Mated to a Human

☽ 2 ☾

The last time I saw Abby was over the summer. She was very tan as though she'd been on vacation, and she was with a guy I may have seen around town over the years. They were holding hands walking along the lake, and I was standing on the waterfront deck of the Lodge.

She laughed and smooshed her cheek into his shoulder. They stopped at the lapping edge and stared out and the water for a few minutes before Abby peered over her shoulder, and I ducked fast. I searched for the glint of an engagement ring on her finger but didn't see one.

"So, are you two excited for school tomorrow? What are you going to wear?"

Perry pokes his fork at his plate. "Clothes."

"Well, that's a relief," Dad says.

"What about you?" My mom asks Harper. "Do you have a special outfit planned? Maybe that cute sweater with the stripes?"

She shrugs. "Probably my black jeans and a black shirt."

"I do miss the days I got to dress you two myself. Oh, the tiny overalls and jackets and rain boots. How all three of you would match for those first-day-of-school pictures."

"Gross," Perry says.

"Whatever. It was adorable, right?" Mom looks at Dad across the dining table, and he promptly agrees. "So we finalized all of the food vendors today. There'll be kettle corn and cotton candy and candy apples. They actually dip the apples in chocolate and caramel so you can choose which one you like, and there are all kinds of toppings. I think it's so fun. And if any of you three want to volunteer for the festival, it would be a big help."

Dad points his fork at us. "I'm sure they'll help out. Right, guys?"

"Sure," I say, the only one to respond.

"That's why Mia is my favorite."

"You're not supposed to pick favorites," Harper mutters. "That's in like every parenting book ever."

"You could be a favorite too if you woke up before noon and brought your brother to his lessons on time."

Harper makes a face. "We were six minutes late."

After dinner, I hang out in my room on my computer, and I finish an introductory assignment for one of my classes under the gentle light of my standing lamp. Today has been slow without work, and tomorrow will be as well. There isn't much due at the beginning of the semester, so I've agreed to go with my mom to the Society in the morning to assist with the painting of directional signs. As expected, she wants everything to be picturesque for the festival.

Not long after I settle in bed, it starts to rain. Nighttime is the hardest for me. My head wanders to places I wish it wouldn't, and I can't stop it.

I hate how I function, how I feel and think. I despise my fears and pray to be oblivious, but once I know, there's never a moment of not knowing.

My own existence skulks in the shadowed corners and hides under my bed. I sit against my hoard of pillows and urge myself to not tear every last one open. Then the worries come: I'm wasting my life, I'm unsuccessful, I have no friends, I'm destined to be alone.

I rush through my morning routine the following day so my mother and I can get to the Laboratory early. Perry and Harper are off to school, and with Dad at the Lodge, Teddy has the house to himself.

Marianne, who runs the museum, is there when we arrive. My mother gives her a quick good morning as we settle at the work table where the festival plans remain strewn about.

"Here, Mia," Mom says as she lays wooden arrows on the floor — the only surface uncluttered. "Let me grab the paint. I also got some gold glitter, so maybe you could paint a few leaves and dust them with it? What do you think?"