11. CHAPTER ELEVEN #2
Tables made of thick glass rested on chrome legs, hovering slightly above the transparent floor. Chairs were round, white molded seats without armrests. Light shifted constantly, bending and waving with the water, so the entire room felt submerged.
The walls weren’t walls. They were vast, curved tanks stretching upward until they blurred into the ceiling, which was also alive and moving.
Creatures drifted above us, below us, and beside us.
Everywhere.
Alien fish glided through the water in impossible shapes and colors. Some were translucent, their bones glowing like soft circuitry. Others pulsed with gradients of electric pink, citrus green, and deep ocean violet.
One spiraled past like a ribbon of liquid glass, its body refracting light into shifting rainbows that painted the room in slow motion.
Nothing swam fast. Everything drifted lazily.
I mean, I would too if I were a fish in a giant ocean.
The whole place moved to a rhythm I couldn’t hear but could feel in my chest, steady and weightless, as if the building itself were breathing.
I just couldn’t get over it. It didn’t feel like we were in a café.
It was as if the planet had decided to let us sit inside its oceans for a while.
Creatures with long ribbon fins drifted past in lazy arcs, moving like slow silk. Jellyfish pulsed in pale gold and soft mint, their bells expanding and contracting with patient precision.
A school of iridescent things moved as one organism, turning on some invisible cue so they flashed through every color in the spectrum at the same time.
“Oh my God,” I breathed. “This is insane.”
“Right?” Pia’re bounced on her toes, her glow brightening. “It’s like eating underwater, but we’re dry.”
“I studied extraterrestrials in college, aren’t you an aquatic species?”
“Yes I am. We like to live near water now, but not in water. We’ve evolved, Vada.”
She rolled her eyes jokingly.
We wove between tables to a small spot near one of the side walls, where the tank curved close. A ribbon-finned creature floated by, its translucent body streaked with electric blue.
Pia’re dropped into one of the round chairs, which wobbled once before settling. I slid into the seat across from her.
As I looked around at the other extraterrestrials eating, I noticed that the glass tables contained tiny currents carrying strands of neon algae and drifting specks that shimmered like digital plankton.
“Incredible,” I whispered.
“So why are you here?” I asked, shrugging off my hoodie. “I thought you lived in Lumara. What brings you to Tessara?”
She nudged the Neptune Academy shopping bag with her foot, making it crinkle.
“Back-to-Academy shopping,” she said proudly. “My second year at Neptune Academy starts in six weeks. Minia has the flagship store for one of our uniform lines, plus all the good stationery.”
“Paper that doesn’t disintegrate, pens that actually last through a whole exam—very important.”
“Second year,” I repeated. “So you’re basically a wise elder now.”
“Obviously.” She lifted her chin. “And since Zhari’s performing here anyway, what was I supposed to do? Not come see her again? That would be illegal.”
My chest did something stupid and fluttery.
“Speaking of Zhari and concerts,” she said, her eyes going bright, “have you seen this?”
She dug into her pocket and pulled out her chrome flip phone, flicking it open. With a few taps, a holographic compilation flickered to life above the table.
Clips floated into view. They were blurry concert footage, backstage shots, and glimpses of the bus. But you could definitely tell she was with a human woman because I was center frame in every one.
I was handing Zhari water in the viewing bubble. Standing in a corridor while she laughed at something. Walking with her to Orin’s market, holding hands.
“These videos are trending everywhere,” Pia’re said, her eyes glued to the holo.
I shook my head and let out a long sigh.
“Have you seriously not seen this? I wonder who she is. I bet they’re totally banging. Star Girlz magazine said she hasn’t had a girlfri—”
She broke off mid-sentence.
Her gaze flicked from the hologram to my face. Back to the hologram. Back to me.
“Wait a second,” she breathed.
I felt my soul exit my body and kick over a chair.
I opened my mouth to start the world’s fastest denial, but the server glided up out of nowhere, as if the universe had hit pause on our conversation.
“Two Luminal Fizz, one Frost Berry, one Deep-Water Mineral, and the Brellan Stack,” she said, sliding tall glasses onto the table.
The Frost Berry was pale blue with swirls of deep purple. The Deep-Water Mineral was a white slush with the top half of the drink blue. Both had bubbles that moved more slowly than physics seemed to allow, rising in languid trails. When I lifted one, it left little streaks of light on the glass.
The Brellan Stack was a tower of golden, slightly translucent discs topped with a drizzle that shimmered faintly. Steam curled off them, smelling like caramel and citrus and something savory I couldn’t place.
“Can I get you anything else?” the server asked.
“We’re good, thanks,” Pia’re said faintly, still looking between me and the holo.
I barely heard her. My focus had already drifted past the table and into the blue. Just beyond the server’s shoulder, large, flat, disc-shaped creatures coasted along the bottom with beautiful slowness.
I watched the ripple of their fins until the server’s uniform blurred into the background, a ghost floating away from our table.
Pia’re finally broke the spell, picking up her fork and sticking it into the stack of Brellan.
“Oh stars! Vada!” she shouted quietly, her eyes not leaving my face. “I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. Are you the woman in all the viral videos and photos? You’re the shadow girl?”
She pulled a piece of Brellan from the stack and onto her plate.
I swallowed and looked around, making sure no one had heard her.
“Shh!” I said. “Yes, I am her. Keep your voice down.”
“That is totally out of orbit!” she shouted, loud enough that the next table looked over.
“Pia’re,” I hissed, my cheeks burning. “Volume.”
Her smile faded quickly.
“Sorry. It’s just, this is crazy.”
“Believe me, I know.”
I cut my gaze pointedly toward the frozen holo above the table, where Zhari’s laugh was caught mid-frame and my shoulder was just visible beside her. I widened my eyes, trying to gesture with my entire face.
Pia’re followed my gaze and flipped her phone shut.
“We don’t need to watch any more of those,” she said.
I nodded and smiled as I grabbed myself a piece of Brellan.
“So, you’re with her?” she demanded in a fierce whisper. “Like, with her, with her?”
I let out a shaky laugh.
“Apparently, the universe thinks so,” I said. “We’re… bonded.”
Her jaw dropped.
“You mean Sola-Ka bonded,” she said. “Not just ‘she remembered your name’ bonded.”
“Well, not fully,” I said. “But aura rope and everything.”
She sat back hard, her chair wobbling, and shook her head in disbelief.
“Out of orbit,” she muttered. “Completely, wildly, out of orbit.”
I reached for my Luminal Fizz and took a sip. The taste of sour berries and a hint of something resembling lemon coated my tongue.
“Mmm, this is great. This place is amazing, Pia’re.”
I looked around the room, my eyes landing on plates of incredibly colorful food. Blue cloud jelly that sparkled. Giant pink, fluffy marshmallow-like things. A sandwich of some sort stuffed with green kelp and—
“Yeah, yeah.” She waved a hand around. “I want to know everything, okay?”
She dragged her plate closer.
“You are going to start from the beginning. And I am going to eat this Brellan while you do it, because this is clearly a multi-course explanation.”
I laughed weakly.
“I’ll try,” I said. “It’s been… a lot for such a short time.”
“Start with the concert,” she said, picking up her fork again.
So I did.
As we ate, I laid it all out—the pit, the stage, the aura, the bus, the private lounge, the shadow-girl clips, and Sira’s “friend, visiting, nobody important” explanation.
The more I talked, the more my words tangled, but once I started, I couldn’t seem to stop.
By the time I got to the part where Sira asked me to disappear into private suites and avoid cameras, Pia’re set her fork down with a soft tap.
“Okay,” she said as she picked up a napkin and wiped her lips.
She took a breath and then let out a long sigh.
“The universe does not make mistakes with bonds,” she went on to explain. “It looked at every person in every system and said, ‘Her.’ You. Specifically. Not ‘someone vaguely Vada-shaped.’ You.”
I squirmed in my seat.
“I’m not saying the universe is never messy,” she went on. “But this? This is not a glitch. And you said it yourself. You’ve spent so long shrinking that you are treating the most extraordinary thing that has ever happened to you like it’s probably a mistake.”
I raised my eyebrows and sighed in agreement.
“It’s not that simple,” I said quietly. “Sira said—”
“It’s simple, though. Sira is managing a career,” Pia’re cut in. “The universe is managing a bond. Those are not the same department.”
She leaned closer.
“And think of it this way: if you seal the bond—”
She smirked and wiggled her eyebrows.
“Sira will have to chill because you two will be bonded. No more background NPC.”
A helpless laugh escaped me, half sob and half relief. She did have a point I hadn’t considered.
“She wants to protect her,” I said. “And, okay, me. From what comes with being famous. I get that.”
“You can understand why she asked for background without agreeing that you belong there forever,” Pia’re said. “You are allowed to protect something new and still admit that you want to be seen. Those things are not mutually exclusive.”
I looked down and stared at the jellyfish drifting lazily past our feet. It must have been nice, I thought, to be nothing more than a heartbeat in the current.
There was a hollow ache of envy in watching them. No past to regret. No future to fear. Just the simple, silent weightlessness of existing.