The Lofties (The Echelon Book 2) by Ramona Finn (no david read aloud .txt) 📕

our bag, and we hurried home. I sat at the kitchen table while Lock unpacked our haul.

“Are we going to eat all that?”

“You bet we are.” Lock got out a chopping board and set to work on the potatoes. “Trick is, you don’t peel them. Lot of folks do, but you’ll peel off half the flavor.” He set some water to boil and tossed in a pinch of salt. I stared at him, flummoxed.

“How is it you can cook?”

“What kind of man can’t cook?” He pushed his potatoes to the side and started on his carrots. “Now these, you do peel. Everyone knows that.”

“I didn’t think Decemites cooked,” I said. “Ona never did. It was always me or Dad, sometimes Mom, if she got hungry.”

“My mom taught me,” said Lock. “I pretty much took over once she got sick. It’ll be back to Dad now, I guess. But he peels his potatoes.”

I sat back and watched Lock fix breakfast. He mashed the potatoes with a fork so they’d stay lumpy, chopped the carrots fine so they’d soak in the seasonings. He measured his soy carefully with a tablespoon and grated in ginger till the kitchen smelled warm. By the time he was done, my mouth was watering.

“Dig in,” said Lock, and he set my plate in front of me. I took a bite and shivered, then I moaned without meaning to.

“Creepy,” said Lock. I kicked him under the table.

“I mean, it’s just a pile of brown mush, but I’ve missed that taste.”

“Me too.” Lock tried his own breakfast and smiled. “Mm. Just like down below.”

For a while, we ate in silence. I closed my eyes, and the steamy kitchen felt like home. I half-expected Dad to barge in and eat our leftovers, or Mom to nag us about our mess.

“It doesn’t have to be all bad,” said Lock. “Living up here, I mean. I know it’s been hard on you, especially with...” He waved his fork at the window, at some nebulous point beyond. “You’re still worried about your friends.”

I swallowed thickly, nearly choking on my potatoes. “Lazrad wants them dead.”

“You don’t know that for sure. And even if she does, maybe you can be their champion on the inside. Get folks to trust you, then—”

“Who’d ever trust me?” I dropped my fork on my plate. “Who would care? They just play up here, orange games and horsey rides and sunshine all day long. Who’d ever trade that for... for—what would we even do?”

“I don’t know,” said Lock. “But we’re here now. Shouldn’t we at least try and make the best of it?”

I sagged where I sat, all the fight draining out of me. “How are you feeling?” I asked.

“What?”

“Since your update, that first day. Do you feel any different? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Lock grinned. “Don’t I look good? You didn’t mention my haircut.”

“You look great,” I said. It came out flat and toneless. I couldn’t even find it in me to mock his new haircut, which looked exactly like his old one, shaggy dog chic. Lock got me—he did. I could laugh with him, goof around, then he’d do something like this, and I’d see my pain in his eyes. He understood me so well—better than Ona, even—but when it came to our situation, he didn’t want to know. I needed him to believe me, to fight for his own life.

“Try not to worry so much.” Lock took his plate to the sink and turned on the water. I thought of Ben—was he safe? Did he have food on his plate, family to comfort him? It was killing me, not knowing. I’d come here to fight for all of us, for Ben and his people, for Lock and Ona. For Mom and Dad, even—for better lives for us all. So far, I’d done nothing, learned nothing. I was sinking, I realized, losing myself in my phone and the city and a thousand tiny distractions. I wasn’t worrying enough.

“Let me help,” I said. I got up and grabbed the mixing bowl and set about scrubbing it. Lock nodded his thanks, and we worked in companionable silence, elbows jostling together. He was a friend, and a good one. At least I had that.

“I’ll do better,” I told him. “Starting today.”

Chapter Eleven

We were all in the yard when Elli showed up, Lock drying out after a swim, Ona messing around on her phone. I was trying to draw them both, fingers smudged with graphite.

“Well, don’t you three look comfy?” Elli clapped her hands. “I’ve come to take you to lunch. There’s this new underwater place—you can watch fish swim by, and then you can eat them.”

“I just ate,” I said. In truth, the whole concept struck me as ghoulish.

“I’ll come,” said Ona. “Just give me a sec.”

I glowered at her. “Still playing that game?”

“No. I’m peeping my outfit.”

“You’re what?”

“Peeping my dress.” She waggled her phone at me. She’d snapped her own picture, skirts flared artfully around her. “Posting it on Peepr so everyone can see.”

I cocked my head, flummoxed. “You’re already wearing it. Everyone can see.”

“No, everyone everyone. Like, the whole city.” She slapped her phone to her wrist and turned to Lock. “Say you’ll come to lunch.”

“Sure. I could eat.” Lock stood up and flexed, biceps glistening in the sun. “Wanna peep me as well?”

Ona made a face. “Your shorts are disgusting. Go get changed.”

“Guess I’ll go peep myself.” Lock flashed her a bright smile and loped off to get changed. Elli sat next to me, leaning in to inspect my sketch. I covered it, self-conscious. It wasn’t good.

“You sure you won’t join us? I hear their desserts are to die for.”

“I’m not really a dessert person.” I leaned back in my chair, yawning theatrically. “Besides, I’m kinda tired. All this sun makes me sleepy.”

“Well, don’t forget your sunscreen, if you’re going to sleep out here.” She patted me on the shoulder and got up to follow Ona. I kept my eyes closed and waited for them to leave.