Page 19 of Inked in Bloom
Cherri pops a macaron in her mouth and nods toward the two empty cushions across from us. “I can’t wait to have a mate. But in the meantime, I’m here for all the fun.”
“Does that mean people—I mean, harbingers—don’t date?”
Cherri shrugs. “Eh, not really. When you know you’ll be getting a mate at some point, it makes it easy to scratch the itch with whoever you like until then. It’s not like there are consequences here. No worries about pregnancy or diseases.” She whoops and lifts a glass to me. “So fuck away, my friend. Fuck away.”
I lift my glass to cheers hers, and we both take a long sip.
How many years did I stress over pregnancy or one-night stands? Held myself back out of fear? My late-night texts to my ex always seemed like the safest option. The easiest, despite the emotional mess they made of things. The lines it blurred. I wasn’t intentionally leading him on, but in hindsight, I understand why he believed we might get back together.
Now that I’ve been gone a few weeks, I wonder if he’s noticed.
There’s an ache that accompanies the idea of an immortalconsequence-freeexistence. I never had children. Wasn’t sure if I ever wanted them, not like so many others are certain of. But now that the possibility’s a petal on the wind, carried off before I considered it…maybe with the right person it would have been wonderful.
I’ll never know.
Cherri’s voice snips my wayward thoughts. “Do you mind?”
“Mind what?”
“If I go talk to Kitt and Tess for a few?” she asks, lowering her voice conspiratorially.
“Sure.” It’ll be good for her to immerse herself before her classes start.
She pushes up onto her knees and stands, holding a hand out to me. “You want to come with?”
“No, you go ahead.” I gesture toward the treats still piled high on my plate. “I’ll work on this until you’re back.”
“Fair enough,” she says, primping her dark-rose bob. “Wish me luck.”
“Good luck.” Though I’m not really sure what she needs it for. With a lift of her chest, she strides off.
I grab a macaron and take a nibble before shoving the rest of it in my mouth.
“Is this seat taken?”
“All yours,” I reply through a mouthful of macaron, crumbs falling onto my shirt when I turn toward the rich voice behind me.
It’s the Transformative Studies professor, Briar. Not sure why he’d want to sit with me but I’m also not complaining. He kneels across from me, plate quivering in his sage-green grasp as he sets it down on the pallet table. We both sit in silence, eating a few minutes, intermittently casting furtive glances at each other.
He clears his throat. “So, Dr. Tanner, how are you today?’
“Monroe,” I say, glancing up at him as I wipe away the remnants of my pistachio macaron. No one else has called me by that honorific here since my arrival. There’s no need to be so formal. “I’m okay. It’s obviously very different here than what I’m used to. But at least everyone seems to be enjoying themselves.”
It’s the only honest thing I can say. Better than admitting I’m barely holding on.
“And are you enjoying yourself?” he asks, and there’s something strained in his voice, like he’s holding his breath. His chin dips to where my skirt is bunched in my fist. I unclench it, smoothing out the material.
“I could be better.”
“You showed up for orientation after only a few weeks here, I’d say that’s better than most.”
“Showing up might be a bit of a stretch,” I say, my attempt at lightening the mood and setting him at ease. “I would have happily hid under the covers, but Cherri didn’t want to go by herself and she’s been a great friend to me since I got here.”
“She would have understood if you weren’t up for it.”
“Probably, but it’s not as if I had something better to do.” I sigh. “I miss my people. Not that I don’t like the people here…” I clarify, not wanting to offend him. I gesture around us. “This is all lovely, but I don’t want any of it. Everyone seems very kind and Florezca is beautiful, like something out of a fairy tale. But this isn’t my home. I want my life back.”
I grab my drink and take a quick sip. “Sorry, I probablyshouldn’t have said all that. I’m not normally an oversharer.” I gnaw at my bottom lip. He came here to be nice and meet his new students and here I am word vomiting all over him. A complete stranger. Leave it to me to choose to unload at the most inappropriate time and make it uncomfortable for everyone.
