“So…what are your intentions?” I asked while plucking petals out of the corolla, one for each of the five words. Or to be frank, one petal for one finger Eli would lose if Eislyn ever suffered because of him.
Watching Eislyn stroll toward us, he said, “Her.”
The foliage hung above her like a halo. Her white, loose pants billowed, revealing her petite figure, the currents of air rattling the pile of thin branches in her arms.
Eli’s tone took on a lulling note, full of reverence. “I don’t want anything else. She’s my only intention.”
“Awww.” Amari pressed her flower-gun to her chest, strands of her russet hair lashing at her prominent cheekbones. “I want that too. Not the baby”—she shuddered—“but the way you look at her when you say that.”
“Ooh, these are perfect,” Tarri exclaimed as Eislyn passed her the twigs—firm yet flexible to serve as a frame for the headdresses.
Eli spread his legs in an invitation, causing Eislyn to shake her head, her high ponytail swaying with the movement, but she lowered between his thighs, leaning against his chest and flushing pink when he tucked her under his chin.
My throat thickened at the affection between them, at the effortlessness of it.
“How are you holding up?” Eislyn asked me.
“I—” I sighed through my nose. “I’m not sure.” How could you be when your world had been turned upside down? “I guess I’ll be okay. I am okay.” I swallowed the lump obstructing my speech. “No, I’m—” Scratching my forehead, my nails raked lines along the faint wrinkles betraying my age. “I’m somewhere in the middle.”
“That’s good.” The dimple in Eislyn’s chin deepened. Eli kissed her temple, and her flush intensified.
“The better question is howyou”—I stared at her currently flat belly—“are doing. And how we didn’t put two and two together for so long.”
“I’m only a couple months along so far,” she admitted, caressing her stomach. Eli beamed at her so lovingly; the two of them radiated bliss. “We restrained from telling anyone beforewe were truly sure everything was okay. And I just finished all my tests yesterday.” He peppered her forehead with kisses, and she blushed beyond limits. “We’re in the clear.”
Their happiness was so beautiful. I longed for anything remotely like it. “Congratulations.”
“Thank—”
“How you do this every morning, I have no clue,” Jayla cut me off. She had to have learned a trick or two from Ava for them to appear so completely out of nowhere. As oblivious as ever, Jayla plopped down right onto the daffodils scattered on the blanket, her complexion a far healthier shade than the paleness of yesterday. “Throwing up is exhausting.”
“You look better today.” Eislyn scanned our friend, her innate tendency to care for others rising to the surface. “And it’s not that bad as long as I steer clear of certain foods and smells.”
If appalled could be a person, Jayla would be it. “Thank you, butno. I want to live my life, not make lists of what I should avoid consuming. That’s why no dicks are allowed access to my vagina, period.”
“You don’t even like them to begin with.” Ava lowered beside Jayla, the former’s brown hair woven in an intricate braid around her head—a crown of sorts, one she refused to take off. “How do you think I got you? That’s my main advantage over half the population: I’m dickless.” She unclasped the buckles on her backpack, the leather matte, the edges and corners gray instead of black, and fished out a beat-up lunch box and a water bottle. “And you would feel even better if youatesomething.”
Twisting a lock reminiscent of a fire, Jayla glared at the offered crackers and then shoved the box under my face. “Please tell me you want these so I don’t have to eat any.”
My lips curved up. “I’m with Ava on this.”
“I hate you.” Picking up the snack, Jayla scrutinized it like it had personally insulted her, but in the end, she shoved thesquare into her mouth. Her forehead creased and smoothed out repeatedly while she chewed and then rushed to chug down a third of the water bottle. “These are…more than tasteless. They’re not even salty. They’re anabomination.”
Ava planted a kiss on Jayla’s shoulder. “If you finish them, and the water too, I…” she trailed off, whispering into Jayla’s ear. The latter immediately began devouring crackers one after the other, glaring at anyone who dared to chuckle.
Finishing weaving a number-whatever wreath of daffodils, Tarri asked, “Does anybody know how Malaya is doing?” Without waiting for a reply, she crowned Jayla, wishing her a sleepless night and giggling at her glower.
“She’s great.” I rubbed a petal between my fingers until it seeped a sticky substance. “I think she might have a crush on Nara.”
I had a suspicion that Nara, Damia’s daughter, had caught Malaya’s eye months ago, during our little trip to their compound. So when Malaya had expressed her wish to leave after she’d given birth to the child, who was to say no? If she wanted to seek refuge at Damia’s, she was more than welcome. Not many women wished to raise the children fathered by theirassignedpartners from the cities.
“She totally has.” Snickering, Amari tied a yellow flower around another, finishing off her headdress and setting it atop the pile of five completed ones. “My friend visited me recently and said he’d caught them both sneaking around and holding hands.”
“Oh, no.” Tarri’s blond hair swayed around her pointy jaw, the strands sheared right underneath it. “Zion is com?—”
“Are you talking about me?” Zion piped up, striding right toward our group. “Because if you’re discussing my cock”—he patted his crotch—“then I agree, it is a thing to admire.”
Groans enshrouded our group. But the collection of mutters only caressed Zion’s ego, and heprancedthe last steps to our blanket.
