It was Wednesday, August 7th, and like every other day where I didn't have to work, I woke up in the middle of the afternoon.
As I was only ever scheduled for the busier days, I didn't work most Wednesdays. This drop in hours had both good and bad qualities to it. It meant I didn't have to constantly burn myself on hot oil or listen to that incessant beeping, but at the same time, that was money lost.
My meagre wage only just covered the rent. If my hours were to have suddenly dropped, then there was nothing I could have done about it besides grabbing a paper cup and sitting outside, hoping people passing by were feeling extra generous. That or move back in with my parents... which was an automatic no.
It took a solar death ray aiming itself directly into my closed eyelids to force me into actually getting up. Already I was suffering from a headache due to the unusually long sleep I'd given myself. I rubbed at my crusty eyes and thumbed circles into the sides of my temple.
Wednesday was grocery day; otherwise I might have been tempted to simply sleep the entire day away, as I had done an undisclosed number of times.
I crouched down beside the ceramic bathroom sink and grabbed at a half-empty box of 500 mg paracetamol. When acquired, I popped two white tablets out and swallowed them with a mouthful of water from the cold tap.
I looked in the small, rounded shaving mirror and cringed at the sight; I hadn't shaved in a good few days, and it showed. Too tired and without work to report to, I almost skipped it once more.
Ignoring the stubble for a minute, I groggily brushed my teeth and gargled on my too-strong peroxide mouthwash, ensuring that at least my gums were healthy and that my teeth remained white.
As I caught my reflection in the mirror for a second time, I froze. God, I thought with a shudder. I look just like my dad—same dull brown hair, same faded blue eyes. Jesus, we even shared the same pale complexion. The greatest offence was that he also had a permanent beard of stubble.
"Fine," I hissed, grabbing the bottle of shaving cream, a slim pink razor, and a small black towel. Reminders of that man, even those that came from me, always lit a fire in me. I have to be better than him, I thought sulkily.
After wiping my face and cleaning off my razor with some water, I managed a decent smile in the mirror. I didn't look too bad, actually, family resemblances aside.
I left the bathroom, a slight pep in my step, and entered my kitchen-living room hybrid. There was a fair few shopping bags near my front door, steadily piling up and spilling miscellaneous rubbish onto the wooden floor. I had been using them as rubbish bins during a bad mental rut and had somehow forgotten.
Jesus, that's bad…
I soon got them sorted, along with some quick hoovering.
That small bit of housework done, I grabbed my phone from my bedroom and sat down in the kitchen to check my notifications: a cousin of mine's birthday, an upvote achievement on Reddit, a text from my sister, and a notification from Twitter that Stephen King had tweeted. I turned the device off and placed it on the kitchen side whilst I fished about for some late breakfast.
I dug through my cupboards for a while, eventually coming back out with two fruit and grain bars along with a clean glass that I filled with milk. The drink tasted strangely sweet, almost like a thin milkshake. I looked down at the white liquid, swilled it around for a bit, and shrugged.
Whilst sipping my suspicions milk, I turned my phone back on and pulled up the Friendster Messenger app to see what my sister wanted.
"James, James! Check your Friendster." Was the first message.
"Father has betrayed us!" Was the second. They were sent about an hour before I'd gotten up, so knowing her, she was still online—the shut-in she was.
I tapped out a quick message.
"What's up?" I asked, but before she had the chance to answer, I opened up the cursed blue app and scrolled for a bit.
Sponsored add, open group I'd never liked, Sharon's whining, my cousin's birthday—something I made sure to like—and nothing else of any importance.
Not seeing it on the first bit of browsing, I typed in our father's name and dug through his profile. He hadn't called in about two months, but Sarah's dramatic messages had me curious.
"Hah. What were you expecting though?" I typed out upon seeing a photo of him in a tuxedo, standing beside his sisters and brothers-in-law. They were all at a wedding we weren't invited to. A tingle of irritation ran up my spine, even having assumed he would still go.
"idk more good?" Sarah elegantly replied.
I scoffed and closed the app.
"I could've guessed he'd do that. Actually, I did!" I thumbed out while stuffing the second bar into my mouth. The milk stained glass was placed into the sink for later cleaning.
I tossed the empty plastic wrappers into the kitchen bin and left my phone on the table while I got changed in my room.
As much as I wanted to, I couldn't go shopping in pyjamas.
From my drawers I pulled a pair of blue jeans, my black trainers, a blue shirt, and a tough raincoat—because I lived in England. I looked for my backpack for a while and, for reasons still unknown to me, found it within my sock drawer.
How even…?
I tightened the straps and threw a book from my desk into it because British transport could not be trusted.
I grabbed my phone off the table and my keys from the hook.
"Still scummy," was the message I'd missed whilst getting ready.
"Eh, if you really want to complain, tell Nana—she was there too. I'll talk to you later. I've got shopping to do."
I locked the door and left.
It didn't take long to reach the bus stop, but unfortunately for me it was packed, forcing me to stand off to the side. I took my phone out and loaded up some games. There was no way I was about to whip out a book like The Gryphon Generation in front of so many normal-looking people.
Five minutes later, a dull white and purple number 40 bus pulled into the side, exporting a half dozen people onto the curb before being besieged by those waiting at the shelter. I flashed the ticket reader my monthly pass and took a seat near the back.
Disinfectant mixed with alcohol and stale sweat drifted into my nostrils, but I was so numb to it that I was able to tune it out without much difficulty.
When bored of waiting to have enough cookie currency to buy a fourth wizard tower in my game, I reached into my coat's breast pocket and took out my wallet to see if I'd be able to afford real food or if I was on noodles for another week.
I had seventy pounds until next Tuesday, which was more than enough for someone who grew up in a council estate near Harehills. Ten a day, with a little change on the side, was fine by me.
If I budget it right, I can get something from Hellmouth, I realised. The new volume of Draken Kaisen was out that day, and whilst it would cost a full day's budget, I was determined to at least try and get a hold of it.
Thoughts of budget, however, soon brought forth thoughts of where exactly I gotten that wage from. At that point in time I'd been considering leaving, as well as starting to send out applications for places that were hiring, but I was starting to hesitate.
Contract hours… Better pay, more hours—consistent hours.
But I'd be stuck, not enough time to study...
I got off in the city centre and went straight for the nearest One Below, a popular budget store. I grabbed a box of instant vanilla latte along with a caramel variant. I already had milk, so I left that section untouched. I also got myself a multi-pack of chicken noodles and some off-brand cola.
My backpack was only just big enough to fit all of my purchases in, so I made a mental note to get a plastic bag at the next store.
Next up was Heron Foods for actual food.
Six chicken burgers along with six burger buns for a total of £5.50. I scanned the rest of the aisles and nabbed myself some eggs and salt, as I hadn't bought either of them since I'd moved in four months ago. Butter was next, then toilet paper, thin sliced bread, and some salt and vinegar crisps as I had some change to spare. I stuffed them all into my brand new plastic bag and checked my wallet.
£49.61 left.
I grinned smugly to myself, adjusted my grip on the carrier bag, and headed down the street to Hellmouth. It was late by the time I finally got there, but according to my watch, I still had about thirty minutes before they closed up.
Hellmouth smelt like nerd. It always did no matter how often it was cleaned, what day it was, or what month it happened to be. Anyone who's been in a comic book store knows what one smells like.
Plastic, fresh sweat, cheap deodorant, and lingering dust. The first floor was mainly merchandise: figurines, cosplay masks, card game sets, and shirts that totally weren't made in foreign sweatshops. There were a few slim western comics off to the right in cardboard boxes, but I hadn't touched them in years and so ignored them entirely as I went to the back of the place.
The Alien collectibles are always so good-looking, I thought as I pulled back a Xenomorph empress I couldn't afford. Childish as it sounded to say out loud, looking at stupid stuff I didn't have the money for always made me want to work harder, to do more. It reminded me that I needed to put more into my university fund.
A fund that desperately needed more attention.
I placed her back on the metal rack and left to go to the downstairs area.
On the way, I overheard two workers talking loudly to one another, complaining about a new worker not knowing how to use the till. At first I didn't bother listening in and only did so when they said the magic word, dragon. I stopped in my tracks and pretended to dawdle near the stacks of My Little Pony Funko Pops.
"It's not really his fault," said the younger one on the right, a blonde guy in his twenties. "I'm not sure they even had a choice in where they were ending up. Besides, this place is corporate, isn't it? They can afford to spend a bit on them." There were very few customers up top, so I understood why they were having such a private conversation.
Still… a little open isn't it?
"Yeah, but isn't it a little unfair to everyone who applied and didn't get the position, all because they need jobs? There were people with relevant experience we could have hired instead," countered the older one on the left, a red head in his late thirties.
I was reminded of when Tom had told me that the monetary stipends that dragons received were slowly getting lowered. I wondered if that extended to every dragon, but without more to go on, I had no idea.
Tired of the depressing socio-economic talk, I headed down into the lower section where they kept the manga and light novels. Somehow, there were even fewer people milling about. I hurried myself up, aiming for the spot where the manga was alphabetised.
Along the way I caught sight of Hellmouth's very own draconic employee—he was light blue, green-eyed, and, to my surprise, lacked wings. He was larger than Alys, who stood beside him, chatting excitedly about something clutched tightly in her right paw.
My brain popped mid-step, nearly causing me to stumble.
I watched the two talk for a moment longer before confirming that yes, it actually was Alys and not my inability to distinguish similar-looking dragons; She was busy waving her book in front of the male's stubby snout, trying to get him to see something.
Likely sensing that she was being watched, her red eyes flickered over to me for a fraction of a second before suddenly returning to the task at paw. We both saw each other, but neither said anything—that, at least, was very human of her.
I stopped staring at them and instead busied myself with scanning the shelves for the latest volume of my second favourite manga.
I checked the spines for numbers and felt my heart drop at the distinct lack of a volume eleven. Either the store hadn't gotten it yet, or someone had managed to snipe it before I had the chance to get my mitts on it.
I leant back away from the section and sighed audibly, more than a little annoyed that my trip to the store had been pointless. There was no other manga I wanted, and I was too broke to afford any merchandise besides a pin. I mean, I could have gotten one, but I'd have had no way to excuse it like I could a book.
Waterstones was closed as well, so no God Emperor of Dune.
"James?"
There came a voice I didn't recognise immediately, nor after giving it some thought. "It's James, right?" I turned around, just checking in case it was someone I knew and I was being a bad friend. Instead, I saw the male of the dragon duo looking straight at me, right front paw raised in greeting.
"Hey?" I replied, giving my own little wave. Alys grabbed the worker's shoulder, whispering something angrily into his ear.
I cringe internally and make eye contact. "Oh, um, hey, Alys, how've you been?" I decided to speak first, seeing as she looked about ready to explode.
"I've been good, yep, good!" was her rapid answer.
A beat passed.
"You're so awkward, Alys, I swear to fucking Skie. Go! Go talk with your friend!" He actually shoved her forward a few steps. I could only watch in amused horror as she turned around and tried to push him back.
I could tell what was happening, or at least what would happen. I approached the pair, walked up to the guy, and held out a hand. "I'm James," I announced, "nice to meet you."
"Rhys," he took my hand with gusto, shaking it with a seemingly practiced confidence. "Alys was just saying you work together and that you helped her out when she couldn't get a machine to work. She also said that you're really good at your job."
That's... Kind of sweet, I thought.
"Nah, not really." I shrugged off the compliment, not used to receiving them. "I've just been there too long. Do you, uh, work here?" I try to navigate the conversation away from myself, as I always do.
"Yep!" He said proudly. "I finished about thirty minutes ago, but I get, like, a 15% off discount, so I was helping Alys figure out what to buy. You read manga, right?" He asked suddenly. I stared at him, wide eyed at the perfect guess. "It's just that I saw you over there looking through it."
"Oh, yeah, I've read a few. What are you looking for?" I angled my head downward and spotted the first omnibus collection of Berserk held tightly by Alys. "Whoa, the first few volumes of Berserk?" I asked, surprised by the choice. "It's pretty brutal if you've not read too much seinen."
"I've read a bit, but it was all online," Alys said, claws tapping against the hardback cover of the omnibus, producing a relaxing sound, "so I wanted to get the proper physical copies. Have you read it?"
"I've seen memes and a few of the more graphic pages. So, uh, no, not properly." I felt a little bad for letting her down. "I really need to start reading it, everyone always says that it's one of the greatest mangas, so I've got to at least try it once before I die."
"You should! The plot is really good, and the characters are so well written! I use, um, a place called readberserkonline.com." She stepped a foot closer, eyes wide and maw open in a fang-filled grin.
"Readbeserkonline?" I mimicked, "A little on the nose, isn't it?"
Rhys chuckled. "I thought she was joking when she told me. I'm thinking it's on purpose, because who would name a pirating site something so obvious?"
His accent was different from his friend's—less noticeable. I wasn't sure why I'd only just caught on, but at last I did.
"So, are you two together or something?" I asked, biting the bullet so I wouldn't be forced into any more awkward situations. They looked similar enough to be siblings, but their eyes were noticeably different, and I still couldn't be sure it wasn't just my snout blindness.
"No, she just lives in my house," Rhys replied flatly, tone completely deadpan.
"Room-mates...?" I questioned.
"Technically, yes."
Alys groans. "He's my brother," she explained, giving her sibling a glare—a surprisingly vicious-looking expression. Despite her soft tone of voice and manner of speech, it was sort of terrifying. It was like when the family dog spots a cat and suddenly it looks like an actual predator.
"I thought you were," I say, keeping my tone casual, "but I didn't want to guess and have you think I was being, um, species-ist?"
They simultaneously look up at me. "It'd be a pretty easy guess," Rhys said easily. "We're basically just gender swapped versions of each other aside from the eyes. By the way, is that a word? Species-ist?"
I shrug. "Probably not, no, but it sounded right."
"Humans have a lot of words—too many, actually. No offence, but your language is insane," Rhys suddenly said, eyes alight. "English was what we were taught, but good skies above was it hard to figure out."
"You're not actually the first person to tell me that, you know. I've got online friends from abroad who are learning English, and they all complain that it's miserable." I find myself smiling warmly at the memory. "I'm so glad I was brought up speaking it so I don't have to learn it. Honestly, though, you two speak it so well it's actually kind of crazy."
"I am pretty great, yes," Rhys said proudly, tapping his chest and nodding his snout. "And Alys too, I guess," he smacked her on the shoulder a few times until she swatted at his limb. They're like cats, I thought, but didn't dare say.
I looked down at my watch during a quiet moment and frowned. "You should hurry to the till; you've only got like seven minutes before it closes up." I announced, looking at Alys, who actually looked anxious at the prospect. She licked her lips and turned to her brother, who immediately began to hurry up the stairs. I followed the pair—not because I was following them, but because I didn't live inside the basement of a comic book shop.
There was no issue with the payment. In fact, by the time Alys had put the book into her backpack, they were able to catch up with me as I was leaving the store.
I was expecting some difficulty, given the older worker was the one at the till, and how he clearly didn't want Rhys to be working there.
I stood a distance away from them when we were all outside. "Right… I've got dinner to make, so... I'll see you guys later. Or, um, at least you, Alys." I reached out for a hand shake, which Alys moved to reciprocate but was stopped by her brother who stepped forward.
"Do you want to go out for dinner?" He asked.
"W-What?" I blink, no fully understanding. "Why?"
"Not like courting!" He laughed, "I meant us three. You also get a discount at that place you work at, don't you?" I nodded yes. "You totally don't have to, but we were going to head to that small one in town, and I figured we may as well ask if you want to join us." He paused, likely to gauge my reaction. "It's cool if you don't—I'm not going to roast your anything for saying no!"
He sounded desperate, something that I felt was unusual for a dragon like him.
I was curious as to why, as well as kind of hungry, so I nodded and said, "Sure. It's probably going to be better than my expertly planned out dinner of two bowls of instant noodles and a diet cola."
"Whoa… So nutritious that you only need two!" he said cheekily.
Me and Rhys joked with one another for a short while as we walked. He reminded me of my oldest brother, and after telling him that, he mentioned wanting to meet him. There was a certain click with male friends, and it seemed that kinship extended to dragons as well.
I looked back at Alys, who had a vaguely lost look about her. She seemed... It was so hard to tell with a snout, but if I were forced to pick... I'd have said she looked left out.
Feeling somewhat bad for causing her to look like that, I let Rhys lead our walk north and used that to trail back a bit so I could stand beside his sister. I waited a moment before speaking. "So, Alys, how've you been? I think we've been given opposite shifts." I knew what being a third wheel was like and didn't wish that fate on anyone.
"Um..." She looked up at the rapidly darkening sky, picking her words carefully. "Stressful?" Was her chosen answer. "It's hard to do most of the stations with only one paw, and, um, some of the other workers are a little bit..."
"Annoying?" I offered.
She guffawed. "Hah! Yeah, a bit." She was so much more reserved than her brother; it was astonishing to me. My sister and I weren't twins, but we were incredibly similar. "But I get it! They're all busy with their own work, a-and I've not been there for very long, so they're probably trying to let me figure it out on my own."
It wasn't directed at me, not at all, but I felt guilty nonetheless. If I had been quicker when she was struggling to do something as simple as mop up, she might not have looked so dejected as she did in that instance.
"Maybe," I squeak out before clearing my throat. "That's sort of what happened to me, actually. Have you met Elizabeth, though? Tall, blonde? She's pretty cool. Helped me out a tonne when I first started."
She brightens a lumen. "Yeah, she is," she concurred. "I forgot to clock in two days in a row, but she just said it happens all the time and fixed it for me straight away."
"She is pretty great, yeah. Straight up, she's one of the reasons I didn't leave in my first few weeks." I scratched my chin, which was still a little itchy from when I'd shaved. "The early days can be the hardest, but once you get past them-" I made a swiping gesture with my right hand, "-that's as hard as it gets; the rest is way easier."
"At least I've got that to look forward to," said Alys. "Oh, also, thanks for helping me with the kiosk—I probably would have lost my mind if not for you."
I once again wave away the compliment.
"Nah, it's alright. It would've been pretty shitty of me to watch you struggle and not do anything. Especially when I was less than four feet away. Only someone truly evil would do something like that." I give her a knowing look, which she smirks at and lets out a chirp-like snicker.
As we're walking, I take out my phone, turn on my mobile data, and check the bus times for the 40—for once they were running fine. I turn off the data and put the Android back in my coat pocket. It seemed the buses were actually running on time for once, but still, I aimed for the 18:55 one.
When we entered our restaurant's sister location, Rhys quickly grabbed a free table beside the windowed area on the left. I followed and sat opposite him, with Alys on her brother's right. I took my phone back out, and after connecting to the place's terrible internet, opened up my McDonald's app and swiped to the offers section where the employee discounts were hidden.
9 Nugget meal with fries and a medium Fanta, my beloved.
I pay and sit back, fingers tapping against the table. "What are you two going to get?" I ask to make conversation.
"Is the fang burger too obvious of a choice?" Asked Rhys, "I don't want to be stereotypical, but it looks really good."
"Horrible name, by the way," added Alys quietly.
I shrug. "I know right? It is pretty alright, though. It's got a lot of tomatoes and a lot of chicken," I explain. "If you like both of those things, then you'll love it."
"I don't know a dragon who doesn't like tomatoes." Rhys lent over to look at what his sister was ordering, and so did I. Doing so, I found myself fascinated by the thick, brick-like device she had slapped onto the table.
"Whoa. I've never seen a tablet like that." I admitted.
It was a solid black device, with a tough-looking screen and wide, raised edges. It definitely looked scratch-resistant, along with bomb resistant.
To my slight surprise, Alys pushed the tablet forward so I could get a good look. I didn't do much to it besides landing a few taps to the side to test the material. "This thing looks seriously durable," I commented.
"Drop-proof, fire-proof, scratch-proof," explained Rhys, who then took it and flipped it over before pressing a talon against a small crack on the back, "except she somehow still managed to break it! Look, you see this?" I craned my neck down and, after throwing in a squint, spotted a small, jagged line. I looked to Alys, who glanced away. "How'd you do it, Alys?" Rhys asked, prodding her side.
"I, uh, dropped it." She said quietly. She then took the device back and returned to ordering her food. She kept her eyes glued to the bright screen.
"How far?" I ask, finding myself genuinely interested in the story.
"Pretty far," she answered, still not looking directly at me or her smirking sibling.
"How far is far?" Countered Rhys.
She mumbles, but I couldn't hear, so I leant in closer. She looked up, making eye contact for a moment, and looked away. "Sorry, what was that?" I asked.
"Nearly a kilometre." She finally groused out. "I... I wanted to see what the city was like from high up, so I, uh, you know, went up and tried to take a picture, but when I was getting it out of my bag, it slipped. I tried to dive down to catch it, but I kept missing. I was lucky that it landed in a tree."
I look at her tablet in astonishment. "What the fuck is that thing made of!?" I gasped, "Adamantium?"
Alys snickered, not entirely getting the reference but likely still understanding the message behind it. "That's a real metal, you know. It's used to make fire-resistant armour on Reon."
"Reon?" I recall the name. "That's your home planet, isn't it?" They both nodded, though a flicker of misery flashed across their collective snouts at the word.
This gave me pause, and quickly I tried to steer the conversation away.
"It's kind of weird to think about, but you guys are technically aliens."
Idiot!
"We're literally aliens," said Rhys, "and to us, so are you," he added.
"Huh," I say audibly, relieved that they had taken the proverbial bait. "I always imagine aliens as, like, humans with green skin, not dragons."
"Oh, yeah, you humans are pretty weird when it comes to creativity. It's either the most boring things I've ever read or something I could never imagine even if I had a thousand years." Rhys said.
"Probably because there's so many of us," I suggested. "How many dragons are there back home?"
WHAT THE FUCK!? Am I having a stroke!?
There was a lull in the conversational flow, like a rock in a narrow stream.
"Oh, shit! Sorry, I forgot that things were rough back home. Sorry for bringing that back up." I rub the side of my forehead out of reflex—a trait shared with my father.
"It's fine," Alys tried to sound casual, but I had good hearing. She failed. "To be fair, I-I'm the one who brought up Reon, so it's, uh, how do you say? Water under the bridge?" She licks her dry lips and looks down at her tablet. "James, can you show me how to use the discount? I can't figure out how to do it."
I silently thank her for the change in conversation. After shaking off my anxiety, I motion for her to pass me the tablet. When in my grasp, I removed the previous order and swiped her over to the offers section before turning the screen over so she could see. "Thank you," she said as she angled the device so her brother could order.
As they were sorting their food out, I heard my number get called and leave to retrieve it. I trusted them enough not to steal from me, so I left my backpack behind on the seat. I thanked the man at the counter and took the tray of food back to our table. On the way, I was at long last able to notice just how many people were staring at my temporary companions; most of them, I realised, had likely been doing so the entire time.
I sit down and look back at the watchers; most of them pretend to look elsewhere upon spotting me, but some were brave. I scowled as I ate, the expression caught by the duo, who then glanced around. "It happens," Rhys said with a dismissive shrug, "makes me feel like a celebrity."
"I don't like it," Alys said, her talons digging into the sides of her tablet, "at least at work most people are too busy to stare. Too busy to be rude." The middle of her snout was scrunched up in a frightening display of aggression. Once again, I was reminded of a predator about to pounce.
Without meaning to, I lent back.
"But..." And just like that, the tension left her body. A puff of smoke wafted from her nostrils as her eye flickered to the world outside the nearby window. "This isn't our world, so... so I can understand why they'd be staring."
I didn't say anything. She was being shockingly mature, more than I would have been given the circumstances.
Their meals come, and we all eat in relative silence. There was still an oppressive air of misery among our group, though—one that could be physically felt. Determined, however, to try and salvage the situation solely for her sake, I looked down at what Alys was eating and smiled.
"Stereotypes aside," I said jovially, placing my chin in my palm and my elbows on the table, "how is it?"
She looked up, the shape of her sleek maw allowing me to see pieces of tomato and batter crumbs sticking to the sides. After licking her lips free of excess food, she scoffed. "I think... they need to stereotype harder, actually," was her equally mocking answer. "This is great, but next time they should bring me a fresh harvest of tomatoes and a whole chicken carcass."
The air lightened just a bit. I was glad she was at least playing along with me.
"You do work for a fast food restaurant. Maybe you could be a consultant for reptile-kind?" I pinched my chin in mock-thought. "Any other fantastic ideas, boss lady Alys?"
She smirked. "I think that—this isn't for me, of course--they should let everyone with blue scales get free food. Imagine the exposure they'd get; it would definitely be worth the very minor cost."
"The very minor cost?" I question with a raised brow.
She laughed. "Yes. Very, very minor. Or are you saying I'm fat? That would indeed be quite rude of you to do!" Alys raised her head up high.
"Of course I'm not!" I let out an exaggerated gasp. "But, lady Alys, I am surprised you were able to fly up high enough to drop your tablet. Surely you'd need a crane of some sort to hold your regal self?"
Rhys let out a loud laugh, as did Alys, who took the barb on the cheek, not seeming offended in the slightest. "Exactly! That's why I couldn't catch the tablet before it hit the ground—the straps were too tight!"
"Of course, of course, I completely understand now," I nodded sagely.
It was a nice moment, one I was grateful for, as it allowed them to forget the people who were still staring. They hadn't stopped, and they wouldn't stop. But that was life: a blend of bad and good, great and terrible. Without one, the other would mean nothing; emotions would lose their depth without opposition.
I glanced at Alys, whose laugh was like that of a predatory bird and whose teeth I felt belonged in a cheesy horror movie. She drew attention to herself without meaning to—fear, suspicion, and revulsion. It would have been in my best interest to avoid her after that day, to spare myself the trouble of standing out, to save myself.
But... I didn't care; in that small moment of peace, I didn't care how others thought of me because, for the first time in a long time, I was content with myself.
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