Page 115 of CHOICE Lover
“Unless there’s something more you want from him?” A-Pawstle Calico’s tail flicks back and forth like it understands what Sister Xelna is implying.
“I don’t want anything from him. We broke up.” Electra extricates her hand, reaching for her sandwich.
Sister Xelna taps her nose before reaching for her own container. “I sense someone is lying.”
Electra stares at her Tuna-ish sandwich as if it will back up her lie.
“You’re not the same as when we first met. Your aura then was a bright, cheerful bubblegum pink. Now it is blue, and not a vibrant, peppy shade. That’s why I keep bringing the fans around. I thought they would cheer you up.” Xelna takes a bite of her sandwich, not noticing the tears welling in Electra’s eyes.
“I miss him,” she admits. “I don’t want to, but I do.”
Sister Xelna turns, and they lock gazes. “I know, dearest.” She reaches up and wipes a tear away. “Oops! I got a little Sammy Sauce on your face. Here. Let me get that . . .” She takes a napkin, dabbing at Electra’s cheek, which only smears the blob of mayo-like substance around.
A chuckle bubbles up from Electra’s throat. Then they’re both laughing.
“Maybe it’s good for your skin?” Sister Xelna says between giggles. When their laughter dies down, she continues, “I only want you to behappy. If that means you need to go back to him, then I support you. Me and A-Pawstle Calico will be just fine. Isn’t that right, my precious girl?!”
“No matter what happens, I’m here for you too,” Electra says. “Thanks for being my friend.”
“Always.” Sister Xelna lifts the sandwich to her mouth, but pauses. A guilty grin materializes, and—did her whiskers twitch? “Wait. Does this mean you don’t want to do the meet and greets? Because I may have already told a few people about them while I was standing in line at The Fresh Catch.”
Knowing her friend’s intent in bringing the fans around changes how she feels about it. Electra smiles. “I’ll do the meet and greet. I would hate to disappoint my adoring fans.”
That afternoon, she sends a single-word response to Res6.Yes.Then she books the appointment in her calendar, along with the first official meet and greet for the following month. Will he hear about it and be upset? She really shouldn’t care. Shouldn’t be thinking about him, yet now that she knows she’s going to see him after several long weeks, she can’t keep her mind off him. Now she’s going to see him in two days.
She needs something to occupy her mind, which keeps trailing back to him. It’s a vicious cycle. She tried a Dear Electra column entry but couldn’t keep her gaze from flicking to her inbox. Would he message again?
Frustrated, she closes the FrogBlog app and opens Scrawl to her latest copy of the manuscript forAn Experiment Gone Wrong. The storyline is a very loose Frankenstein retelling set on a spaceshipwhere a mad scientist pieces together parts for the perfect man. Only upon activation, she discovers he’s just like the rest of them. Like in the original, the scientist rejects him and sends him away from her lab. The monster roams the spaceship, causing problems that ultimately lead him back to her.
The problem is, she can’t bring herself to write the next chapter: the third-act breakup scene. It’s too on the nose. But it sure would be nice to have it drafted by the meet and greet. Then she would feel confident teasing the storyline. Maybe she could even figure out how to set up a preorder campaign. She’ll have an ID by then, so it might work . . . if preorders are even a thing anymore.
The external motivation is there, so she keeps staring at her keyboard, waiting for words to come. They don’t. It’s pointless. Somehow, the commercially viable love in space saga isn’t intrinsically motivating enough.
Right as she’s about to give up and call it a day, an idea strikes her.
She’s a fast writer—she can pick back up the Frankenstein retelling in a few days and still tease it if she wants. What if she writes a short story as a love letter and apology all in one? He’s getting her an ID, so maybe she can do this to reciprocate. She probably owes him something after that shitty breakup note she left him. God, she can’t even remember what she wrote. She was packing and trying to dictate to the Scrawl app through angry tears. Had she even made sense? She has no idea, and she’s certainly still angry. There’s more to hash out, but she isn’t opposed to the idea of talking. So maybe this story is her version of opening the door.
She takes her tablet and opens a new Brain Dump. If she can nail down the hook, she’ll be off and running.
Best not to overthink it and let it come naturally.
A man’s twin brother does not die, as suspected by those he left behind; he sacrifices the life he might have had to pass into a fairytale realm to save a fair maiden—they live happily ever after.
Maybe Jerme will never live in this world again, but she can immortalize him in a story. The dedication comes easily.
For Jerme. I never got to meet you, but this ridiculous man we both love believes we would have become fast friends.
40 – IdenTECH
Res6
January 17, 2391.
If they have to sit here in this dingy Z Quadrant rented meeting room any longer . . . Something isn’t right. They’ve been waiting for at least—Res6 thinks the command: Time check. 18:03.
Okay, so only three minutes past the meeting time. He grips his thighs, kneading his muscles. He can sense Electra noting the action, so he leans back and threads his fingers together in an attempt to appear calmer than he feels.
Electra’s scent surrounds him as she leans over. “Why are you nervous? I thought you said you’d met them?”
