Page 87 of Ordinary Secrets

“How did you sleep?” Arella asks after we brush our teeth. I’m grateful that she had one of those free toothbrushes from her dentist for me to use.

“I slept well,” I lie. “Dreamt of you,” I lie again. It’s not like I can tell her that I didn’t sleep at all. I’d have to explain that I have a special body that doesn’t need as much rest as hers does. That will lead to explaining that I have other special characteristics and abilities she’s only seen in movies. Then she’ll run away screaming, and I’ll go to z-prison for exposure.

Five minutes later, I’m slouched at Arella’s kitchen table with a plate of waffles in front of me as she flips some eggs over in a pan.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Yep,” I lie for the third time this morning, and I hate myself for it.

When can I stop lying to her? I’m not okay. Not even a little bit. My mind is racing with thoughts I can’t reel in. I’ve been having breakfast with Arella almost every morning lately. But today, it feels... different. It’s hard to put into words. The only way I can describe it is that I want to do this today, tomorrow, the next day, and every day after that. Knowing that I can’t crushes me.

“You’ve been quiet this morning,” she says.

I have to think about my response because I want whatever I say to her to be the truth. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really. We don’t have time, anyway. I have to be at a video shoot at nine. I also need to run home to grab some clothes first.”

With the hot pan in hand, she scoops an over-easy egg onto my plate. Then she continues cooking her egg. I’ve never told her that I prefer my eggs runny. Throughout our many mornings together, she’s figured it out. She’s been making eggs for me like this ever since.

“What’s the video for today?” she asks as the toaster pops.

“It’s a cover of a Justin Timberlake song. This shoot was supposed to be a while ago. It’s been rescheduled twice.”

Arella slides a piece of toast onto each of our plates. Then she gives me three pieces of bacon and two for herself. Once she settles across the table from me, she says, “Should we leave right after breakfast?”

I pick up my fork but don’t poke anything with it. “Actually, babe, I was thinkin’ you should stay home.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you were sick yesterday. Don’t you wanna rest?” I hate myself. I can’t stop lying. Her being sick has nothing to do with why I think she should stay home.

“I’m recovered now. Besides, I always go to your band stuff with you on my days off.”

And I’ve been thoroughly enjoying it. During band rehearsal, she usually lounges on the sectional, working on her baking blog while I work. During video shoots, she helps out the crew any way she can. At our shows, she’s in the crowd, singing along to the words. I like having her around, and people ask about her whenever she’s not.

Besides me, the person who misses Arella the most when she’s gone is Liz. Those two get along like fuzz on a peach. Once they’re together, it’s hard to separate them. They’re constantly bonding over their mutual love of boy bands.

Last week, I caught them laughing hysterically about something. When I went over to ask what was so funny, neither of them would tell me. They were probably making fun of me, but I don’t care. It made me happy to see my two favorite people laughing together.

I don’t know what happened after I left Arella with Liz and Emmy at the July Fourth party, but ever since, Liz hasn’t made a peep about my strange attachment to this Ordinary. If anything, she’s been encouraging it by inviting Arella out to everything our band does. I wonder what changed Liz’s mind. I’m sure she still thinks that having a relationship like this with an Ordinary is bizarre. Hell,Ithink it’s bizarre.

Throughout history, Zordis have always been friends with Ordis, but never lovers. It’s not that we see them as less than. It’s that since we can’t reproduce with them, we just biologicallydon’t see Ordis that way. At least, weshouldn’t. So, why do I? Is there something wrong with me?

I finally stick my fork into my perfectly cooked egg. “How ’bout I come over tonight after the shoot? If you want, I could stay the night again?” Hearing those words come out of my mouth sounds as unnatural as it feels to say them. Typically, I’m packing Arella’s laptop for her because I can’t get her to come to work with me fast enough.

My girl is too smart for her own good. She narrows her eyes at me. “What’s therealreason you don’t want me to come? Yesterday, you didn’t care that I was contagious, and now that my symptoms are gone, you’re insisting that I stay home?”

I sigh as I set my fork down. Neither of us has eaten a thing yet. “The treatment for this video was written way before we met. There’s stuff I’m gonna be doing today that I think would be better if you didn’t see.”

“Oh... like, what kind of stuff?” The way she hesitantly asks that question tells me she already knows.

“Like, you know . . . stuff—with another girl.”

She hides her discomfort behind biting into her toast. “Who?”

“She’s an actress. Bailey. I’ve never met her.”

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