No Destination (Chapter 7: Watch the Watch)

“Hey, we’ve got to go,” Abel called, finishing up his inspection of the pipes snaking up the walls. “They said to get back by 2:00.” When the pilot didn’t respond, Abel clicked his tongue and made his way across the interior of the ship, leather soles soundless against the floor. He stopped behind Cain. Then, he twisted around and yanked the door open. The loud rattle made the other boy visibly jump in his seat.

“Mother’s blessings!” Twisting one of his earflaps, Cain shot Abel a squinty glare. “Can you not? At least make a sound when you’re walking.”

“What happened to your ears being better than mine?” Abel snapped back, one hand still wrapped around the door handle. “I said, come on.”

Cain waved him off. His eyes returned to the buttons and levers. “We’ve got time,” he drawled, “but you can go. “

Frowning, Abel peered to the south. It was a clear day, so the looming Clocktower was easily readable. A hot-air balloon drifted dangerously close to the bottom of the clock, but Abel was sure that the rider wouldn’t dare get in the way of the city’s main time source. Less out of the goodness of their soul, of course, and more because of the hefty fine. “What do you mean?”

There was a groan and a shuffle of fabric. “It’s 1:45,” Cain grumbled, staring down at something.

“Wait, how can you see?” An answer popped into Abel’s mind. Hurrying over to the pilot, his eyes widened when he saw the gadget on the pilot’s wrist. Cain pulled his sleeve back down, but it was too late. “You have a watch?”

Cain pushed his cap down over his eyes, releasing an even louder groan. “Yeah.” Then, he readjusted his headpiece and a smirked, lolling his head back to face the navigator. “Newest model,” he said, displaying the machinery once more. Its novelty was prominent in the sleek design, hardly thicker than an inch, and was one of the fancy ones with a glass covering and wooden hands.

Abel kept his face level, knowing that the pilot was digging for a pathetic display of envy. He had to say something. The first thing to come to mind was a jab involving its pricing and Cain being here on a scholarship, but that would be like pouring gasoline onto their wrecked relationship. So, he voiced the next thought. “Where is that from? I don’t recognize the brand.”

“It doesn’t have one, genius. A friend made it for me.”

“That’s a load of fodder.” No artisan of that level would put that much precious time into a free gift.

“It’s the truth. I have good friends.” Raising his eyebrows in a taunting manner, Cain turned away.

Then, Abel realized something. “Hold up. You’re not allowed to wear accessories during school hours.”

“Of course you’re a stick in the mud, too.” Cain rolled his eyes. “We’ve graduated already. They’re not going to keep on dictating our dress when we’re flying through the air, alone, for ninety-percent of the time.”

“Yes, but we haven’t started flying yet. Those rules are for all students on school grounds, and even if we’re not in university anymore, we’re still considered students for these next two years. On our licenses. And since the school’s renting this takeoff area, it’s school grounds.” It was true that Abel was a stickler for the rules, but this time, his insistence stemmed more from a desire to annoy the other boy.

It was succeeding. “Mother bless me, this is ridiculous. If you report it, you’re just wasting their time. Nobody cares.” With that, Cain slouched back against his seat. He raised his wrist and eyed the watch for longer than probably necessary, then stood up. “Thanks for wasting my time. Now we actually have to go.” He didn’t stop when he reached the exit that Abel was standing in. Instead, he all but pushed the navigator out. The drop to the ground left Abel stumbling.

Heart racing from the near-fall, the navigator whirled around to lash at Cain. The Xingese boy had broken into a run, and was already a decent distance. Abel opened his mouth to yell an uncharacteristic profanity, but the sight of a girl leaving the ship next to theirs had him swallowing those words. Jolyne, if he remembered correctly. If he knew her name, she definitely knew his.

She noticed his stare, and he quickly averted his gaze. Lowering his head, he ran past her in fear that she took his look as an invitation for conversation. Once he was well past her, he slowed into a brisk walk. There were other people, so Abel kept his eyes on the dirt. Every time he spotted partners chatting it up, a bitterness would well up. Unfortunately, there were a lot of students choosing this time to head back to the podium.

“This is why I wanted to go earlier,” he hissed through his teeth. He tried not to think about the fact that he was the only person around walking alone. It helped to remember that Cain was in the same situation.

Finally, he reached the stage for the third time that day. Hopefully it would be the last, and this was to let them go home. Judging from the people lining up at the gates, he was right.

Abel took his place at the end of line, relief lightening his mind. They had only been here for a couple hours, and a good portion of those hours was free time, but it felt like such a long day. He couldn’t wait to get home. Even the prospect of making dinner later that day didn’t change that feeling.

A familiar beige hat was visible above the crowd. Cocking his head, Abel took a step to look further up the line.

It was Cain, all right. The Xingese had his arms slung over the shoulders of two other boys, and their laughter could be heard from where Abel was.

Running his hands through his hair, the navigator sighed. A long day, indeed.