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I lean into her touch and savor the sound of my full name on her tongue. I can’t remember the last time anyone called me by it.
“If this is a dream, then I will see to it that we never wake.” And then I kiss her with all I have within me.
Chapter Ten
Ana
“Tell me more.” Ezo’s eyes sparkle as he props himself up on his elbow and gazes into my eyes.
After having sex for the second time this morning, I prepared us a little breakfast in bed. We just finished eating our bagels, eggs and bacon, all of which delighted Ezo, especially the bacon. He’s been grilling me about my life and all things Earth throughout breakfast and now afterwards, both of us lounging against the pillows.
“I don’t know. High school was just…high school. People tend to separate out into groups. The cool kids. The nerds. The band kids. The jocks. The emo artist types.”
“Like castes,” Ezo nods. “You must stay with your own kind.”
“Huh. Maybe a little. But I don’t think it’s like you’re talking about.” Juliet told me about the whole Draci caste system and it sounded medieval.
Ezo frowns so I continue. “Like me and my sister. She was in the popular crowd. But I wasn’t.”
“What caste were you in, then?”
I bite my lip. “I’m not sure I really fit in anywhere. I had some acquaintances. And Juliet and Giselle were always my friends but Giselle was a cheerleader, so she was always busy and Juliet checked out for a while after her sister died… I tried to be there for her but she shut us out. So for a while I didn’t really have anyone.”
“You were lonely.” Ezo reaches forward and brushes a stray lock of hair back from my face.
I nod.
“I was lonely for many years, too.”
I wait for him to say more but he doesn’t.
“Anyway,” I try to lighten the subject. “It got better after high school.” I decide not to mention college. “I got a job, discovered my own sense of personal style,” I smile and lift up a lock of my pink hair, “got a group of friends and started to enjoy life.” In part because my sister went to Stanford and for the first time in my life, I wasn’t living in her shadow.
“Tell me about it. Enjoying life.”
I giggle. “I don’t know, going out to see movies. Going to concerts and listening to musicians play.”
Ezo’s eyes light up at that. “I have listened to Earth music. It is very strange.”
“Oh really? What’d you listen to?”
His brow pinches and he looks towards the ceiling. “Let me see if I remember. I listened to many prominent Earth musicians. The female with the spear. I think she was British. Or her name sounded like Britain?”
I think for a second. “Wait, do you mean… Britney Spears?”
His eyes light up. “Yes! Her.” Then his brows furrow again. “Though I do not understand why she wanted to hit the baby repeatedly.”
I crack up, laughing so hard I can barely breathe. “No,” I try to say between heaving breaths. “That’s not what it means.” But then I imagine Ezo listening to Hit Me Baby One More Time up on his spaceship and go into a new round of laughter.
“Here,” I say, jumping up from the bed and plugging my phone into the little speakers on my desk in the corner. “Let’s listen to some music that’s actually good.” I scroll through my music and push play on my favorite Civil Wars album.
Ezo listens intently. His head nods along to the beat of Barton Hollow. “I like this. Draci musicians make very different kinds of music.”
Now I’m insanely curious. “What kind?”
He tilts his head. “Our music is mainly percussive, with occasional vocals. It is usually only the males that sing, as part of the mating customs.”
“Do you sing?”
Ezo looks down at the bed. “Not for a long time. At least not where anyone could hear me.”
I bounce on the bed. “Come on, you have to sing for me! Please?” I attempt my best pouty face.
Ezo laughs and gives in. He sits up on the bed and averts his eyes from me. “I only know the old Draci hymns.”
“That’s great, please, I want to hear.” Doesn’t he get that I want to know everything about him?
He’s clearly nervous as he swipes his hands on his thighs and stillrefuses to meet my gaze, but then he begins to sing. It’s quiet at first but his voice gets stronger and stronger as he goes.
And it’s the most beautiful, haunting thing I’ve ever heard in my life.
He singing in his own language and it’s a strange combination of hissing noises and hard, sibilant consonants. But his voice is a pure, gorgeous tenor that raises the hairs on my arms and makes my heart ache.
