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“I hate these stupid limbs!” Pin said as she tripped over her legs for the fourth time that night. Coiny’s hand shot out to steady her, which made her even angrier, frustrated that he was helping her and, worse, that she’d be a lost cause without him.
“You just got them back today,” he reminded. “Yoyle City wasn’t built in a day.”
“They’re my legs, Coiny, not a city.”
He sighed and hoisted her along with the rest of the contestants. They were all smiling, laughing, chatting, in good spirits now that BFDIA had come to an end. Everyone was cruising easy—except Pin.
When she stumbled again, she dropped her weight onto Coiny. “How is she so happy?” she muttered, pointing in the direction of Needle, who was talking to Book. “She lost.”
“She played a good game,” he said. “Besides, it’s not like Book got the real Dream Island. She got a square foot of… nothing.”
“Hey!” Pin scowled. “My Dream Island is amazing!”
“Our Dream Island,” Coiny corrected. “And I didn’t say it wasn’t. But it’s lame compared to the original.”
“It would be nice to have the real Dream Island right now,” she said. “Then we’d have a place to live.”
“We have a place—Yoyle City!”
“Lame.”
After the finale, the contestants started the search for suitable sleeping quarters. Pin thought it wouldn’t take long—they were in a giant city, after all—but apparently she was wrong, because now the sun had sunk behind the horizon, crickets were humming loudly in the bushes, and they weren’t any closer to a stopping point.
“Why can't we stop here?” she whined. “We can sleep in the grass.”
Golf Ball sidled up to her. “We can stop here if you’d like to wake up with your limbs bent out of shape tomorrow morning.”
“Isn’t walking hurting them more?”
“They have to regain their strength one way or another.”
“Look on the bright side, Pin,” Coiny butt in. “Once we find a place, we won’t have to look for another one. You’ve just gotta tough it out for a little longer and then you can rest.”
Her shoulders tensed. “I don’t need a pep talk.”
“It’s not a pep talk.”
“If I still had my mech suit, I could find a place in seconds.”
“But you don’t. You asked GB to get you your limbs back.”
“Yeah, but this”—she tried to wiggle her fingers and they twitched stiffly—“sucks. I’m so weak! How can I do anything like this?”
Pin felt Coiny’s arm snake around her torso, relieving some of the weight on her legs.
“Don’t you remember when you first got the mech suit?” he asked. “You were attached to a cord. You couldn’t go farther than like, twenty feet. I had to buy extension cables.”
“But I got the battery pack.”
“That’s my point. You just need to get your strength back. I’ve worn the wheels before too, and I can tell you these puppies are way better.” Coiny skipped in front of her and jumped to show off his superior abilities. Pin staggered without him. It angered her more. What good was it to go back to normal if her normal was this weak?
He returned to her side. “You’re still not convinced.”
She looked away with a furrow. “I know I’ll get used to them. I just feel so… normal.”
“Isn’t that what you wanted? To be yourself again?”
Pencil and the other FreeSmarters were a few leagues in front of them. Pin watched Pencil give Book an enthusiastic high five, the clap of skin resounding. Book groaned and shook out her hand.
“Well,” she said, arms throbbing, “I can’t wreak havoc like this! It was so easy with the mech suit.”
“Maybe you don’t need to wreak havoc for a little while,” Coiny proposed, and Pin snorted.
“Don’t be stupid.”
“I’m serious! Now that the game’s over, let’s have a good time. Swing with Needle. Explore the city.”
“Why are you being so nice? Everyone here sucks.”
“Hey, just ‘cause we fought each other while we were competing doesn’t mean we can’t be friends after!”
She pursed her lips. To her, yeah, it kind of meant that. What was just the game to Coiny was a whole lot more to Pin.
“Okay, maybe not,” he said, overcorrecting. “I guess you don’t hafta make friends with everyone else. But you can at least hang with Needle. And me. Put the wreaking havoc on the backburner.”
“Fine,” Pin said, breezing over the foreign emotions welling up. “I can’t wreak havoc like this anyway.”
Coiny grabbed her when she tripped again. “Good idea.”
“But it would be nice to feel strong again.”
He gave her a look. “Well, I have an idea.”
“What?”
“Bring it in, Pin,” Coiny said, then stopped in the middle of the road and pulled her into a tight hug.
Pin squeaked. He squeezed the breath out of her, arms around her waist and hands on her back, mouth against her side. It was suffocating. Her first instinct was to struggle, but this was Coiny, she remembered. He was so close that her nose flooded with the smell of pennies.
“Coiny,” she eked out.
“Sorry!” He pulled back but didn’t totally unwrap his embrace. “Too much?”
“I… wait.” Pin swung her legs. “I feel good, actually.”
“Really?” He stepped back. “So it worked?”
She did a little twirl, waving her arms, wiggling her toes. “How did you do that?”
“Don’t you remember? Tennis Ball said hugs are the easiest way to rehabilitate new limbs.”
“He was serious?”
“I guess so.”
Pin laughed. “This is awesome!” She gripped Coiny’s hand and pulled him along, a new pep in her step. It was the first time since GB dunked her into that tank that she’d felt good—really good, not hurdling past the ache. The soreness had faded. Her muscles flexed freely and easily.
“I thought you said you didn’t wanna feel normal,” he said.
“Shush,” she said, not bothering to argue. Normal felt better than she remembered. And if all she had to do to feel like this was hug Coiny—well, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. In fact, it felt pretty good. Like something she could get used to.
Pin’s eyes cracked open the next morning on a dirty mattress in an abandoned hotel, and so did all her bones when she tried to bring her hand up to rub her face.
“OMPF,” she swore, pain resounding down her arm. “What the—?”
She tried to flex her arm again and winced. Not even her fingertips moved.
“No.” Still a little groggy, she moved to sit up on the bed. Her legs didn’t budge, either. Pain and panic settled in.
There was no way she could be paralyzed, right—after all, she could still feel, just only pain—and Golf Ball wouldn’t do that to her. She’s an expert, Pin told herself. Doubt crept in. Not an expert in this. Pin was her test subject in this. Trial and error didn’t include error for nothing.
Coiny. The word flashed through her mind in neon letters. He was there, in the room. He could help her.
With what strength she had, Pin squirmed sideways to face him. She rolled too far and squished her cheek against the musty mattress, but still, there he was, face-down on the bed beside hers. Asleep, but alive, present.
“Coiny,” Pin hissed. She didn’t bother playing nice. “Coiny! Wake up!”
Coiny grumbled into his pillow. “Hwuh?”
“Get up!”
“Pin?” The fabric smothered his voice. He pushed himself up. “‘S that you?”
“Yes! I can’t move!”
He turned. “What—oh jeez, Pin.”
Her icy posture must’ve been enough to shake him awake, because he jumped off his bed and rushed over to her, grabbing her arm. “What’s going on?”
“I told you, I can’t move,” she said. “My limbs won’t—they won’t—”
She tried to flex them again and cried out with pain. Heat rose in her chest; frustration from her weakness, the growing warmth from the sunlight in the broken window above her, the sting of pain. It was too much.
“I’ll get GB,” he rushed out. “Gimme two minutes.”
“Wait,” Pin said. “Stay here.”
“Pin, you need help.”
She swallowed. Time to put away her pride. Quietly, she said, “I’m scared.”
“You’re—oh.” His gaze softened. “Okay. I’ll stay.”
Pin gave a harsh nod and shut her eyes. The way he was looking at her, sad like a puppy, was unbearable, but it was better than being alone.
“Want me to sit with you?” Coiny asked, testing his luck.
The answer came easy. “Yes.”
He hopped onto the mattress. His metal body was cold, and it felt good on her skin, a balm for the burning ache.
“Did you sleep well besides… this?” he asked.
Pin sighed. It took a second to reply. “I guess. I was tired.”
“Tell me about it. Or, I guess I should be telling you about it. You got new limbs and BFDIA ended.”
“It’s not that crazy.”
“I guess when you think about what we’ve been through already…” He whistled. “But it’s still a lot. You should be taking it easy.”
“I’ll be taking it really easy if I can’t ever move again,” she grumbled.
“Don’t talk like that. GB’s across the hall.” They’d chosen rooms close to each other for a reason. “It’s gonna be fine.”
The only thing that felt fine right now was the chill of his body on hers, the soft pressure of his limbs. Pin wanted them to be closer. She sniffed. What was it Tennis Ball said about hugs?
“Coiny,” she said.
“Yeah?”
“When you hugged me last night, it really helped.”
“That’s good.”
Pin looked up at him. “Can you…”
“Can I what?”
There was a smirk on his face.
“You know what I want,” she huffed.
That smirk became a thousand-watt smile. “I wanna hear you say it.”
“Nevermind.”
Coiny pretended to consider her petulance. He paused. Then he wrapped his arms around her.
Relief flooded Pin’s body so fast it was almost unreal. She sagged into the mattress, grateful when Coiny didn’t flinch as she pressed herself closer to him, practically side-by-side now. Their legs intertwined and a cold spell rippled over her skin. In a weird way, it felt like she was thawing out.
Pin must have made some noise of relief because Coiny, with a grin in his voice, said, “Good, huh?”
She was too comfortable to retort. “I don’t know why it works, but it does.”
“Magic.”
“Who cares.”
“Yeah.” He snuggled closer. Sunlight from the bare window glinted on his metal body. Some dust had collected on his side. Pin brushed it off with an unsteady hand.
“Thank mint you’re not paralyzed,” Coiny said.
“I thought I might be.”
“No way! GB would’ve fixed you up if this didn’t work.”
Pin wouldn’t say it, but she was glad they got this moment to themselves. This close, Coiny’s breath fanned across her face soothingly. His eyes seemed softer. She even noticed a little chip on his edge.
“This is good,” he said. He looked from one eye to the other and then at her lips, where his gaze seemed to linger.
In his arms, Pin felt younger, like she’d regressed to a time where BFDIA never happened and they’d been this way forever. Coiny wet his lips in a motion that was impossible to look away from. He was forgiving and persistent in the worst ways, and the tug in her chest made her want to put her guard up like she had all those times before, but he stroked over her arm like he knew she was prepared to tense up, so she let herself relax. She thought it would feel bad to give in, but it didn’t. It was just foreign.
“You’re quiet,” Coiny said.
“It feels good,” Pin said honestly.
“Well, I like this new color on you.”
“Don’t push it.”
“Alright.”
He shirked back and she regretted her words, because it interfered with her new desire to lean in and put their mouths together. It was a weird, quickly-growing feeling; somehow the most intimate thing they could do, which seemed impossible. Not when he’d carried her around like an amulet for months, when he’d been to Hell and back for her. How was it that the thought of him not reciprocating a kiss crushed her more than the spaceship he’d hit her with?
New color, new limbs, new chapter, Pin thought. She’d been told to put wreaking havoc on the backburner. The mech suit could do a lot, but it couldn’t put two hands on Coiny’s sides and pull him in for a quick, messy peck.
“Pin.” Coiny jerked away. A hand flew to his lips. “That was—?”
“Weird,” she said shakily.
He laughed like it was some joke. “D-did you think that would help make you stronger?”
“No.” His laugh petered off. “I just thought… you were staring at me.”
“I was? I—I mean, probably. Wow, I’m fumbling this.”
Pin tensed up. “Whatever, I—”
“I liked it!” Coiny blurted. “I just wasn’t, uh, expecting it.”
Silence.
“Did you like it?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I might have to try again.”
The next laugh was breathless. “Yeah, you’re right. Hey, I think I feel stronger too.”
“Shut up,” Pin said. She leaned in so their lips brushed. Then, shyly, “Don’t tell me if I suck.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Coiny said, “but, uh, I wouldn’t know. That was kinda my first kiss. Well. First peck?”
An embarrassing weight lifted from her chest. “It was my first too.”
“‘Kay, it was barely a first,” he said. “So let’s make it—”
“—a real first,” she finished. Their lips met.
The second time around was better. More natural, or as natural as it could be with the weird position and Pin’s stiffness and their general inexperience. Kissing didn’t do anything for her mobility, but it didn’t matter, not when Coiny smiling stupidly into her mouth made her stomach swoop with a force usually reserved for frustration and fear.
His hands played tentatively over her new arms and it sucked her back to reality and the fact that they were macking on a dusty mattress in an abandoned hotel and BFDIA hadn’t ended more than 24 hours ago. Pin pulled back slower this time, eyes open so she didn’t miss the bereft face he pulled.
“You definitely don’t suck,” Coiny said.
Pin swallowed. “I guess you don’t either.”
“Feel like you could move a mountain now?”
Feel like we need to talk about this, she thought, but what came out was, “feel like I want to do it again.”
He broke into a grin. “I feel like I agree.”
It was easy to forget reality when all Pin had to focus on was how her mouth was moving against Coiny’s, how her newly-minted fingers traced his edges. He pushed closer a little, instinctively deepening the kiss, when she accidentally bit down on his lip. He sucked in a breath.
“OMPF,” she gasped. “Did I—”
“It’s nothing,” he said, thumb tracing the nick left behind. “Learning curve. Doesn’t even hurt.”
Pin chuckled disbelievingly. “Right. Yoyle City wasn’t built in a day.”
“Exactly.” Coiny kissed her again like it really didn’t matter. Pin’s adaption to her own muscles meant she didn’t miss the stutter of his fingers when she pressed over the mark, but she didn’t say anything. Even objects who'd had limbs their whole lives couldn’t control them sometimes.