of other chatter in the room. “I never said I was that kind of stupid. I’m the other kind of stupid. You know, likable stupid.”
Arturo rolled his eyes, but the girl next to him leaned forward. “Nedd,” she said, “stupid is stupid.”
“No it’s not. You’re talking to an expert. I—”
“Guys,” FM interrupted, presenting me with hands raised to the side, “look who I found slinking around the base. She was moping about how she can’t shoot anything for a few days.”
Nedd thumbed toward FM. “See, she’s the other kind of stupid.”
FM smacked him on the back of the head, and he grinned. Then he stood and grabbed me in a suffocating bear hug. “Good to see you, Spin. Order something to eat. Arturo’s paying.”
“I am?”
“You’re rich.”
“So are you.”
“I’m the other kind of rich. The poor kind.”
“Oh, for the Saint’s sake,” Arturo said.
“Don’t use the Saint’s name in vain,” Kimmalyn said.
“You do all the time!”
“I’m religious. You’re not. So it’s okay for me.”
Nedd grinned, using his foot to hook a chair from the next table over, then pulling it to us. He waved for me to sit down.
I did so, hesitant. I was still distracted by the recording in my jumpsuit pocket. At the same time, seeing Nedd and Kimmalyn made me feel warm. This was something I needed.
So I tried to forget about the recording for now.
“Spin, this is Bryn,” Arturo said, pointing to the girl sitting close—very close—to him. “A friend from before flight school.”
“I honestly don’t know how you all suffer him,” she said. “He pretended to know everything before he became a pilot. He must be impossible now.”
He mock-punched her lightly on the shoulder, smiling. Yes, it was clear that this was an established relationship. How had I never known that Arturo was attached?
I would know. I thought, if I ever got to spend any time outside of class with the rest of them . . .
A few seconds later, FM set something purple and bubbling in front of me, along with a basket of fried algae strips. She settled into her own seat and tossed a pouch to Kimmalyn. “Found your necklace,” she said. “Under your bed.”
“Thank you, dear,” Kimmalyn said, opening it and checking inside. “I did pitch something of a fit when I left, didn’t I?”
“Are you guys coming back to the DDF?” I asked. “Are we going to talk to Cobb? They need pilots. Maybe we could get them to take you back.”
Nedd and Kimmalyn shared a look, then Nedd took a long drink. “No,” he said. “Cobb said most of the class would wash out. So they’re expecting this, right? They’re not going to take us. And I’m not sure I could do that to my mother, after . . .”
Silence. Conversation at the table died.
“I might not be coming back, but at least I made cadet,” Kimmalyn said, perking up. “My parents are proud, and the gunners in Bountiful are full of chatter about me.”
“But . . . I mean . . . flying . . .,” I said, although I knew I should leave well enough alone.
“We aren’t like you, Spin,” Nedd said. “Flying was great. I’d go back up in a heartbeat, but something about the DDF . . . the culture, the throwing cadets into battle, the desperation . . .”
FM gave him two thumbs up. Kimmalyn just looked down at her lap. She was probably thinking what I was. The DDF had a reason to be desperate. When cadets flew, it wasn’t only for practice—or even because the DDF was callous with lives. It was because we needed more pilots in the air, however inexperienced.
Growing up in Igneous, I’d known that the fight against the Krell was a valiant, dangerous endeavor. But before coming to Alta, I’d never realized quite how close to the edge we were.
I kept my mouth shut though, because I didn’t want to depress everyone. The conversation turned to some big game yesterday—Hurl’s old team had won. Nedd raised his glass, and the others did as well, so I joined in. I took a sip of my purple drink and almost spat it out. It was so sweet.
I covered it up by trying one of the fries. My mouth exploded with flavor, and I froze, eyes wide. I practically melted into a puddle. I’d had fried algae before, but it had been nowhere near as good as this. What were those spices?
“Spin?” Arturo asked. “You look like someone just stepped on your toe.”
I