Aeon {Celestial Bodies Book One}

~ aeon ~

Aeon didn't get out much. A memorable evening in her books consisted of an empty house, decent Wi-Fi speed, and maybe one of those expensive green tea face masks before a solid eight hours of sleep. But she'd been neglecting the integration requirements of her degree, which was one of the core reasons her mother was paying for it. This meant when Aeon was invited to a sundowner by Thea, the woman she shared a studio with, she was given clear instructions that she was to attend or face paying her next semester out of pocket.

America was so broken. It wasn't even the cost of university itself; it was the fact that nearly everyone required parental assistance to pursue higher education, and that meant playing nice with mom and dad long after you were kicked out of the nest. Aeon and Perish had a pleasant enough rapport. Still, she would have appreciated her mother respecting that she was twenty-four cycles old and perfectly capable of judging if a social outing was worth her time and energy.

This one was decidedly not. Aeon had been standing against a cabinet in the kitchen for close to an hour and had yet to be approached for conversation. Thea had greeted her upon arrival, spouting off niceties about not expecting her and handing her a glass of something yellow and bitter, and promptly abandoned her. Despite assertions, Aeon could carry on a conversation just fine, but was she honestly expected to approach one of these strangers and strike one up without having any idea who they were, what they were studying, or who they were interested in copulating with? Was she just expected to stare at them until they gave her something to ask about? Talk about their piercings or tattoos or visibly thrifted clothing?

That wasn't the worst idea.

Filled with newfound determination, Aeon turned to the first person in her immediate vicinity and remarked, "Your hair is showing signs of regrowth. Will you be getting it dyed anytime soon?"

The person she'd addressed, a white woman with her hand curled protectively around the bicep of a poorly-shaven man, turned to her with a frown. She reached up to touch the dark roots of her hair. "Uhm. I guess if I can afford it?"

She said this with a joking intonation, her eyes flicking between the man and Aeon. Aeon suddenly worried she had interrupted a mating ritual of sorts and that the woman felt threatened by her. The man's interest had visibly shifted to Aeon, his throat bobbing as he took a drink and surveyed her with blatant interest. She decided ignoring him and charging ahead with this so-far successful interaction was the best course of action. "I'm afraid I can't recommend anywhere inexpensive. I've never attempted to dye my hair. I worry about long-term damage from the chemicals."

The woman gave her a tight smile, even as her eyes roamed the room. Aeon took this as a good sign and elaborated, "Are you two in a relationship?"

The woman let out a high, strangled laugh while the man shook his head – far too quickly to be polite, in Aeon's opinion. "No, no, we were just chatting. About the latest assignment. Are you studying Modern Literature?"

The woman's expression morphed into one that was much less inviting. She appeared to be openly glaring at Aeon, who couldn't tell what out of her extraordinarily tedious and apolitical dialogue had offended her. People could be so sensitive.

But the man seemed open to conversation, so Aeon turned her attention to him. "No, I'm currently completing my master's in Architecture. I share a studio with Thea."

"I hear architecture is for people who couldn't get into art school," the woman piped up, and Aeon hadn't imagined the venom in her tone. Things were going downhill quicker than she'd hoped. Maybe a joke would lighten the mood.

"I enjoy visual art, but studying it seems like a waste considering employment options," she sipped her horrible beverage. "Kind of like studying how to read books."