Then Alex pokes his head in the door and calls out, “Lena?” He catches sight of Hana first and freezes, half-in and half-out of the alley.
For a minute nobody speaks. Hana’s mouth literally falls open. She whips around from Alex to me and then back to Alex, so quickly it looks like her head is going to fly off her neck. Alex doesn’t know what to do either. He just stands completely still, like he can go invisible if he doesn’t move.
And it’s the stupidest thing in the world, but all I can blurt out is, “You’re late.”
Hana and Alex both speak at once. “You told him to meet you?” she says, as he says, “I got stopped by patrol. Had to show my cards.”
Hana gets businesslike all at once. This is why I admire her: One second she’s sobbing hysterically, the next second she’s completely in control.
“Come inside,” she says, “and shut the door.”
He does. Then he stands there awkwardly, shuffling his feet. His hair is sticking up all weirdly, and in that second he looks so young and cute and nervous I have a crazy urge to walk right up to him, in front of Hana, and kiss him.
But she quashes that urge really quickly. She turns to me and folds her arms and gives me a look I swear she stole from Mrs. McIntosh, the principal of St. Anne’s.
“Lena Ella Haloway Tiddle,” she says. “You have some explaining to do.”
“Your middle name is Ella?” Alex blurts.
Hana and I both shoot him a death stare, and he takes a step backward and ducks his head.
“Um.” Words still aren’t coming very easily. “Hana, you remember Alex.”
She keeps her arms locked in place and narrows her eyes. “Oh, I remember Alex. What I don’t remember is why Alex is here.”
“He . . . well, he was going to drop off . . .” I’m still searching for a convincing explanation but, as usual, my brain picks that second to conveniently die on me. I look at Alex helplessly.
He gives a minute shrug of his shoulders, and for a moment we just stare at each other. I’m still not used to seeing him, to being around him, and again I have the sensation of falling into his eyes. But this time it’s not dizzying. It’s the opposite—grounding, like he’s whispering to me wordlessly, saying he’s there and he’s with me and we’re fine.
“Tell her,” he says.
Hana leans up against the shelves stocked with toilet paper and canned beans, relaxing her arms just enough so I know she isn’t mad, and gives me a look like, You better tell me.
So I do. I’m not sure how long we have until Jed gets tired of manning the register by himself, so I try to keep it short. I tell her about running into Alex at Roaring Brook Farms; I tell her about swimming out to the buoys with him at East End Beach and what he told me when we were there. I choke a little bit on the word Invalid and Hana’s eyes widen—just for a second I see a look of alarm flash across her face—but she keeps it together pretty well. I finish by telling her about last night, and going to find her to warn her about the raids, and the dog and how Alex saved me. When I describe hiding out in the shed I get nervous again—I don’t tell her about the kissing, but I can’t help but think about it—but Hana is openmouthed again at that point, and obviously in shock, so I don’t think she notices.
The only thing she says at the end of my story is: “So you were there? You were there last night?” Her voice is weird and trembly, and I’m worried she’s going to start crying again. At the same time I feel a tremendous rush of relief. She’s not going to freak out about Alex, or be mad that I didn’t tell her.
I nod.
She shakes her head, staring at me like she’s never seen me before. “I can’t believe that. I can’t believe you snuck out during a raid—for me.”
“Yeah, well.” I shift uncomfortably. It feels like I’ve been talking for ages, and Hana and Alex have both been staring at me the whole time. My cheeks are flaming hot.
Just then there’s a sharp knock on the door that opens to the store, and Jed calls out, “Lena? Are you in there?”
I gesture frantically to Alex. Hana shoves him behind the door just as Jed starts pushing at it from the other side. He manages to get the door open only a few inches before it collides with the crate of applesauce.
In those few inches of space, I can see one of Jed’s eyes blinking at me disapprovingly.
“What are you doing in there?”
Hana pops her head around the door and waves. “Hi, Jed,” she says cheerfully, once again switching effortlessly into cheerful public mode. “I just came by to give Lena something. And we started gossiping.”
“We have customers,” Jed says sullenly.
“I’ll be out in a second,” I say, trying to match Hana’s tone. The fact that Jed and Alex are separated by only a few inches of plywood is terrifying.
Jed grunts and retreats, closing the door again. Hana, Alex, and I look at one another in silence. All three of us exhale at the same time, a collective sigh of relief.
When Alex speaks again, he keeps his voice to a whisper. “I brought some things for your leg,” he says. He takes the backpack off and sets it on the ground, then starts pulling out peroxide, Bacitracin, bandages, adhesive tape, cotton balls. He kneels in front of me. “Can I?” he says. I roll up my jeans, and he starts unwinding the strips of T-shirt. I can’t believe Hana is standing there watching a boy—an Invalid—touch my skin. I know she would never in a million years have expected it, and I look away, embarrassed and proud at the same time.
Hana inhales sharply once the makeshift bandages come off my leg. Without meaning to I’ve been squeezing my eyes shut.
“Damn, Lena,” she says. “That dog got you good.”
“She’ll be fine,” Alex says, and the quiet confidence in his voice makes warmth spread through my whole body. I crack open an eye and sneak a look at the back of my calf. My stomach does a flop. It looks like an enormous chunk has been torn out of my leg. A few square inches of skin are just plain missing.
“Maybe you should go to the hospital,” Hana says doubtfully.
“And tell them what?” Alex uncaps the tube of peroxide and begins wetting cotton balls. “That she got hurt during a raid on an underground party?”
Hana doesn’t answer. She knows I can’t actually go to the doctor. I’d be strapped down in the labs, or thrown in the Crypts, before I could finish giving my name.
“It doesn’t hurt that bad,” I say, which is a lie. Hana again gives me that look, like we’ve never met before, and I realize that she’s actually—and possibly for the first time in our lives—impressed with me. In awe of me, even.
Alex dabs on a thick coat of antibacterial cream and then starts wrestling with the gauze and the adhesive tape. I don’t have to ask where he got so many supplies. Another benefit to having security access in the labs, I assume.
Hana drops to her knees. “You’re doing it wrong,” she says, and it’s a relief to hear her normal, bossy tone. I almost laugh. “My cousin’s a nurse. Let me.”
She practically elbows him out of the way. Alex shuffles over and raises his hands in surrender. “Yes, ma’am,” he says, and then winks at me.
Then I do start laughing. Fits of giggling overtake me, and I have to clamp my hands over my mouth to keep from shrieking and gasping and totally blowing our cover. For a second Hana and Alex just stare at me, amazed, but then they look at each other and start grinning stupidly.
I know we’re all thinking the same thing.
It’s crazy. It’s stupid. It’s dangerous. But somehow, standing in the sweltering storeroom surrounded by boxes of mac ’n’ cheese and canned beets and baby powder, the three of us have become a team.
It’s us against them, three against countless thousands. But for some reason, and even though it’s absurd, at that moment I feel pretty damn good about our odds.
Chapter Sixteen
Unhappiness is bondage; therefore, happiness is freedom.
The way to find happiness is through the cure.
Therefore, it is only through the cure that one finds freedom.
—From Will It Hurt? Common Questions and Answers About the Procedure, 9th edition, Association of American Scientists, Official USA Government Agency Pamphlet