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"You don't look used to it."

Before I could answer, a laugh cut through the space, sharp and knowing. Carlos was watching from across the room, flanked by his usual companions. He had that way of holding himself that suggested he thought the collar around his neck was a fashion choice rather than a mark of ownership. In Aconche, humans lived far longer than on Earth, and their development stretched across centuries. Some of them never quite grew. Carlos had the brain of someone who'd been seventeen forever.

"Look who's back," he announced. "Lucca's here for another day of barely holding it together. How many times did you check the door already, hoping Daddy would come back?"

The two girls with him giggled. One was blonde, the other had black hair cut short in a style that probably required weekly maintenance. They looked at me like I was entertainment, something to make their daycare attendance more interesting.

"Just ignore him," Otto whispered, but Carlos was already moving closer with that predatory walk.

I didn't flinch. I kept my arms loose at my sides, refusing to give Carlos the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, I looked him up and down, making a show of it, and said, "Are you going to act like a textbook bully all day, or is it just for the new kids? We're all adults, man, get over it."

Carlos grinned wider, his eyes flicking to Anya and then back to me. For a second, I thought he might escalate, but instead he just rolled his shoulders, letting the tension slide off. "Chill, Lucca. I'm just keeping things lively. Place gets boring when everyone's a rule-follower."

His entourage smirked, but they didn't add anything. Maybe they were waiting to see if I'd give them more to chew on.

"Well, you're the life of the party," I deadpanned.

Otto snorted. Carlos shook his head, mock offended, and wandered back toward his group, arms draped over his friends' shoulders like he was some kind of king.

That was what I couldn't stand. It seemed like pet school all over again, forever. Some pets here were old—like, sixty years old—and still behaved like this: cliques and gossip. I wondered if I'd have to put up with this shit for my entire life.

The bell cut through the air before Shn appeared in the doorway to the art section. She was the kind of Aconchian that you couldn't look at just once. Shn stood a full head taller than Herosm, who was already gigantic, her bronze skin glowing, her eyes enormous and violet. Two horns arched from her forehead, thicker than O'li's and ridged along their length, curving up and then back in an elegant way. She wore a long tunic in muted olive and brown.

She swept her gaze across the room, taking in the clusters of pets, the scattered toys, the mess.

"Morning, everyone," she said, her voice almost a purr. "Art lab is open. Today we're exploring textures. If you get paint on your clothing, it's your owner's problem."

A ripple of laughter ran through the room, and I realized I wasn't the only one who found her intimidating in a way that was almost comforting, like a strict mother. Pets began rising from their various positions and moving toward the art area. I pulled myself up last, my legs already stiff from sitting, though it hadn't been that long. Or had it? Time felt liquid here, stretching and compressing without logic.

The painting station sprawled across one whole wall, with tables set at human height and small stools that would leave us looking up at any caretaker who approached. Supplies were already laid out: brushes in many sizes, paint pots in every color, and textured additives in clear containers. Sand, what looked like crushed shells, something that might have been dried plant matter from O'li's planet. The paper was thick, almost fabric-like.

Other pets were already grabbing supplies, some excited. It was the only chance for many of them to do art. Some owners didn't care about doing things like that with their pets. A girl near the far end was already mixing colors, creating a purple that reminded me of a sunset.

Me, though? I was seconds away from crashing out. I just wanted to go home.

"Lucca." Shn appeared beside me, her height making me crane my neck to meet her eyes. She held out a brush. "Everyone participates, little one."

I wanted to say something like, "Uuuugh, fine," but that wouldn't look good in my report. So I just nodded, compliant.

I dipped my brush in the blue paint, then held it over the paper without making contact. One drop fell from the brush, landing on the paper with a soft splat.

Chapter 10. Lucca

My eyes drifted to the wall where a clock hung, its display showing symbols that should have meant something but didn't. The pet store had taught us to read Earth time, a skill that was supposed to help us integrate better with our owners' schedules. But Aconchian time operated on different principles. Their two suns created days that didn't align with Earth's twenty-four hours, days that stretched forever, while their base-twelve system made every calculation feel wrong. The symbols swam in front of my eyes, meaningless. How long until O'li came back?

"That's a nice color."

The voice startled me. A boy had settled onto the stool next to mine, his freckled face open and friendly. His curls looked like the kind you had to spend actual time with a curling iron every morning to get, brown with hints of red. He was younger than me, maybe twenty-two or twenty-three in Earth years, with the kind of eager energy that suggested he hadn't been a pet for long.

"Thanks," I managed, though all I'd done was let paint drip onto paper. I guess anything could be called art, and if it was art, it meant I was participating.

"I'm mixing textures," he said, showing me his work. He'd created something that looked like a beach with sand mixed into orange paint. "My owner likes when I bring art home. Says it brightens up her laboratory."

"Your owner has a laboratory?"

"She studies mineral formations," he said, adding crushed shells to yellow paint with careful precision. "Sometimes she lets me help sort samples!"

"Mine does botanical work. I help with watering sometimes. And measuring."