The hoverboard settled beside her, and Tally found herself staring into a thoroughly ugly face: the forehead too high, the smile crooked, a small scar cutting a white line through one eyebrow. She stared at him, blinking in the gloom of the broken city.
"David?" she said softly.
He stared at her, of course.
Even if she hadn't shouted out her name, David knew her voice. And he had been waiting for Tally, after all, so he must have known from the first cry who was down here. But the way he stared at her, it was as if he were seeing someone else.
"David," she said again. "It's me."
He nodded, still speechless. But it wasn't pretty-awe that had caught his tongue — that much Tally realized. His gaze seemed to be searching for something, trying to recognize what the operation had left of her old face, but his expression remained unsure…and a bit sad.
David was uglier than she remembered. In Tally's ugly-prince dreams, his imbalanced features had never been so disjointed, his unsurged teeth never so crooked or discolored. His blemishes weren't as bad as Andrew's, of course. He looked no worse than Sussy or Dex, city kids who'd grown up with toothpaste pills and sunblock patches.
But this was David, after all.
Even after her time with the villagers, many of them toothless and scarred, his face sent a shock through her. Not because he was hideous — he wasn't — but because he was simply…unimpressive.
Not an ugly prince. Just ugly.
And the weird thing was, even as she had these thoughts, her long-suppressed memories were finally flooding back. This was David, who had taught her how to make a fire, how to clean and cook fish, how to navigate by the stars. They had worked side by side, traveled together for weeks on end, and Tally had given up her city life to stay with him in the Smoke — she'd wanted to live with him forever.
All those memories had survived the operation, hidden somewhere inside her brain. But her life among the pretties must have changed something even more profound: the way she saw him, as if this wasn't the same David in front of her anymore.
Neither of them said anything for a while.
Finally, he cleared his throat. "We should probably get moving. They sometimes send patrols out around this time of day."
She looked at the ground. "Okay."
"I've got to do this first." He pulled a wandlike device from one pocket and swept it over her. It stayed silent.
"No bugs on me?" she said.
He shrugged. "Can't be too careful. You don't have a board?"
Tally shook her head. "It got damaged in the escape."
"Wow. Takes a lot to break a hoverboard."
"It was a long fall."
He smiled. "Same old Tally. I knew you'd show up, though. Mom said you'd probably…" He didn't finish.
"I'm fine." She looked up at him, unsure of how much to say. "Thanks for waiting."
They rode his board. Tally was taller than David now, so she stood behind him, hands around his waist. She'd abandoned her heavy crash bracelets before her long trek with Andrew Simpson Smith, but her sensor was still clipped to her belly ring, so the board could feel her center of gravity and compensate for the extra weight. Still, they went slowly at first.
The feel of David’s body, the way he leaned into the turns, was so familiar — even the smell of him set her memories spinning. (Tally didn't want to think about how she smelled, but he didn't seem to have noticed.) She was amazed at how much was coming back; her memories of him seemed to have been ready and waiting, and were all flooding in now that he stood next to her. Here on the board, with David turned away from her, Tally's body cried out to hold him tight. She wanted to take back all the stupid, pretty-minded thoughts she'd had at her first glimpse of his face.
But was it just that he was ugly? Everything else had changed as well.
Tally knew she should be asking about the others, especially Zane. But she couldn't bring the name to her lips, couldn't speak at all. Just standing on the board with David was almost too much.
She kept wondering why it had been Croy who'd brought her the cure. In Tally's letter to herself, she had been so certain that David would be the one to rescue her. He was the prince of her dreams, after all.
Was he still angry that she had betrayed the Smoke? Did he blame her for his father's death? The same night she'd confessed everything to David, Tally had gone back to the city to give herself up, to become pretty so she could test the cure. She'd never had a chance to explain how sorry she was. They hadn't even said good-bye to each other.
But if David hated her, why had he been the one waiting in the ruins? Not Croy, not Zane — David. Her head was spinning, almost like being pretty-minded again, but without the happy part.
"It's not far," David said. "Maybe three hours, traveling tandem like this."
She didn't answer.
"I didn't think to bring another board. Should have known you wouldn't have one, since it took you so long to get here."
"I'm sorry."
"No big deal. We just have to fly a little slower."
"No. I'm sorry. For what I did." She fell silent. The words had exhausted her.
He let the board coast to a stop between two towering husks of metal and concrete, and they stood there for a long moment, David still facing away. She rested one cheek on his shoulder, her eyes beginning to burn.
Finally, he said, "I thought I would know what to say. Once I saw you."
"Forgot about the new face, didn't you?"
"I didn't forget, exactly. But I didn't think it would be so … not you."
"Me either," Tally said, then realized her words wouldn't make sense to him. David's face hadn't changed, after all.
He turned around carefully on the board and touched her brow. Tally tried to look at him, but couldn't. She felt her flash tattoo pulsing under his fingers.
Tally smiled. "Oh, is that freaking you out? It's just a Crim thing, to see who's bubbly."
"Yeah, a tattoo keyed to your heartbeat. They told me. But I hadn't imagined one on you. It's so … weird."
"It's still me inside, though."
"It feels that way, flying together." He turned away, tilting the hoverboard forward and into motion.
Tally held him tighter now, not wanting him to turn around again. This was hard enough without the confused feelings that rose up every time she looked at him. He probably didn't want to look at her city-made face either, with its huge eyes and animated tattoo. One thing at a time. "Just tell me, David, why did Croy bring me the cure instead of you?"
"Things got messed up. I was going to come for you when I got back."
"Got back? From where?"