Unfollowers by Leigh Ann Ruggiero

Author:Leigh Ann Ruggiero [Ruggiero, Leigh Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: University of Massachusetts Press

Barb • December 2010

The next morning Barb kept to her routine. Her exhaustion mattered less than avoiding suspicion.

She hadn’t expected Karin to be the one to see through her.

They were collecting eggs when Karin faced her, eyes puffy from crying. “How do you feel about Ross?”

Barb’s shoulders tensed. “Much the way you feel about Caj, I’m sure.”

“I keep secrets from Caj.”

Barb stared at the three eggs cradled in her shirt. She heard the insinuation. Karin, awake and crying, must have spotted her heading to the hangar last night.

She sighed and set the eggs in the basket. “Okay.”

Karin wiped her hands on her trousers. “You like it—that Declan reminds you of before.”

Her tone made Barb wonder if staying away from Declan had been an unspoken condition of their friendship. She shouldn’t have been surprised. Most of her friendships had ended: with Makeda as a child, with Julie as a teenager, with Ann at the conference. But not Declan. Never him. She shook her head. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Karin shouldered the basket. “I think you do.”

Barb considered following her, worried she might say something to Ross, but part of her wanted to be outed. She also knew Karin wouldn’t do that.

She stood in the coop’s entrance and stared at the hangar. Severing ties would result in a slow death, like an ear of corn snapped from its stalk and left to wither. Still, sever she must.

The thought plagued her as she taught lessons. After dismissal she headed to the hangar and found Declan running maintenance after his last flight out. All Barb had to do was lean against the wall for him to look up. He motioned her toward Arnold’s empty workbench.

“Can’t close the doors without drawing attention.” He sat on the bench while she remained standing. There was an edge of panic in his voice.

She hugged her elbows. “I was wrong to come to you last night.”

He stared at her, his face blank before settling into its usual mask. “You don’t love me.”

“Of course I love you.” Even now she wanted to sit close to him, though she was afraid of losing momentum. “But I’m not who you need. And—” She hunched her shoulders. “I was a little terrified the day you came to recruit us.”

“I was there. And you’re easy to read.”

That annoyed her, but also made things easier. “I make you miserable.”

He spread his hands in front of him. “Don’t you mean I make you miserable?”

She wavered. It wasn’t her first time projecting her feelings onto someone. “Don’t you think that what we’re doing—that no good can come of it?”

“You sound like your mother.”

She wanted to argue, but guilt pressed against her sternum and kept her on her heels, silent, waiting for the next assault. He stood and she backed away without thinking.

A dry laugh escaped from his throat. “This is my curse.”

The despair in his voice worried her. It was too much like how she’d felt when she first found him at the conference. But that desperation had driven them together; this desperation was unpredictable.

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