Cheon and Mera exchanged a look. The kind of look that said volumes without a single word being spoken. I'd learned to recognize that look over the past two weeks. It usually preceded some kind of intervention.
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing," Cheon said.
"You're doing that thing."
"What thing?"
"The thing where you communicate telepathically and then pretend like nothing happened."
Mera snorted. "We don't communicate telepathically."
"Could've fooled me."
Cheon walked over and straightened my collar. The gesture was intimate in a way that still surprised me sometimes. A week ago, she'd been the class representative who tolerated my existence. Now she was adjusting my clothes before I went to meet another woman.
"Be careful," she said.
"I'm always careful."
"You're never careful. That's why I have to remind you."
"Fair point."
She kissed me. Quick and soft, just a brush of lips that left the faint taste of her cherry lip gloss behind.
