Daughter of Nox

Chapter Thirty-Two

The constant flaming she got from Academy had Freya wondering if the universe had it out for her. Not that she voiced this opinion. Telling people the universe was out to get you might lead them to think you were Separatist-level nuts.

If there was some omnipotent jerk holding her to the fire this whole time, then Freya was starting to think it must have recently had a change of heart. The day after meeting Alexander was easily the best she'd had since being launched from her father's burning cruiser on Day Zero.

She bounced from one class to the next, feeling a sense of pleasant surprise each time the tone signaled the end of class. It was like someone had set everyone in the world to overdrive save for Freya. Basically, it was a perfect day.

Well, almost perfect.

As great as it was to feel the breeze of classes zooming by, her thoughts kept drifting to Alexander and whatever he had planned for them, specifically the look on Father's face if they were caught. Visions of the Academy brig played out in her mind. Sobbing and clinging onto the bars of a cell, she'd plead to be let out while Father looked on sternly.

She shook her head. That was ridiculous. If Alexander said it was safe, then it was safe. Right? Of course, she didn't even know this boy. He could be crazy. Reckless. He could be another Hela.

She shivered at the thought.

If she was being honest with herself, she knew Alexander didn't feel like another Hela. Something about him felt safe. Secure, even. Like he was the kind of person she could count on. A voice in her head told her it was crazy to think that she could really know someone she'd only just met. But for some reason it didn't matter. Trusting him seemed as natural as breathing, as solid as the ground beneath her feet.

After classes, Freya headed straight to her room. Extra time in the sims had left her with a backlog of homework that she couldn't put off any longer, not to mention the extra work she'd picked up as punishment for daydreaming about her upcoming meeting with Alexander in her Politics class.

"Thanks a lot, Alexander," she said as she dropped her datapad onto the desk near her window.

The light had emptied from the sky by the time Freya finished. Her brain felt just as drained, and the only thing she wanted at that moment was to slip into bed and catch a few hours of sleep before she had to do it all again.

Sleep had barely snuck onto her when her datapad chirped with a message.

Freya squeezed her eyes tighter. Ignore it, she thought. Whoever it was, it could wait until morning.

The datapad chirped again.

Freya groaned and threw back the covers, cursing herself for not turning the thing off before getting into bed.

"If this is my dad sending me a message," she growled to the room. "Then I swear I am never talking to him again."

She snatched up the datapad and thumbed through the messages. It wasn't him. In fact, it wasn't from anyone she knew. The spot for the sender's origin read only, "Origin."

She skipped through the sender screen to read the message, and felt herself get even more confused.

"Can you help us?"

Freya felt herself growing irritated. Whoever had sent the message–whoever had woken her up–had clearly sent it to the wrong person.

Freya hit the respond button and pounded the screen of her pad as she typed out a response.

"I don't know who you are." She said the words as she typed. "But try and double check your address before you wave someone IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT."