Chapter 2 Samantha, the Beauty #2
I remember the conversation—something about a rare flower near a river to the north that blooms only once in a while. Mila promised to wait for us so she could show us how to harvest it the right way—so we don’t damage the roots and it can bloom again later.
We follow Mila and Lina back to our tree-home to drop off our things. I race up the ladder and stash our bags, then climb down as fast as I can.
When I get back down, I’m thrilled to see Goulou and Flea waiting for us.
They’re probably around my age—though it’s hard to tell for sure.
The Gekkaris don’t care much about things like birthdays.
I only guessed because the three of us train together with Mom!
And they’re way more lively and expressive than Mila or Lina.
Since they started joining our plant workshops, Mom’s also been teaching them sign language and basic spoken sounds.
We don’t talk about it openly, but Mom and I think Goulou is a boy and Flea is a girl.
Gekkaris don’t have visible gender traits, and most of the time, you can only tell by size or posture. With younger ones, it’s even harder.
“Goulou! Flea! Hi!” I say, signing the words carefully as I speak them.
“Za’man’da!” they reply as best they can.
Our little group sets out, heading north toward the river.
The forest gets denser and deeper in color—shades of purple and violet all around us.
There are no homes here, just wild trees swaying gently in the wind.
The breeze rustling through the giant fronds makes a soft hum that almost sounds like a song.
I spot a few familiar plants along the way—herbs and bushes Lina taught us how to gather—but that’s not what we’re here for today.
After what feels like forever, we finally arrive.
A dark green river snakes quietly along the base of a deep orange cliff.
On the banks, bright mushrooms and colorful flowers grow in thick clusters.
I’m not sure what we’re supposed to be harvesting, but before anyone explains, the Gekkaris leap into the water without hesitation!
As always, Mom and I copy them—but not before we take off our fitted bodysuits. We swim just like they do—naked and free.
The water is perfect—cool and refreshing after the long hike. Lina, Mila, and Mom get out pretty quickly, but Goulou, Flea, and I splash around a little longer, laughing and playing.
When we finally come out, Flea points to my chest, where my new breasts are just starting to show.
“Nol’mal?” she asks curiously.
“Yes, it’s normal,” I answer, trying to sound casual.
Still, I can’t help blushing. I catch Mom’s sympathetic look. Even surrounded by a gender-neutral species, I’m still a teenager with a body that’s changing fast. From now on, I think I’ll keep my bodysuit on when we swim.
We spend the next hour following Mila and Lina’s careful example, gathering delicate pink petals and placing them gently in a soft woven pouch. But after a while, Flea, Goulou, and I start to get bored.
When a bright yellow insect zips past us, we chase it just for fun. The grown-ups let us go—they know it’s hard to keep teens focused for long.
We follow the buzzing creature into a clearing lit with the most brilliant cyan blue.
The ground is carpeted with dazzling flowers, each one topped with a round puffball larger than my hand.
The puffs are made of turquoise seeds with silky, feathery threads.
They shimmer in the sunlight like tiny lanterns.
I’ve seen something like this before—smaller and white. In my memory, the wind would catch the seeds, sending them flying like tiny parachutes. It was so magical...
On a whim, I blow gently on one of the blue puffballs.
Instantly, hundreds of little seed-parachutes lift into the air, swirling around us. Goulou and Flea laugh and join in, sending clouds of blue drifting everywhere.
Soon, we’re completely surrounded by them. They burst against our skin with tiny pops, leaving turquoise stains all over our arms and faces. A sweet, tangy smell fills the air. We’re laughing so hard we can’t stop. Every last puffball gets destroyed in our game.
Suddenly, Mom appears at the edge of the clearing, with Lina and Mila right behind her. She stops, takes in the scene, and her lips twitch—part amusement, part “you’re in so much trouble.”
But Mila and Lina’s skin flares dark red—a clear sign we’ve seriously messed up.
“Oh no, da cuh-lah won’ come off. Goulou an’ Flea won’ be abuh do spee fo sevah days!” Mila scolds, waving her hands and arms in every direction.
I don’t catch all of it, but Mom translates immediately.
“Mila says the blue color won’t come off.
Goulou and Flea won’t be able to speak for several days.
For you, it won’t be a big deal. But for your friends, it’s different.
That color is going to mess with their ability to communicate.
Their skin won’t be able to ‘speak’ properly until it fades.
Hopefully, this will teach them a lesson. ”
“It’s my fault! I started it,” I say.
“No need to cover for them—they’re not going to be punished. You know the Gekkaris don’t do that. Let’s just try to clean up a little. Looks like you three have earned yourselves a second bath!”
A few minutes later, we’re all back in the river, scrubbing our skin with everything we’ve got. But no matter how hard we try, Mila was right: the turquoise dye won’t come off.
I glance nervously at Goulou and Flea. Will they be mad at me for messing things up?
Then Goulou’s round face lights up with a big, toothless smile, and he lets out a deep, rumbling laugh. Flea and I exchange a look—then burst out laughing too. Just like that, the worry vanishes, and we’re back to being the goofy little trio we’ve always been.
These Gekkaris—they’re not even human, but I feel closer to them than to most kids I’ve met back in the colony. Especially the human teenagers who show up at my dad’s shop. Ugh. I really can’t stand them.
Well… unless you count Ayden, my brother’s partner. But he’s different.
Ayden isn’t some colony brat—he’s a Galactic Sentinel-in-training, just like Logan. They’re almost done with their training now, and soon, they’ll be flying all over the galaxy, hunting down smugglers and infiltrating shady outposts.
Logan calls it “being a space sheriff.” It’s something from the old movies from Earth. He loves that kind of stuff.
Since he joined the Confederation, Logan’s visited us exactly five times. Each time, he and Ayden only stayed for a couple of days in their two-seater patrol ship before heading off again.
Every visit, my fascination with Ayden has grown. He’s smart. Funny. But also… intense. His eyes—black like obsidian—stare straight through me, like he’s trying to read my thoughts. But when he speaks to me, it’s always like I’m just a kid. Nothing more.
I know I’m younger than him—but come on, I’m fifteen polar years now. I’m not a baby anymore!
He’s way more relaxed around Logan. But when he looks at me, I freeze. My brain just… stops working. I never know what to say. I always feel too small, too silly.
But someday? He’ll really see me.
I promise myself that.