The Weight of the Stars - K. Ancrum Page 0,3

did consistently better in psych simulations for long-term travel in tight confines.”

“Yikes,” Blake said.

“All the candidates were chosen specifically to avoid family attachments,” Ryann continued. “But then a journalist uncovered that one of the girls got pregnant and had the kid right before she left. Apparently SCOUT suppressed information about that and waited to deliver the newborn to the family until the candidate left on the mission. Then they covered up their ethical fuckup to avoid bad press, at the expense of a whole family, but news about it wound up getting out anyway. The scandal was so dramatic that a bunch of regulations were passed immediately afterward to stop anything like it from happening again.”

“Yiiiiikeessssssss,” Blake said, wincing even harder.

“Why isn’t any of this more common knowledge?” Shannon asked curiously.

“It happened when we were all maybe one or two years old. It was common knowledge and extremely scandalous, but it was a long time ago,” Ryann explained. “The only reason I know so much about it is—”

“Because you’re a turbo-nerd in love with space-trash. Or at least you used to be,” Tomas interrupted. He was texting and barely paying attention.

“Wow.” Ahmed turned to scowl at Tomas. “What is wrong with you today?”

“Anyway,” Ryann said louder. “The only reason I know about this is because my mom used to be really mad about it and talked about it with her coworkers a lot.”

“So what does any of this have to do with anything?” Blake asked.

“She’s the kid,” Ryann said.

Tomas looked up from his phone. “What?”

“The new girl is that kid,” Ahmed said. “The one whose teen mom went to die in space, Tomas.” He slapped Tomas’s phone out of his hands and onto the grass. “Did you even listen to any of that? Her name is Alexandria.”

Shannon put her chin in her hands contemplatively. “Did she tell you all this herself?”

“No. I … haven’t spoken to her directly yet. But for obvious reasons, Mrs. Marsh wants me to look after her,” Ryann said. She tapped her fingers against the ground anxiously, then turned to Tomas. “Alexandria seems really standoffish in a way that reminded me of you when I first met you, so she probably needs a tougher approach rather than anything straightforward.”

“Great,” Tomas griped. “More strays.”

“You say that like Ryann didn’t come to find you, too,” Blake said. He picked up Tomas’s phone and rubbed it clean with his shirt.

2 HOURS LATER

Ryann walked back to school from the hill to pick up James. He’d left earlier to go to woodshop, one of the after-school electives. James seemed happy to see her and showed her the chair he was building, which was nice. But she kept thinking about the girl from this morning and how rude she was. It was beginning to piss her off all over again.

As they walked over to her bike, James bumped Ryann with his shoulder and raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“It’s nothing.” Ryann replied.

James scowled and gripped her arm gently, but Ryann shrugged him off and got on her bike.

“Quit it. I mean it,” she snapped, revving the engine a bit to drive her point.

But it didn’t help. James always knew when she was feeling any type of way.

He climbed onto the bike behind her and put the point of his chin right in her spine. Ryann sucked her teeth in sharp annoyance, but took off anyway.

After a while, James sighed in resignation and laid his head flat against her back. Ryann felt bad for snapping at him.

“I have to pick up some groceries, Birdie,” she said gently, using his nickname from when they were little. “Can you carry them?”

He nodded into her jacket. She swerved past the exit home and headed to the store.

30 MINUTES

Ryann didn’t like shopping in this town, but she didn’t have many other options. Everyone always stared at her and James like they shouldn’t be in there. But it had everything they needed, and the pharmacist was nice enough to remember James’s name. Even though the prices were a bit higher than in the town they were from, the quality was always better so it was worth it.

Ryann pushed the cart down the cereal aisle and handed a box of Cheerios to James, who had wedged himself in the part of the cart where food usually goes.

“We getting eggs this week?”

James shook his head.

“Do you even like eggs anymore?” Ryann asked.

James scowled and pointed to the next aisle over. Ryann smiled fondly.

“Fine. No eggs this week. But you need prot—”

“We have