Page 48 of The Lottery

That leaves just one chair available.

The one next to me.

Azalea pulls out her chair, slides into her seat, and murmurs an apology when her thigh brushes against mine as she sits.

I stiffen--everywhere--my breath sucked in and stilled as the heat of her touch sends flames through my whole body. As I exhale, her hand brushes against my arm, the delicate tips of her fingers hovering just over my skin.

I shiver as she sucks in a breath.

This is agony.

Robert and Astrid are still discussing something… engineering maybe? My mind refuses to focus on anything but Azalea’s proximity.

If they notice we are behaving strangely, they give no indication. Which seems… preposterous, because I feel sure we have neon signs pointing to us right now.

I tug at my tux collar and pour Azalea a glass of champagne from the bottle provided. Belatedly I realize I should have poured Astrid’s first, and I feel like an ass. An ass who never wanted to be in this situation, and for this exact reason.

I pour Astrid’s next with a soft apology. She gives me a curious look before standing and leaning across the table to whisper in my ear. “Don’t worry, I’m not the jealous type. To be honest, I’m using you to try to distract myself from someone else. Hope that’s okay?”

She bites her lip, a worried expression on her face, and my shoulders relax a fraction. I can work with being used as a distraction by someone who does not seek more. I nod. “As long as we are both clear.”

She throws a glance toward Azalea then moves back to my ear. “I see the way you two look at each other. Anyone with eyeballs would know you’ve both already fallen hard. There’s a huge NOT AVAILABLE sign on both your foreheads.”

I almost laugh at her exaggeration of our situation, but my gaze flicks to Azalea, who shifts her eyes away the moment I catch her watching. Does Robert not see it then? How we feel for each other, though we have fought against it all this time?

Perhaps Azalea is better at hiding such things, but then I see the blush on her cheek, remember the way her expressive eyes telegraph her emotions, the way the curve of her mouth can speak to so many sentiments without uttering a single word, and I realize if anyone is oblivious to her pain, her needs, her desires… then they are not paying any attention and do not deserve hers.

It is, of course, a presumptuous stance to take, given who I am--or rather am not--in her life, but she deserves for someone to take such a stance, even someone as undeserving as I.

Tonight, Elspeth is the face of this mission, and so when she clinks a spoon to her glass to gain the attention of the now-crowded ballroom, I turn with the rest of the guests to face the head table.

She has changed into an elegant black gown tonight, and I smile at her, encouraged that even she is finding the fun in this evening. If it brings joy to our fearless captain, it’s certainly worth it.

As Elspeth begins to speak, I cannot help but study Azalea’s profile. She is listening attentively, but her jaw is clenched and her fingers squeeze her champagne glass so hard I worry the stem might shatter.

I would give much to lean into her and ask what troubles her, but I will not take away from Elspeth’s speech this night.

She speaks of our journey across the stars. To a new world. A new planet. A new life.

Of how we need to bring forth from our core that which is made of stardust. That which is ready to embrace a new way of living.

Her speech does not inspire the hecklers that mine typically do. Instead, we are all humbled, holding the weight of her words in our silence.

After a few more moments, she nods. “You have heard me then. Good. Tonight, we come together as one. Crew, Guests, Lottery Winners, none of that matters after tonight. Landing on Mars erases it all. We become one people.”

“We should have a name,” someone from the back calls out.

Elspeth nods, a smile on her face. “I’m sure once we arrive and get a sense of our new home, something will come to us. Now, enjoy yourselves. Before this evening is done, we will touch down on our new planet. Thank you.”

The mood lightens after that. The music shifts from melancholic to upbeat. Couples stand and lead each other to the dance floor as the alcohol flows more freely and laughter and bright banter are lobbied about the hall like shining balloons, filling the air with a heady energy that feels contagious.

I feel a tug on my hand and look up to see Astrid. “Come on. It’ll be fun.” I reluctantly stand and let her pull me toward the empty space on the floor where couples have started moving to the music.

“Must we?” I ask, hoping quietly for another scheduled power outage.

“Yes, we must,” Astrid responds with a wink. She looks over my shoulder and as we spin, I see her eyes are on Robert and Azalea. They dance next to each other, but their bodies do not touch. Neither looks particularly happy. Still, my blood boils with envy, wishing I was in Robert’s shoes.

Meanwhile, Astrid leads our dance with impressive talent. I try to keep up as she guides me around the floor, stepping and spinning to the swing music.

---