CHAPTER 11
Julie is much improved when she emerges clean, dressed, and is offered a culinary delight known as leftover lasagna and a portion of ice cream. The ice cream was exposed to temperatures below the freezing point of water while she bathed, but it’s hardly chilled. Despite this, she opts to consume it. Just as Hannah did.
“I told you that Jonoh created the dairy version of Flakka,” Hannah reminds Julie as Julie stares, slack-jawed, at her bowl that she’s consumed half of.
“What is Flakka?” I inquire.
Saphkarra gracefully hops from the sofa arm to the low coffee table placed between the furniture pieces and begins grooming herself.
With a steely-eyed look of disapproval, Julie nudges her off the table onto the floor.
My feline, landing near-silently, folds back her ears in obvious displeasure. All four of her paws are planted on the carpet in disbelief, and with a slow, dangerous look over her shoulder at Julie, she utters a noise that sounds deeply offended.
I send my displaced pet an apologetic wince before I turn a smile on Hannah.
“A serious drug,” Hannah says. She sits up in her chair, where she’s been looking utterly satisfied by the food I’ve made her. “Basically your ice cream. Except I’m afraid yours is more addictive,” she muses. “I can almost guarantee it tastes better.”
“Tomorrow I’m bringing home the shit to make chicken alfredo!” Julie exclaims around her fork. She’s finished her ice cream and is working on her main course. “From scratch. Let’s make use of your boy’s skills. No more microwaved lasagna for us!”
I glow from the strange praise and rise to begin to wash the dishes. When I”m standing at the cookery washing station, I glance at Hannah and I find her watching me with such a heated stare, my wings nearly combust.
When the cleansing of the dishes and cutlery is completed, the remains of the leftover lasagna has cooled enough that I can place it in a covered dish. I turn to the refrigeration unit to store it, but find there is a lack of easily available room.
Stymied, I peer at the mysterious clear bags and containers holding a number of strange foods and an assortment of greens that Hannah identified as being fit for consumption. Earlier, she threw out a bag of long, limp, slimy brown tentacles that she claimed was celery, which was confusing, because from what I’ve heard from my Earthen friends’ discussions, I was under the impression that celery was a different color and was fibrously, crisply structured.
It’s clear that I misunderstood. Hannah’s version of celery better resembled a soft-tissued invertebrate you’d find in the sea.
I make room by piling large, strong-smelling reddish-brown globes to one side. The things have leafy green sprouts on their tops and long spiky tails below, from which they drip dark red watery droplets.
I stare at this with some apprehension. Then I fit a folded sheet of absorbent wiping paper under it, and slide the dish of lasagna beside it.
There is no need to store the ice cream. It’s gone.
Which is, I’ve been told, the mark of a meal well made. Sighing contentedly, I step back. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to me, Saphkarra had stopped directly behind me to sit and lithely stretch behind herself to lick her spine. And most unfortunately, her plume-like tail has rolled flat across the floor—precisely under my foot as I’m mid-motion stepping backward.
Tail temporarily crushed under my weight, my pet’s eyes slam wide, her fur stands straight up, and she emits a yowled screech that causes me to jolt forward as I emit an exclamation of involuntary shock. Hannah and Julie gasp in surprise or alarm too.
Saphkarra streaks from the room.
“Saphkarra!” I call, beyond concerned.
“Oh gosh!” Hannah is on her feet, staring after my cat. “You stepped on her?”
“I’m afraid I did!” I confirm, hearts sinking.
“Aww, poor kitty,” Hannah says sadly. “I shut the door to Julie’s room so—”
“Thank you,” Julie says.
“—she either ran into my bedroom or my washroom,” Hannah tells me.
Torn, I abandon Hannah in favor of locating my poor pet. I dash down the cramped hallway, which ends in two diagonally placed doorways, one diverging into Hannah’s room, the other to Julie’s, the two spaces only separated by a thin dividing wall. I ease into Hannah’s room, only receiving a mute thrill at being allowed into my mate’s personal space because I’m presently too concerned for my injured Saphkarra to appreciate this momentous access.
“I am so sorry I harmed you,” I tell the empty-appearing room. But with an inhale, I scent my feline.
I lower myself until I’m eye level with the underside of Hannah’s bed.
I’m met with Saphkarra’s positively huge eyes.
“Oh, you poor creature,” I croon. “Come here, pretty female. I’ll comfort you.”
Julie’s voice floats to my ears. “Would you listen to that? Rawr. He’s not for me and I want to be comforted. But you shouldn’t hit that tonight.”
Hit that. I believe this is an Earthan euphemism for sexual relations. I’m almost certain, in fact.
I blink at my cat.
“Hey, tell me again when it became your job to tell me what to do?” Hannah replies, voice a confused whisper.
“It’s not my job, but he’s giving off serious helpless hero vibes and you eat that damage up for breakfast. I’m trying to save you both from imminent destruction. He’s bleeding so much adorableness and vulnerability he’s basically candy. You cannot fuck him.”
“Candy? Really?” Hannah asks.
“Am I wrong?” asks Julie.
Hannah sighs. “Thanks a lot for the advice. I can resist my urge to jump him. Give me a little credit.”
“I don’t think you can. I’m telling you, he’s cocaine-laced candy with wings. This guy is literally the worst case I’ve ever seen so you’re sure to bang him once and fall in love. Then you two will get married on a whim—and whim marriages are always a bad idea. But hey, far be it from me to give out solid advice when I work in an industry that capitalizes on human misery by making said human misery lucrative.”
Hannah sighs and whispers back, “I’m not going to marry him on a whim.”
Julie does not whisper at all. “Why do I not believe you? But fine. You do whatever you’re gonna do. Just remember: our bedrooms share a wall, genius. Do me a favor and pull the headboard away from said wall, would you?”
I expect Hannah to laugh as if Julie is joking, but Hannah does not laugh. Instead, she agrees easily. “Fine. We’ll do that.”
“And he seems like he might be a squealer. Do you need a ball gag or something to plug his mouth?”
“Julie!” Hannah laughs. “He’s not going to be a squealer.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Neither do you! Ugh, just leave it. He’s going to be quiet and so will I. If we ever have sex, we’ll have super polite, silent sex.”
“Sure, sure. We’ll see. You owe me fifty bucks if you’re wrong.”
“I don’t have fifty bucks and neither do you. Want to bet five?”
“That I can swing,” Julie agrees. “Either of you make a peep, you owe me a fiver. If I don’t get woken up in the middle of the night to a man moaning your name, then I’ll owe you the five-spot. Agreed?”
“Deal.”
“Am I really hearing this?” I whisper in disbelief to Saphkarra, who of course doesn’t answer me, but she appears more collected, neither frightened nor pained, thankfully.
I reach my arm around her, scooping her to my chest. “I profusely apologize that you were harmed. I’ll attempt not to tread on any of your appendages in the future,” I assure her.
As I carry her out of Hannah’s bedroom, she nudges her head under my chin, so I rest my chin on her, just enjoying the simple pleasure of cuddling a warm, soft creature who is growing to care about me.
I am growing to care very much for her too. “I believe I like cats,” I announce to the females in the common social activities room. “I knew I was lonely, but I didn’t realize how much of my craving was simply for touch. Just holding Saphkarra makes my chest ache less.”
I glance up, and Julie is smirking. She turns the smirk from me and Saphkarra to Hannah, who is positively staring at me snuggling Saphkarra.
Also, Hannah’s mouth is hanging open. “I’m in so much trouble,” she announces, eyes wide.
I drop to one knee in front of her, searching her face, instantly concerned. “Why?” I ask. Saphkarra starts purring loudly against my chest.
“You know what?” Julie says. “I think it’s about time I called it a night. The alien is craving the touch of a pussy.”
“Good call,” Hannah agrees, giving her a silently mouthed thanks.
Julie stands and points at her. “Headboard.”
Hannah nods. “Away from wall. Consider it done.”