Page 37 of Wishing Upon a Monster
But I should have known my luck, as always, wasn't quite good enough. I barreled around the corner, right into Kenny.
I stiffened, backing away, not looking for a confrontation. I assumed that he must have finished his mandatory sexual harassment training if he was back.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, walking around him cautiously and continuing at a much slower pace to the locker rooms.
Surprisingly, he didn’t stop me. No comments, nothing. I opened the locker room door and saw his back as he turned around the corner.
Maybe this was the last I’d have to deal with Kenny, barring emergency situations.
“Rorie!” a chorus of voices greeted me: Rocio, Cece, Isla, Selene, and Vickie.
This is not what I meant when I said I wanted to avoid Vickie in the lobby!
“Hey ladies!” I said cheerfully, opening my locker. The mirror I had hung on the door showed smudged lipstick, wild hair, and swollen lips.
“So, the Caesar Salad wasthatgood?” Vickie asked, giggling.
“Yeah, it was.” I agreed, running a brush through my hair and pulling it back into a tiny ponytail. “That being said, you meddlers,” I scolded, peering around my locker’s door at my friends old and new, noting they looked none too sheepish, “Thank you for helping to train my husband.”
“Oh, he’s yourhusbandnow, is he?” Rocio baited, her eyebrows waggling dramatically and pulling on her purple scales in a comical way.
“Theoretically, we’ve been married for a little over a month,” I quipped, using the makeup wipes to take off my lipstick and apply some Chapstick.
“So, if I were to say my abuela knew of a way to break your bond...?” Selene questioned, the silence after her sentence loud.
My heart hurt, and I rubbed my chest where the pain flared, shaking my head. “I don’t need it.”
And I didn’t. Maybe I was half in love with a monster god who granted wishes and gave new meaning to TDH, and it was crazy after a month. Is this what the romance novels call ‘insta love’? I didn’t really know, but––
“––I don't see the need to break something that doesn't need to be broken,” I said, feeling the truth of that declaration to my bones.
“That’s good, because what Abuela said sounded pretty impossible to do. How do you save a god’s life?” She mumbled, sounding, not for the first time, exasperated with her abuela’s advice.
“Oh, that makes sense, though,” Cece said, her snakes hanging in lazy coils down to her shoulders. “A life for a life. She was saved, so if she saves him, then they’d be even. Good thing y’all like each other, because you’re a badass, Rorie, but not goddess level.”
“Yes, the mantle of responsibility is too great for you mortals,” Rocio said sagely.
We all busted out, our laughter ringing throughout the locker room.
16
Aurora
“Iwill not be able to get this shit out for a week,” I mumbled, raking my hands through my hair and watching as pixie dust fell from it. I felt like a craft project gone wrong; the rest of the night shift and I were covered in copious amounts of shimmering, multicolored dust.
“But think of how pretty it will look on your man’s skin!” Vickie cooed, floating around us as we clambered to the locker rooms.
We could hear CJ cussing colorfully from behind the closed door of the men’s locker room. He’d come back with coated fur, looking like he had run a glittery fun run.
“Aren’t the colors supposed to mean different things?” Vickie asked, floating through the door to the locker room.
Rocio pushed the door open for us, holding it until we all passed.
“Yeah, certain groups believe each of the colors can enhance different things, like fertility, virility, regulate moods...” I explained, slipping my top off and tossing it straight into the hamper.
I sucked my teeth as I looked down at all the pixie dust that managed to get under my clothes. I whipped off my sports bra too, throwing it in the trash.
“I don't even blame you,” Isla said, shimmying out of her suit. “This shit is in between my fucking scales, and unlike lamia, we don't shed. I need a fucking boar bristle brush.”
