Boundaries

Tish: floppy hairs

{Tish}

Of course, now it was a little awkward, exactly what I didn't want to happen. Conor kept glancing at me, and I was sure that Ralph suspected what we had talked about. Ralph rested his tablet on the end of the bed, and we watched a movie; I hadn't realized just how hard Conor found fictions and lies until watching a film with him. Ralph would pause anytime Conor seemed confused and explain whatever it was that Conor found strange. The sudden relationships. The fictional ability for cars to flip, roll and catch fire. He wanted to know when they took breaks or slept or why no one ever ate anything. I hadn't really thought of movies like that before.
"Are you hungry enough to eat again?" I asked when the movie credits rolled. "I think the cafeteria is still open."
"You did burn quite a few calories trying not to die," Ralph laughed.
"I could eat," Conor admitted. "Whatever you bring is fine."
"No caffeine and no chocolate, got it," I replied, popping out of my seat. "Ralph?"
"Do they have tea in this cafeteria?" he questioned. "I would love a glass of tea."
"I can do that," I agreed and headed out into the hall.
I hadn't expected to spend my whole day in the medical wing; it was strange that the sun was setting through the window. The hunters I did see in the halls gave me a wide berth, and I tried not to think about the fact they probably wanted to poison me too. I didn't have Conor's tolerance; I would definitely die.
My phone went off just as I was stacking broccoli in a bowl. I rolled my eyes and tried to balance my tray with one hand.
"Yes, Sasha?"
"Come down to Gayle's office," she told me.
"I'm in the cafeteria, do you want me to drop everything or can it wait?" I questioned.
She sighed, which I thought was a touch dramatic. "It can wait a moment. Be here soon, please."
When she hung up, I shoved the phone into the pocket of my jeans. I hadn't noticed that Boyd had sidled up to during my call. I moved, hoping that he was just interested in broccoli and not conversation. I was wrong.
"Hey," he said, stepping in my way when I tried to get around him. "I'm sorry about your friend."
"Conor's not dead," I informed him. "He's fine. He's recovering. No thanks to any of you."
"Tish, you always said 'if I get bitten, I'll shoot myself, so you don't have to,'" he questioned. "What the hell happened? If anything, you seem happier as a werewolf."
"Conor's pack doesn't hunt people," I said. "Frankly, they're more normal than you and I could ever be. And maybe I realized how messed up it was that we were killing people because of who they were, not what they had done. I'm pretty sure now that I was the monster before and more human now."
"That's crazy," Boyd scoffed. "We save lives."
"Except when we don't. Except when we're killing people who were turned against their will and are trying to make the best of it. People who were born this way." I realized I was espousing exactly what Mel had told me a month ago. "Sasha cut Grant open and monitors his every move. How is that not barbaric?"
When Boyd didn't have an answer, I stepped around him to hurry out of the cafeteria. I didn't want to be everyone's go -to for reasons the hunters were wrong. I knew the more people realized how I felt, the less safe I would be. The less safe Conor and Ralph would be. I didn't know what would happen then.
Sasha was waiting for me impatiently in Gayle's office.
"You could have eaten," she told me.
"This isn't for me, it's for Conor," I replied, setting the tray down. "What was so important?"
She handed me two watches. As I reached for them, she pulled the glasses off my face.
"Here," she said. "A token of goodwill: one for you and one for Conor. Grant tells me that he could tell that Conor was ill from his heartbeat?"
"Yeah, it was erratic," I agreed, strapping one of the watches to my left wrist.
"And I know from previous tests that we can tell when you're about to shift using your heartbeat as well. Don't take it off. Copy?"
"Loud and clear," I responded. "Thanks, I think."
"Grant isn't at risk from substances," she said. "But Conor came dangerously close to dying today. The same could happen to you in the field, from either side apparently. What morons the hunters are."
"Sure," I said, feeling that Sasha should include herself in that group.
I picked up the tray and left the room and back up the stairs. I could hear Conor and Ralph talking and I slowed, wondering if they were talking about me. It was juvenile, I know, to eavesdrop, but I wanted anyway to make Conor's and my friendship less awkward. Or at least, that was what I was going to tell myself.
"I'm not going to tell you what to do, Conor," Ralph was saying. "It's not wrong to act on your feelings for Tish. But if you want my advice? You're a better person with Tish than you were with Stefa. Stefa made you shut us out and I hated that."
"Stefa didn't make me," Conor protested.
"Well, being around her did then," Ralph countered.
The elevator dinged behind me, making me jump and whirl around guiltily. Grant exited the elevator as Ralph and Conor stopped talking.
"I wondered," Grant said, gesturing at my face without glasses. "I enjoy that my mother seems to take yours and Conor's well-being under far more consideration than my own. I'm not mad at you," he added quickly. "I just think it is a little ridiculous."
We walked the rest of the way to Conor and Ralph's room.
"Where have you been?" I asked.
"On the roof. It's quiet up there."
Conor brightened when I entered and set the new tray down in front of him. I handed the tea to Ralph and took a small plate of cake for myself.
"You eat a lot of cake," Conor noticed.
"I have the metabolism of a small country," I replied. "I like cake."
"What's the watch for?" he asked.
"A gift from Sasha," I explained, showing off mine as well. "Tracks our heart rate and our location, I'd imagine. Better than glasses, sorry Grant."
"I don't have a heartbeat," he shrugged. "And I don't shift shape."
Conor slipped it on his wrist, clasping it together awkwardly.
"You should sleep in my bed tonight," Grant suggested. "Hopefully you'll wake up less poisoned this time."
"I hope so," Conor laughed. "And thank you, Tish. For dinner round two."
"No problem," I told him. "So how about you eat and then we'll give Ralph his bed back. How are you doing, Ralph?"
"Hanging in there," he yawned. "It's been a trying day for sure."
"You know, Ralph was telling me about when he met Mel in high school," Grant remarked. "You don't happen to have any pictures, do you? I really want to see high school Ralph and Mel."
"Tish, toss me my phone, would you?" Ralph asked.
I pulled it off the charger and tossed it over the bed to him. He unlocked it, scrolling for a minute.
"I had a couple older photos on here," he said. "Mel is a little sensitive about our wedding photos; I still think she looks beautiful, but she tells me I'm biased. Anyway, her parents sometimes post a photo on our anniversary...Here."
He paused, a wide grin spreading across his face. Then he showed Grant and passed the phone to Conor. I craned in to see.
Ralph was much shorter in the photo, looking awkward and lanky in his ill-fitting suit. But the grin our Ralph had on his face matched this young man and his floppy yellow hair that refused to be held back by gel. Mel had let her long black hair down in curls past her shoulders. The tiara was simple but beautiful. The dress was actually a cream dress suit with a string of pearls around her neck that matched the tiara.
"She wanted this strapless dress we found and then realized that she'd only be wearing it once, so why get something so expensive," Ralph explained. "Also it was December. My mother pulled those pearls out of my grandmother's jewelry; up until then, I was certain she hated Mel. But that tiara, that necklace... Both of those had been in my family for decades. Turns out my parents had been hoping for a girl, but a girl I was not."
"Mel's wrong, you two look so happy," I said as Conor passed the phone back. "Even with whatever your hair thinks it's doing."
Ralph chuckled. "You're not wrong about that.
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Sorry about the radio silence; I have been traveling for work and Sunday/Saturday's are our busiest time.
Thanks for reading!