The Star and the Ocean (Book 1 in the Starborn Series)

Chapter Eight

[Content Warning: Strong language]

The two looked at each other in silent surprise. Even May couldn't believe she had said it, but after spending the morning moping in disappointment she knew now wasn't the time to be shy about what she wanted.

"I mean, you can do what you want," she forced herself to be bold. "But I'd really like it if you stayed."

She fumbled with her shoes while Em gaped for something to say.

Throwing the door open, May gave Em one last look and tried not to think that this could be the last time they'd see each other.

"I'm so sorry I have to run like this."

But Em just smiled.

"It's cool. Go!"

And with that, May darted out the door and down the spiral staircase.

At least Em hadn't said goodbye.

***

"Are you sure you don't want to come?"

It took May a moment to realize the question had been directed at her. She had been crouched over her bag, fully involved in unceremoniously flinging her things inside. She snapped her head up when it dawned on her, wide-eyed and flustered..

Bodies pushed around her as she awkwardly took up space right in the middle of the crowded changing floor. They were like a pack of dogs pressing to a gate, ready to run. May could tell they were eager to get moving, some even to the point of casting thinly veiled looks of impatience her way, knowing that Lenaia–their unassuming alpha–wouldn't give the command until May gave her an answer.

She looked up at Lenaia, and at the genuinely welcoming smile on her peachy round face. She also looked at the small contingent of performers Lenaia had managed to round up in what had been no time at all. She was magnetic that way. It was a wonder she wasn't a performer herself. She had an infectious kind of energy about her May quietly envied in others. Sure, May was the one on stage, but she would never be the one to spontaneously whip up the rest of the show's cast into a random night of drinking, dancing and who knew what else.

An invitation like this never happened. The fact that it was happening tonight of all nights, left May agitated. The part of her desperate to re-assimilate, to do whatever it took to slip quietly back into the social fold, screamed at her to say yes.

But against all logic, she screwed up what she hoped was a convincing look of regret.

"I'm sorry. It's just that I already made plans tonight." She wondered if anyone believed her. "Next time for sure though. I promise!"

A low murmur made its way through the growing group gathered by the door, but May opted to focus on Lenaia's effortless acceptance of her excuse and friendly wave goodbye.

Whatever the others thought May wasn't saying–oh, who was she kidding? She had a pretty good idea of what they were whispering about–they couldn't be more wrong.

Slinging her bag over her shoulder and pulling her hood down over her rosy curls, May gave a distracted wave as she slid past her castmates and out into the night. She set a brisk pace and quickly made her way to the outskirts of town. Eventually the steady roll of waves replaced the white noise of civilization. While this would normally be the part of her commute when she started to relax, tonight she was too lost in thought to let go.

What was she honestly expecting to find when she got home? Her stomach tightened regardless of what outcome she imagined. May took a second to remind herself to breathe.