Page 13 of In the Light of the Moon

“Tell me something about her,” Juno suggested, and I wracked my brain to explain. They would just worry if I told them of how she found me, so that was out. And all of their romantic and sexual dalliances sounded easy and plentiful. It made me feel woefully inept. Furthering the feeling that I was always tuned to some channel that wasn’t quite on the same frequency of everyone else.

But a physical description I could do. I started by describing the basics. Her approximate height, her skin tone, how her hair looked. Then her scent, down to the specific notes that they wouldn’t truly be able to know unless they were in front of her. How even with her exasperation, I could feel her inclination toward kindness. How I ached to scent her.

I felt another flush creep up my cheeks. Or perhaps it’d never left. When I snuck a glance at my friend, they were just continuing to smile. “I’m happy for you, my friend. I know you’ve longed for a partner.”

I scratched the back of my head. “I didn’t say anything about a partner.” No, I’d just been thinking of another ridiculous word. “But thanks.”

Juno gave a tinkling laugh, “Do you at least have the female’s name?” Something like pride puffed my chest, and I let her name slip through my lips. It was delightful and more intoxicating than any alcohol could ever be.

But a sharp shift of the air had my face twisting in confusion. Juno was looking down at their near-empty bottle as it swung at their side. Comfortable enough with them, I asked them to explain. Why they seemed unhappy for me now.

“Not unhappy,” they rushed, and I tried to catalogue their features, the awkwardness that so rarely wafted from them.

“Is it because…” More heat on my face. While I still had a deep affection for my friend, our sexual encounters had long ago ended. I didn’t think that Juno would have any reaction to something like this, especially since they had never reacted to anyone I’d slept with in the past. They had so many sexual partners that I didn’t even bother keeping track of them all. Not that I’d reserved remembering names much outside of the classroom, anyway.

Juno, though, shifted quickly to confusion at my question, and then I could see when my meaning dawned on them. They laughed, and my shoulders relaxed. “Oh, no! That was years ago, my sweet friend. I should just tell you now that she is a student of mine. And that we shouldn’t discuss anything further about her.”

My chest was a mixture of jealousy and relief. Now that I thought about it, I remembered the third time she spoke withme being after I’d seen Juno exiting a classroom I was entering. I hadn’t yet thought about the fact that they would get to see and possibly talk to Sylvie multiple times a week. While she all but ran each time she saw me.

I stifled the grumble that threatened to escape my throat, but Juno must have detected it all the same. They looked at me, friendly affection radiating like the rays of sunlight above us, “Doesn’t mean I’m not happy for you. I hope it works out.”

I didn’t have anything to say but gave an agreeing grunt and nod. She was invading my thoughts and dreams enough to the point that I would be a fool if I tried not to pursue her. But I’d have to be careful. To use all my sense to not hurt her again or stare with tongue tied.

“And who knows,” Juno shrugged, “maybe you’ll get a mate out of it all.”

CHAPTER SIX

Sylvie

Though I’d quickly skimmed the email, my eyes kept returning to the first line.“We regret to inform you…” and then it was all more of the same polite words to soften the blow of rejection. With a sigh, I dragged the response to my latest short story submission over to the folder marked ‘To Keep Me Humble’ and closed the internet browser.

I hadn’t added an email to the much emptier folder ‘Good News’ in a long while, but I fought down the discouragement that threatened to leave my fingers immobile. I leaned back into the purple cushion of the wicker sofa and propped my bare feet on the matching ottoman. The fan in the sunroom did little to cool me down, but I wore as little clothing as possible since it was either this, or subject myself to the two women chatting in the living room.

Not that I couldn’t still hear them and the TV that seemed like it was blaring. Roz always turned it on when she came over, and for some reason, Granna didn’t mind, even though she barely watched the thing herself.

“Well, from what I’ve heard, there’s been no word at all. And that’s what’s so strange—” I clamped my headphones over my ears to drown out Roz echoing more of what she’d heard since the last time she’d visited with Granna. Not that I was opposed to gossip, myself. If I weren’t determined to get this next story up for submission, I would be sitting in the room with them and absorbing all the tantalizing news and rumors.

But no, instead, I pulled up my latest piece and hunched over to begin another round of edits. My finger twirled the headphone cord as I read over the short story time and time again, finding something to edit, delete, or tweak each round.

Minutes, hours, ticked away, and I refused to admit to myself that I would be done with this already if I hadn’t been so distracted. I’d been writing since I was a teenager, and in recent years, started submitting my work to online magazines. After my first rejection, my father, just having been diagnosed with stage three lung cancer, encouraged me to use it like fuel. To inform my next piece and save the evidence of how far I’d come. Well, once he’d rubbed my back through my sobbing and ordered takeout from our favorite restaurant.

At this point, I had eight magazines propped up on my bookshelves that included my stories. And with those eight acceptance emails, I had more than triple the number of denials. I should have known at this point how to edit efficiently, and yet, this zine’s deadline had been slowly drawing closer, the days ticking by, while I just stared at my laptop screen. Classes were just beginning to ramp up, and though I was also working part-time, I knew that my responsibilities weren’t the reason my writing was stalling out.

It was him. Orion.

Faster, faster, she ran through the darkened wood. All around her, there was only rustling black and the earthbeneath her that was soft and cut at the same time. Her bare feet were certainly bleeding, leavign?—

I sighed, catching the typo and replacing it with the correct spelling. When I tried to resume editing, the scene I was painting taking shape in my mind, a pale face emerged in the darkness. One topped with rolling white curls. And then I was back in the grocery store, staring at him blocking the sight of the peanut butter Granna asked me to grab. It was the closest I’d ever gotten to him. It was also the first time I’d touched him since that night.

His arms were lean but roped with muscle, wiry. His chest pulled at the fabric of his black shirt, and he smelled as if he’d spent the morning sitting in a leather chair at a coffee shop after walking around outside. Why would he want to know my name? What difference did it make?I don’t want his money or… anything else from him.

With a frustrated huff, I jammed the save button just in case and slammed my laptop shut. I hadn’t seen him after that—he must’ve checked out prior to our leaving the store, but I still felt the brush of our arms on my skin.

I looked down to my left forearm, where the graze of his teeth or nails or both was nowhere to be found. Though I’d seen evidence that Granna’s words held influence, her concoctions and touch bending things toward her will, I was embarrassed to admit that I didn’t think the salve I made would workthiswell. But it stood to reason that I’d inherited at least some of her power. And through my studies, I was beginning to realize just how powerful she was.

It was an exciting, yet unsettling thought. Though I’d been taking that tonic for A Worried Mind, I still felt a hell of a lot of worry. Or… something.

The tugging of my bladder that I’d been denying finally caught up with me and gave a far better excuse to procrastinatefurther. So, I stood up and stretched my arms overhead before going inside.

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