Zoraida Cordova - A Crash of Fate

Izzy inhaled deeply, then relented. “I saw someone I recognized.”

“Bad breakup? Wait, no. A bookie. Your old professor who gave you demerits. Don’t tell me, I’m great at this game.”

None of it was funny, and yet she couldn’t help laughing.

“I can keep going.”

“You can stop because you already guessed it.”

His brown eyes searched her face. “Professor?”

“Bad breakup. Pretty much the worst one of my life.” Not that she had much experience in that department. She’d had a boyfriend in her Galactic Politics course when she’d been at the academy, before she’d dropped out. But that had ended when she’d met his parents, who didn’t care for an orphan girl with no social standing or any aspirations of become a politician’s wife.

“Huh,” Jules said. He crossed and uncrossed his arms, avoiding direct eye contact. It was endearing watching him try to keep his calm. It was the most reserved and quiet he’d been all morning, which meant that he was teeming with questions. “I guess I really am great at this game.”

“It caught me off guard.”

His knee bounced in place as he scanned the hangar’s late breakfast crowd. “Is he trying to win you back?”

“He’s definitely not here to win me back.”

“Then he’s an idiot.” He finally smiled again.

If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was jealous. She wanted to reach out to him just then but kept her hands firmly on her own knees.

“I’m curious, Izzy,” he said. “Why else would you both have ended up in the same outpost if he wasn’t looking for you?”

“He’s with my old crew. I wasn’t privy to the job they’re working, though.”

“Wait,” he said. “Is that why you came here? Running away?”

“No! I’m doing exactly what I came here to do. Deliver a package, get paid, and get out.”

There was that hurt look again. She regretted it the instant she said it, but it was too late to take back. She cut her gaze to a small boy at the other end of the hangar chasing a feathered creature and shouting, “Here, tip-yip!” At least Cookie’s food was fresh, she thought, before turning back to Jules. As much as she hated to be the cause of that wounded look that had flashed across his face, she didn’t want to stick around and run into Ana Tolla’s crew again. Then she had a thought….No, he’d never do it. Would he?

“Come with me,” she said.

It was worth it to see his lips part from utter surprise. “What?”

“You said you wanted to leave. I can take you anywhere,” she said, her skin growing hot as she spoke. She quickly remembered that her ship had only one cabin, because the other was full of junk to keep the cargo bay clear. Tumble. Farm boy. She needed to stop those thoughts. How had they gone from talking about their childhood to this?

“I can’t,” he said.

Her relief rivaled her disillusionment. Of course, she didn’t think he would actually do it. She thought of the little boy he’d been, playing with rocks and calling them ships. The boy who never left. There was something keeping Jules on Batuu, and she wished to know what. Would he tell her?

“It was just a silly thought. Forget I said it.” She gulped the rest of her drink.

“It’s forgotten. Come. I’ll walk you back.”

They paid and bid Cookie good-bye. As they stepped into the sunny morning, she shielded her eyes with her palm. Jules pulled the white-and-blue scarf from his neck and offered it to her. It felt like a peace offering, and she draped it over her head, then threw one end over her shoulder.

The scarf itself had a sweet scent, like sharp grass and nectar and something uniquely Jules. She had never given a second thought to what anyone smelled like, except “pleasant” or “unbearable.” She couldn’t even think of what Damar smelled like. The chemicals of his hair product, perhaps. Why was Jules different?

You know why, stupid , she thought as they walked the uneven path back to the filling station.

Jules had turned down her offer. The crew that had abandoned her not a full day before was too close for her to relax. Part of her wanted to crawl into her quarters on the Meridian and hide. But why should she be the one to hide? She hadn’t done anything except trust the wrong person. She was stronger than this. She had to be.

“You know, I could send someone to take care of him,” Jules said. “Just say the word. Oga’s is always filled with guns for hire, or we could take a stroll through Smuggler’s Alley.”

She barked a laugh. “I know we haven’t seen each other in a long time, but I highly doubt that you’re capable of having someone murdered.”

He grinned and somehow managed to look innocent despite the subject matter. “I never said anything about murder. I’m saying one of Bina’s shipments of juniper bugs could wind up in his bed. They’re not carnivorous, but they itch like crazy.”

She shook her head but brushed her shoulder against his. “That’s what I get for not listening to my mother.”

“What did your mother say?” Jules asked.

She could feel the heat of his stare, but she wasn’t ready to look into his eyes just yet. Izzy ran her fingers along the soft edge of the scarf. “She told me the only person you can trust is yourself.”

He frowned. “That’s a lonely way to live, Izzy.”

“What would you know about it?”

“I know that one scoundrel isn’t worth rejecting the trust of the entire galaxy. Trust is a skill, and if you only have it in yourself then you aren’t even trying.”

“You don’t know what happened,” she snapped.

“You could tell me,” Jules said softly, moving a wooden ornament that hung from a canopy so he wouldn’t hit his head. Why couldn’t he snap back at her? Why did she think the answer to everything was yelling?

She was turned around again. Every pathway in Black Spire Outpost seemed to bleed into the next, and she couldn’t quite get her bearings. Every petrified tree looked like the last. She was thankful that Jules was by her side, or she’d end up in another dead end facing down a trooper. You trust Jules , she tried to reason with herself. But her mother had taught her a terrible thing—how to be stubborn.

“So, if you got food poisoning from Cookie’s, you would just go back for seconds because you trusted it wouldn’t happen again?”

He gasped, feigning a wound. “You take that back.”

“See?” She began turning toward an archway.

“I see no such thing, Izzy Garsea.” He tugged on her sleeve and sent her in the right direction, down an alley that smelled of dye and soap. “Those two situations have nothing to do with each other. One is food and the other is love, though I would argue that they are one and the same.”

“You’re just avoiding saying that I’m right.”

“Wrong,” Jules said, mussing his soft brown curls with frustration. “If I got food poisoning at Cookie’s—may the spires forbid it—I wouldn’t starve myself because I was afraid of getting sick again. Everyone’s got to eat.”

Izzy wanted to deny that she had ever loved Damar. But wasn’t that why she was so furious at his abandonment? She found that the heaviness in her chest had everything to do with what she wasn’t saying.

So, she told Jules about the day before and how Damar had left her in the middle of a brawl. She left out the part about it being her birthday because it made her feel childish.

He was silent, his hands balled into fists. His strong jaw was set hard, the muscles there tense.

I’ve done it , she thought as she watched his anger spark. I’ve upset Jules Rakab .

“My original offer still stands,” he finally said.