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your pov
We were all scattered on the floor, the journal open between us, its pages smudged with ink and scribbled notes. The worn spine cracked a little more each time I flipped a page. I couldn't keep calling her "kid." She deserved a name, something that was hers. But finding the right one? It was turning out to be harder than I'd thought.
For thirty minutes, we'd tossed names around, some serious, most not. The floor was littered with crumpled scraps of paper—failed attempts, crossed-out names, and doodles Jinx had added when she got bored. I leaned back, marker in hand, tapping it against my lip, staring at the list we'd already gone through.
"What about Rhea?" I suggested, glancing up from the journal, the marker poised in the air like it was some grand revelation.
Jinx, lying flat on her back, let out a snort, rolling her head to the side to give me a skeptical look. "Does she look like a Rhea?" she muttered, her voice dripping with doubt.
The kid, sitting cross-legged beside me, furrowed her brows and shook her head, her small braids bouncing slightly with the movement. I sighed and drew a line through the name, the marker squeaking as I crossed it out.
"Fine. Zaya?" I asked, hopeful but already bracing for the rejection.
The kid didn't even hesitate, shaking her head again, faster this time, as if I'd insulted her by suggesting it.
Jinx chuckled softly, stretching her arms over her head. "You're really bad at this," she teased, blowing a lock of blue hair out of her face.
I shot her a look. "Well, feel free to help, oh wise one."
"Nah, you're doing great," she said with a smirk, lacing her fingers behind her head. "This is more fun to watch."
I groaned, running a hand through my hair. "You try coming up with a name when you're sleep-deprived and half-starved." I flipped through the list again, feeling the weight of the task settle in. Most of these names had been written in the dead of night, the letters barely legible in my tired scrawl. Some were wild combinations of sounds that didn't make any sense, and others were names I thought sounded cool in the moment but now seemed ridiculous.
Then, one name caught my eye.
"Isha," I said, the name slipping from my lips as I stared at the page. It felt... different. Like it fit. "What about Isha?"
The kid's reaction was immediate. Her eyes widened, sparkling with a kind of excitement I hadn't seen in her yet. She bounced to her feet, practically glowing, and turned to Jinx, who had pushed herself up on her elbows, her curiosity piqued.
Jinx tilted her head, considering it, then grinned. "Now you're talking," she said, sitting up fully. She turned to the kid. "Well? What do you think?"
The kid didn't need to speak. She darted toward me, grabbing the marker from my hand, and circled the name with such force the tip squeaked against the paper. She pointed at the name and then at herself, beaming.
