Грань будущего

           Sittingup,Ibitdownontheairafewtimestotestmyjaw.Thatpunchhadcaughtmeatjusttherightangle.Thingsdidn’tseemtobeliningupthewaytheyshould.Rachelcaughtsightofme.

           "Sorryaboutthat.He’sreallynotsuchabadguy."

           "Iknow."

           Shesmiled."You’remorematurethanyoulook."

           "Notmatureenoughtostayoutoftrouble,apparently,"Irepliedwithashrug.

           Peoplewerealwaysalittlehigh-strungthedaybeforeabattle.

           AndguyswerealwayslookingforanopportunitytolookgoodinfrontofaknockoutlikeRachel.Thedeckwasdefinitelystackedagainstme,thoughI’msurethefaceI’dbeenmakinghadn’thelpedthesituationany.

           "Whatareyou,apacifist?Rarebreedintheseparts."

           "Iliketosaveitforthebattlefield."

           "Thatexplainsit."

           "Explainswhat?"

           "Whyyouwereholdingback.You’reobviouslythebetterfighter."Rachel’seyesstareddownatmeintently.Shewastallforawoman.FlowerLineBasehadbeenbuiltthreeyearsago.Ifshe’dcometothebaseimmediatelyaftergettinghernutritionist’slicense,thatwouldmakeheratleastfouryearsolderthanme.Butshesuredidn’tlookit.Anditwasn’tthatshewentoutofherwaytomakeherselflookyoung.Theglowofherbronzeskinandherwarmsmilewereasnaturalastheycame.SheremindedmeofthelibrarianI’dfallenforinhighschool.Thesamesmilethathadstolenmyheartandsentmehappilytoworkairingoutthelibrarythathotsummersolongago.

           "Ourlivesshouldbewritteninstone.