Stephenie Meyer - The Host

“I’ll bet he did,” Ian murmured.

“So what do you think, Wanda? We get to be roomies again!”

“But Jamie, where will Jared stay?”

“Wait-let me guess,” Ian interrupted. “I bet he said the room was big enough for three. Am I right?”

“Yeah. How did you know?”

“Lucky guess.”

“So that’s good, isn’t it, Wanda? It will be just like before we came here!”

It felt sort of like a razor sliding between my ribs when he said that-too clean and precise a pain to be compared to a blow or a break.

Jamie analyzed my tortured expression with alarm. “Oh. No, I mean but with you, too. It will be nice. The four of us, right?”

I tried to laugh through the pain; it didn’t hurt any worse than not laughing.

Ian squeezed my hand.

“The four of us,” I mumbled. “Nice.”

Jamie crawled up the mattress, worming his way around Ian, to put his arms around my neck.

“Sorry. Don’t be sad.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“You know I love you, too.”

So sharp, so piercing, the emotions of this planet. Jamie had never said those words to me before. My whole body suddenly felt a few degrees warmer.

So sharp, Melanie agreed, wincing at her own pain.

“Will you come back?” Jamie begged against my shoulder.

I couldn’t answer right away.

“What does Mel want?” he asked.

“She wants to live with you,” I whispered. I didn’t have to check to know that.

“And what do you want?”

“Do you want me to live with you?”

“You know I do, Wanda. Please.”

I hesitated.

“Please?”

“If that’s what you want, Jamie. Okay.”

“Woo hoo!” Jamie crowed in my ear. “Cool! I’m gonna go tell Jared! I’ll get you some food, too, okay?” He was already on his feet, bouncing the mattress so that I felt it in my ribs.

“Okay.”

“You want something, Ian?”

“Sure, kid. I want you to tell Jared he’s shameless.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind. Go get Wanda some lunch.”

“Sure. And I’ll ask Wes for his extra bed. Kyle can come back in here, and everything will be like it should be!”

“Perfect,” Ian said, and though I didn’t look at his face, I knew he was rolling his eyes.

“Perfect,” I whispered, and felt the razor’s edge again.

Perfect, I grumbled to myself. Just perfect.

Ian was coming to join me for lunch, a big smile glued into place on his face. Trying to cheer me up… again.

I think you’re overdoing the sarcasm lately, Melanie told me.

I’ll keep that in mind.

I hadn’t heard from her much in the past week. Neither of us was good company right now. It was better if we avoided social interaction, even with each other.

“Hey, Wanda,” Ian greeted me, hopping up onto the counter beside me. He had a bowl of tomato soup in one hand, still steaming. Mine was beside me, cooled and half full. I was toying with a piece of roll, ripping it into tiny pieces.

I didn’t answer him.

“Oh, come on.” He put his hand on my knee. Mel’s angry reaction was lethargic. She was too used to this kind of thing to really work up a good fit anymore. “They’ll be back today. Before sunset, without a doubt.”

“You said that three days ago, and two days ago, and again yesterday,” I reminded him.

“I have a good feeling about today. Don’t sulk-it’s so human,” he teased.

“I’m not sulking.” I wasn’t. I was so worried I could barely think straight. It didn’t leave me energy to do anything else.

“This isn’t the first raid Jamie’s gone on.”

“That makes me feel so much better.” Again with the sarcasm. Melanie was right-I really was overusing it.

“He’s got Jared and Geoffrey and Trudy with him. And Kyle’s here. ” Ian laughed. “So there’s no way they’ll get into any trouble.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.”

He turned his attention to his food and let me stew. Ian was nice that way-always trying to give me what I wanted, even when what I wanted was unclear to either of us. His insistent attempts to distract me from the present anxiety excepted, of course. I knew I didn’t want that. I wanted to worry; it was the only thing I could do.

It had been a month since I’d moved back into Jamie and Jared’s room. For three weeks of that time, the four of us had lived together. Jared slept on a mattress wedged above the head of the bed where Jamie and I slept.

I’d gotten used to it-the sleeping part, at least; I was having a hard time sleeping now in the empty room. I missed the sound of two other bodies breathing.

I hadn’t gotten used to waking up every morning with Jared there. It still took me a second too long to return his morning greeting. He was not at ease, either, but he was always polite. We were both very polite.

It was almost scripted at this point.

“Good morning, Wanda, how did you sleep?”

“Fine, thank you, and you?”

“Fine, thanks. And… Mel?”

“She’s good, too, thanks.”

Jamie’s constant state of euphoria and his happy chattering kept things from becoming too strained. He talked about-and to-Melanie often, until her name was no longer the source of stress it had once been when Jared was present. Every day, it got a little bit more comfortable, the pattern of my life here a little bit more pleasant.

We were… sort of happy. Both Melanie and I.

And then, a week ago, Jared had left for another short raid-mostly to replace broken tools-and taken Jamie with him.

“You tired?” Ian asked.

I realized I was rubbing at my eyes. “Not really.”

“Still not sleeping well?”

“It’s too quiet.”

“I could sleep with you-Oh, calm down, Melanie. You know what I meant.”

Ian always noticed when Melanie’s antagonism made me cringe.

“I thought they were going to be back today,” I challenged.

“You’re right. I guess there’s no need for rearranging.”

I sighed.

“Maybe you should take the afternoon off.”

“Don’t be silly,” I told him. “I’ve got plenty of energy for work.”

He grinned as though I’d said something that pleased him. Something he’d been hoping I would say.

“Good. I could use some help with a project.”

“What’s the project?”

“I’ll show you-you finished there?”

I nodded.

He took my hand as he led me out of the kitchen. Again, this was so common that Melanie barely protested.

“Why are we going this way?” The eastern field did not need attention. We’d been part of the group that had irrigated it this morning.

Ian didn’t answer. He was still grinning.

He led me down the eastern tunnel, past the field and into the corridor that led to only one place. As soon as we were in the tunnel, I could hear voices echoing and a sporadic thud, thud that it took me a moment to place. The stale, bitter sulfur odor helped link the sound to the memory.

“Ian, I’m not in the mood.”

“You said you had plenty of energy.”

“To work. Not to play soccer.”

“But Lily and Wes will be really disappointed. I promised them a game of two-on-two. They worked so hard this morning to free up the afternoon…”

“Don’t try to make me feel guilty,” I said as we rounded the last curve. I could see the blue light of several lamps, shadows flitting in front of them.

“Isn’t it working?” he teased. “C’mon, Wanda. It will be good for you.”

He pulled me into the low-ceilinged game room, where Lily and Wes were passing the ball back and forth across the length of the field.