Page 46 of The HalloQueen

“Of -” I stopped, “Well, I know I’m supposed to feel hot so my body acts like it’s feeling the heat.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“There’s a lot about me that doesn’t make any sense,” I smirked, massaging her calf.

“We should try it sometime. I think there’s a studio in Boston where you can take classes. Maybe after the launch?”

My chest warmed, not wanting to spook her for mentioning us doing anything after this probationary period she had put us in, “Absolutely. Whatever you’d like.”

She popped another piece of cheese into her mouth, “I’m going to go on a mission to find all the stuff you haven’t done.”

“Why is that?”

She shrugged, “It would be fun to experience stuff together for the first time. It’s not going to be any fun if you’re bored with everything.”

“I don’t think I could be bored doing anything with you, Annabel.”

She scoffed loudly, taking her foot from my lap and sitting up to sit cross-legged, “Oh come on, you’re 400 years old. I’m 29 - that’s quite the experience gap. I can’t imagine you’ll enjoy everything I suggest we do. You’ve probably done everything before.”

“But I don't think that's mutually exclusive to the fact that I’m immortal and you’re not. The world has changed a lot in my life. There’s always something new to try. You can visit the same mountain range twice and it isn’t the same.”

“Ugh, you’re trying to be deep when I’m suggesting making you go on a hayride and take awful pictures with Santa at the mall. Wait, can you be photographed?”

“Yes, I can be photographed. I just prefer not to be,” I answered.

“Why?”

“Call it a paper trail. It would look suspicious to have photos spanning twenty years and I don’t look different in any of them.”

“Can you change your appearance at all? Like does your hair grow and stuff?”

“To a point. I am cursed with good looks -” I grin at the groan she releases as she rolls her eyes, “like I can’t grow my beard or hair past a certain point or gain or lose weight.”

“Can you get hurt?”

“Oui,” I answered, remembering the time Yusuf broke his leg when we were on the run and we couldn’t take him to the hospital. After all, heart monitors are a little concerning to nurses when you don’t have a pulse. It was a painful night for all of us as we waited for the physician to come, who then had to rebreak his leg to set it since it had already begun to heal wrong.

“What’s your favorite place you’ve been?” She was so full of questions, I loved talking to someone who didn’t have the answers to everything - it was fresh and new.

“The Redwoods. Those trees are incredible.”

She thought about it, “Trees? You’ve been alive for over 400 years and your favorite place on earth is somewhere with really tall trees?”

“Have you ever seen them?”

“No,” she answered instantly, “I’m not…outdoorsy.”

“Then don’t question me. They’re incredible, and some are easily accessible by car for the indoorsy.” I grasped the flesh of her thigh, squeezing it lightly. “Do you want to travel?”

“Yeah, I mean who doesn’t?” She grabbed another piece of cheese and popped it in her mouth, “but I need to be here for my moms. They are having a harder time each winter but refuse to leave Quaker's Wharf. I offered to move them to Chicago to be with me and they flat out refused. They’ve been here longer than I’ve been alive and I think they’re just set in their ways, but they’re almost 70 and getting forgetful.”

“That must be hard to see.”

“Yeah, they were older when they had me anyway and I didn’t have a Dad - they’re both very…. secretarial?” she laughed, “They weren’t ‘fun’ moms, I wasn’t their kid, I was a member of the family, so I was the child who spent my time reading and learning to crochet and brew tea. They didn’t stop living their lives so I got to see some pretty cool shit, but I definitely wasn’t running for student council or playing pee-wee soccer on the weekends. I think it’s easier watching them age knowing they’ve always been my old tea-drinking buddies rather than like…seeing someone who ran marathons suddenly be unable to walk. It’s not quite a jarring change to come home and see Mama under a blanket reading a book when that’s how she spent most of my childhood. She just doesn’t always remember to turn the page now.”

“So you’re here to turn their pages?”

She gave me a soft smile, sweeping her hair from her face, “they said I needed to come home to learn about the family before it was too late. I’ve been here for several months and so far have made no progress on that front so who knows what they actually need from me.”

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