I’m nervous joining Tally. I’ve only been in her room once and didn’t dare stay long enough to survey my surroundings. It’s decorated in black and white. Would you expect anything else? There’s a leopard print duvet on the oversized bed, and with amusement, I notice the red body pillow remains. When I lift a curious brow, she narrows her eyes. Probably best not to ask her why she kept it.

“First off, you need a shower,” she grouses. “Not even the coarsest scrubby will take that horrible stench away, but that’s not my issue. I can only work with what I have available. In your case, it isn’t much.”

She hands me a towel and shoves me into her en suite, shutting me in before I can make the slightest protest. “Don’t get your hair wet,” she calls through the door. “Declan’s not here to blow it dry.”

I intend to keep my hair dry as the queen commands, except I can’t. She’s right about the smell. It’s like walking into a boy’s locker room after gym. This super absorbent stink sponge requires washing. When I’m done, I towel myself off before wrapping the thick, almost blanket-like material around my body. I dry my hair the best I can.

“Are you kidding me? I asked you to do one thing.”

“It smelled obscenely bad,” I insist.

She’s already chosen what she wants me to wear. Surprisingly, it isn’t too formal, and it isn’t a skirt. Yay! It’s a pair of skinny jeans, a flowy blouse, and a black leather over-jacket. The boots are a tad intimidating. I’m still not used to a lift, but at least these have a thick wedge, so they won’t get stuck in the mud.

“Get dressed,” she commands. “We don’t have time for your standard arguments. It’ll take me forever to do your hair now.”

Sighing dramatically, I do as I’m told while she organizes varying makeup containers on her vanity.

“That’ll do.” She plops me down on a chair.

She isn’t gentle with my hair, but it doesn’t exactly hurt. She’s just pulling it a hundred ways. The movement happens so fast I can barely register one tug before another replaces it. After she’s done, she stands me in front of the mirror to survey her efforts.

Huffing when I twist my head to examine the back, she produces a useful replica of me that works way better than a mirror. “You’re getting good at being me. I’m starting to suspect you like it.”

“Your lack of personality makes it easy.”

There are several braids all twisting together in the back. “It’s pretty,” I admit.

“Obviously. I prefer it down, but you have a hearing problem.”

“I don’t have a hearing problem.”

A listening problem, Superego notes unhelpfully.

“It’s safer up, anyway,” she concedes.

“Safer?”

She grins wickedly. “You’re in for a treat, Fire-starter.”

“Oh no!” She’s going to make me start the fire sans matches. “That’s a horrible idea.”

“Don’t fret. The fire will be blazing before anyone gets here. This will be the highlight of my night.”

“I bet Barry will be a more exciting highlight. He’s coming, right?”

“He is.” She puts powder on my cheeks, but not enough it’s noticeable. “I’ll be up here, though.”

“You mean you still haven’t really been around him?” I tilt my head, and she aggressively forces it back into a straight position. Clearly, I’ve struck a nerve.

“No.”

“Why?”

“You ask a lot of stupid questions for someone who’s supposedly smart.”

“Declan seems fine around Kiley,” I encourage her.

“Declan’s barely touched the girl. Not for lack of trying on her part.” She smirks. “Things are fine the way they are.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“Aren’t you seeing things through a glass bottom? It’s distorted, yeah?”

“Trust me, I’m seeing it. Feeling it, too. No worries there.”

She flicks my lips to invoke a pucker and applies gloss. Safer is better. She’s doing what she feels is right, but what’s the point of a half-hearted crack at a relationship? “You two aren’t serious?”

“I just met him, and I don’t do serious.”

What she’s saying and feeling are two totally different things. While calling her out is a breach of confidentiality, that doesn’t stop me from doing it. Where Tally’s concerned, propriety comes second to her squirming. “It feels fairly serious to me.”

“Considering the source wet her pants over a mere kiss, I don’t think you get what serious means.”

“That’s fair.”

“Fair is moot.”

“Is it possible to see right at the first someone was meant for you?” I redirect.

“No.” More lies. “That’s a naïve notion.”

“I’ll bet Declan would strongly disagree.”

She rolls her eyes. “Inflated hopes. If you want something bad enough, you’ll disillusion yourself into believing it’s real.”

“Let’s say, hypothetically, it is possible. Wouldn’t it be a waste of time pretending that person wasn’t your soul mate?”

“First of all, I have a surplus of time. Second of all, far too many desserts are available to fill up on the meal. If I thought he was the one, I’d be running in the opposite direction.”

“You care about Barry,” I argue. “Say what you want, but your emotions tell their own story.”

“These human relationships are temporary, Pyro-chologist.”

“They aren’t meaningful?” I shake my head. “Are you absolutely blind to how Declan’s relationship with Kiley has affected him?”

“Of course they’re meaningful, but they don’t last. They can’t. Kiley is Declan’s first attempt. He was long overdue some companionship. Unfortunately, he’ll realize, as I have, it’s better not to use your heart as an anchor. It’s the last thing holding you to this earth and the first to give out on you.”

“How do you stop once it’s started?”

“You have an emergency shut-off switch. You tell me.” She plops down on her bed. “Actually, don’t tell me. I don’t understand why you’re talking to me about this.”

“You have experience.”

“Then I should be charging you a fee for this session.”

“Weren’t we having a moment?”

She sighs. “So many moments.”

“You don’t have any wisdom to share?”

“Look, I’ll give you the only advice I can. Keep it out of here.” She points to her head. “Keep it out of here.” She points to her heart. “And maybe, just maybe, you’ll be able to skitter off into your solo sunset without dwelling on the future you can’t have.”

“Did you learn that lesson the hard way?”

“No.” Her hands slap the mattress.

“If Barry means so little, why bother hiding the real Tally?”

“That would be reckless. If I break my toy, I can’t play with it anymore.”

“Did you have a boyfriend before you transitioned?”

She laughs sardonically. “I had the same chance in my past life as I do in this one. Slim to none.”

“Would you go back if you could? To have that life?”

“I’d never give this up.” Who’s she trying to convince, her or me?

“Don’t you ever entertain the future? The possibilities?”

“I’m not fated for a happy ending. I’m not fated for any sort of ending.” She stands from the bed and eyes me warily. “You, Declan, Ryan, and most of the unnatural world have it all wrong, Supernova. We have only the future before us. You can go on believing you are more like them than us, but we both know that’s a lie.

“We no longer have to account for the future, so why wouldn’t we live for today? Derry’s a perfect example of what you need to play with. For some strange reason, he seems to like you, and you’re running out of time to be choosy if you want to experience life before you go ka-BOOM.”

“Again, I reiterate Declan seems very happy. Also, I’m not transitioning.”

“Declan just needs to blow out all the dust bunnies. He’ll come to his senses soon enough.”

“I hope you’re wrong.”

“You don’t think I hope for the same thing?” She moves by the window. “Hope is a deadly thing. His heart will end up broken, regardless. He’ll lose control and drain her or wake up from the first love flutters and see she isn’t the person he thought she was. His heart won’t survive either way.”

“He’s stronger than you think.”

She doesn’t turn to look at me. “He’s still not nearly strong enough.”

Emotions of jealousy, pride, angst, and doubt fill the air between us. I want to help her. The only way I can do that is by taking it all away.

I’ve been playing with emotional manipulation. While I can remove emotions, as proven by my “uncomfortable’” safe word, I can’t change them. My spark doesn’t allow me to transform what exists, but it does allow me to halt emotions midstream, an emergency shut-off switch, if you will. It offers an empty canvas to paint on.

Tally deserves a break from herself, so I empty all the negative garbage, leaving her staring listlessly out the window with a confused half-smile on her face. “I’m waiting for you by the fire you’re ready to light,” she dismisses me.

“Didn’t you want some excitement out of your room?”

“Observing is the safer option.”

“My spark might not be strong enough to light anything, but I appreciate your faith in me.”

“I have all kinds of faith you’ll strike the match. I just have no clue what kind of accelerant you’re hiding in there. As an aside, that was a strong tranquilizer you just slipped me.”

“Roofied you,” I whisper.

She catches me off-guard, whispering back, “Thank you.”

If I can do anything human, and it can’t be love, maybe I can soothe the aches caused by its absence. Perhaps my familial role is to protect them in a way that enables survival if they slip up and let humanity get the jump on them.

Can I bail on the potential love so temptingly close to me? I’ve tried avoiding Derry, but he’s weaseled his way into my life. My aspirations are overwhelming my conscience, and I’m not entirely sure that’s bad.

By the time I join Tally2 outside, I’m ready for some fire fun. I need a release. I just hope I’m the only one who gets burned.