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“It sure has,” I answer. “Freja.” I click my tongue. “Let’s get going.”
* * *
Three days. I haven’t spoken to Indigo in three days, and I cannot stop daydreaming about her. I want to put my hands into that white hair of hers and force her to arch her back as I use a toy to fuck her from behind. That, or I want to hold her and let her cry on me. The worst thing is? I can’t decide what sounds better. To be her pleasure, or her comfort and protector. In my wildest dreams, I am both, but in reality, I am neither.
I have never experienced emotions like these, nor am I sure I ever will again. I form a box in my mind, shoving those thoughts inside, before locking it and chucking the box straight into my metaphysical ocean.
As I grade charms student’s essays, trying to clear my mind of all things Indigo, I am grateful to be here. Turtle Island is a beautiful place, but I am glad to have transferred here from Freehold University. After my mother passed away, alongside my infant baby brother, the place I had learned to love was no longer my home. My father moved back to the Scandinavian region of Europa, and I got stuck picking up the pieces of my life. I spent nearly ten years in a cold, lonely ghost town, and now I am here. This island is a fresh start—a new beginning. I want to find friends, and someone who will love me and won’t leave… But for now, I will just find an open bar. Placing the stacks into my ‘completed’ folder, I wait for Freja to fly onto my shoulder before heading out of the office.
The moon hangs high in the dark gray sky as I make my way towards the parking garage. It’s a pavilion covered by solar panels that protects our vehicles from nature. Efficient and effective, I couldn’t have designed it better myself.
Heading to my SUV, a purple prius pulls up to me and rolls down its window. Hold on a second, is that Indigo?
“Hey, can we talk?” she asks, voice shaking.
“Yeah?” I offer. I’m trying to hide the grin that wants to form on my face at the sight of her, but it’s not working. She makes me feel light and giddy, like I could walk on air.
“Hop in.”
I look at her and open the backdoor. I will not fit in the front seat of a prius. Squeezing in, my head brushes against the ceiling.
“Sorry, probably not much leg room for you,” she says and pulls into a parking spot.
Not much arm room either, geeze. There’s something off about her. She looks too… plain. Her bangs are clipped out of her face, and her hair is pulled into a claw clip. All the clothes I’ve seen Indigo don are flowy tops and form-fitting bottoms, with lots of black. Right now she’s wearing a beige sweatshirt with black leggings, and it’s a little odd. There are circles under her eyes, and she’s missing her signature dark lipstick.
“It’s all good,” I respond, looking into her eyes using the rearview mirror. “Are you okay? You’re as beautiful as always, but you look… tired.”
“Honestly? I’m not doing great this week. That’s actually part of the reason I came to find you. That, and I wanted to return your sweater.” She points to the brown fabric I’m sitting on.
“Alright, what’s up?”
She turns back to face me, her cheeks flushed pink. “I have a proposal of sorts. It’s very odd, and I know you’ll say no, but I really think it’s a great idea.”
My brows scrunch together. “What kind of proposal?”
“I would like you to be my holidate,” she says. My heart beats a little harder.
“Your what?” I ask. If I were drinking something, I would have spit it out.
“Holidate. My date for the holidays. A temporary arrangement.”
I shake my head. This woman wouldn’t go on another date with me because of our employment contracts, but now she wants to… temporarily date for the holidays? What the fuck? Alright, Vega, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
“Hear me out,” she starts. “You want me, don’t you? That moment we shared in the bathroom showed me you feel exactly like I do.”
“I want you,” I admit. It rolls off my tongue like the sweetest sin.
“Realistically, we can’t be together, but at least this way we can get it out of our systems before spring semester.”
Unbelievable. I mean, could that be enough time to convince her it’s worth the trouble—that I am worth the trouble? This might be my chance.
“Why? There has to be something else,” I say.
She plays with her cuticles repeatedly, not making eye contact with me. “There is.”
“Indigo.”
“My sister Iris will be home for Gratefulness Week, and I just can’t do it alone. I can’t travel back to Octopus Island by myself. If you went with me, I could show you off, and it would make me feel safer,” she confesses.
