Just as I’m exiting my apartment, I see Luca marching toward his car with his gym bag. Shit, I’d almost forgotten he was getting back this morning, and of course that asshole would work off his jet lag lifting weights instead of sleeping all day like a normal person.
I wave at him, but he doesn’t see me, so I raise my voice and give a high-pitched hoot at a decibel I know he can hear. He turns his head up, giving me a curious look, and then rolls his eyes. ‘You’re up early.’
I shrug, moving toward him. ‘Can I get a ride to the gym?’
He looks moderately surprised since I almost never request to go. He usually has to drag me, kicking and screaming, but heshrugs and nods, so I jog over and hop into his car. He gives me another curious look, but he shrugs it off as we make the drive in both figurative and literal silence.
He doesn’t say anything until we’re climbing out of the car. That’s when he knocks on the roof for my attention.
‘Okay. Enough. What’s going on?’
I frown. ‘What? Nothing? Why would something be going on? I’m fine. Everything is great!’
He doesn’t even sign back. He just gives me a look that screams, ‘Bullshit.’
I sigh and drop my forehead to the side of the car for a second, then look up at him. I should tell him about the clinic, but I don’t want to admit that’s what’s got me all upset, so I go for something else. ‘This whole thing with Cielo is…weird. Different. I’m happy to have him, but I don’t know if I can be good enough for him.’
Luca’s brows lift in surprise. ‘Not good enough for him? How?’
‘I’m a mess,’ I remind him. ‘I can barely take care of myself?—’
He scoffs, cutting me off as he comes around the car and tugs me into a one-armed hug. ‘Anyone hurts you, I hurt them,’ he reminds me. It’s something he’s been telling me since he outgrew me. And, if I’m being honest, even before then.
I elbow him with a grin and step out of his annoyingly strong grasp. ‘Thank you. But it’s not that. I’m just…’
‘Hurting yourself?’
He means being self-deprecating, and yeah. That’s pretty much it. I don’t bother answering. Nothing he says can make my self-esteem better, and he doesn’t exactly know how to find a monster therapist so I can actually and properly offer Cielo help.
So instead, we walk into the gym, and I scan my pass as Luca leans on the counter and gives a flirty wink to the short, dark-haired guy working the computer. Luca has always been great at both speaking with and understanding body language.
It never earns him any meaningful relationships, but he’s never short of hookups, even in a small place like this.
I leave him to his flirting and stop by the water station to fill up my bottle, grabbing one of the free towels that Quilliyn always has sitting around. That’s when I see the three guys that Cielo has made friends with. I knew I had recognized them before. They work out with Luca sometimes and have picked up some ASL gym lingo from him.
I want to hate them on principle—they’re the doppelgangers of the assholes who bullied the fuck out of me in high school. But they don’t do more than give me a raised wave and turn back to looking at themselves in the mirror.
I try to dislike them, but I can’t. Not when they’ve been taking very good care of Cielo as he ventures out more on his own. And while I’m slightly terrified of being replaced, I also know that Cielo needs more than just me. He needs a family, just like I have.
I give them the bro-nod before walking over to a treadmill, setting it to a zero incline and a very sedate pace. I’m not much of a runner. Like I said, I hate sweating, and moving too fast always makes me wheeze like a deflating balloon. But a brisk walk sounds like just the thing before I have to go to my appointment.
Off to the left, I see a flurry of blue hair and realize it’s Quilliyn. He was the first Vyastil I’d ever really gotten to know. He’d come into the shop a few times when he first arrived in town. His English was stilted back then—almost aristocratic-sounding.
But he’s adapted really well, and he was always kind. He answered my questions and gave me some insight into whatthe Vyastil were like. I asked him what kind of sex toys they preferred, and he laughed his way out of the store.
A few weeks later, he came back and explained that they didn’t really do sex, although their bodies still craved it. We’ve talked a few times since. Mostly about Vyastil, who are curious about what their bodies might be capable of.
And I’m still working on a few sketches.
I sigh heavily, and my mind moves back to Cielo. I wonder if there is any way for him to deal with his trauma. I never really liked school, but right now, this whole thing has me contemplating applying to the university to get a psych degree so I can help others who were mistreated like him.
All of this has made me wonder if Cielo isn’t the only Vyastil here on Earth that has been ripped away from his family, beaten half to death, and then banished from ever returning.
“I know you.”
I startle, so lost in my thoughts that I hadn’t realized someone had jumped on the treadmill next to me. Glancing over, I see a vaguely familiar guy with blonde curls and dimples staring at me.
“Um,” I start.
