answering smile is a little coquettish and a lot captivating. “Do what?”
“You know what,” I return. “This place is closed on Mondays. Jesse and I used to get so mad when we had a Monday off school because we had to find some other kind of fun. Those alternatives rarely beat the observatory.”
“Let’s just say I know a guy who knows a guy,” she answers with a coy smile. She reaches across the table and threads her fingers through mine. “So you and Jesse came here a lot?”
“You could say that. Free admission, air-conditioning, and kick-ass displays about space. To a couple of downtown kids who already knew more about the subject than our teachers, with moms who couldn’t afford to skip work, there were few things better.”
“That truly does sound like fun on crack.”
Her lighthearted jest gets her an answering hand squeeze.
“Even getting here was a blast. I’d load Jesse and his chair onto the number two bus, and then we’d transfer onto the Observatory Dash.” The memories have me smiling and shaking my head. “Some of the characters on that bus… I mean, damn…you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“I dare you to say that after an hour at one of my mother’s parties.”
“Is it that bad?” My tender tone is a response to the dark desolation in hers. “Life as a Valari?” I clarify. “I mean, the glamour has to be overstated a little, which is where you get the haters. But behind that huge exterior, there’s got to be the truth, right? The reality?”
Kara disconnects our grasp and rests back in her chair. Her eyes are as luminous as the moon rising against the dusky sky just above the observatory’s dome.
“Sorry. I’m prying.” I run a frustrated hand through my hair, worried I’m already screwing up an otherwise perfect night. “You probably get this all the time. People trying to get information out of you. Shit—”
“That’s not it.” Her expression is taut but sincere. “Honestly, it’s just that I don’t think I’ve ever been asked about my life by someone who might actually…care.”
I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table. “I do care.” Probably too damn much. “If you want to talk about anything, I’m here. Whatever it is…”
She laughs weakly. “All the spectacle and the glory of my fabulous life, eh?”
“I said whatever it is.” I stress my sincerity by reaching for her again, stretching my fingertips out and lightly grazing her knuckles. I slide my touch across the top of her wrist. And then around it.
She sighs heavily. “My family is…complicated.”
“Most are.”
“It probably seems like every detail of our life is splashed across the media. Talk about false realities. Very little is as it seems. Beyond all that, we’re a study in contradictions. We’re really private, but we’re not. We’re close, but…we’re not.”
I frown. “What about Kell? You seem close with her.”
She nods. “I am. I mean, more than anyone else, that’s for sure.”
“Jesse has her in one of his classes.” I smirk, remembering the way he spoke of her. “He was surprised that she had more depth than her social media presence might suggest.”
She chuckles. “She does. It’s…” She circles her hand through the air like she can summon the truth of the matter that way. “Everything about the Valaris eventually funnels down to image. Most of it, anyway.”
“I can’t begin to imagine a life in the public eye like that.” When she doesn’t answer, I press on, sensing she wants to share more, even if the subject matter is stressing her out. “You seem to be the sole Valari who doesn’t want the whole world to know it.”
“You’re not wrong.” She averts her stare and forces a tight smile. “So what made you want to become a literature professor?”
Since my gaze hasn’t left her face, I’m well aware that she’s deliberately trying to sidetrack me. But she also probably thinks she’s shared more with me than she should have. While she still keeps a lot of herself tucked away from me, I’m able to detect her nervousness when she bites her lip. I’m barely more than a stranger—a stranger who could sell her confessions for the right price.
I’m determined to prove I’m not. If it takes baring more of myself to her as collateral, I can work with that.
“Becoming Professor Maximus wasn’t a childhood dream or anything,” I answer. “I’m not complaining, though. I enjoy the work.”
“So you sort of fell into it? That kind of thing?” She blinks and