Forged Read Free Page B

over his tears, and it hits me again: He is only thirteen.
    â€œIt’s still not confirmed, Clip,” I say. “She might be okay.”
    â€œSome birthday gift, huh?” he says between sniffles.
    The idea of a party—drinks and darts—suddenly seems ridiculous. “Hey, if you just want to head to bed tonight, we all understand. Whatever you need.”
    â€œNo,” he says, sitting up. “Don’t change the plans.” He wipes his cheeks dry. “I want to keep things as normal as possible. Let’s have that party. I think I could use a drink.”
    â€œI don’t know if—”
    â€œYou just said anything I want,” he snaps.
    I glance at Sammy, who looks like he wants to take back hiscomment about treating the kid to several rounds.
    â€œYou got it, Clipper,” Bree says. “Come on, I’ll get you your first.”
    After grabbing dinner from the mess hall, everyone makes their way to the bar. Everyone but me. I can’t bring myself to celebrate a birthday with the fate of Crevice Valley still unconfirmed. I pace the halls, head to the barracks and shower just to keep my mind occupied. In the end, being anxious alone seems even more absurd than being anxious with friends. As it is most evenings, the bar is packed when I finally arrive.
    I find Clipper and Jules facing off against Sammy and Bree in a game of darts, the others watching. When Clipper spots me, a dumb grin streaks over his face.
    â€œHow much did you give him?” I ask Bree.
    â€œEnough.”
    â€œGreat, he’s just drinking so he can forget.”
    Bree examines the tip of her dart, then glances up at me. “That’s why everyone drinks heavily, Gray: to forget.”
    â€œYou know that’s not what I . . . Look, he’s just a kid. I think—”
    â€œTreating him like a kid is what’s dangerous. He’s one of us. If he thinks we don’t see him that way, it will be nothing but trouble.”
    â€œHe’s gonna be passed out in—”
    â€œRelax. I let him have one drink and then switched him over to watered-down stuff. He doesn’t know the difference, and if he does, he clearly doesn’t care. Point is, he feels like he’s included, that we’re not babying him, and I’m pretty sure that’s what he needs right now.”
    Clipper throws his last dart and turns to us, the grin still on his face.
    â€œYou need a drink,” he says to me. “I want a birthday toast.”
    â€œWe’d have initiated that in the end,” Blaine says. “You don’t have to demand it.”
    I wave a thumb over my shoulder, letting Blaine know I’ll visit the bar.
    â€œGrab one for me, too?” he asks, and goes back to teasing Clipper.
    In many ways, the bar reminds me of Crevice Valley’s Tap Room. This place has cleaner edges and uniform tables, but the energy is the same. Music is seeping from a far corner—the strum of a lazy guitar. The lighting is dim and the space around the many tables crowded. After a day of work and a lifetime of worries, the Expats here are seeking out a little merriment, trying to forget the grim uncertainties for a while.
    Forget . Just like Bree said. Does that girl have to be right about everything?
    I raise two fingers for the bartender and tell him to chargethe drinks to Adam. It’s worked every other visit, and I don’t think Adam is going to start complaining now. In fact, I’m starting to wonder if this is his way of bribing us: drinks at night in exchange for another day of pointless work in the greenhouse.
    The bartender slides two glass mugs my way. I’m gathering them up, a palm cupping each, when I’m hip checked playfully.
    â€œYou were supposed to let me buy you one,” Jules says. “Remember?” She leans into me until we’re touching from shoulder to elbow. She’s so tall she barely has to look up at me as she