Chapter 9 Monroe
MONROE
After we’re dismissed from orientation, we head back out the entrance and down the path of stepping stones leading away from the Conservatory.
“Thanks for coming with me,” Cherri says.
“Of course.” I frown at my bare feet. “It was good to learn more about the program.”
And now I know there’s a way I can see everyone again.
She rests a hand on my shoulder. “Want your shoes back?”
“Yes, please.” I grab the hedge for balance and brush dirt off my feet as best I can.
With a wiggle of her nose, my heels reappear. My confidence lifts with the extra four inches. I twist to admire their peeks of pink on the bottoms. “It’s a lot to take in, but it has been nice to get out of the house.”
“I totally get that.” Cherri takes my hand and drags me across the checkered courtyard to our right, passing a teacup tower spilling with burbling water and sculpted floppy ears.
A few children sit around the ledge, plucking petals off flowers and tossing them into the fountain’s pool.
“I didn’t leave the house for weeks after Fate found me.
I stayed tucked away in my room. Roxy brought me food from the café every day. ”
I can’t say it’s been a great plan, but crawling back under the covers is still appealing, especially when I see all the people—harbingers—gathered up ahead.
Cherri waves at Kendrick who’s surrounded by a gaggle of his tiny students.
He circles his arms dramatically, and a bunch of wildflowers grow up from the ground, eliciting wild giggles and giddy screams. The children pick them, run toward the fountain to join their friends or weave them into their hair.
Their squeals ring through the open air as we continue to head for the mixer marked by a large welcome sign.
Rose-gold lanterns float above pallets stacked with miniature cupcakes, brownies, towers of macarons, and flower-shaped sandwiches.
Dispensers of yellow, pink, and pale-orange fizzy drinks sit in a line with bulbous cups next to them.
Cherri and I fill our plates to the brim, then grab something to drink.
Cherri picks the yellow and I pick pale-orange, but we take turns tasting each other’s.
Mine is peachy, while Cherri’s is fizzy lemonade with an elderflower aftertaste that coats my tongue long after I’ve swallowed.
Following Cherri to an empty pallet table with four cushions set around it, I sit next to her, leaving room for her classmates to join us on the other side.
“I know it’s hard to get used to this being the new normal. Believe me, I wasn’t this well-adjusted when I first arrived.” Cherri fidgets with her napkin and tucks it into her lap.
“How did it happen—if you don’t mind me asking?”
Her attention stays on her napkin that she spreads across her pants. “Got dumped and decided to go out with my friends to get over the asshole. Drank too much. Took a pill that was supposed to be a good time. Let’s just say…it wasn’t.”
“I’m so sorry, Cherri.”
“Same…” She shrugs, though she doesn’t meet my gaze. Her death still haunts her. And why shouldn’t it? I can’t imagine getting over mine. Ever. Our stories aren’t so different. We both deserved more than we got. But isn’t that always the way? Most deaths are unexpected, unnecessary, and ugly.
Cherri lifts her chin and smiles at me. “Not worth dwelling on that now. On the bright side, I’m definitely over my ex.”
Guess Blooms like to stick to the bright side.
Everyone’s carefree and happy, spread throughout The Nursery’s playground and sprawling park. Envy twists in my chest, wishing I felt that too. Isn’t that what the afterlife is supposed to be? An idyllic place where you’re safe for eternity?
Yet among dozens of people enjoying their sunshine afternoon, I’m somehow lonelier than ever.
What I wouldn’t give to be back in my apartment, surrounded by my mismatched canvases, dancing with only my bunnies for company.
My nails dig into my palm, and I unclench my fist, picking up a brownie and taking a bite.
I have to remind myself these are normal emotions for someone who’s grieving. That’s what this is, isn’t it? Logically, I know there’s no wrong way to grieve…but it’s strange grieving for myself. A person I no longer am. A life I no longer claim.
Cherri stares behind me. Flicking a gaze over my shoulder, I spot what’s snared her interest. Kitt and Tess stand by the drink dispensers, his hand resting on the small of her back as she scans the grass, waving at a few students I recognize from orientation before shooting us a smile.
Cherri waves and I give a polite nod. Rose gold glints from the tattoos running along every inch of their exposed skin.
“Is the rose gold a Radix thing?” I ask, noting that the only other person I see here with the same hue strewn throughout their inked tattoos is the dean.
“No, it’s a mate thing.”
“Mate?” My brows furrow. “Is that the harbinger version of marriage?”
“Oh, it’s so much more than marriage,” Cherri says, almost dreamily. “Mates have an unbreakable bond. Getting one chosen for you is an eternal blessing from Fate.”
“Chosen for you?” I grimace. “Sounds more like a curse to be trapped with someone for eternity.”
Cherri pops a macaron in her mouth and nods toward the two empty cushions across from us. “I can’t wait to have a mate. But in the meantime, I’m here for all the fun.”
“Does that mean people—I mean, harbingers—don’t date?”
Cherri shrugs. “Eh, not really. When you know you’ll be getting a mate at some point, it makes it easy to scratch the itch with whoever you like until then.
It’s not like there are consequences here.
No worries about pregnancy or diseases.” She whoops and lifts a glass to me. “So fuck away, my friend. Fuck away.”
I lift my glass to cheers hers, and we both take a long sip.
How many years did I stress over pregnancy or one-night stands?
Held myself back out of fear? My late-night texts to my ex always seemed like the safest option.
The easiest, despite the emotional mess they made of things.
The lines it blurred. I wasn’t intentionally leading him on, but in hindsight, I understand why he believed we might get back together.
Now that I’ve been gone a few weeks, I wonder if he’s noticed.
There’s an ache that accompanies the idea of an immortal consequence-free existence.
I never had children. Wasn’t sure if I ever wanted them, not like so many others are certain of.
But now that the possibility’s a petal on the wind, carried off before I considered it…
maybe with the right person it would have been wonderful.
I’ll never know.
Cherri’s voice snips my wayward thoughts. “Do you mind?”
“Mind what?”
“If I go talk to Kitt and Tess for a few?” she asks, lowering her voice conspiratorially.
“Sure.” It’ll be good for her to immerse herself before her classes start.
She pushes up onto her knees and stands, holding a hand out to me. “You want to come with?”
“No, you go ahead.” I gesture toward the treats still piled high on my plate. “I’ll work on this until you’re back.”
“Fair enough,” she says, primping her dark-rose bob. “Wish me luck.”
“Good luck.” Though I’m not really sure what she needs it for. With a lift of her chest, she strides off.
I grab a macaron and take a nibble before shoving the rest of it in my mouth.
“Is this seat taken?”
“All yours,” I reply through a mouthful of macaron, crumbs falling onto my shirt when I turn toward the rich voice behind me.
It’s the Transformative Studies professor, Briar.
Not sure why he’d want to sit with me but I’m also not complaining.
He kneels across from me, plate quivering in his sage-green grasp as he sets it down on the pallet table.
We both sit in silence, eating a few minutes, intermittently casting furtive glances at each other.
He clears his throat. “So, Dr. Tanner, how are you today?’
“Monroe,” I say, glancing up at him as I wipe away the remnants of my pistachio macaron.
No one else has called me by that honorific here since my arrival.
There’s no need to be so formal. “I’m okay.
It’s obviously very different here than what I’m used to.
But at least everyone seems to be enjoying themselves. ”
It’s the only honest thing I can say. Better than admitting I’m barely holding on.
“And are you enjoying yourself?” he asks, and there’s something strained in his voice, like he’s holding his breath. His chin dips to where my skirt is bunched in my fist. I unclench it, smoothing out the material.
“I could be better.”
“You showed up for orientation after only a few weeks here, I’d say that’s better than most.”
“Showing up might be a bit of a stretch,” I say, my attempt at lightening the mood and setting him at ease. “I would have happily hid under the covers, but Cherri didn’t want to go by herself and she’s been a great friend to me since I got here.”
“She would have understood if you weren’t up for it.”
“Probably, but it’s not as if I had something better to do.
” I sigh. “I miss my people. Not that I don’t like the people here…
” I clarify, not wanting to offend him. I gesture around us.
“This is all lovely, but I don’t want any of it.
Everyone seems very kind and Florezca is beautiful, like something out of a fairy tale.
But this isn’t my home. I want my life back. ”
I grab my drink and take a quick sip. “Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have said all that.
I’m not normally an oversharer.” I gnaw at my bottom lip.
He came here to be nice and meet his new students and here I am word vomiting all over him.
A complete stranger. Leave it to me to choose to unload at the most inappropriate time and make it uncomfortable for everyone.
“You have nothing to apologize for.” He sits back on his heels, and when his lavender irises flick up to me, they’re slashed with pain.
“I’m the one who’s sorry.” He opens his mouth as if to say something more, but I hold up my finger, stopping him.
He has nothing to be sorry about, and I don’t want his pity.
“As someone who teaches this course, do you think I could handle it?” I’ve never been one to need reassurance, but right now, I’m not sure I’ll keep upright with my world completely turned upside down.
“My other roommates have said I should wait, that most people—most Blooms—do. But I don’t think spending my days wallowing is doing me any favors. ”
Professor Briar comes around and sits beside me.
“Your roommates are right. Most Blooms wait. But you aren’t most Blooms, are you?
” His gaze drops to the untouched plate of food in front of him, and he purses his lips, weighing his next words.
“Someone with your intellect, who understands people as well as you do… The best harbingers are the ones who understand how their world works. You would have that advantage going into the curriculum and heading out to the mortal realm afterward.”
My cheeks heat, and Briar’s hands slip into his pockets.
“Thank you.” My training, my life, those would be assets in getting through the course. I hadn’t thought about it that way before. “It means a lot.”
My gaze darts to where Cherri is chatting with a guy from class now. She sees me out of the corner of her eye and waves with her hand discreetly at her side. “Excuse me, I need to go tell my friend something.”
“Of course, you go and enjoy the rest of your day with your friend.” The ball in his throat turns. “Have a great afternoon.”
“You too.” I bite my lip, staring at the way the ink moves as he does. “And thanks again.”
Pink stains his cheeks. “Don’t mention it.”
Retreating a few steps, I give him a small smile before turning on my heels and scurry through the crowd to meet up with Cherri. “I’ll do the program with you.”
“Yessss!” Cherri squeals, hopping up and down before dragging me in for a hug.
Maybe this decision is impulsive, but it could be good to throw myself into this training. Use my skillset to my advantage like Briar mentioned. It’s better than the alternative of screaming into my pillow.
After all, knowledge is power. Understanding what I could do with my magic and how to move through my world as a harbinger would make it possible to go back and see how everyone’s doing.
Besides, I have my doctorate, for fuck’s sake. How hard could making some pretty flowers be?