“I’m guessing your favorite color is green,” DJ added.
“Yeah,” I said. “But it’s more than a color. It’s the smell of life waking up and stretching its limbs, it’s the feeling of turning a corner, a light at the end of the tunnel that’s suddenly close enough to touch.”
“Do you actually understand the concept of colors, Noa?” DJ was laughing when he said it.
“I’ll show you colors.” My book forgotten, I attacked DJ with a flurry of tickles that had him squealing for me to stop. Tears ran down his cheeks, and snot dribbled out of his nose. It wasn’t pretty, but I refused to relent. And then DJ went on the offensive, and we were rolling in the grass, each one trying to gain the upper hand. DJ had the advantage of size and strength, but I was a slippery eel with fast hands.
DJ rolled on top of me and was leaning over me. His eyes were a blue break in the clouds, his cheeks the warm promise of sunrise.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” I whispered back.
DJ plucked grass from my hair and used it to tickle my nose. “You know what my favorite color is?”
I shook my head, unable to speak.
“You.”
“And I’m the one who doesn’t understand the concept of color?” I tried to make a joke, but my voice was strained.
“You’re my favorite color, Noa. And my favorite sound. You’re my favorite part of the day, my favorite flavor, and my favorite program.” DJ leaned in closer.
“DJ, I—”
Immediately, DJ reversed course. The reassuring weight of him on top of my chest lessened as he rolled off me. I hadn’t meant for him to go. I hadn’t meant to push him away. I wished I could explain it to him. I was trapped in that liminal place where everything I did with DJ was both a painful reminder of the past I was trying to move beyond and a promise of the future I could have if I were only bold enough to accept that I deserved it.
I wanted to tell DJ that the last couple of weeks had been my favorite everything, and that I had him to thank for it. That I was still scared of taking the next step, whatever that might be, but weren’t we all afraid of moving forward? Weren’t we on the roller coaster, poised at the apex of the drop together? I might not have been holding my hands in the air—I might have been white-knuckling the safety bar and trying not to vomit—but I was still on the ride, ready for the plunge.
I wanted to pull DJ back toward me, but I hesitated and he noticed.
DJ stood and brushed the grass off his pants. He held out his hand to help me up. “Come on. We were supposed to meet Jenny fifteen minutes ago.”
“Can’t we skip it?”
“Probably better if we don’t,” he said. “I’d spend every second with you if I could, but we can’t exclude her. It’s not fair.”
“I guess you’re right.” I squeezed his hand, trying to use the contact to tell him that I didn’t want to go. That I didn’t want this moment to end. To tell him what I had failed to say with words.
I didn’t know what was happening between me and DJ, but I didn’t want to screw it up, and I was terrified I was going to.
TWO
JENNY WAS ARGUING WITH JENNY Perez when DJ and I strolled into the galley.
“But why are the cameras malfunctioning?” Jenny asked, drawing out the “why” like she was talking to a child. “You freely admit that you’re recording everything that happens on Qriosity, which I still contend is deeply creepy, yet you never have recordings of the times or locations that I need.”
I had never seen the hologram Jenny Perez look annoyed before, but she was currently doing a pretty fair imitation. “Unfortunately, I don’t have an answer for you. But you’re a superb junior detective, so I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
“I’m not a junior—”
DJ cleared his throat, causing both Jennys to look our way.
“Finally,” Jenny said. “You’re late.”
“We lost track of time,” I said.
Jenny Perez’s smile returned. “You seem to have organic matter in your hair.”
Jenny busted out laughing. DJ quickly said, “It’s grass.”
I rolled my eyes and headed to the kitchen. “Leave it to the hologram to put it in the most ambiguously suggestive way.” While Jenny and the hologram continued to argue, I looked around for something to snack on. Wrestling with DJ had made me hungry. “Hey,” I called. “Did one of you eat the last of the lemon cake I made yesterday?”
“I’m a hologram,” Jenny Perez said. “I lack the tangibility to consume actual food.”
“No one asked you.”
DJ called, “I had a slice last night, but there was still plenty left.”
“It wasn’t me,” Jenny said. “And that’s one of the things I was trying to get this useless hologram to show me.”
Disappointed, I wandered back to the table. “Someone had to have eaten it.”
“Exactly.” Jenny motioned for us to sit. “I think there’s another stowaway hiding on Qriosity.”
“That’s what this is about?” I asked. “We’ve been over this ship multiple times—”
Jenny raised her eyebrow sharply. “Talk less, listen more.”
“My junior detective has collected some compelling evidence.”
“I don’t need your help,” Jenny said to the hologram.
I was daydreaming about returning to the garden to roll around in organic matter with the boy I had conflicted feelings about, when he said, “Why don’t you tell us what you’ve got.”
Jenny closed her eyes, inhaled, held the breath, and then exhaled and opened her eyes again. It was very dramatic. “It started with the blood on my jacket. The one I was wearing the day this nightmare adventure began. I wasn’t injured, so I was fairly certain the blood wasn’t mine, but I suspected that it might belong to whoever had locked me in the toilet.” Jenny looked from me to DJ knowingly.
“Wait? You thought it belonged to one of us?” I said.
“Initially,” Jenny said. “But I gathered DNA from each of you and asked the computer—”
“That’s me!” Jenny Perez said.
“—to compare the samples.”
DJ grimaced. “DNA samples?”
“Hair,” Jenny said. “You both shed like dogs.”
I wanted to protest, but Jenny wasn’t wrong. My mom had complained about it too. “You said ‘initially,’ ” I said. “Does that mean we weren’t a match?”
Jenny nodded. “Correct.”
“Were you able to test Kayla’s DNA?” DJ asked.
“Not a match either.” Jenny waved her hands around, flustered by our questions. “Which means someone else put me in the toilet.”
Jenny had told me she was investigating, but I’d assumed it would be like the time I decided I was going to learn French. I downloaded a language program, signed up for a free online class, spent a couple of hours Googling pictures of handsome French boys, baked a dozen croissants, and then forgot about it and moved on.