Page 9 of The Danger Kiss

It was an alien word.

Friends.

Rukko had his mysterious associates, whom he sometimes alludes to in conversation but whose names he never mentions.

Mirosh had his inflatable and porcelain dolls, most of them life-size. His companions. And, perhaps, lovers.

Timur had his puppets, whose hair and clothes were from real people, long since dead. If Father kept body parts as trophies, he gave the hair and clothing to my youngest brother.

I had my plants, which behaved more like fauna rather than flora. Plants upon which I could impose my will, with a single snap of my fingers or a whistle or a sole scratching motion of my nail down a random thorn.

None of us had real friends, at least not the kind I could recall when I lived in Asphalt City all those years ago.

I couldn't help but wonder...if you were with friends, would things be any easier, any less painful?

Had I had friends, would I have hurt the same way when I learned the truth about myself and my Manifestation? Would I have been any less afraid of the world?

But I am a Zola. We don't need friends.

I don't need to know the answers to my questions, either, because it would only lead to pain. I could not charge for pain, hence it was unnecessary, only a cumbersome side effect to being too buried in one’s thoughts.

The phone on my worktable, mint-colored and cordless, suddenly rang, breaking through the stillness of my greenhouse and my thoughts.

I stared at the phone, dimly listening to it ring again. It was on the third ring that I finally picked it up.

"Hello."

"Good evening, Miss Blanca." It was the sterile, echoing voice of Gudo, our family butler.

Evening? Already? It was only early afternoon when Rukko stopped by. Had the time passed so quickly since he left?

I glanced outside. All things I could see through the fortified glass were in shades of violet and dark blue.

"Good evening, Gudo."

"I meant not to interrupt you in any way, my lady, but Masters Tenno and Rubba request your presence for dinner at eight tonight. It will be at the main hall."

"I see." It was all I could do to conceal the surprise in my voice. I wonder who else will be there, aside from the three of us.

As if hearing my unspoken question, Gudo supplied, "You will be joined by Master Rukko, of course.”

"I see," I repeated like an idiot. Being too detached from the rest of civilization had its consequences, among them having questionable conversational skills and, by extension, basic social graces.

"I will be there at seven-thirty to escort you to the mansion, Miss Blanca."

I glanced at the digital clock on my worktable. Ten minutes past six. "There's no need for that. I can do very well on my own."

"I certainly meant no disrespect, my lady, as I intend to bring a means of transport. What I have in mind is your convenience."

"I'm always sure of that, Gudo, but like I said there's no need for you or anyone to come over. Tell them I'll be there."

"Very good, my lady. Thank you."

I replaced the phone and plopped down on my chair. I could feel the hypersensitive foam moss, the chair's stuffing, rearranging itself to conform to the tense curves of my back.

I leaned back, raising my hands to smooth the unruly strands of hair away from my face. I stared up at the ceiling, stretching both my arms to relieve them of tension.

Why did they want me to come over? The last time I was in the mansion had been to attend the family dinner that Mother called right before Rukko left for his last mission. She had been quite disappointed, to say the very least, that our elder brother refused to bend to her whims anymore. It was the first time Rukko had refused her request; he had not wanted to bring Timur along to his mission.

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