"I wear a hat, dumbass. And it's not like you ever paid attention to anyone but Dav, anyway. The way you stared at him when you thought nobody was looking…"
I groan and cover my rising blush with my hand. "Don't."
"You know he added the chapter about PDAs to the book just for you?" She laughs. "He noticed that you're handsy."
"What book?"
It takes Onatah a second to realize I have no idea what she's talking about. "Fuck's sake. He had a book made for Charlie, with all the rules and stuff. He didn’t give it to you?"
"That sounds horrific," I snort. "'Here's a textbook listing everything you're allowed to do for the rest of your life. Study up!' No thanks."
Onatah wipes at her face. "So not exactly like Charlie. She didn't resent having staff, like you seem to. Living the high life, she liked that. But she wanted something meaningful. Useful."
"But Favorites aren't useful," I say softly, as Hadi scowls. "They're ornamental."
"Becoming a Favorite is a reward for a victory well-earned, or a talent well-honed, or a blood-line well established. You have to have been born right, or you distinguished yourself," Onatah agrees.
(I had done none of those things.)
"At least in the British court?" Hadi asks, perceptive as always.
Onatah smirks.
"I don't want to rest." Despite my full-ass post-graduation year of spinning my wheels, I'm too hungry to rest. Iwantto do stuff. I just don't know what that looks like yet.
"Neither did Charlie. She gave a shit about Dav's hoard. Charlie was the one who set up the communal breakfast, so no one went into the field or to our offices hungry. She established charities. She was on local committees for schools, and veteran housing. She was determined to make a difference."
"She sounds amazing." I take another petulant sip of my coffeeish whiskey.
"She was," Onatah agrees.
I try not to take it personally. Just because Dav's first Favorite was incredible doesn't mean that he's traded down. Even though it feels like it.
Does Dav only love me because I'm the male version of Charlie?I could spin myself in circles second guessing him, but Dr. Chen would call that fawning behavior, and put a stop to it.
Let what he shows you be what you believe, she'd say. Don't look for hidden meanings or subtext or tricks. People will tell you who they are—pay attention and accept it for what it is unless they prove otherwise.
Dav loves me.
Dav lovesme.
Loves me so much he…I press the heel of my hand against the hickey sharply. The pain brings me back into my body, into the present.
"So. How?" I don't need to elaborate.
Onatah knows what I mean.
"Dav and I, our lives, our cultures, our way of managing our hoards is… Charlie wanted to learn everything about how I do it, see what they could improve. They'd visit a lot. Sunday picnics, on this outcropping, above a river." Onatah's shoulders roll inwards in misery. I know this next part, but it doesn't make it any easier to hear. "Dav was… so young, and so cavalier, and…" She gestures helplessly, rumbling to clear away the wet thickness in her words. "He went down. Charlie reached out too far for him and… Dav caught himself. And I caught her."
Onatah looks at me, meaningfully. Hadi sucks in a hissing breath of horror, understanding right away what it means.
"Charlie swung back against the rock and, and there was so much blood—" Onatah's voice crackles. "I couldn't get past him. He was crouched over her, snarling, and she was bleeding and… he thought he was protecting her, you see?"
"Oh my god," Pedra whispers. She reaches over, offers Onatah the comfort I can't, lays a hand on her knee. Onatah clutches it. "That must have been awful."
Onatah takes a few, sucking breaths. "He was out of his fucking head. By the time Nîcimos came back with help—" she bites off the confession with a hard grunt, teeth clenched. "It was no one's fault. But they blame Dav. His Favorite died in theterritory of a 'heathen savage'." A prickle of foreboding crawls up my spine. "Because I touched her. And he let me."
"But you couldn't let her fall!" Hadi protests.