[ Rachel is all too prepared to be angry at him. She can't stand that about him, that part of him that so readily steps back from his attachments when they become too heavy to bear. She's ready to get mad, to yell, to tell him off for running and hiding from all of this, but she can't. Because his words sink in a few seconds too soon, and Rachel's chest gets too tight to really get any words out right away.
You think we're ever going home?
This far, she's gotten by just not thinking about the family and friends she's left behind. God knows she's had enough to deal with since she got here. But now, with Marco laying it out all in front of her, she can't ignore the possibility that she'll never go home. What's supposed to happen to her friends, the Animorphs that actually existed, if she's not there? To Jordan and Sara? Who's going to take care of her little sisters when her mom works late and forgets to order dinner?
For the first time, Rachel realizes she's homesick. She can't avoid it -- it comes straight on like a truck barreling into her chest. She can't do this. But she refuses to show Marco any weakness. She wouldn't dare cry in front of him.
So she seethes instead. She gives him a hard look, the hard set of her jaw and her flared nostrils meant to distract from the fact that her face is already getting a little red, that her eyes are already threatening to drop water. She glares at him with all the force of a hurt and angry fourteen-year-old girl. ]
me too. god. ME TOO
You think we're ever going home?
This far, she's gotten by just not thinking about the family and friends she's left behind. God knows she's had enough to deal with since she got here. But now, with Marco laying it out all in front of her, she can't ignore the possibility that she'll never go home. What's supposed to happen to her friends, the Animorphs that actually existed, if she's not there? To Jordan and Sara? Who's going to take care of her little sisters when her mom works late and forgets to order dinner?
For the first time, Rachel realizes she's homesick. She can't avoid it -- it comes straight on like a truck barreling into her chest. She can't do this. But she refuses to show Marco any weakness. She wouldn't dare cry in front of him.
So she seethes instead. She gives him a hard look, the hard set of her jaw and her flared nostrils meant to distract from the fact that her face is already getting a little red, that her eyes are already threatening to drop water. She glares at him with all the force of a hurt and angry fourteen-year-old girl. ]
Get out.