I'm dead?! I guess I did disappear for a hundred years, but I'm still shocked. Why am I dead? How did I die? Is no one looking for me?!
"What's wrong?" RJ asked, eating pizza with one hand and propping his feet up on the coffee table. I handed him the laptop wordlessly. He read the screen and said, "Oh."
"That's it?! 'Oh?'" I shouted. He shrugged.
"I get it. What else am I supposed to say?" RJ grumbled.
He looked irritated now.
"I…" I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. You're right." My apology seemed to fluster him.
"You... you're an Infaniyan too. Maybe you can help me enter the Embassy, prove I'm alive."
"I can't," he said immediately.
All the hope I'd been holding onto evaporated in an instant. "You… why not? Are you banished or something?"
He didn't answer. His name and the flame tattoo running up his arm were clear signs he was one of my people, so why won't he help me? Is he a criminal? Should I be afraid?
"That's not your business. Just know I can't help you." He frowned at me, then left the room.
Time passed. I wandered around the house.
There was a full bathroom across from the stairs, and the kitchen was massive. I'd barely left the living room until now. I did need a bath... and I assumed RJ wouldn't mind. After showering, I put my tattered school uniform back on. I had no money and no other clothes.
I searched online for places that gave away clothes. The closest one was five miles away.
I wiped off the dirt and stains on my skirt, washed my face, and left early the next morning. I arrived right at 6 AM and found five dresses and one pair of shoes in my size. When I returned, RJ was waiting outside. He looked at the bag in my arms, sighed, and walked inside, leaving the door ajar.
The next morning, I changed into a blue sundress with tiny white flowers and brown sandals. It was faded, but clean. When I exited the bathroom, RJ was standing just a few feet away, frowning.
"What's wrong?" I asked. He looked even more agitated now, but there was a flicker of something else... embarrassment?
"...Follow me," he muttered, turning away. He led me upstairs to a room and pointed to the door. "You sleep here for now."
Before I could thank him, he left. I opened the door and gasped. The room was beautiful. A king-sized bed with a pink comforter, a white canopy, lace curtains, a wardrobe, and a dresser. Inside the wardrobe were clothes in my size, and inside the dresser were socks, new underwear, and nightgowns.
This wasn't an afterthought. RJ had made this room for me.
On the bed was the laptop he gave me, with a sticky note that read: "The door locks from the inside."
As I lay in bed, I felt a bit restless. It was comfortable, the best damned bed I'd ever lain on... but... I can't help but worry about what's happened back home.
If everyone thinks I'm dead... then what's the cause?
Did my dad ever return home...
And what is Smoke up to? Would he even remember me? It's only been a hundred years, so I'm sure he's alive, but he must have forgotten about me by now.
I woke up the next day with a plan.
RJ always ordered takeout, even though the pantry was full.
So I decided to cook for him. I made curry and rice, one of my favorites, and fresh-squeezed lemonade.
RJ came downstairs, laughing on the phone. Then he noticed me. The kitchen was spotless. His jackets were hung, the dishes cleaned, and the trash taken out.
"Zai, I gotta go. I have a guest. No, I don't like them more than you, you freakin' idiot..." he laughed, then hung up. "Snowe... you cooked dinner?"
I nodded. "And lemonade. It should go well with the spices."
"Is it spiked?"
I rolled my eyes. He poured us both drinks. "Thanks," he muttered.
"Want to eat together? We could watch a movie."
I tensed. "No... I'll eat at the table."
"Mind if I join you?"
"No," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
He smiled. And for once, it looked peaceful.
The next morning, I woke to yelling. I heard RJ and someone else arguing. I crept down the stairs.
"Wow, it's clean in here. I'm shocked," the stranger said.
"Say it to my face if you have a problem," RJ snapped.
"You usually live like a slob. Do I have to spell it out?"
RJ caught him in a headlock. They both laughed, even as they tussled.
Then the stranger looked up and saw me.
His eyes widened. He was slightly lighter than RJ, with black hair and striking silver eyes. He had sharp, angular features and multiple piercings along his ears, brow, and lip.
"Who is she?" he asked, eyes never leaving mine.
RJ dropped him with a sigh.
"That's Snowe. She's staying here."
The boy fell, caught himself, and flipped gracefully onto his feet, still staring at me like I was some sort of apparition.
"Hey, I'm Zai!" he said brightly.
His aura was the opposite of RJ's—warm, playful, almost glowing.
It was impossible not to smile and wave back.
"Nice nightgown!" he shouted.
I felt confused for a moment, but then my blood ran cold. I looked down. The fabric of my gown was slightly translucent, and I've just been standing here giving them a show, like an idiot.
Heat flooded my face, then I bolted up the stairs and didn't come out for the rest of the day.
The next morning, I baked muffins, hoping RJ would like them. Maybe Zai, too.
Sure enough, they both showed up just as I pulled them from the oven.
"Muffins!" Zai shouted.
"They need to cool!"
"I know how to eat muffins!"
"Thanks for breakfast," RJ said, his tone quieter. Watching.
We stood at the counter, eating in silence.
"I'm going shopping," Zai said casually. "Want to come, Snowe?"
I nearly choked. RJ stiffened. I could feel RJ's gaze flicker between Zai and me.
"You've been cooking, you probably know what we need."
RJ elbowed him. Hard.
"What was that for?!"
RJ didn't answer.
An hour later, I was dressed in pants, a baggy tee, and sneakers RJ had somehow gotten in my size.
Zai waited for me on the stairs, dressed in all black. "Hey!" he greeted. Then his voice softened. "You look great!"
I blinked. Blushed. What was that flutter in my chest?
"Thank you..." I muttered cautiously.
He opened the door for me. As we stepped out, he asked,
"What did you put in those muffins?"
"Just the usual stuff," I replied dismissively.
"Oh, is it a secret recipe?" he whispered.
I almost laughed.
"No," I answered while trying to keep from chuckling.
"Then tell me. I'm curious."
Zai's insistence left me flustered.
Why does he care so much?
"Butter, oil, vanilla, nutmeg—"
He gasped.
"That's it! I knew there was something different!" he exclaimed with a grin.
Zai then looped his arm through mine.
He touched me so easily, as if it were natural. Part of me was still scared of being touched... but Zai's presence is so calming that I feel at ease.
"Go on, what else?"
"You must really like muffins," I noted.
"Nah," he said with a sly smile. "I just like hearing your voice."
There was a slight flutter in my chest... his reply was so unexpected, my brain was having trouble keeping up.
Zai was still talking,
"I like blueberries. Maybe you can use those next time?"
I nodded. He beamed like I'd given him the world.