Every morning, a yellow plate of pastries was left outside my door, which I ignored.
On the fifth day, however, the smell of pancakes reached into my dreams. I woke to the waft of maple syrup. When I rolled, squinting, my eyes fixed first on a plate of fluffy golden pancakes on my side table, then on the bee girl perched on top of my dresser.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” she chirped.
I bolted upright with a gasp. “You’re… you’re in my room!”
She used her toe to point to the steaming offering. “You didn’t eat my muffins.”
My mouth gaped open.
“You didn’t eat my scones.” Eva scowled and hopped off the dresser. “I’m not making you croissants. They’re too hard.”
“What are you—?”
She cut me off. “I’m sorry I broke your nose.”
When she pulled her braid over her shoulder like that, she exposed a whole new bouquet of freckles. I caught sight of a honeybee nesting in her hair. More stirred on the windowsill. Atwinge of discomfort flicked through me. Intellectually, I knew bees were a vital part of our ecosystem, but they bore a remarkable resemblance to wasps, and wasps were, objectively, assholes. I still hadn’t forgiven the mean little bastards for an incident last spring when a nest in our campsite fell from its branch and the hive blamed me for its shoddy construction. I was sore and swollen for days.
“Can you not do that?” I asked, pointing to where Eva was swirling a finger through the air. A honeybee chased it, seemingly entranced by the movement, until finally it landed on her nail.
The bee girl cocked a brow at me. “What, this?” She blew on the honeybee, coaxing it into flight again.
I stiffened. “Yes.”
“She won’t hurt you.”
“If you’re nice,”the monster finished, remembering what she’d said before. It shared none of my apprehension. On the contrary, the beast seemed delighted, even charmed, by our visitor.“You really should have eaten her muffins.”
“Don’t say it like that.” I realized too late that I’d spoken the words aloud.
“You talk to yourself. A lot.” Eva snatched up the plate, thrusting the fork in my face. “Now. Eat this and forgive me.”
A honeybee perched on her knuckle. I swallowed a biting retort and snatched the fork and plate from her, annoyed at her dogged persistence and somewhat perplexed that she seemed somewhat insulted. I hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings, but I also wasn’t interested in being her friend.
The monster flicked me.“Be nicer.”
I sighed. Maybe it was right. At the very least, fighting off her aggressive hospitality was getting a little exhausting. I didn’t knowif her stubbornness was a farm-kid thing, but it was becoming clear that she wouldn’t relent until I accepted an olive branch.
The first bite of pancake melted in my mouth. The sweet and salty contrast of butter and syrup made my eyes roll back a moment. I barely hid a groan.
Eva smirked, but she didn’t say anything, just held out a glass of milk to wash it down.
“You are very persistent,” I muttered, stabbing another bite.
“Sure am.”
I nodded to the bees in her braid. “What’s the deal with that, anyway?” They followed her everywhere. It was deeply unsettling.
Eva pursed her lips, seeming to consider. “I’ll tell you, if you answer a question.”
I paused with a bite in my mouth, surprised. “What question?” I garbled.
The monster heated my cheeks.“Would you chew your food?”it gritted out.“You’re embarrassing us.”
“Your touch. It… hurts things?”
I swallowed a too-large bite. How the hell had she figured that out?
