by Kayla Bashe
Go out for food
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Sit on the balcony
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Magic Resilient, by Kayla Bashe
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You change into jeans, put a sweater or a hoodie on over your pajama top, and go walking by the ocean. Hand in hand, you wade up to your ankles, giggle when the waves nudge your legs. A line of baby seabirds walk across the beach, following their mother, and you squeal over how cute they are.
“I didn’t realize how much I missed being around water until I came here,” says Shani. “The moon and the tides…it feels like home.”
“I’d love to see your home someday—it must be beautiful.”
“That works! My parents would love to meet you.”
There are things that neither of you are saying, like You feel like home, and You’re more beautiful than moonlight. But do they really need saying?
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Magic Resilient, by Kayla Bashe
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You and Shani play a card game where you have to guess things from oblique hints. When Shani can’t figure out the answer, she starts throwing out the most ridiculous, unrelated guesses to make you laugh.
That’s one of the things you like about Shani—how funny she is. Not to show off or make other people admire her, but because she knows it’ll make her friends happy. When she starts yawning, you pack up the game and head to bed, giggling quietly the whole way.
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Magic Resilient, by Kayla Bashe
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Shani can’t seem to settle. She keeps flopping around on her bed, moving and rearranging her pillows. Finally she sighs and blows a raspberry, and you hear her get out of bed. “Verdie? You up?”
“I’m a light sleeper,” you admit.
“And I can’t sleep at all! This is our last night here—I have so much energy. I just want to do something.”
“Me, too. What if we…”
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Eat oatmeal by the porch
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Go sit by the river behind our cabin
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Magic Resilient, by Kayla Bashe
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In the moonlight, Malou’s pale skin seems almost luminous.
“You know, I never saw the sea before I came here.” She crouches and cups water in her hands, spreads her fingers a bit and watches it pour out through the gaps. “I wish I could be by the ocean every day. Watch the tides, listen to the waves, go swimming…”
“Are there oceans on your planet?”
“There used to be. I hope there still are.”
“Malou, I promise someday we’ll be able to see for ourselves.”
The smile she gives you says more than words could. It’s almost strange to have the full force of that kind of admiration focused on you.
“Hey, race you to the beachhouse!” you yell. And then you’re running together, competing and laughing, two friends running over the sand in the moonlight.
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Magic Resilient, by Kayla Bashe
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“Do you want to play a card game?”
“If you teach me the rules,” Malou says softly.
When you’re competing against each other, you don’t hold back. You fake coughs to distract each other, stare intensely into each other’s eyes, make faces. Malou gets how fun it can be to take unimportant things very seriously.
The fact that Malou is only wearing black sports bra and a pair of shorts probably throws off your game a little, though…
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Magic Resilient, by Kayla Bashe
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You hear Malou sigh. She keeps flipping over and moving around, trying to get comfortable. Once she relaxes for a few minutes, and you’re like, Okay, I can sleep now. But just as your eyes are closing, Malou yells in her sleep and jolts you both awake. Now it’s as if you’ve had a whole mug of caffinated earl grey breakfast tea.
“Sorry,” she says, not meeting your gaze.
“It’s nothing. I’m wide awake now—that means we can enjoy our last night here. Do you want to get up and do something instead of just lying here?”
“I’m up for that,” she says, starting to smile a little.
“Okay. How about we…”
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Eat oatmeal on the porch
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Sit by the river behind our cabin
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Magic Resilient, by Kayla Bashe
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“I’ve had co-workers who think I’m just high cheekbones and long legs, but I actually really love reading.”
Charmaine Flare is a total history nerd. She adores books, the more detailed the better.
When she’s talking about something related to her home planet, or the decolonization of the country from which her ancestors hailed, her eyes widen and her fingers flutter. At one point she briefly delves into the history of romantic friendship as a means for the politicization of middle-class women, and that makes you think of how huge a crush you have on her.
After a while, she’s exhausted, but she doesn’t want to stop talking. Even when she starts losing words and has to gesture while she thinks of them, her perfectly manicured nails shining like fireflies in the city lights’ glow, she doesn’t suggest going to bed until her eyes are practically drifting closed mid-sentence.
“I love talking to you, Char. A lot of my friends…I can talk to them about our lives or fandoms, but not about history things. It’s nice to have someone who shares that.”
“Same for you, Verdie Vestri.” She leans against you as you head to your room.
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Magic Resilient, by Kayla Bashe
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The next day, you say goodbye to your hosts before leaving.
“We had such a beautiful time. I loved being near the water, and being able to help teach my friends to swim was really fun,” Shani says earnestly.
“And I’m glad I could learn to swim. I…thank you,” Malou says, only slightly awkwardly. She looks at you, and you give her a thumbs-up.
“I’m so happy I had the opportunity to learn to swim, too,” Char says, shaking her hosts’ hands. Not for the first time, you notice how perfect her manicure is.
You shake yo
ur hosts’ hands and thank them very graciously for hosting you.
On the journey back home, you think about everything you’ve learned.
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Magic Resilient, by Kayla Bashe
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Char talks about the books she’s reading, about how the ideas about education put forth by this one anarchist who had a really positive view of humanity can sort of be applied to the principles of the Academy, about the life of this one really cool genderqueer political activist who risked their life stirring up public opinion against the militantly cruel ideals of the Neo-Randians. About a period in Italian history when nearly everyone’s father had been a general. When she talks about the history of her ancestors, her voice gets very soft and gentle, and her words become even more eloquent.
It’s almost absurd that Char is a model, paid to be quiet and artistic and flawless. In your opinion, people should pay her to talk.
“Char, have you ever thought of going into politics?”
“What, as a mayor or a planetary representative or an advocate? You really think I could do something like that…”
“I think you could. And you know so much about debate and political structures and history. I think you’re a genius.”
She smiles teasingly and leans against you. “And you’d be my flawlessly glamorous, old-money First Lady who becomes a fashion icon? I kinda like that.”
How do you respond to something so sweet? You settle on “I’d like that, too.” When Char talks about your future, your lives, in a way that seems to confirm that she’d care about you even if you weren’t her squadmate…it makes you happy.
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Magic Resilient, by Kayla Bashe
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You read and talk on the balcony.
After a while, you hear a soft, ladylike snore, like the sound a kitten would make. Looking up from your book, you see that Shani has fallen asleep and has slumped over. It’s cute how she feels comfortable enough around you to fall asleep when you’re hanging out. Getting her inside would probably be a good idea, though…
Although she’s rounder and curvier than you are, you’re magically strong, and years of swimming in the ocean and climbing up and down the Vestri cliffs have only enhanced that. You get your hands under her arms and haul her to your room.
Her perfume is so sweet.
Mandarin oranges, tiny wild strawberries, cotton candy lipgloss. It’s a scent you could smell forever.
“Sometimes I worry that because I’m fat, I’ll never get to experience being able to jump into someone’s arms, or being picked up and twirled around.” That’s something that Shani said when you were talking.
Girls should never think that they won’t be able to experience something just because of their size. If you can pick Shani up, then surely other people will be able to do so as well! If anyone else was to pick her up and spin her around, though, you’d be jealous…And what if someone broke her gentle heart? You’d never stand for that!
You decide to examine your feelings more in the morning. You’re too tired to think about things. Even about being in love.
You fall asleep wishing you were cuddling with Shani.
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Magic Resilient, by Kayla Bashe
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The next day, you say goodbye to your hosts before leaving.
“We had such a beautiful time. I loved being near the water, and being able to help teach my friends to swim was really fun,” Shani says earnestly.
“And I’m glad I could learn to swim. I…thank you,” Malou says, only slightly awkwardly. She looks at you, and you give her a thumbs-up.
“I’m so happy I had the opportunity to learn to swim, too,” Char says, shaking her hosts’ hands. Not for the first time, you notice how perfect her manicure is.
You shake your hosts’ hands and thank them very graciously for hosting you.
On the journey back home, you think about everything you’ve learned.
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Magic Resilient, by Kayla Bashe
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“It’s strange that you regard sweet grains as a breakfast thing.” Shani says, watching you make oatmeal. “I mean, no one from where I come from does that.”
“Really? What do you have for breakfast, then?”
She smiles brightly. “Fish! Or halva, or almond candy, or soup, or whatever’s left over from the night before…I don’t really understand the concept of ‘breakfast food’ as a thing that’s specific.”
You talk about what’s different about your lives; in the process, you discover a lot that’s similar. You both knew how to handle yourselves on boats from the time you could walk. Your father always took you out on a little sailboat named Verity after his great-aunt. Even as a toddler, you loved to feel the salt spray on your face, and you laughed instead of crying when a wave splashed you.
Shani learned how to swim the same month she figured out how to crawl; several of her baby pictures include water wings. Her old school was located across the lake from her house, so she got used to sailing herself and her baby brother to school every day. The image makes you smile—no wonder Shani’s so great with kids.
“I want to come to Castle Vestri someday, if you’ll invite me. I would absolutely love to see the sea.” She giggles. “Hey, that rhymes!”
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Magic Resilient, by Kayla Bashe
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“I’m glad we went to someplace where I could be around a body of water…I’d miss it so much. Rivers have a different energy from lakes, but they’re both so beautiful.” She’s silent for a few moments, trailing her hands in the water. Then: “What was it like growing up near the sea?”
You talk about what’s different about your lives; in the process, you discover a lot that’s similar. You both knew how to handle yourselves on boats from the time you could walk. Your father always took you out on a little sailboat named Verity after his great-aunt. Even as a toddler, you loved to feel the salt spray on your face, and you laughed instead of crying when a wave splashed you.
