am squeezed. "I really thought they’d killed you that night."
"Sometimes I wish they had," I whisper into his chest.
I haven't seen him in a long time, not just the years Inanna stole from me either. My senior year at cadets was a flurry of a lot of things, one of which happened to be local freelance jobs supplied in quantity by Hand's father, Vincent, in exchange for money, weapons, armor, and a whole assortment of survival gear.
But that was also the year Gideon came home near death, I went insane and killed a bunch of mutant projects, Matthew stole my memories then tried to kill me on the sniper range, and I finally got my revenge.
It was never the same after that. And Hand never got to hear why.
"You've been on the news, Junco. Tonight, that rock-star chick, Cora? She said you commandeered her suborbital and held her hostage, all the while telling her how you planned on killing billions of people with your revenge."
I smile. "What a bitch."
Hand pulls his goggles down his face so they dangle over his chest and his dark brown eyes flash as he grins. "You just tell me what you need, Junco. I've got your back."
He's the same age as Gideon, but they've never met as far as I know. His black hair hangs all the way down his back, the same way it did when we were younger, and his skin is the perfect shade of golden brown when he gets a chance to stand in the sun.
"I'm surprised you recognized me, I don't exactly look like the old Junco, do I?" My leaky thoughts betray my insecurities with my new body, but Hand just shrugs.
"You look real good, if that's what you mean. And your hair is pretty fucking long, Juncs." He reaches out and lifts up a few strands. "I always thought you preferred it shorter."
"I do, but I've been kinda busy, haven't had time to chop it off. You wanna chop it off for me?"
He shakes his head. "Nah, I like it."
My face tingles and I turn away. "I need a bike. I gotta get back to Council 3, like yesterday. You got a bike I can take? I can pay—"
He waves his hand in front of me. "No, I'm not taking your money. I've got a bike. No big deal. But Council 3 is still off limits. They cleaned it up pretty well, there's even new growth in the worst areas now. But it's forbidden."
"I have a way to get past all that, don't worry. I have stuff there."
"It's probably gone, Juncs. Your dad—"
My exaggerated sigh interrupts him. "I know what he did was wrong, Hand. So please. I just need to get out there, I can't think about anything else right now. And my stuff will be there. It was designed to withstand more than a few nukes, believe me."
"Hey, Juncs?" He tilts my chin up until I look him in the eyes. "Your dad's crimes are not transferable here, OK? I said I have your back, and I mean it." I nod and he smiles and lightens things up. "Now get your little ass in here and say hello to everyone." He claps me on the back as I pass in front of him and I let each and every one of his many family members squeeze and suffocate me with love until I can barely breathe.
The Hando house is not a house, it's an old factory. The first two floors of the original six-story building have been gutted and redesigned to accommodate the huge gatherings they have there. It's a common room, not a place where anyone actually lives, because they all have their own houses scattered around the compound.
When I'm ushered inside the familiar smell of home cooking grabs at my heart and makes my stomach twist in longing for all the weekends I spent here with these people as a teen. There are at least twenty little kids running around—kids who belong to Hand's older brothers and probably some younger brothers and sisters too. This family is crazy about kids.
The main room is really just one big open-plan living space filled with noise and activity and love. There are several tables lined up end to end so that when family dinner time comes around, everyone is connected by mismatched tablecloths, and place mats, and silverware,
"Sometimes I wish they had," I whisper into his chest.
I haven't seen him in a long time, not just the years Inanna stole from me either. My senior year at cadets was a flurry of a lot of things, one of which happened to be local freelance jobs supplied in quantity by Hand's father, Vincent, in exchange for money, weapons, armor, and a whole assortment of survival gear.
But that was also the year Gideon came home near death, I went insane and killed a bunch of mutant projects, Matthew stole my memories then tried to kill me on the sniper range, and I finally got my revenge.
It was never the same after that. And Hand never got to hear why.
"You've been on the news, Junco. Tonight, that rock-star chick, Cora? She said you commandeered her suborbital and held her hostage, all the while telling her how you planned on killing billions of people with your revenge."
I smile. "What a bitch."
Hand pulls his goggles down his face so they dangle over his chest and his dark brown eyes flash as he grins. "You just tell me what you need, Junco. I've got your back."
He's the same age as Gideon, but they've never met as far as I know. His black hair hangs all the way down his back, the same way it did when we were younger, and his skin is the perfect shade of golden brown when he gets a chance to stand in the sun.
"I'm surprised you recognized me, I don't exactly look like the old Junco, do I?" My leaky thoughts betray my insecurities with my new body, but Hand just shrugs.
"You look real good, if that's what you mean. And your hair is pretty fucking long, Juncs." He reaches out and lifts up a few strands. "I always thought you preferred it shorter."
"I do, but I've been kinda busy, haven't had time to chop it off. You wanna chop it off for me?"
He shakes his head. "Nah, I like it."
My face tingles and I turn away. "I need a bike. I gotta get back to Council 3, like yesterday. You got a bike I can take? I can pay—"
He waves his hand in front of me. "No, I'm not taking your money. I've got a bike. No big deal. But Council 3 is still off limits. They cleaned it up pretty well, there's even new growth in the worst areas now. But it's forbidden."
"I have a way to get past all that, don't worry. I have stuff there."
"It's probably gone, Juncs. Your dad—"
My exaggerated sigh interrupts him. "I know what he did was wrong, Hand. So please. I just need to get out there, I can't think about anything else right now. And my stuff will be there. It was designed to withstand more than a few nukes, believe me."
"Hey, Juncs?" He tilts my chin up until I look him in the eyes. "Your dad's crimes are not transferable here, OK? I said I have your back, and I mean it." I nod and he smiles and lightens things up. "Now get your little ass in here and say hello to everyone." He claps me on the back as I pass in front of him and I let each and every one of his many family members squeeze and suffocate me with love until I can barely breathe.
The Hando house is not a house, it's an old factory. The first two floors of the original six-story building have been gutted and redesigned to accommodate the huge gatherings they have there. It's a common room, not a place where anyone actually lives, because they all have their own houses scattered around the compound.
When I'm ushered inside the familiar smell of home cooking grabs at my heart and makes my stomach twist in longing for all the weekends I spent here with these people as a teen. There are at least twenty little kids running around—kids who belong to Hand's older brothers and probably some younger brothers and sisters too. This family is crazy about kids.
The main room is really just one big open-plan living space filled with noise and activity and love. There are several tables lined up end to end so that when family dinner time comes around, everyone is connected by mismatched tablecloths, and place mats, and silverware,
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