Chapter 7: Blue Tape

On day ten, Lorne came home with a box and put it on the mattress between us.

I had answered Jessamine's message with a thumbs-up and nothing else.

She had sent four question marks since, and I had not told her term one.

I was not going to make it trend.

"Open it," he said.

I opened it.

It was a headset, brand new, in white foam. The glass had no cracks and the strap had no tape.

It was the model Gus had been asking the board for since spring.

"I can't take that," I said.

"It's not a gift. It's equipment. Your headset has a crack in the left lens that makes you see the loot sixty centimeters off to one side."

"I know where the loot is."

"You grabbed me."

"You were standing in the loot."

"The headset put it at my belt."

"The headset and I have an understanding."

He put his hand on the new one.

"You will take it," he said, "because I will not sit through another fire."

I took the new headset out of the foam.

It was light. It smelled like plastic.

I held it for exactly as long as it took to put it on the windowsill next to the old one.

Then I picked up the taped one and put it on.

"Roxie."

"I'll use the new one for the stream," I said. "I keep the old one. It's bound."

"It is a headset."

"It has a history."

Lorne looked at the ceiling.

"Give it here," he said.

"What?"

"Your headset. The tape's lifting at the corner."

I took it off and handed it over, and he sat on the edge of the mattress with a roll of blue painter's tape from his coat pocket.

I stared at him.

"Why do you have tape?"

"I bought it this afternoon," he said, "in case."

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