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“Mother…”
Mother? This is his mother, so the male must be his father. And Renxel saw them from across the property and what? Tried to avoid them? For himself, or was he trying to avoid introducing them to me?
If I was out for a walk with a… friend and came across my parents, of course, I would introduce them.
“Your mother is upset.”
I tilt my head to the desk, pretending to stare at the comm in front of me. I raise my eyes just enough to see the three of them. Renxel, usually so strong, so self-assured, so downright cocky, looks like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. If the cookie jar belonged to an ogre from my worst childhood nightmare.
“I am sorry, Mother.”
Renxel sounds contrite, but I don’t know him well enough to know if he really means it.
“Explain yourself. You come into town and instead of coming home, you choose to stay here?”
She already said that,I think. But she manages to sound even nastier the second time around. And she definitely sends another glare in my direction.
“I mean, look who they have working here.”
Bingo. I sneak a look at Renxel. If he agrees with her, I swear I’ll jump right over the desk and smack him.
Yeah, that’s a good idea,I tell myself sarcastically. Confront three much larger beings who have an obvious bias against humans. I’m used to it. Sort of. There aren’t many humans in this village. All I could do was be myself and hope that the Kiphians eventually got used to me. Most of them have. At least I thought so, until now.
It happens every now and then. A look, a tone. I pretend it doesn’t bother me, but it can be hard. Sometimes it’s even frightening.
I didn’t feel that way with Renxel on our hike. It was fun. We were just two people out for some exercise, enjoying the fine day and the beautiful scenery. I couldn’t exactly forget that we are different, but looks aren’t the most important thing.
Not that I was exactly impervious to his looks. His icy blue eyes stand out against his gray skin. The tattoos on his arms intrigue me. I know they have special meanings, but I’ve never given them much thought. Now I kind of want to understand the symbols and the traditions behind them.
“Mother, calm down. The hotel is fine. I only came into town for the competition. I didn’t want to… upend your schedule. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t appreciate your attitude. We took time out of our day to attend your competition.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“So you didn’t want us there?”
“Not if you didn’t want to be there.”
“I didn’t say we didn’t want to be there.”
“Well, you’re acting… Never mind.”
Renxel rubs his hands over his face. When he looks up, he seems exhausted. His mother, on the other hand, looks positively invigorated.
“I know you think these competitions are a waste of time.”
He looks at his father, and I realize the man has not said a single word other than to chastise Renxel for upsetting his mother. Does that mean his parents are in agreement? Or is his mother such an overbearing figure his father gave up a long time ago?
“Let’s not discuss the competitions again. Can’t you just apologize?”
Whoops, my mistake. Renxel’s father can speak when he wants to. But if I’ve been listening correctly, Renxel has already apologized several times.
I look up. Renxel is looking right at me, though I suspect he’s just trying not to look at his parents. I try to put a look of sympathy on my face. With some people, no matter what you do, it’s wrong.
When our eyes meet, I smile. His eyes widen. His face – his whole body, really – tenses up. His face and his eyes turn to stone. Inside, I wither just a little bit.
“Mother.”
