Frost Bite

Chapter 41

Josie

"I heard," Summer says as she approaches us during breakfast the next morning, "that you wanted to talk to me."

I try not to choke on my food as I glare at Ryan, who gives me a sheepish shrug. So much for keeping our agenda on the down low. I give Jack a look and motion my chin toward Ryan and he nods in understanding. As soon as Summer and I are out of earshot he'll give Ryan an earful for me.

"Let's talk," she says motioning me to follow her as I stand up.

Twenty minutes later, I'm huffing and puffing in the hot, humid air that's mostly water as I hike behind Summer. She's taken us probably a mile from camp, mostly uphill, and I'm almost ready to collapse because I can't breathe in this air.

"We'll stop here," she announces. And I let out a sigh of relief.

"Why did you bring me to the top of this mountain?" I demand, reaching into my pack for water as Summer looks on, coolly disinterested. It's the kind of look Jack had in his eyes when I first met him – as if he were experiencing life and people through a pane of glass, separated from them by this invisible barrier.

"You don't want Jack to hear our conversation, do you?" she asks with a detached expression, like I'm a bug in a specimen jar and she's not sure if she wants to get that close.

"I don't particularly care if Jack hears our conversation, but I get the feeling that you don't," I say pointedly.

Summer smiles. "You're a cleverer creature than I first gave you credit for."

I smile right back, with about the same amount of humor. Which to say, minimal. "I get that a lot." And then she's quiet and I'm quiet and I'm left to take in her and her jungle but really her because if I'm going to figure her out I need to size her up. But I keep getting distracted by the startling green of her eyes or the way her sun glows in the sunlight.

And I try not to be, but I'm so jealous.

Sweat makes my hair stick to my forehead, while Summer looks runway ready. Like Jack, she is perfect – every one of her features mean tot stand out and complement the others. She is meant to be painfully beautiful. Perfectly untouchable.

She stares at me, assessing. And I know she's wondering how a frail, imperfect human like me has ended up with Jack. How someone as plain and forgettable as me has captured his attention.

Sometimes, I wonder the exact same thing.

"When you were kidnapped... Did you see him? The man who wanted to become what Jack is," she asks, startling me. Of all the questions I imagined her ever asking me, this was not one.

"No. Jack took care of him. I didn't... I'm human. I would have gotten in the way. And I knew that. I got it. And I know Jack didn't want me to see him deal with it the way we knew he had to. And he would have been distracted, trying to make sure nothing happened to me."

Summer cocks an eyebrow. "You're that self-aware?" she asks, her eyes looking me up and down in appraisal. It's a look meant to make me feel two inches tall.

I square my shoulders. "Shocking, I know."

Summer looks mildly apologetic, which surprise me. "I didn't mean it in that way. Most people... The humans that I've known, they've never been aware of their limits." She says it with a heavy voice, and I think I hear regret.

"How many humans have you known?" I ask and I don't know what answer I expect, but she has been around longer than Jack, without the same cause for self-imposed isolation.