I smiled back, relief feeling warm as sunshine. “It wasn’t personal. I just wanted to show Longshot what I could do.”

“Tegan says you’ve killed a million Muties,” Merry put in.

“I doubt that,” I mumbled, blushing.

“But you have fought them,” Hannah pressed.

I nodded. “It was my job.”

Frank’s sister shivered, rubbing her hands along her bare arms. “I can’t believe you crossed the wilderness by yourself.”

“There were four of us,” I pointed out.

“That’s right,” Hannah said. “Tegan told us how terrifying it was. I don’t think I would have survived.”

Nadia, a thin, quiet girl who reminded me of Thimble with the intensity of her expression, murmured, “Did you really live in a hole?”

“Not exactly. It was more of a series of tunnels.”

A couple girls laughed, thinking I was joking, but I suspected this wasn’t how the party should go. I was supposed to be making friends, not reminding them how different I was. But before I could change the subject, Justine came up, unhappiness percolating in her eyes. The blue fire there said she blamed me for the fact that everyone wasn’t clustered around her.

“What are we talking about?” she asked with false cheer.

“How dangerous it was for Tegan and Deuce getting to Salvation,” Merry supplied, not seeing the danger.

“Oh,” Justine breathed. “Yes, I expect normal girls wouldn’t have stood a chance out there. And it wasn’t prudent traveling with boys like they did, either.” Her superior manner rubbed me the wrong way, but it was her party, and I was her guest. I had manners enough to know I shouldn’t whip her arm behind her back and grind her face in the dirt.

Even though I kind of wanted to.

“Sometimes we don’t get a choice,” I murmured. “We do what we have to.”

Hannah nodded. “I think so every time I do my chores.”

From there, the girls then started talking about what kind of party they wanted for their birthdays, relieving me of the necessity of paying attention. As long as I nodded and smiled and looked interested, that was all they seemed to require from me. We ate a little, played some silly games, and then had cake, after which point Justine opened all of her presents—and there were a pile, bigger than anything I’d ever seen. And most of the gifts were brand-new, not scrounged. There were ribbons and hairbrushes, hand-carved combs, shiny bottles, a pretty new blouse with a curly collar, and a few things that I couldn’t even name. Such plenty gave me a little pang. Down below, I’d seldom owned anything that hadn’t belonged to someone else first, just my knives and club.

I wondered if Justine knew how lucky she was to have such good friends, and to have a family who would go to such trouble for her. Even here, I was on the outside, looking in, and trying to make sense of customs that seemed strange to me. This, I realized, watching her disinterest as she pushed small parcels aside to get to bigger ones. This is what Edmund was talking about when he said the people had too many blessings. The thought unnerved me because, from here, it was only half a step to people blaming Justine for the Freak attack that afternoon. Whatever reason the monsters had for hating humanity, I was sure it had nothing to do with a girl’s party, or how many presents she received.

But others might not see that.

Sleepover

Walking home with Tegan after the party, I listened to her chatter with half an ear. It wasn’t until she tapped me on the shoulder that I realized she’d asked me a question. “So did you like everyone? Merry said she’s going to ask your foster mom if you can spend the night sometime this summer.”

“They were nice,” I said, wondering why I’d want to sleep at Merry’s house when I had a bed of my own.

“Nicer than you expected?”

I nodded.

She bounced a little as we walked. “I just knew it would work out if you put in some effort and stopped skulking around with Stalker.”

“He’s not as bad as you think,” I said quietly. “And he’s completely alone.”

“I never understood why you spent a minute with him when you had Fade staring at you all the time.”

I stopped, incredulous. “For the last two months, he hardly said a word to me. He was always with you.”

“Not with me. You didn’t think—”

“I don’t anymore.”

“Deuce,” she said seriously, moving again. “I may never get close to a boy. I’m not saying that to make you feel sorry for me. I’m happier than I’ve been since my mom died. I like the Tuttles and I feel safe with them. But Fade and me?” She shook her head. “Even if he felt that way about me, I couldn’t. I need time to heal … and to accept that not all boys are like the ones in the gangs.”

“They do seem more civilized,” I offered, as we neared my house.

She nodded. “Here, they bring posies from their mother’s gardens to girls they like. They ask your father’s permission to walk out with you.”

I hadn’t known that. I wondered if Fade did … and what it meant, exactly. “Has anybody talked to Doc Tuttle about you?”

Tegan shook her head. “I haven’t given anyone the necessary encouragement. Anyway,” she continued, “it was always you. Fade talks about you with me sometimes, you know?”

A burst of warmth flared in the pit of my stomach. “I had no idea. What … what does he say?”

“How you ran through the tunnels together, hiding from Freaks, and watching each other’s backs. Fade told me you saved him down there.”

“He saved me too.” So many times, and in ways I couldn’t describe, as if I had been dying of a wound I didn’t know I’d taken.

“He also said it was the first time he felt safe since he joined your enclave.”

Our walk ended in front of the Oakses’ house. I noticed anew how cozy and nicely kept it was, not fancy like the Bigwater place, but it suited me fine. Taking my cue from Tegan and what she’d said about spending the night with Merry like that was a good thing, I murmured, “I can ask Momma Oaks if you can stay over, if you like. My bed’s big enough.”

“That would be fun.”

I ran inside and found my foster mother in the sitting room with a blanket spread across her lap. It was a particular kind of cover pieced together from scraps of fabric and it was astonishingly lovely. I’d be afraid to use it; that’s how fine it was.

“I asked Tegan to stay the night. Is that all right?”

“It’s a little late if it isn’t,” she grumbled, “since you already extended the invitation.” But I could tell by the twinkle in her eyes that she didn’t mind. “Of course, she’s a nice girl. Did you check with the Tuttles?”

“We’ll go do that now.”

I lifted my skirt and darted out, ignoring her admonition not to run. Momma Oaks’s quiet laughter followed me. “And to think I always wanted a daughter.”

Tegan raised both brows. “Well?”

“It’s fine. Do you want me to come with you?”

She shook her head. “I’ll be back in half an hour or so. If I don’t return, you’ll know Doc found more important work for me to do.”

“I hope not.” As that would mean someone was sick or injured.

“Me too. I could use a night off.”

I went back in the house to find my foster mother in the kitchen. A sweet and spicy scent filled the air already. If I was having a guest over, then she needed to make the evening meal special, no matter that we’d eaten cake at the party.

It was pointless, but I tried to talk her out of it. “You don’t have to go to any trouble. I just want the company.”

“You don’t understand mothers at all,” she said gently.

“I guess not. I never had one.”

Momma Oaks touched my cheek. “I know, Deuce. Just accept that I do for you because I want to. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t. It’s just that simple.”

For some reason, a lump swelled in my throat. “Thank you,” I said thickly.

After asking her if she needed my help—and she declined—I went upstairs to tidy my room. It wasn’t bad, usually, but the hair curling before the party resulted in damp rags all over, and my clothing wasn’t as ordered as I preferred. By the time Tegan arrived, I had everything back in place.

I ran lightly down the stairs to greet her. “What do you want to do?”

Tegan stepped into the kitchen doorway, rapping her knuckles to draw my foster mother’s attention. “Do you have a game cupboard?”

“I most certainly do. Let me show you.”

I tilted my head, curious. She’d never mentioned it to me, but I hadn’t known to ask for it, either. Inside the bureau in the sitting room, there was a cabinet full of interesting odds and ends. Tegan drew out four wooden boxes and we took them to the sofa to see what they contained. She unpacked the contents one by one, her expression brightening.

“Do you know what these are?” I asked.

“Most of them.” She touched each one and named them for my benefit. “Connect Four. Tangram. Cribbage. Holey Moley. Checkers. This looks like a chess set, but that’s a pretty complicated game. I’m not a very good player.”

“I am,” Edmund said as he came into the room.

On impulse, I pushed to my feet and greeted him with a kiss on the cheek. He was smiling when I sat down next to Tegan again.

“Could you teach us?” She tilted her head in a pleading look.

Edmund nodded. “Let me get washed up and change my clothes. If you girls still want to learn when I get back, I’ll go over some basic strategies with you.”

“Strategy.” I turned the word over in my head. It sounded as if this game might prove valuable in other regards, if it sharpened my ability to plan. I might be able to apply what I learned about chess in a martial fashion.

When I said as much to Tegan, she shook her head and laughed. “You never think about anything but fighting, do you? Let’s play this while we wait. It’s not hard.” She took the lattice and set it up, explaining that I fit my pieces into a slot and my goal was try to get four of them in a row before she did.

By the time Edmund joined us, I’d lost my first game of Connect Four, but I thought I had the hang of it. But it was time for our first lesson then; he proved an effective teacher, and soon Tegan and I knew enough about chess to try a match on our own. I was pondering my next move when Momma Oaks called us to dinner. It smelled delicious; she had cooked a dish where meat and vegetables were covered in cream sauce and encased in flaky pastry.

“This is amazing,” Tegan said, after taking the first bite.

“It’s my favorite. Thank you, Momma Oaks.”

My foster mother lifted her fork with a satisfied smile. “It’s enough that I’m cooking for people who appreciate me.”

“I appreciate you,” Edmund protested.