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“Nope. Seems pretty standard. AKA the best part. What’s so good about being human anyway?”
“Being able to talk to you and our parents outside of a canine form where none of you will understand me?”
“Girl, please. How did you expect your character development to go? No sacrifices? It’s called a hero’s journey. You already ventured off on the call to adventure when you left home. I don’t know who you got for a mentor, but I am assuming you did things correctly and definitely did get one. Challenges happen right before transformation. You’re totally on track.”
First of all, I freaking knew it. Second of all, “What am I supposed to do for atonement and return if I can’t become human again and ‘return’ home?”
“Why would you want to become human again? And, side note, how do you know that where Mom, Dad, and I are is…home?”
My jaw clenches as I roll my eyes off both the questionable chicken feet on my plate and Ollie eating his while listening to a music podcast through headphones hooked up to his phone. “You’re important to me, Alana.”
“Aww.” A dog barks in the background, so Alana snaps an I am on the phone; use your manners at it before her voice softens again. “I love you, too, but we just won’t be able to perceive you, right? We can all still text.”
“And how do I explain to Mom and Dad that they’ll never see me again?”
“I’d say you could show up in your little dog form and make it clear you understand English, but you know how they feel about therapy… I don’t think it’s responsible to make them need more when they adamantly refuse it already.” She hums. “Is faking your death an option?”
The frail touch of a smile tips the corner of my mouth. I knew telling Alana would take this entire situation to the extreme. It almost makes it feel normal. “Sorry, faking my death shouldn’t be an option.”
“Hey. Just throwing it out there. We’re brainstorming.”
“Honestly, I think they’d hate everything about this no matter how I present it. I don’t think they’ve ever approved of any of my decisions.”
“Which is all the more reason to make this one as soon as possible. No more job. No more worries. Access to a community that literally thrives on caring for each other?” Alana’s voice softens. “Just…why are you even calling me? Take it. Take it and run so far away from this place that you don’t even remember what humans are.”
My chest pinches. “I…want to. But you’re kind of a human I can’t stand the idea of leaving behind.”
“Hey,” she soothes. “No matter what happens, I’m always with you.”
“Is that a direct quote, or…”
“More of a cliché that crops up everywhere, from what I can tell, but it’s true. You could disappear into Faerie and never look back, and I would stay on your heels, haunting you with my unsolicited anime facts, until the end of time. I’m in your heart and brain without consent. Ollie might be your soulmate, Brittny, but we’re sisters. Do you really think our bond isn’t just as strong?”
I lift my face to the ceiling in order to keep myself from crying. I’m still wearing my work makeup. I don’t want my mascara to run.
I should really quit my job and vanish into Faerie. I just…I wish I could take Alana with me. She needs to be there, too.
I don’t have any history with Cael that makes it easier to trust his verdict. All I have is a desire to become part of a world where I feel like I belong with a person whose presence makes breathing easier and harder at the same time.
Ollie has made me feel so wanted and loved. He deserves to know he’s also worthy of being chosen in marvelous ways.
No matter what I might have to give up.
This is my eating dog food for him moment. Or…something.
Ollie finishes pulling meat off his last chicken foot bone, and I suppress a gag as he stands with his plate and phone to head toward the sink.
“Ugh,” I whisper.
“Don’t ugh me,” Alana notes. “I am flattered that your love for me is the only thing holding you back from leaping into a utopian society with a handsome man who writes music for you and wants to give you magical powers, but think of it like this…” She takes a breath, training her tone to be very serious. “Faerie…is health insurance. We marry for health insurance. This is your green card, and you don’t even need to pull one over on the government, because—um, yeah—you’ve met the leader of the government, and he sounds lovely. We—you and I—will be absolutely fine. We will figure out the changes and stay as close as we’ve always been while we plot ways to initiate our silly parents who don’t believe in such whimsy. Okay?”
She’s listing all the wrong reasons to make this kind of choice, but that doesn’t stop them from piling high on the pro side. Alana may be the definition of whimsy, but she’s not stupid. I’ve verbalized every reason not to, and she’s validated all the reasons I should.
It’s scary.
It’s like she’s making the decision I have nearly committed to real.
“Okay,” I whisper.
