Page 42 of Eat My Moon Dust
I wriggled happily. “You know me so well!”
Siatesh jumped down from the shop’s roof, where he often sat and wrote comms to his siblings. His lustrous black mane crashed around his face with a chorus of thuds like snake tails, golden stripes glowing in the sunlight. He turned his yellow eyes on me, closing his holotab, and crouched over the lunch cooler.
“You said he’s taking the day off?” he asked, withdrawing a sealed bowl of shilpakaari ceviche.
I lowered a couple squares of chocolate into my piping hot chili. “Mphm,” I confirmed, tongue curled around the corner of my mouth in anticipation as I stirred. Siatesh and Omi exchanged a glance, and my stomach jumped. “Why?”
I blinked up at them innocently. Omi let out a puff of air, her eyes growing wide.
“Youdiddo it, didn’t y–Why am I asking? Ah course, ya did!”
“Did what?”
Siatesh glanced between us as Omi brushed the shavings of hair from Mr Sayeb’s shoulders. “Congratulations on your new coil, Tinsley.”
I choked on that first scorching spoonful of lunch and bolted upright. “Wait, he used them?”
A glint of observant interest caught in Siatesh’s gaze. “Used what?”
My pulse spiked, face turning cherry tomato red. After I’d bolted from the hangar the day before, I hadn’t let myself dwell on the panties I’d shoved into Hunar’s hands. I thought he’d be angry with me and throw them out. If I was being honest, it stung a little to think that was his most likely reaction.
So instead of worrying about something I’d already thrust into the world and had no control over anymore, I’d done my usual thing. Meaning, I’d kept myself so productive that there was no time to think about it. I’d gone down to the playfield where Wade and his team were building booths, then checked in with Imani about designing wrapping paper. I’d even tracked down Marcella’s unit number and gave her a report. She was perplexed but amused and already halfway into a bottle of universal wine.
Then, when I had no one else to message and I found myself staring at Hunar’s comms like a psycho, I’d cleaned every nook and cranny of my bathroom with a spare toothbrush.
“I, uh, gave him a pair of–” I glanced at Mr Sayeb. He was watching the stars as they caught the sunlight, bobbing to and fro amongst the pink leaves. So instead of saying it out loud, I pointed to my crotch with a sheepish grin.
Omi gave me an approving grin. “Sly girl.”
Siatesh blinked away and cleared his throat. “We saw Bajora walk Hunar’s spats to school this morning. With all the confusion surrounding your relationship, I suspected your clever ruse had become genuine. It surprised me to see you this morning, truthfully.”
“Oh, it’s… it’s not real,” I admitted, hands falling into my lap. “But Zufi was on to us, and I couldn’t think of anything more convincing, you know?”
Siatesh’s mane swirled thoughtfully as he set Omi’s lunch on her worktable. Mr Sayeb stood, and I helped him to his bench to be surrounded by stars, offering him some chocolate. He took a square and looked up at the display.
“I promise you, it’s real for him,” Siatesh warned, taking a broom from Omi to sweep the floor without a word. She sat, opened her lunch, then pointed her bident at me.
“Encoiled men go through a lot of changes, Tinsley. They get obsessive, territorial–”
“Protective,” Siatesh suggested.
“Needy,” Omi hedged.
“Attentive.”
They gave each other a teasing look until Omi’s face broke into a bright smile.
“The point is, Hunar can’t help it. He’ll see you as hispriyabecause yaarehispriya.Even if his mind knows better. So just take good care of him and communicate clearly, okay? Coiling requires a lot of trust.”
I nodded, the responsibility as heavy as an anvil in my stomach. I stood by why I’d offered, and even if Siatesh was wrong and Hunar wasn’t in my coil, I already felt a sense of emotional ownership over his situation. I didn’t want his family to get kicked out of the colony, and if this dumb fake dating act wasn’t cutting it, it was my job to decide how far I’d go to help them stay.
“He’ll need more,” Siatesh added as an afterthought.
I nodded slowly, eating a chunk of chocolate. I felt a lot less self-conscious now that my friends hadn’t teased me for making an immature or brash decision. “How often?”
Siatesh weighed the options. “Every other day, perhaps? He’s not well, which means he’ll be far more desperate to appease the hunger. I suggest keeping an extra pair with you when you’re together.”
“And his tendrils might reach for you without him knowing,” Omi added. “Scares the spirit right outta me sometimes.”
