Daughter of Nox

Chapter Forty

Etta stood by the door, arms folded over her chest, tapping her foot. "If we catch hell for being late to this F.O.X. briefing, then I'm blaming you."

"Don't you know anything?" Freya sat on the edge of her bed, tugging her boot on. "You never want to be the first one to a party."

"Forgive me if I'm the tiniest bit apprehensive," Etta said. "But I'd prefer not missing anything that's going to help me stay unshot."

Freya tightened down the straps and went to work on the other boot. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"

"No, Freya. I'm not going to let go of the time I was shot in the chest with a plasma rifle."

"Simulated plasma rifle. Let's not forget that important detail."

"You know what's not going to be simulated?" She pointed to her boot. "My toe meeting your backside if you don't hurry the flaming hell up."

"Calm down, Second," Freya said. "I'm going as fast as I can."

In truth, Freya was not going as fast as she could. Ever since Etta had told her she wanted to walk to the F.O.X. briefing together, Freya had been doing her best to stall. Freya had been counting on Etta getting sick of waiting and just heading off on her own. But Etta, it seemed, was committed to waiting, and Freya felt a pang of guilt for being the source of her Second's anxiety.

It wasn't that she wanted to be a pain, but Freya had other plans she was set on taking care of before she went to the F.O.X. briefing. She had the Origin to meet, and she wanted to do it alone.

Freya knew that Etta would come if she asked, even if it did mean being late for this ridiculous briefing. But Freya didn't want to ask. Freya wanted to meet them–whoever them was–alone. Unfortunately, that meant letting Etta feel a bit of panic.

Etta's foot had started tapping again. "Would it help if I put your boots on for you?"

"Just go f you're so worried about being late," Freya said. "I think I can find my way to the mess hall."

"If I don't go with you then I'll have to save you a seat. And then every time someone tries to sit there I'll have to tell them, 'No, this seat is saved.'"

"What's wrong with that?"

"Obviously it's that they'll give me a look like they think I just don't want to sit next to them." Etta shook her head. "And that's not something I'm willing to do for you, Freya Airm."

Freya stopped strapping on her boot. "Since when have you ever cared about something like that?"

"Don't stop putting on your boot," Etta stabbed a finger toward Freya's foot. "And I don't ever care about things like that, but this slagging sim is stressing me out." She slumped back against the wall. "I just really don't want to get shot again, Fray. It hurts, and I'm a strong opponent of things on me hurting."

Freya finished with her boot and stood up. "Done."

"Finally," Etta said an exasperated voice. "Now can we go before you remember to do something else?"

Freya let out a nervous chuckle and followed Etta into the hall. They made it onto the front lawn of their barracks when Freya stopped.

"Flaming hell." She slapped at where her comm usually sat hooked to her belt. "I left my comm inside."

Etta looked as though she might crawl out of her skin. "Can't you just get it later."

"I'm waiting for Alexander to wave me," Freya lied. "Just go on without me and I'll meet you there."