Mystery Lake

[48] Break Fast

Joel's sleep schedule had already been wrecked by college. A smattering of late classes mixed with very early ones, along with trying to match up with Jess's schedule as well. And plenty of late nights that were definitely on him because of a random YouTube find or some other relaxing distraction. Sleeping a full eight hours or more was not even a luxury of weekends or most breaks lately. Even those scant hours were destined to vanish as soon as he found work between classes. Jess advised him to avoid that extra load until next semester.

Despite the yielding, body-consuming comfort of the pillow and the sheets, Roxy still found stiff crunchies in her neck when she fluttered open her eyes. These were followed by the sensations of absolute tenderizing all through her. Yesterday had beat the crap out of her, from the emotional to the physical. She was hesitant to lift herself out of the sheets and peel her way back into another day. The fairy bastards were just gonna throw more at them—probably worse, probably more than any of them could handle together. An inevitable dog pile of those assholes. Just try to get some more sleep, but she was awake, and the storm of thoughts building up around her head wouldn't let her just sleep in ignorance.

Joel found it sharply silly to listen to people his age and younger complaining as if they were already halfway into the living tomb of a nursing home. How were they ever going to survive the rest of their lives? This morning, Roxy felt at least some shade of that sentiment, even though she knew she would recover. Can't complain about it, just have to press on.

More of her body popped than she ever expected to feel shifting. It was cold away from the sheets and the cozy comfort of snoozing Jake. She didn't wanna let go, but she really had to pee, practically as bad as Rydia claimed. Hopefully her kidneys and bladder and whatever else weren't converting anything living, undead, or fantastical into her piss. She rotated her head around a few times and felt some of the feminine mystique slough off with the dried spit and weird boob ache that clung to her.

A truly epic, multi-layered, multi-toned, prolonged belch announced the final ghosts of last night's marvelous meatloaf. Still not enough to wake up Jake, fortunately. He deserved as much rest and separation from the torments of their trip as possible. At least his expression was calm and serene. Hopefully no secret signs of nightmares.

Roxy tried to cling to and disentangle herself from the threads linking her to dreamtime thoughts. Running, caves, being attacked, and then a snippet of what happened at the lake. She could surmise that this was supposed to be something sent by her mysterious friend. Princess Asha something, according to the lubricated leprechaun.

But she had no idea what this cryptic message was supposed to say or signify. Maybe it wasn't even intended for her, but the princess lady also fell asleep and had her own nightmare, which carried through their combined unconscious. Nothing more than that. If that was anywhere close or far from the mark, her currently quiet companion didn't elaborate.

Roxy's ankles gave regular pops, as if that were their primary purpose rather than holding her up. Proper amounts of stretching soon silenced their complaints. Despite all these battle scars, Roxy would say she felt good, especially if that reassured the others' concerns about her.

Going through the morning routine helped drag her back to normalcy. She sympathized with the Jess of the past who lamented Joel's affections before she showered and took care of everything else. Looking at herself made everything feel gross and awful. This girl was a wreck. At least brush her hair out; at least let her shower a bit; at least let her pee; at least do some good tooth brushing with the cheapie toothbrush Joel brought with him in case it got lost.

At least let the early hour slip away and let some dignity fill its space. The most horrifying part was discovering secret blemishes, irritations, and even pimples that marred her tinted skin. If she got splashed again with the remaining lake water, would that be like a reset button for all the alarming decay she accumulated in just a few hours of sleep? Probably not worth the consequences, but then she already double-dipped when she saved Jake from the water.

Eventually, Jake went through the same early wake-up routine she had. She greeted his progress with mint-toothpaste kisses. Jake had the same concerns she did about how gross his mouth and body felt, though Roxy tried to play it off as sexy to a skeptical frown from Jake. Her boy managed a restrained but prolonged belch of his own, bringing a glow of embarrassment to his features. Roxy had to grade her on a masculine curve compared to her usual, slightly inflated numbers as a girl. Jake protested with a pout but promised to work on a better one soon.

They orbited around in the bathroom and shared the shower, but without the intimate probing of last night. Jake opted for gray pants and a yellow top despite the clashing coordination, noting that it was the most comfortable of the options left by the communal clothes pile.

Roxy considered wearing the dress a second day, especially since the old lady promised that they could wash anything they wanted in their utilities. But it carried more than just traces of dirt and grime from the day past. Something fresh was needed—something that hinted at better times to come. She sifted through what was there for inspiration.

Plenty of things offered possibilities in combination. The pinks and creams were a friendlier lot than she would've expected earlier. Instead of colors and styles, she focused on textures and feelings. And that led her to a very specific combination of a mossy green tank top style outfit but with extended sleeves. It probably had some fashiony assony name. This was good enough for her.

A rather rugged and extended pair of shorts paired well with it, along with black leggings. The morning felt so chilly that Roxy wanted a little guarantee of warmth. Wearing girl's clothes didn't bother her in the least. Seeing the shape of her groin before sliding up the shorts didn't stress her out. This was just as much Joel as Roxy happened to be.

It was a weird hoop to slip her mind through, but the different contours of thought didn't even occur to her until she really focused on it. The way she talked to herself and used words in her head was another obvious difference, but that didn't bother her either.

What did bother her? That these fairy fucks were going after people she cared about. That they might not stop for any reason except the end of them. That she couldn't do much more than cut holes in reality and throw things in them. The princess summoned something after the trucker bastard, but she didn't reveal what it was or how Roxy could beckon it as well. Lamp shading this with conspicuous thoughts did not open her up.

With Roxy, though, she wondered what breakfast might be before the momentous lunch date. Her friend also played along with the prospect of a double date with Jake and maybe one of the other couples so that Rydia wouldn't feel lonely. Although Roxy noted that perhaps privacy would be their preference.

That didn't mean that they couldn't explore downtown; everyone seemed to have their favorite little businesses they wanted to check out during daytime hours, except for Roxy. Maybe she could find something suitable.

Joel had never been too keen on shopping; it was an obligation and a necessity. Get groceries, make sure you have new clothes, pick up whatever else you need, and that was it. Joel understood from Jess that shopping could be social—roaming around with someone else, talking about their interests, seeing what style appealed to them, filling some free time, and having some fun. He had a good time with her, but then he could have a good time anywhere when it came to Jess or Jake.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

This morning found Eugene propped up at the kitchen table as if he had been left there the whole night long. He promised that he had actually gotten a couple hours of sleep. More than two at a stretch. Which was good because he did take naps, as they well knew. He had a lustrous brown suit hanging on the wall with a silver bowtie. His hair looked as if he had made an earnest effort to comb out the wild silver streams before binding them tightly behind him. He checked it every few seconds to make sure it was still neat, or at least still there on his head.

He also unnecessarily checked his phone's every messaging service possible, even though no new notifications showed up nor did any sounds or signals. It was quietly endearing to see him so flustered. Roxy generally hoped that the big lady treated him right. They knew so little about that mysterious duo. They had no guarantee that they would even show up again, let alone at the agreed-upon time and place. If that happened, Roxy made a private promise to herself that she would take the guy out on a date.

Jake would understand. Also, it occurred to her that she was wearing a combination of clothes surrendered by Alyssa for the sake of the group. That was not her intention. The fit and overall size led her to that intuition, and the muted tones ruled out Layla as the provider. And a casual awareness of Jess's wardrobe meant that it couldn't be hers either. Hours ago, showcasing all that on her body would've been a dangerous choice; maybe it still was, but she hoped that the girl's response would be closer to subdued feelings of flattery than anything else. Maybe a bit too optimistic, but she really didn't want to plop back to square one.

Alyssa, however, was still asleep. It was early, though not earlier than when Duncan had introduced them to his wild plans. Of course, Miranda was already up with a mug of foamy hot chocolate while the Tritons were sipping from steaming mugs of coffee. The busty brunette had on something that looked adventurous yet feisty and traditional. It was an easy guess for Roxy that it came from Maggie's closet.

Layla had a small, weathered puppet perched on her shoulder like a ceased-to-be parrot, flopping and shifting around with her every move. Despite the condition of her cohort, she carefully corrected it and kept it in place without falling off. Chiara had been put to work summoning ingredients from a large pantry and organizing them according to the old lady's requests, even though it seemed that Chiara had been the one to request this duty. That gelled with how exuberant Barry was around the dorm to organize the spices and sift through the fridge at the end of each week.

Roxy provided the entertainment for the setting, making much of her ensemble and appreciating what tights could do. She did her best to relieve the stress that poor Eugene was under. She could hear his stomach gurgles from halfway across the kitchen. She offered up her phone playlist for casual morning listening, and the old lady deftly synced it with a device in the living room area. The speakers weren't evenly distributed, and some of them were downstairs, playing to an audience of none before opening time, but Roxy's quickly curated, mellow set provided a pleasant background melody that everyone approved of. And now she had something to offer car playback later.

In between the semi-coordination of breakfast, Miranda teased and tried to hint at her desire to see if her mimicry ability allowed her to consciously choose who to pattern herself after. It seemed quite obvious to Roxy that she was alluding to taking after Alyssa. Probably the best bet. However, Roxy could envision a multitude of ways that could backfire. This was supposed to be a new, nicer, and happier Alyssa, but none of that felt guaranteed. The girl would probably have been better off with Chiara's subdued flavor instead. Roxy considered just telling her that, but the enthusiasm on the girl's face for the challenge made her hold back.

When the moment came, Alyssa crawled out of her bedroom area, lightly shared with Miranda, to witness so much attention focused on her. Her clothes were worn. Miranda murmured about her splendid qualities. Warm faces welcoming her, and more. It should have been nice; it should have all been a boost, but Roxy was beginning to understand the solitary cat-like qualities of the girl. She tried to smile in the same way she had done with Roxy's jokes. But it faltered and fell into jagged unease. She didn't get mad, she didn't shout, and she didn't tell them to get out. She just left, hurrying to the basement and the vault. Shit. Setbacks.

Roxy knew she needed time, but Jake was already making plans to check in on her. It likely wouldn't help, but she wasn't going to shoot it down. Alyssa would probably come back up when she smelled breakfast. She couldn't stress about that.

But Alyssa stayed down there all alone for a while. Well, Miranda made a trek to the basement, but she returned shortly thereafter with not much to say. Not very encouraging.

Breakfast was set out with Layla still balancing her little shoulder friend. Unfortunately, she misjudged her position when placing the ketchup, salt, syrup, and other condiments. The little thing somersaulted forward onto the table. Instead of flopping down in something messy, it landed right on its feet like a little acrobat.

Roxy was amused by the coincidence, but then she frowned as the little puppet straightened up all by itself, stretched its arms and legs, and waved at the group. Her first instinct was to swat it off the table with her hand, worrying that it was another nasty sent by those who wanted to do them in. But Layla soon explained.

"I found out that I have an ability. Different than the one everyone thought I did. I can go back and forth, but I can also control these little guys. My little friends. It's gonna be hard to explain to the theater department, but I guess I could just say I have an elaborate system of wires. But this is like a dream come true. I want to use it to entertain as many people as possible. It doesn't take much effort to keep it doing what I want it to do. It's like I hold him and tell him what to do, and he's a good little guy." Roxy found it a little bit creepy, but the puppet had practically the same attitude as Layla. It hopped and pranced as if she were somehow controlling it wirelessly.

With a furrowed brow, she was able to command it to organize all the stuff on the table and check everyone's plate before it slumped down for a nap. That just left Jake without any weird power from the lake. He was sure to get one, but she didn't want him to worry if he didn't. He was already her superhero as is.

She needed to be like that herself; she needed to remember the kind of person she had been when it was necessary and even when it wasn't—the kind of person who left no one behind, who persisted even when it was difficult, who said what she needed to say to get everyone through. At the same time, she needed to remind herself that she wasn't the only back available for support. Jake, the superhero, made plans to head down to visit Alyssa and make sure she was okay. Roxy didn't need to teach him that. She just wished that it didn't need to be done alone.

But she restrained herself; she avoided stepping into all that. And she hoped for the best. Minutes later, Alyssa hustled up the steps and into the kitchen area. She only paused for a moment to grab a nearby jacket that fit her loosely before pressing on to the steps and down into the store. Why? So frustrating. What an obstinate...

An unexpected word caught in Roxy's thoughts. She anticipated it naturally, but losing her train of thought disconnected her from what it might be. She had to go after Alyssa, though. She brought her a smile; she could bring her more; she could make them stick for more than a few hours. The feeling was weird, and she wasn't sure what to do with it, but she knew she had to go after her.