like,
I slept in and missed class
—had sounded like reasonable excuses at the time but I didn’t know for sure whether they were the truth.

Could he be a Clinical? I dismissed that idea immediately. If he’d been a Clinical, wouldn’t he have been put through testing like me?

Or maybe he was much better at hiding it than I was. I thought of the risk he took telling me about the Before. I thought of how smart he was, how easily he learned, and how he seemed to never forget a detail. Was it possible for someone to be as gifted as him and not have the full scope of emotions to complement his intellect?

Maybe that’s why he was trying so hard to impress the professors. He was trying to keep their attention on his knowledge and not his emotions.

Of all people, Sol would know the danger in having feelings for me. He’d be able to study each angle and reason out in his mind to arrive at exactly why he shouldn’t even be speaking to me. That he had failed and let his feelings get in the way was uncharacteristic.

I blew out a breath and pulled my blanket over my shoulders. The way he had looked at me, and the things he’d said, caused me to shiver in a way that made me warm to my toes.

When I’d hugged him, he’d immediately responded, as if he’d been waiting a long time to hold me. Our bodies had fit together perfectly, and for an instant I felt safe, like I had nothing to worry about.

I clenched the top of the blanket to my chin, and my breathing came fast. I ached all over. Ached to see him. Ached to wrap my arms around his neck again.

For a moment, I didn’t place any blame on my grandmother for breaking the rules. But she’d been executed for it. I clenched my hands together and suppressed a scream of frustration. My eyes burned with unshed tears as I tried to push everything Sol out of my mind.

Our project was approved by one of the science professors, Dr. Luke. My science group met together every few days to discuss additional bits of research. Sol and I kept a careful distance from each other, maybe overdoing it, but it seemed to work.

Yet each night I clutched my blanket around me as if it could somehow replace Sol’s arms, and had to talk myself into sleeping. It was impossible that Sol was experiencing emotions like I was. But if he did experience even mild emotions, they would seem overwhelming to him. That was the answer. Somehow his implant had lost its potency. The emotions he felt were confusing, and since we were close in A Level, he automatically focused them on me.

I breathed easier when I arrived at that conclusion. Now I just had to worry about how I reacted to him. I had to find a way to suppress the desire I had to be around him and to hear him repeat every word he spoke.

The weeks passed slowly as I tried to put distance between myself and Sol.

My restriction was lifted, but I now had no cause to break curfew. Sol had kept his commitment and there was no communication between us except for in our science group. It was just as well, and with diligence, I hoped to forget that anything had happened between us at all.

Today, Sol watched me enter the class right before our science group. He looked tired, with dark circles under his eyes and his face unusually pale. My first instinct was to ask him what was wrong, to take care of him in some way, but I pushed those thoughts away. As I sat at my desk, his eyes were on me. My heart flipped, but I chastised myself and quickly looked away, focusing instead on Serah and Daniel.

Sol was probably fine, and I wasn’t going to even think about him today. I didn’t waste any time presenting the information I’d put together. “Dr. Luke authorized us to view an image of a skin disease that might be a good candidate for our research.” I pulled up an image on my tablet.

Serah’s eyes widened as she studied the raised dots that ran along a woman’s leg. “What is it called?”

“It’s similar to what used to be called eczema,” I said. “A skin condition that is prevalent in the C Level workers who spend every day working with hot water.”

“And how is this deadly?” Daniel asked.

“The rash itself is only an irritation,” I said. “Dr. Luke said those who carry the rash are more likely to suffer from River Fever, and it’s more common in women than men.”

Sol looked down at the notes I had forwarded to everyone. “The River Fever kills about one percent of the C Level population each year.”

“Those are the numbers from a few years ago,” I said. “I’ve requested to get current numbers and should have those any day. But whether it’s one percent or higher, it might be something we can prevent if we find a cure for the rash itself.”

Sol appraised me, his tired eyes actually looking impressed.

I hoped he wasn’t becoming ill, but I quickly dismissed my concern. I’d kept my part of the agreement, and we hadn’t spent any time together outside of this science group. I always arrived just a few minutes late so that I wouldn’t have to face Sol alone, and I made sure that I was the first one to leave.

During the three weeks since Sol had told me we had to stop talking, I felt the distance widen between us each day. I should have been relieved. It hadn’t become easier for me, but I trusted that it was for him.

After we discussed our ideas for curing the rash that preceded River Fever, I made it a point to be the first one to leave the room, Serah right behind me. Over the past couple of weeks, she had softened toward me and was actually actively interested in the project now.

“Wait, Jez,” Sol’s voice called behind me.

I paused at the door as Daniel and Serah filed past.

The door slid shut, and I stayed by it.

“Can I talk to you outside?”

I hesitated.
Now
he wanted to talk to me? What did he have to say that he was worried about being overheard in the classroom? This was definitely going against our agreement. I slipped out the door, not looking behind to see if he was following. Exiting the building, I walked around the corner, and stood under an awning. It was dark outside; streetlamps lit the way back to the dorm buildings. I was in plain sight of anyone passing by, but the campus seemed quiet—most students were inside somewhere out of the rain.

Buttoning my jacket against the cool air, I waited for Sol. A few minutes later, he came around the corner.

“I just wanted to say thanks,” Sol said as he approached.

I folded my arms and peered at him through the shadow cast by the awning. “So you had to tell me out here?”

“It’s too risky inside. I don’t want anyone to . . . walk in on us.”

I didn’t exactly believe his answer, but I decided to let him finish whatever he wanted to say.

“I want to apologize for being so brusque before, too,” he said. “I don’t want you to feel like this is your fault in any way, when it’s mine. You’re just being yourself, your friend self.” His voice was low against the sound of rain tapping the awning overhead. He took a step forward, his eyes holding mine.

My heart hammered.
Don’t come any closer.
I couldn’t look away from the dark gray in his eyes.

“I don’t want you to worry about me,” Sol said. “I’m not going to say any more crazy things or break any rules.”

“That’s good to hear.” I wished he wouldn’t look so serious, so pained.

He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and straightened. “I’m pulling myself off of this project.”

“Why?” I was shocked. Sol was a key member of our group, and without him and his relationships with the instructors, I didn’t know if we would succeed.

“Because it’s not getting easier,” he whispered. “It’s getting worse.”

The rhythm of my heart changed at the soulful look in his eyes. I was grateful for the darkness because I was sure my cheeks were turning red. “But I haven’t been following you or sending messages; we barely speak.”

“I know.” He looked away. “It’s for the best—for both of us.”

He was right, but I didn’t want him to be. “How do you know it’s best?” I couldn’t breathe right. “Maybe I can help you.”

He looked at me, his brows drawn together. “Don’t you understand? I can’t be around you—it only makes it worse.”

“Sol, I’ve had . . . emotions since I was born. My caretakers taught me how to suppress them. I didn’t know until I went to prison that there was a name for it—”

“You told me. You’re a Clinical. But I can’t found any information about them.” His voice sounded as frustrated as I felt inside. “How do you know that you were told the truth?”

“It makes more sense than anything else, at least for me,” I said. “For you, I think the only other explanation is that your Harmony implant is no longer effective.”

Sol tilted his head, watching me closely. “Do you think I’m a Clinical?”

“I don’t think so,” I said slowly. “You would have been struggling with emotions since childhood.” I hesitated. “How long have you been . . . feeling like this?”

He didn’t have to think about it. “Since I met you.”

I looked away from his absorbing gaze, trying to let the information sink in. We’d been friends for over a year. This wasn’t going to be as easy to explain as I thought. “Are you sure?” I said, not daring to meet his eyes.

“I thought I was going crazy at first. I watched you even when you weren’t watching me, just to see if you felt the same way.”

My chest felt like it might explode. He shouldn’t be saying these things to me.

“You were always different, Jez,” he continued while I remained silent. “And it’s not because you’re a Clinical, or whatever you call yourself. It’s because you’re
you.”

If it was
me,
then maybe he was right, maybe it would be better if he left the project.

“I thought it might get easier,” he said in a subdued voice. “After the Separation. But it hasn’t.” He took a step toward me. There was nowhere for me to back up. “No matter how you define it, or explain it away, I know what this really is.”

“What?” I whispered, my heart beating so hard that I thought I might not hear his next words.

“I’ve fallen in love with you.”

I stared in horror at Sol. “There must be a cure.” But even as I said it, my heart was soaring. He said he loved me—it was what I’d hoped for, and never thought possible. But I couldn’t let this happen, and I couldn’t let him know what I felt in return. Our lives depended on it.