3.1 | six ways to sunday ✓

06

"YOU'RE A DISASTER." Sahndri looks around her receptionist desk and then directs her gaze to June, whose chest feels tight with amused shame. June had given her co-worker the week off in hopes of doing a good deed, but those five work days were the longest hours she'd experienced (Julian's a terrible substitute). Friends from their sophomore year of college, June had met Sahndri when the other girl had given her tissues to stop her bloody nose.

("Tilt your head downwards," Sahndri had said with a wrinkled nose. "Shit, there's a lot of blood—here, take some more."

June had giggled. "Thanks," she'd murmured. "M'June. You?"

"Sahndri.")

With thirty minutes until her first appointment, June adjusts her white coat and sits down on the couch. If she were a normal human being, her guardians would be with her, but Julian and Clarke decided to take a day off, and so June was by herself for her work day. Growing up with those two had always been nothing short of an adventure; through blueberry-scented marker stains on the couch to mental breakdowns in high school, they've been present in every single memory. She likes to compare the years she's lived to pictures on vintage film: an endless amount of faded color combined with three different fingerprints.

June was required to attend therapy as a child to fully absorb the fact that she would have to live without her real parents, but it didn't really matter to her—if she had Jules and Clarke, then everything would be okay. Everything would be fine. Loving them came easy, a collection of lanterns against the night sky, and sometimes, June fell asleep inside the velvet cocoon of Julian's wings.

"Don't remind me," June grumbles, pulling a pen out of her hair to scribble down a list of medication she needs to pick up. "How was your week without me?"

"Peaceful." The receptionist tilts her glasses down her nose, jet-black hair roughly chopped and ending at the curve of her chin. "Went grocery shopping, planted some tomato plants, and read two books."

"You hate reading."

Sahndri sighs. "I didn't say they were long books, June. I just said I read two books."

She feels herself grin. "Yeah?"

"I read Calvin and Hobbes to my nephews," Sahndri explains. "And I've concluded that Calvin's a pretty badass kid. What about you? Anything new?"

June tilts her head back and laughs, feeling warmth course through her veins. She's never been too good at talking to regular people who don't have The Sight—she'd always thought it was too big of a difference to overcome—but now, she's proud of how far she's come. Slight pinches of guilt tickle her side when she realizes every now and then that Sahndri can't see what June does (especially when her guardian angel accompanies her to their outings), but it's for the best that her lips remain sealed.

She hums. "Someone asked me out after I put down his dog."

Silence. "What the fuck."

"I mean, he was kind of rambling, and I thought it was pretty cute, but he said he'd call and he didn't and I just don't know if I came off kind of weird—"

"You're rambling, June, please slow down—"

"—and we hugged? Does that even make sense? He hugged me, and it was really, really sweet, but it's been, like, a whole week, and my phone hasn't received a single notification from him—"

Sahndri gets up and slaps the side of June's shoulder, making the latter jump and yelp in shock. "What was that for?"

The receptionist cracks a wicked smile. "For not listening to me," Sahndri says, short hair swinging around as she leans against the couch. "Weston, right?"