Page 47 of Invasion of Sorority Z

Sesame: East Indian annual erect herb; source of sesame seed or beniseed and sesame oil.

Stevie

I can’t believe I’m saying goodbye. Or rather, goodbye for now. But I am, and I’m not even a hint upset about it. I’ve loved being with these girls, and I consider them to be my family, but I’m almost certain that they’ll warm up to our protectors as much as I have. Soon enough, they’ll be chartering a ship to Aprix, and I’ll see them again.

Marrec thankfully agrees with me—he told me as much when I expressed my thoughts on the matter. And just to add to my comfort, he assured me that he would take me back to visit if anyone stayed behind. I’m not sure why the heck any of my friends would do such a thing, but the information made me feel all sorts of content either way.

Our little group would be a sight to see from afar, I’m sure. Five human women, and five multi-colored alien giants surrounding a fire, sharing wine and some laughs.

“This is putrid,” Drak reports, distaste written all over his face as he chokes down his first sip of wine. He’s been the only Aprixian to attempt a drink so far. Apparently, it doesnotsmell appealing to them. “Hu-nims enjoy this poison?” His question isn’t for the group of us, it’s only directed to Anna.

It’s obvious that he gravitates toward her. Nearly every time I see one, the other isn’t far. I’m not sure if he has a giant crush on her, or if he thinks that they’re hunting buddies. Either way, I’ve never seen Anna put up with someone pestering her for so long, and he seems to get away with it with ease. It’s sort of adorable to watch. He’s like a bloodthirsty golden retriever and she’s the grumpy black cat that he follows around, occasionally getting clawed at but not minding the violence one bit.

She gives him a dry look, lifting her glass. Sucking down a huge mouthful of the very same wine, she offers a nonchalant shrug. “Guess you’re just not strong enough to handle the taste.”

Drak looks as if he’s been slapped with the gravest of insults. His nostrils flare in upset, and he pours the remainder of the red liquid down his throat. He winces at the taste, but swallows regardless. “Who is stronger than I?” The question is a boasting challenge. His arms spread wide as if he’s just won the mightiest of battles. “I can endure your appalling beverage in my slumber, mean one. It is offensive and smells rancid, but it is weak in my presence.”

“Congrats,” she drawls, pretending not to be amused.

“I accept your recognition of my glory.”

“I wasn’t—” Anna huffs, cutting herself off. “Never mind.”

“I do not mind,” he agrees.

She huffs again, but the rest of us laugh.

“Sorry if this smells,” I tell Marrec, offering a shy smile. “It’s an acquired taste for humans too. A lot of people don’t like it, and some people who drink it don’t even really enjoy it. Just its desired effects, you know?”

“I am unbothered,” he reports, leaning down from his seat to sniff my hair. “It cannot overpower the smell of my mate. I can sense it in the air and ignore it easily.”

“Lucky you,” Al’rik mutters dryly. It’s honestly two more words than I’ve heard him say in days. The male is as quiet as quiet gets. His twin brother, L’ore, isn’t much of a talker either.

Megan shoots to her feet and thrusts her half-full glass at Cayte who takes it with a confused look. Megan doesn’t say a word to her, only turns to Al’rik who looks positively miserable poking the fire with a long metal stick.

“Al’rik,” she says, shocking the hell out of him if his face is any indicator. “Will you take a walk with me?”

The shy alien looks absolutely perplexed, and he turns to his fellow aliens as if he’s trying to gauge whether or not he’s dreaming. “A walk?”

“Yep,” she chirps, giving him a big smile. “I’ve had enough of the festivities and want to stretch my legs. Escort me?”

As flirty as my good friend is, she’s also a whole sweetheart. She does things just to be kind and help people out all of the time. She’s the first person to offer comfort when she senses someone needs it, and the last person to judge anyone for their needs. So while Al’rik is just as handsome as the rest of the Aprixian surrounding us—save for Marrec who is obviously the most handsome—I’m not sure whether she is flirting with him or offering him an escape from the wine smell that seems to be bothering him so badly.

“I am not sure…” he starts to say, breathless like he can’t make the words form.

“Sure he is,” Drak disagrees, standing up to take the fire stick from him. “He will guard you fiercely on your walk, Meg-ham.”

Megan ignores the blatant mispronunciation of her name and lights up like Christmas. “Perfect.” She slides up to his side and intertwines his fingers with hers. “You have to hold my hand, okay? I’m scared of the dark and I’ll scream if you let go.”

Al’rik’s eyes shoot down to the connection, and he stares at her hand like he doesn’t understand how it’s touching him. She starts walking away with him, forcing his feet to follow before he can object.

“Did you know that all the stars we can see in the sky are dead?” I hear her asking him as she pulls him further away. “It’s a graveyard up there. Such a pretty graveyard, don’t you think?”

I have to ask Marrec if they have some kind of email system between their ships, because Ineedto know how that walk goes.

“Are you ready, my blossom?”

“Been ready, big guy.”

---