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But then again, I’ve been his admirer for so, so long. I think about all the times I’ve fawned over his artwork. He’s so talented that I’m sure I’m not the only one.
I continue, “It’s a fuck or die kinda thing. I don’t know if you’d be into reading it, so totally skip it, if you want.”
He pulls out his phone, abandoning the box. “Fuck or die? I’m down.”
My smile hurts my cheeks. “It’s a trope. Have you heard of Aliens Made Them Do It? It’s the same thing in this context.”
He’s still scrolling on his phone. “So the aliens are making these humans fuck, and if they don’t, they kill ‘em?”
“Basically,” I say, waving the hanger around as I talk. “But there’s a lot of characterization and plot in there. That’s just the basic trope.”
“I’d like it even if it was just the fucking or dying.”
I bite the inside of my mouth to stop my smile from exploding off my face. He never judges me, and sometimes, most times, it feels like I’ve found the planet with the perfect amount of gravity. Like I’m neither glued to the ground nor floating in the clouds. The perfect in-between.
Hooking the hanger on the rack, I tell him, “Isaac Asimov, one of my favorite authors, wrote this short story called What Is This Thing Called Love? and he totally spun the fuck or die trope in a cool way. But I like it whether it’s cliché or reversed.”
Donnelly leans a hip against the antique dresser, oil painting landscaped behind him. “It doesn’t seem like that hard of a choice. I’d fuck even if it wasn’t a life or death scenario.”
Me too.
“What if the person you need to fuck is your arch nemesis?”
“If they agree to it, too.” He shrugs. “I’d dick ‘em down good and we’d be BFFs for life.”
“What if they don’t agree to it?” I wonder.
“Get my tombstone ready.”
I hate that scenario where he’d die because someone wouldn’t agree to have sex with him. It’s horrible. “I’d agree to it,” I say. “I’d fuck you.”
And this is the moment that Akara Kitsuwon clears his throat at the door.
Also, a major reminder that I am living with many Homo sapiens who walk by this room. And why is the door open? Ah, yes, because Donnelly and I are friends. And we were having a friendly conversation.
Akara looks between both of us, and Donnelly nods. “Boss,” he says in casual greeting like nothing is amiss.
I explain quickly, “We were talking about the fuck or die trope. I was testing out a hypothetical scenario involving an alien species.”
Akara nods slowly like he’s digesting. “Alright, okay. Well…that’s cool, I guess.” He runs a hand through his black hair, probably suspecting unchaste things were happening between me and Donnelly. Especially since Akara is among the Great Secret Keepers of the time Donnelly went down on me. “Uh, I just wanted to welcome Donnelly to the penthouse. All the guys are glad to have you here—frack.”
On cue, Orion barges into the room and nearly bowls over Akara. My dog races, not to me, but to Donnelly’s bed and decides to jump onto the mattress.
“Orion,” I whisper-hiss.
Instead of jumping off, he decides to lay down.
I don’t blame him. “Sorrysorrysorry,” I slur the words together and mush Orion off the bed with a light pat. He at least takes note and hops off. My face is hot. “We’ll be on our way.”
“See ya later, Planet Partner,” Donnelly says.
He is my new roommate. Once I’m in my room with Orion and Moondragon, I find myself with my back to my door in a state of utter starry-eyed bliss.
I’ve never been the girl destined for love. I guess that’s why I should be preparing myself more for the inevitable heartbreak, but in this moment, I just swoon.
DONNELLY’S DAILY PLANNER
FRIDAY, SEPT 28TH
Today’s Focus: slay (toughen up, you have a few hours) and let it all go (homecoming tonight, gotta be on your A-game for Xander).
To Do:
Usual FriYAY school routine to protect X. Leave early for a “long lunch break” (boss already okayed it). Gabe will switch with me.
Meet C.D.
Return in time for Dalton Homecoming.
Notes: Haven’t run into Loren Hale in a while. Success??? Or is he avoiding me too? Mutual avoidance. Feels like a bad thing, idk. Likelihood of seeing him tonight = 99% Welp, bumped into O’Malley at the gym. He dipped in his book of overused burns and told me he saw a corner with my name on it. Guy needs new material.
Meals: no time for Wawa. Grab what’s in the penthouse pantry that no one will care about. (Thatcher’s protein bar, maybe. Farrow’s apples?) May skip lunch. Better to go hungry than be late to Homecoming (See if the Hales will let you have a Pop-Tart later?)
Water: H2O is fire (drink more tho)
