21 - ARACHNE
When my phone dinged with a notification that she was returning to the Capital, I turned the device off, then swiftly changed my number.
Athena was one-hundred-eighty-nine years old. Old enough to know better. I didn’t anticipate her ghosting. Foolish as it felt now, I thought we shared something… real.
Those hours we spent together on the side of Soul Mountain were essentially perfect. She became someone I thought might— No. Don’t touch that subject.
Anyway, I hadn’t realized how painstaking those first few days after opening up would be without hearing from her… How much worse the pain became when the weeks turned into months of nothing.
Not a trace.
The mission was so top secret and hush-hush that Blossom couldn’t even track her down. The general’s best friend, the youngest dragon spawn, also didn’t know where she was. Or for how long she’d be gone.
One takeaway was for certain: I didn’t matter. Athena’s role was her priority. Who couldn’t locate a payphone to drop a quick message? Not even to give proof of life to her so-called best friend? It was red flag behavior.
After the third month, it was easier to pretend she never existed to begin with. I sliced her right out of my thoughts; punishing myself each time she resurfaced.
Abandonment was a sore spot. One rooted so deeply that no amount of therapy would heal how my parents loved me until my subspecies didn’t match theirs.
I was twelve when I realized how much Arthropoda were loathed, three-thousand turns ago, when I decided it would be better to attempt to survive alone in the forest instead of the orphanage my parents abandoned me in.
My life had never been carefree, but that was arguably the direst stint.
When I had no one and nothing to my name. Before I met Blossom.
Athena’s no contact resurfaced those memories. The ones I’d been working my entire life to fucking forget. Despite how swiftly I upended her.
I had broken so many of my personal rules for her… and for what?!
“You didn’t have to change your number, I already blocked her from both of our phones,” Blossom said, plopping down onto the sofa beside me. Effectively interrupting my mental pity party. “What she did is unforgivable, I’m just sorry I helped her do it.”
Patting my friend on the thigh, I repeated, “I don’t blame you for that, stop apologizing.”
“You deserve to be happy, Ara. Sappy as it is, I still think there’s someone—or someones —out there for the both of us.”
I huffed a frustrated breath. “Love is overrated. There’s no need for another’s care; I can manage on my own. I have for all these years.”
“You’ll eventually need someone, it’s inevitable, we’re eternal. You’re also wrong, you’ve had me, and I hate to break it to you, but once I find my tethers, I’m dumping your ass.”
“Since when did you become so?—”
Blossom shrugged. “We’re the most informed and self-aware we’ve both ever been, don’t you think that calls for a change? That we deserve it after all we’ve survived through? I’m forcing myself to shed my old skin with this new season. I suggest you do the same.”
Although we rarely had heart-to-hearts like this, I was grateful for her timing.
“Despite your distasteful molting reference, I think you might be right, Bloss.”