Chaos Theory by Penelope Fletcher Page B

parents because it would be a serious breach of trust. She’d
covered for him after his countless shenanigans, and she wasn’t
even doing anything wrong.
    The doorbell chimed and the fluorescents bracketing the door
turned green as the BodyScan signalled a friendly presence. People
who wore suppressants to conceal weaponry turned the scan result
orange, and had Blue displayed characteristics considered
threatening the colour would have flashed red.
    Still fussing over her reflection, she glanced at Max. “Green.
See, he has no immediate plans to hurt me. Would you get the
door?”
    “ Do I look like a FetchMe?”
    Ignoring him, she smiled brightly in the mirror. Smoothing a
hand over her neat ponytail, Kali turned her head side to side to
check her profile and make sure her hair was even. The end bobbed
at the middle of her back jauntily. She vainly brushed strands from
her side-swept fringe that covered one of her hazel eyes, and
flattered her face. The baby hairs on her hairline looked
airbrushed onto her skin they were so fine. She was thanking her
stars she’d worked on the settings of her make up box the night
before. The natural cosmetics applied looked subtly provocative.
Her coffee-coloured skin looked dewy, and her cheeks pleasantly
flushed. Lightly coated in black mascara, her upper lashes looked
lush, and her lips dusky pink.
    Most women had the cosmetic pigments tattooed directly into
their epidermis, but Kali liked to wake up, look in the mirror, and
see her natural face staring back.
    Confidence securely in place, she skipped to the door, but
changed that overly excited bounce midstride to a slow, hip-rolling
walk.
    “ Stars,” Max muttered. “This should be interesting.”
    Howl sniffed the door. He scratched at it, and she shooed him
away. Creighton would blow bosons if he spotted claw
marks.
    Okay, she was nervous, and a little sweaty. Her heart pounded.
Kali felt the skin over her pulse jumping at the side of her
throat. This was never a fun moment. Blue didn’t seem to have
picked up on any of her smaller tics when they were at the shooting
range, but he was about to see a pretty embarrassing one. The
butterflies in her stomach were making her ill they flapped so
hard.
    He’d either accept her repetitive behaviour as cute, or see it
as demented and rush off babbling some lame excuse.
    Excited, she opened the door and beamed. He looked better than
Kali remembered. All black leathers made his white hair that much
more angelic. His full-face helmet was tucked under his arm, and a
shell of dark tissue paper rested by his thigh. His FloBi was
parked on the curb, dangerous looking, and she freaked inwardly at
the thought of having to actually get on the thing.
    Blue hesitated on the stoop. When he shifted his weight to
step forward, Kali shut the door in his face.
    Humiliated, she opened the door, this time stepping aside, her
cheeks red from blood not cosmetics. “Won’t you come
in?”
    Striding past the threshold, Blue glanced at her
questioningly, but let it go.
    Closing the door twice more, Kali breathed a sigh of relief
when she didn’t feel any anxiety. She’d held the door open longer
than she usually would have been able to without having a
full-scale meltdown.
    Blue spun and thrust out an arm. A fat bunch of brightly
coloured wild flowers was held in his fist wrapped in a neatly
coiled sheathe of black paper. “You’re lovely.” His gaze roamed her
body appreciatively before focusing on her face as he offered this
quietly sincere compliment.
    Blooms were incredibly expensive, and bought at memorable
occasions. Kali’s family unit had them in the habitat because
Rikard particularly loved them. She was stunned. Nibbling her lip,
Kali calculated how much credit he must have blown to get these.
They were just perfect. She couldn’t see any hereditary flaws or
signs of genetic crossbreeding at all on the waxy pink
petals.
    Ducking her head shyly, she accepted them. He brushed his
fingers