Evie had a tray of almond croissants. Though they were fresh from the oven, by the time they reached the library on the OSU campus, they were room temperature. The broomstick skirt swished around her as she walked into the study group room.
Cheryl, who was a sturdy junior, jumped up as soon as she saw the tray of food. She didn't even ask permission. She snatched one and chomped.
"Guys," she called. "These are so good."
Vera, who was a waif and a vegan, said, "Rude much?"
They could have sat on chairs, but the group of twelve college students sat on the floor. Evie preferred a cushiony lounger, but since everyone else was happy to spread out on the floor, she joined in too. It was a peacock of colors among the group, purple, blue, bright yellow, fire orange. But though the colors varied, the style was the same. The sides were shaved to emphasize the rainbow colors growing from the top. The group introduced themselves and Evie went to the task of memorizing names for people who would disappear from her life in a few weeks.
Rowan said, "The line-up I have is Menace opening with Cup of Life."
"Do we want to open with Cup of Life?" Cheryl said. "It's a powerhouse encore number. It would be better as a closing song."
Otis said, "Cup of Life is a high-energy, pick-me-up kind of song. It will get the audience on their feet."
Rowan looked at their iPad. "Prince Nianzang's birthday song was Get It Up. I think we should close with that."
"Cup of Life, then Get It Up as the closer," Cheryl said. "I Like to Move It, Move It as the opener."
Evie stared at Otis. She didn't mean to. She hadn't seen someone with African ancestry since the Civil War between PC and the West in 1865.
Otis said, "I'm a foreign exchange student."
Evie bobbed her head. "I could tell. Anyone with demon blood could never be born here."
Otis growled, "I don't have demon blood. Not all black people have demon ancestors."
Evie was pretty sure they did. And it was faint, but she could smell the odor on him. Ren would know if he was inkanyamba or impundulu; she could never make herself care enough to listen to Laoshi when he talked about designations. She launched toward the tray and munched on another croissant.
"My lineage papers are green," Otis said.
Rowan waved a hand in the air. "Mine aren't," they sang. "They're yellow."
Brantley grumbled, "No one checks lineage papers anymore."
Rowan smelled as human as all the PC citizens. Evie's leg thumped against the floor. "What did you do?"
"I'm non-binary."
Evie's only experience with binary was with computer code. Not only was he free of demon blood, he most definitely was not an android.
Otis grumbled, "Rowan doesn't identify as male or female."
"But you are male," Evie said, eyeballing the chubby guy in a T-shirt featuring a D20 and a dragon. A mysterious garment as well. She could smell the testosterone all over... them.
"It's about attitude and feeling," Rowan said, using their hands to emphasize the words. "I was forced to wear blue as a child and male was printed on my lineage papers, but I don't identify that way. I feel comfortable in silky underwear." They pressed a hand to their heart. "I'm in touch with my emotions. I'm also fine if some calls me him."
Rowan's smile was like Evie's, bright and carefree. Evie's cheeks pinched up around her eyes as she returned it.
"Rebel," she teased.
"It's not a joke," Otis said, his lips pursed.
Brantley put a hand on Evie's arm. To Otis, he said, "She's been sheltered."
"Yeah, everyone here is sheltered," Otis said.
"If you don't like it here, why don't you go home?" Evie said.
To Evie, it was a serious inquiry. He was from USW and was free to return to his home. Why in the world was he studying in America, PC?
But Otis took it as an insult and growled, "I'm making a difference. I'm teaching you empty-headed PCians to open your minds."
"If you want to open someone's mind, you should be nicer," Evie said.
Again, Evie was serious. She'd spent hundreds of years trying to convince people without using her pheromones to open their hearts to demon bloods. Pastries and smiles were the most effective tools she'd uncovered.
But that wasn't how Otis took it.
Cheryl put up her hands. "Be nice, guys."
Rowan said, "I take issue with the term guys."
Which then started a minor war over guys as a gender-neutral term verses guys forever being associated with male genitalia and a whole history of language was explained as six different members debated that point.
"Oh god," Brantley said, showing all in the room he didn't belong there.
Taking Brantley's groan personally, Vera said, "It's degrading."
"You think you're opening people's minds by arguing about guys?" Evie said.
"The two of you belong together," Otis said to Brantley.
"Evie doesn't mean anything by it," Brantley said.
"Brantley, Otis isn't trying to be mean," Evie said, her curls moving as she shook her head.
"I'm trying to be mean," Otis said. "I don't like you."
"But I like you," Evie said, batting her lashes over her large eyes, her lips pouted and her chin quivering.
"Oh god," Otis muttered.
"I like you," Rowan said, coming over to Evie's side and putting an arm around her.
"Even if I think arguing about guys is stupid?"
"Especially because you think arguing about guys is stupid," he said, snuggling into her.
Evie reached for the tray of croissants, offered another to Rowan. Rowan's eyes twinkled behind their glasses, munched down. The two played thumb wars and giggled.
"See?" Evie said to them. "My way works much better than pickets and flyers and arguing."
"I write letters to Congress and have a blog," Rowan said. "Have you tried any of those things?"
"When I first came to this country, I tried to talk to leaders, but white men always spit at me." Evie lowered her voice, "I—I can't fight anymore."
Though the rest of the group was happy to ignore Rowan and their new guest and go back to arranging the Halloween Banned Music program, Brantley never shifted his attention from Evie.
He said, "Where are you from?"
"Jesus," Otis swore.
Cheryl, who was taking notes on her iPad, said, "No one in this room is an enemy. We shouldn't fight among ourselves."
Evie said to Rowan, "When are we going to listen to music?"
Vera clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes.
Otis said, "Leave the idiot at home next time, Brantley."
YOU ARE READING
The Lamb and the Gray Battle
FantasyEvie has spent the last 575 years on the North American continent, now called America, the Pure and Clean. She smiles, volunteers and makes cakes and pastries for her neighbors, hiding away her demon blood. She wants nothing to do with her estranged...