Page 2 of Those That Don't Exist
I glance back up at the window to the room that holds the demi-Fae female for a brief second before ignoring the call and scaling down the building to the grounds below. I’ll be in trouble for not answering but I want a little more time in the city. If I took the call he’d know I was finished at the hospital and would order me home. I want to get a drink first, then I’ll head back and give him the update.
CHAPTER 2
AURORA
13 WEEKS LATER
Istare at my reflection in the mirror on my desk and straighten my shoulders.
Deep breath in, deep breath out.
With a thought, I vanish the red entirely from my hair. I’d let myself have a few minutes this morning without the glamour I’d been keeping in place since I got out of the hospital last month.
I missed my natural colour terribly but couldn’t face going out in public with my very distinguishable hair. Whilst I love the rich red and orange tones it made me too visible.
My stomach knots at the thought of people spotting me today. I knew they’d either come right up to me and ask me questions, or they’d start talking about me with their friends. You’d think with over half the population being Fae, or at least demi-Fae, people wouldn’t gossip in earshot of the person because chances are they have enhanced hearing too. But it didn't seem to stop them.
I run my fingers through my now brunette waves, this tone much less noticeable. Don’t get me wrong, a new hair colour wasn’t a great disguise but I couldn’t change my whole appearance. This, at least, would stop me from being noticed at a distance. That’s my hope anyway. If I could just slip throughtoday, attend my classes without overhearing anyone talk about me, it would be a whole lot easier.
Deep breath in, deep breath out.
I knew people were going to talk, the university wasn’t very large and my best friends had already warned me that the news story had gone viral through the student body when the accident happened. Fatal car wrecks weren’t all that common and I was part of this school afterall, so naturally the story fueled the gossip vines for several weeks despite everyone being at home for the summer. I knew my life for the next little while would be filled with pity looks and people talking about how sad I must be. I just wished they’d leave me alone. Hence my attempts to blend in.
I pull on my power again to soften the green of my eyes and remove the shadows sitting underneath them. Their natural vivid shade reminded me too much of my dad, the one who hadn’t recovered from the car accident
Breathe in, breathe out.
At least my magic came effortlessly once more. The copious amount of drugs the doctors had given me after the accident had made it hard to pull on my power at all. For weeks it was sluggish and thick beneath my skin. Thankfully its fiery lightness returned quickly.
My bones had healed within a month too but the rehab on my muscles had been long. I’d had to learn how to walk again with how shattered my leg had been. At least my Fae side meant I wouldn’t suffer any long-term side effects from being so smashed up.
I apply a coat of mascara to my lashes and take a final look at my appearance before rolling my shoulders again. I can do this.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
I stand from my vanity, which doubles as a desk. Books, as well as cosmetics, litter the wooden surface. For the umpteenthtime this morning doubt over my outfit choice creeps in. With blue jeans, a black tee and a baggy forest green zip up hoodie I was going for unremarkable, and yet put together enough that people would think I wasn’t still a complete mess over my new orphaned status.
Of course I’m still grieving, I’d lost my father, my only remaining parent, a few months ago. I’d been close to death myself and had gone through a slow and painful recovery to get my body back to functioning normally. I just didn’t need everyone on campus to see how broken I still felt inside. I’d managed to get signed off as healthy enough to return, both physically and mentally, and I just wanted to finish my final year and graduate so I could figure out what came next. It's a lot of pressure to put on an outfit but I think it works.
“Rory, Bree, come on, we’re going to be late!” Claire shouts up the stairs, making me jump into action. Moments later I hear Bianca, known by all as Bree, exit her room, which is next to mine, and make a dash for the stairs. I grab my satchel and head out, following Bree’s long willowy frame, and her perfectly round and secure blonde bun, down to our open plan living space and kitchen area.
Claire stands leaning against the front door with her arms crossed. She looks at the two of us as we scurry to get our shoes from the rack and get them on. Even with her freckles and her cute button nose she looks pretty irritated. Claire hated being late but would refuse to leave without us.
“Sorry,” I mumble. Bree simply whines and continues dashing about, looking for a matching pair of shoes. I’d lived with her for two years already and had given up pretty quickly asking her to be tidy. So had Claire. We just accepted that yes we might find a trainer in the food cupboards or books and ballet notes strewn over every surface. She was on a dance scholarshipand whilst she could remember a million routines and was super strict with her fitness she couldn’t keep her stuff organised.
Claire is the total opposite, a complete neat freak, and I was somewhere in between so I guess we balanced each other out.
Eventually Bree finds some matching shoes and we leave our house. It’s a three bedroom, split over three stories. A small student dorm house which we’d been allocated on our first week starting the university. We were best friends who found we liked living together so we just hadn’t moved out from one term to the next. I’d known Claire since we were kids, our parents had been friends, so we’d see each other a few times a year. She’d grown up here in the city where as I lived with my dad on the other side of the mountains in a small town.
We hadn’t been close but as university approached and we’d applied to the same place we started talking more and more. By high school graduation we were video calling and messaging daily. We’d met Bree at the university open weekend the winter before we started. We immediately clicked as a trio, so we signed up for a house together and never looked back.
Our place was in a great location. The university itself was right in the centre of the city, the main campus buildings were set around a huge grassy square which butted right up against the river before it sprawled out across several streets to the south with a student cafeteria, gym, several bars and additional classrooms amongst the innermost accommodations.
It was primarily made up of old buildings, repurposed from the centuries old manufacturing industry that had sat along the south side of the river. Even though the area was built for functionality the buildings were all matching sand brick and detailed in their design. Large windows covered the converted warehouses - now our lecture halls - and the surrounding housing oozed historical charm with cobbled streets and a mismatch of two and three-storey homes.
The university was only set up after the war forty years ago when the population here boomed. The industries that previously had residence in these buildings had moved closer to the coast - we were only a mile or so inland but as the city grew the boats that carried the produce got forced to the coast by bridges being built. The historic setting is part of why I wanted to study here, it feels steeped in stories.
And it's close enough to the coast that on some mornings, when the breeze is right, you can smell the salt water. I loved those mornings.
