Page 25 of Spread Me
Nkrumah clears her throat. “We can’t do pairs. There are only five of us.”
There’s a long silence as everyone realizes Mads’s mistake—pairs would have worked perfectly, if Domino was around. But they’re not around, and they never will be again.
“I don’t want to strip in front of everyone,” Saskia finally says. “I’d prefer to be one-on-one with somebody.”
Kinsey speaks before she realizes what she’s saying. “I’ll pair with Saskia. Nkrumah, are you okay being a trio with Mads and Jacques?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Jacques says, flashing a sudden grin.
Nkrumah frowns. “We shouldn’t split up.”
“It doesn’t count as splitting up if nobody’s alone.” Mads’s tone is so calm and reasonable that Nkrumah’s frown falters. “As long as we’re all on the same page, right?”
Everyone is silent until Nkrumah nods. “Okay. As long as we’re on the same page.”
Kinsey is about to head out of the room with Saskia, but pauses. “Make sure you count each other’s teeth,” she says after a moment. “Look for extras.”
Jacques’s smile fades. “Will do,” he says softly, then drops his head to attend to the button fly on his jeans.
Saskia and Kinsey head out of the canteen and walk to the lab together. Saskia trails her fingers along the wall, humming a low tone in harmony with the song of the storm that rages just a few inches away from her fingertips. “Teeth,” she says, dropping the tune. “I wouldn’t have thought of that.”
“I noticed yesterday. On Domino.” Kinsey is determined not to look at the cardboard-covered exam room window as they pass it. “It was subtle, though. I like the way Nkrumah put it—”
“Not a matter of not being good. Just a matter of not being perfect,” Saskia finishes. “I liked that too. Seems more respectful. Speaking of respect,” she adds, holding the door to the lab open for Kinsey, “I didn’t get a chance to tell you, I was very impressed by your work yesterday.”
Kinsey steps into the lab, hits the light switch, waits for the fluorescents to slowly flicker to life. Only half of them turn on. In the corner, Weatherman glows with red streams of data. “My work? You mean how I completely botched that sample?”
Saskia closes the door and leans against it. “No. I mean how you manipulated Domino.”
“I’m not following you.”
“You made them think you were aroused by the idea of taking a biopsy. It was clever. All you had to do was connect the tissue sample to the promise of sex.” She’s toying with her cross necklace again, sliding the pendant slowly back and forth on the chain. Half her face is tinted red from Weatherman’s display. “You exploited that brilliantly.”
“Exploited isn’t the word I would use,” Kinsey says, although she knows it’s the right word. “I didn’t even do that on purpose. Wait, how did you hear that? Were you on the headset with Mads?”
“They weren’t using the headset, just the walkie speaker.” Saskia’s mouth spreads into a painfully wide smile. “I love the way you took advantage of Domino’s desire for you. You used it to make them vulnerable. You could have eaten them alive and they would have thanked you for it, so long as you moaned while you took the first bite.”
Kinsey stares at Saskia, counting teeth. There’s something she doesn’t like about the idea that Mads had her on the walkie’s speaker while she was in the exam room. But the longer she looks at Saskia, the harder it is to connect withthat discomfort. She finds her eyes lingering on Saskia’s long after she’s lost the mental thread of their conversation, and in the end she simply turns away, pulling her shirt over her head. “Let’s get this over with.”
Saskia removes everything except her necklace. Kinsey inspects her closely, tells herself this is no different than checking someone for ticks. Saskia’s skin is as smooth as spread butter. There’s a mole nestled into the soft down of her armpit hair, another in the crook of her neck. A scar zags down the back of one calf. She attributes it to a childhood accident, a fall from a rooftop. “I should have been hurt worse,” she says when Kinsey runs a fingertip across it.
“I’m glad you weren’t,” Kinsey answers. She cups Saskia’s ankle in one hand, lifts her foot, studies the curve of her arch and the plump cushions of her toes. It’s hard to look away, she finds. This might be the most beautiful foot she’s ever seen.
Saskia reaches down, runs her fingers through Kinsey’s short hair. “What’s the verdict? Am I good, or am I perfect?”
Kinsey looks up. Saskia is staring down at her with that same knowing smirk from before, that look that saysI know what you’re thinking. But she can’t know what Kinsey is thinking, because in that moment, Kinsey can’t seem to form a single thought. She’s never considered that Saskia is beautiful before, except maybe in the abstract, the way she generally appreciates the loveliness of a bird or a rare fossil. But now, on her knees, on top of her folded-up sweatshirt in the middle of the lab, she’s finally seeing clearly.
“Perfect,” Kinsey whispers.
Saskia grins again, wide enough to show off her flawless molars. She helps Kinsey to her feet. “My turn,” she says. “Close your eyes.”
“Wait, why—”
“So you can’t intimidate me. I won’t have you taking advantage of me the way you did with Domino,” she teases. “Go on. Close them.”
Kinsey obeys. She’s facing Weatherman, and the darkness behind her eyelids flickers red from the light of the display. She can feel her heartbeat hammering hard in her chest. She jumps at the touch of Saskia’s hands on her shoulders.
“So nervous,” Saskia purrs. “Areyouthe monster?”
