I slipped the bill into the machine and pressed the buttons for the Butterfinger. After hearing the coins jingle into the change cup, I bought a bottle of water and then headed back down to the basement. Cy had his small Styrofoam bowl of uncooked spinach leaves and vinegar.
I stood in front of his desk. He looked up.
“Grass again?” I asked.
“Yes. Much better than a quart of grease and curdled cow’s milk or the additives and chemicals in that package you’re carrying.”
“Cheese is the food of the gods. Milk is high in calcium, and Butterfinger is in the Bible.”
“I’m certain it’s not.”
“It is. You must have skipped over the book of Nestlé.”
“Milk. I’ll never understand it. Humans are the only mammals who drink the newborn nourishment of another mammal. Disgusting.”
“Oh, so you’re suddenly better than us lowly humans, are you? Because you look like a cow right now.”
Cy stopped chewing the spinach leaves. “I didn’t say that.”
“Egyptians are still human, last I checked.”
“You are correct. Rory…thank you for trusting me.”
I nodded, quietly opening the wrapping of my candy bar.
Ten minutes later, I had finished my chocolate, Cy had finished his grass, and we continued to work on recording the stack of data Cy and Dr. Z had gathered. As Cy thumbed through the printouts and I typed, a nearly palpable sense of urgency took over the room. We were nearing the end of our research, and then Cy would take the rock and leave. I would never see him again.
The only sounds were the melody of my uneven fingernails on the keyboard, the intermittent scribbling of Cy’s pencil, and the shuffling of papers.
After an hour of near silence, knowing these would be my last moments with Cy, the clicking under my fingers ceased. I took a deep breath. “I’m going to miss you.”
Cy kept his eyes sealed over the oculars of the microscope. “Me, too. It keeps me awake some nights…how much I’ll think about you when I leave here.”
I turned to him, incredibly relieved at his answer. “I’m not asking you to stay. I’m asking you to come back.”
He looked to me. “I was going to, Rory, but now, I don’t think I…” He stared into my eyes. “I don’t think I should.”
I leaned in. “I thought you were going to miss me?”
We were so close that I could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. His breath smelled sweet even though he’d eaten probably a quarter cup of vinegar that day. He looked down at my mouth, staring at it with such incredible conflict that it made me feel like we were doing something wrong.
“That’s exactly why I shouldn’t come back.”
Chapter Ten
A SNAP SOUNDED, and we both looked down. Cy had been pressing his pencil onto the paper so hard that it broke in half.
He stood up and took a few steps away. “I can handle the rest of this on my own. It’s getting late.”
“Don’t do that.”
We were strangers in the beginning. It had taken me weeks to get Cy to warm up to me. He was only the third person I’d trusted since that horrible night. I took another step toward him. I wondered how I would handle him being gone. When he was around, the urge to be next to him was overwhelming. If he didn’t come back, I wasn’t sure what that would mean, but it didn’t feel right. And at the same time, being alone with Cy and feeling the way I did, knowing Benji was outside and waiting to take me to dinner, didn’t feel right either.
It was all so confusing, and no matter how much I tried to make sense of it in my head, the more confusing it became.
He shoved his hands in his pockets, as if he couldn’t trust himself to leave his hands free. “I wish I could explain everything to you, Rory. You deserve to know the truth about the specimen, about me, about everything. But it’s safer for you if I don’t. I’m only trying to protect you.”
“How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t need—”
“Oh, I know. You’re fully capable of handling things yourself. But not this time, Rory.” He pulled his hands out of his pockets and gripped my arms firmly. “Not this time. And not Benji Reynolds. Stay away from him, Rory. He’s not who you think he is.” Desperation glossed over his eyes.
“Then, who is he?”
Cy looked away. “That is exactly what is so frustrating about this situation. I can’t tell you without risking saying too much.”
“You’re frustrated? You’re leaving, and you want me to promise to stay away from my only friend.”
Cy shook his head. “I’m so sorry. It sounds terrible when you put it that way. I wish it wasn’t that way, Rory. I genuinely wish I could change that for you.”
“You’re not really leaving. Not for good, I mean.”
He nodded.
“No.” I shook my head and then laughed the horrid feeling in my gut away. “No. I don’t believe you.”
“I’m sorry.” His expression twisted in frustration. “That word seems insufficient for the way I feel right now.”
My eyebrows furrowed. Cy wasn’t the first person I’d let myself care about since my parents and Sydney died, but he was the first who was going to leave me. I wasn’t sure if I was angry or sad or afraid. “You…you can’t just let someone care about you and then go away.”
“I tried not to.”
“So, you have feelings for me?”
“Of course I do. I care about you very much. I always have.”
Cy stared at my lips and then let out a faltering breath. “This is wrong,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t feel this way.”
“Feel what way?” I whispered.
Cy reached out to touch my face, and we watched each other for the longest time. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and that was incredibly frustrating. His hands slid from my jaw to my shoulders and then down my arms, taking my hands into his.
“I love her,” he whispered.
His words confused me, and then when my brain finally sorted them out, they didn’t make sense. I hadn’t seen him with anyone.
“Who?”
“My betrothed.”
“Your…betrothed. As in, your fiancée? You’re engaged?”
“It’s similar, yes.”
“She’s in Egypt?”
“We’re to be married when I return.”