Page 39 of Shared By Two Orcs

“It…got out of hand,” says Yamarz.

“So you’re just going to ignore me for the rest of your life because of it?”

“Why are we even talking about this? Don’t you think I hate myself enough already?”

“Then tell me your thoughts on it! That’s what I must know!”

“I don’t know how to feel,” mutters Yamarz. “It was a one time thing. I’m never doing it again.”

That’s it, I’ve had enough.

“Well, what are we going to tell Willo?”

“Yeah, what are you going to tell me?” I call out.

I emerge from my hiding place, coming into their view. Their eyes widen with surprise as they draw themselves up.

“Willo!” says Duma. “I… I…”

“Shut it. I know that I pushed you both, but I thought it was something that we were all interested in. Hiding and arguing like children isn’t going to solve this. Now come with me back to my house.”

“I have work,” replies Yamarz.

“I don’t care,” I snap, getting in his face. “Do you know how fucking hurt I am? The both of you seemed to forget I existed. What the fuck happened between us three?”

Duma and Yamarz look to each other for answers.

“Weren’t you enjoying our time spent together? Don’t you miss hanging out as a group?”

“It’s complicated,” says Duma.

“Damn right it’s complicated… Look, forget about me for a minute. There’s something to be sorted out between you two. I need to find out what’s going on, so both of you haul ass and come with me!”

21

YAMARZ

The journey to Willo’s house is silent and full of tension, nothing at all like the last time all three of us headed to hers. I occasionally cast sidelong glances at Duma along the way, at times catching him looking at me, causing him to glance elsewhere. Willo looks over her shoulder every minute or two, perhaps checking to see that none of us have scurried off.

We come to her door where she fiddles around the lock with her keys. Opening it, she beckons for us to enter. I follow in behind Duma. Once inside, us orcs stand beside one another as we await Willo’s next command.

“Have a seat,” she says, gesturing to the couch. “‘I’ll make some tea.”

I awkwardly motion for Duma to sit down first. The way we’re interacting is exactly like before we became friends. It hurts to act like strangers again. We sit there without exchanging a word. Behind us, there comes the clattering of cupboards and a pouring of water as Willo prepares the tea.

Both Duma and I avoid eye contact with her as she comes over with a tray of steaming mugs. She sets them down in front of us before dragging over a stool, facing Duma and I head on. Once seated, she darts a concerned gaze between us. The tension is killing me.

“I’m upset,” she says after a minute passes. “Both of you have been avoiding seeing each other. There’s no excuses you can give to me, did you really think it would fly over my head? It’s one thing to be sick for a day or two, but it’s way too fucking convenient that neither of you have seen one another for… I’ve lost count, that’s how long it’s been!”

I finally gather up the courage to look her in the eye before she continues.

“Because of all that, you’ve both been avoiding me too, whether it’s intentional or not. Do you know how much that hurts? Yamarz, how many times have I seen you this week?”

“Once,” I mutter.

“That’s right, once! Duma, how about you?”

“We haven’t met up at all.”

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