Strandline

Strandline - Episode 13: Perfect Strangers

Kristin stayed beside Naveen after he’d drifted to sleep. It wasn’t just because he felt good, although she couldn’t deny that that was part of it. For the first time since she’d fled San Francisco, Kristin felt secure. In a way, Naveen was a kindred spirit. Both of their lives had been turned upside-down.

After indulging for a few more minutes, Kristin willed herself away from Naveen’s warm, toned body and returned to the living room. Craig was still sprawled in the armchair. He sat up straight, setting his now-empty beer bottle on the floor. “Is he okay?”

Kristin nodded as returned to her earlier spot on the couch. “As okay as you can get after what he’s been through.”

“What are we–” Craig cut himself off and gave Kristin an apologetic half-smile. “I’m making assumptions. You probably want to get back to Strandline.”

Kristin frowned for a moment, puzzled. “Oh. Um… not really. I…” What could she say? ‘I’m a refugee. Need a roommate?’ Instead she replied, “I only got there recently, so it’s not like home or anything.” She pushed back a wave of homesickness; she doubted she’d see San Francisco again. “It might seem weird since I barely know you guys, but I would like to help. I kinda get what Naveen’s going through. I just ‘broke out’ myself.”

Craig’s eyes went wide. “That’s right, from the Western Coalition.” He waved at the window. With the blinds still pulled up, the view of the half-dark city competed with glare from the TV. “With all of the craziness earlier I’d forgotten about that. You can stay here as long as you like. I’m sure ‘Veen’s cool with it.” Then his face fell.

“What?” Kristin asked.

“I need to call Pacific Rim tomorrow. See how long the ship’s out of commission. I might be out of a job. Naveen too.”

Kristin nodded, pushing aside thoughts of her aborted career. Chagrined, she admitted, “I’m pretty much broke. But I can and will work.”

“It’ll be all right,” Craig said with a smile. “We nictans gotta stick together.” Mention of their subspecies made Kristin tense. Craig noticed. “It gets easier. Getting away from Coalition propaganda will help a lot. And seriously? Teleporting rocks.”

Kristin laughed. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

***

Around 11 a.m. Kristin bounded up the stairs to her new home. The new-to-her backpack slung over one shoulder was filled to bursting with clothes she’d bought at a consignment shop. Craig had lent her money–Republic bills were appropriately colorful for the tropics–to go shopping. She couldn’t wait to shower and change into clean clothes.

The aroma of pancakes and bacon greeted Kristin as she let herself into the apartment. Naveen, who was working on a plate of fried goodness in front of the TV, waved a hello as he chewed. After swallowing he said, “Morning!”

“What’s left of it,” Kristin teased.

Naveen shrugged and pointed his fork at the kitchen. “There’s more if you want some.”

Kristin’s rumbling stomach decided for her. “I think I will, thanks.” After setting her backpack down against he low wall separating the kitchen from the living room, Kristin helped herself to a chipped ceramic plate and cheap cutlery. Naveen and Craig’s apartment was a bachelor pad if she’d ever seen one.

“Have fun shopping?” Naveen called.

“Yeah,” she replied as she put two strips of bacon and two pancakes on her plate. “Rose’s Consignment had plenty to choose from.” She didn’t normally buy second-hand clothes, but beggars can’t be choosers. As she returned to the living room with her second breakfast she asked, “Where’s Craig?”