by Ryan Almroth
“What time do you get off?” she asked.
A groan escaped Riley as she slumped onto the counter. Not soon enough, she thought before saying, “Not until 7:30. What time is it now?”
Amelia pursed her lips. That definitely wasn’t a good sign. “It’s going on five o’clock,” she said.
Riley let out another groan, only this time it was louder, as she lowered her forehead onto the counter. Amelia’s free hand found her hair. She threaded her fingers through, taking out the knots that had formed after running the front of the shop all day long. Riley’s eyes closed, and she hummed happily as Amelia continued to massage her scalp.
“It’ll be okay, babe,” Amelia said with a laugh.
She began to pull her hand out of Riley’s hair, but Riley made a whining noise that only sparked another laugh from Amelia. She ran her fingers through Riley’s hair once more. “You’re quite needy today. An ‘I love you’ and head scratches. I’m starting to think I have a spoiled girlfriend on my hands,” she mused.
Riley rolled her head to the side and opened her eyes. She frowned and murmured, “Sorry about freaking out and if you want to stop you can—”
Amelia shushed her, interrupting Riley before she could finish her sentence. “If I didn’t want to do it, I wouldn’t be doing it. I mean I’ll be staying here till you get off, so I need something to do.”
At her words Riley raised her head and arched an eyebrow. “Wait, but what about the party? The others are waiting for you.”
“They’ll survive. They knew I was coming here anyways.”
“You’d rather stay here in the boring store instead of the pool?” Riley asked.
Amelia nodded and quickly took both her hands back as she made her way around the counter. There was only one chair, so Amelia pulled a crate out from under the counter and sat on that. Leaning against the counter, she wove her fingers through Riley’s hair once more, making tiny little braids and watching them unravel. Riley turned her body to give Amelia easier access to her hair, but in doing so Amelia stopped midbraid.
“What’s that?” she asked, leaning around Riley to look under the counter.
Riley followed her gaze right to where the present resided. Riley’s eyes widened, and she turned, spreading her legs out to block Amelia’s view.
“Nothing,” Riley blurted.
In her head Riley berated herself at how her voice went not only higher in pitch but also louder. She tried to smile, but she could tell it looked awkward by the way Amelia looked at her. Her eyes narrowed as she leaned over more to spy what Riley was desperately trying to hide. Riley stretched her leg farther out.
“Is that a present?” Amelia asked, looking back at Riley and meeting her gaze.
Riley let out a short laugh and shook her head quickly, trying to put up a nonchalant front. “What? No, it’s not a present,” she said, in what she hoped was a convincing voice. “It’s just something I wrapped for a customer that called in an order. Yeah, just that.”
Amelia raised an eyebrow before slumping over a bit, looking like a deflated balloon that had been in the hot sun all day. “Oh, I was thinking that it might be for me,” she said, looking away.
Riley pressed her lips together in a thin line, glancing back and forth between the present and Amelia, and heat rose to her face once more. Riley couldn’t handle it when Amelia looked like that.
“Okay, fine, yeah it’s for you,” Riley said, grabbing the present.
Amelia smirked and did a little wiggle as she held out her hands expectantly. She opened and closed her hands in quick succession, which was the universal sign of “Gimme.” Riley looked down at the present but didn’t move to give it to her.
“It’s not much,” Riley said and frowned. “I don’t have scrapbooking skills, and there’s definitely nothing you’d like in this store, so I found this person on Etsy who makes—”
Amelia placed a finger over Riley’s lips, cutting her off. Amelia smiled wide and shook her head, “Don’t spoil it, babe. I’m sure I’ll love it because you thought of me and got me something when you didn’t have to.”
Seeing as Amelia’s finger was still on her lips, Riley could only nod and wordlessly place the present in Amelia’s hand. Drawing her finger away, Amelia peeled the wrapping paper off with care. She pulled the black jewelry box from the cardboard box and placed the cardboard on the counter. Riley held her breath as Amelia opened the jewelry box and stared. Her facial expression was blank as she took in the present. Riley’s hands began to sweat. She doesn’t like it, oh no, why did I ever think she’d like it?
“I’m sorry, I know it’s kind of silly and it’s not dainty or pretty like the necklaces you normally wear. I thought—”
Amelia’s laugh cut Riley off, and Riley could only look at her in dumbfounded silence. Amelia’s face filled with mirth as she brought a hand up to stifle her giggle. Riley smiled uncertainly, questions filling her head.
“Oh my God, babe, I love it,” Amelia said as she continued to laugh.
She picked up the necklace with two fingers allowing the pendant to dangle from the silver chain. The pendant was a turquoise scallop shell that was surrounded by a bubble with spikes coming out of it. Across the entire pendant was the word “Bombshell” written in black with a swirly font.
“I dunno, I thought it’d be kind of cool cause you know… you’re a bombshell?” Riley said with a hint of hesitance.
Amelia looked at the necklace with nothing but adoration.
“This is literally the cutest thing I have ever seen,” Amelia said as she unclasped the necklace and put it around her neck. She turned sideways and held the two clasps out to Riley, “You mind?”
Riley took the clasps and fastened the necklace.
“You really like it?” she asked.
Amelia turned back around and nodded, “Yes, I really do. It’s so cute.” She held the pendant in her hand and smiled.
Riley let out a relieved chuckle, “Oh thank God. I was about to panic when you didn’t say anything.” She put her hands over her face.
Amelia stood up and took Riley’s hands in hers, peeling them away from Riley’s face.
“Thank you, Riley,” she said.
Riley grinned and opened her mouth to respond when Amelia leaned in and kissed her. Heat spread across Riley’s face as she intertwined her fingers with Amelia’s. Bliss filled her mind and she felt Amelia smile through the kiss.
Then the bell over the front door jingled.
The two girls sprang apart, jerking their heads toward the door. Fear replaced the bliss. Riley’s heart pounded as she looked to see who came into the shop.
Jade, Leah, and the rest of their friends stood there, all wearing the biggest grins on their faces. Both Riley and Amelia let out a huge sigh of relief, and Riley slumped against the back of her chair.
“Well, the customer service in this place seems wonderful. Can I have some?” Jade asked.
“Sorry, but this dutiful employee is still helping me,” Amelia replied, settling down onto Riley’s lap.
As the other girls made their way to the counter, Riley wrapped an arm around Amelia’s waist. The rest of them started to talk, but Riley only cocked her head toward Amelia and stared. At her face, at her lips, and at the necklace she was holding out for the others to see. Riley smiled, squeezing Amelia with one arm. At that moment, she was no longer worried.
She and her bombshell were going to be fine.
ALEXIS K HENLEY is a twenty-one-year-old senior at Brevard College. She’s majoring in English with a creative writing emphasis and minors in psychology. This year she is the head editor of her school’s literary magazine , and for her senior project she will be writing a YA fantasy novel. She is excited to finally finish a novel and to make the next issue of the magazine with a variety of creative pieces in it. To follow her journey and to hear her talk about writing, follow her on Instagram @lex_scribbles_in_notebooks. Her current Instagram obsessions are cute animals (specifi
cally corgis), writing tips, and anything about Marvel.
Alexis aspires to be a full-time author one day, but she also is thinking about going to graduate school to get her MFA. If she had to choose another career path, she’d love to work with manatees, her favorite animal. While she attends school in the mountains, her heart belongs to the beach where she can read uninterrupted. When she has any free time at college, she likes to play video games with a good storyline, spend time with her mom, drink Cheerwine, and go to coffee shops only to drink tea—she hates coffee! While Alexis has written some nonfiction and a variety of poems, fiction is still the most dear to her heart and it’s where she feels like she flourishes the most. She loves to write about young adults finding themselves and changing the world in some way.
Dotting the Eyes
By Oliver X. Li
Lil has never been one for superstition. It’s why she still doesn’t have a permanent name, and also why she doesn’t fear the spirits the traditions are meant to protect her from. But this far into adolescence, her missing name calls the village’s intense scrutiny down on her, and she struggles to find the right name when none of them seem to fit.
Meanwhile, deep in the woods, the spirit pool hides something that might change everything for Lil.
THERE WAS a distant, bright light cresting over the hill. Even with a healthy cloud covering, it caught in Lil’s eyes as she ran, gleaming gold along the icicles hanging from the tiled roofs. This was the first sun she’d seen in weeks, and it brought with it some life back to the village. Far before she’d even neared the marketplace, the wind carried the smell of fresh produce and street food.
She might’ve even enjoyed it too, had it not been another painful reminder as to how catastrophically late she was.
“How’s that name coming along?” Auntie Wu called as she tore past, and reluctantly she skidded to a halt.
“Still working on it,” she said, suddenly acutely aware of the market’s clamor. Or, rather, the lack thereof.
“Still?” Uncle Chen demanded, cutting through the silence. “How long has it been?”
“Er, a while,” she replied. “I just… don’t want to get it wrong, you know? It’s a big decision, and besides, I’m not even twenty! David was twenty-one when he settled on his name.”
“That’s because he couldn’t decide which he liked best, dear,” said Auntie Ling, looking up from a stack of fresh peaches across the way. “Do you even have an idea of what you’d like?”
Well, I’d like to leave, she thought to herself, then smiled awkwardly. “Oh, would you look at the time,” she hedged. “Wouldn’t want to be late for work!”
Auntie Wu shook her head, pointing up at the very obvious and very risen sun. “You’re already late for work.”
“Okay, later,” Lil amended. “Gotta go!”
It wasn’t that she didn’t want a real name. No, she definitely didn’t want to get stuck with an embarrassing milk name all her life—though she definitely lucked out in the embarrassment department. Her cousin’s milk name was Ugly Bean, for goodness’ sake; you couldn’t get much worse than that. Maybe it served its purpose in scaring off bad spirits, but boy did it ever teach humility.
Really, her struggle had nothing to do with lack of effort. She’d tried on more names than she had articles of clothing, burned through as many books of names as she could find, even listened to her village’s constant bombardment of unsolicited feedback. But just like an oversized shirt, none had ever fit right. At this point Lil was ready to give it up as a bust.
“Sorry, sorry! I’m here!” she gasped out as she burst through the back door of the bookshop.
Hands deep within the innards of a half-assembled book, her father looked up from his workbench and frowned. “You’re late.”
“Oh, you know me, Dad,” she replied, breathless, and ducked around him to grab her apron. “I’d probably be late to my own funeral if I could.”
His frown deepened, but Lil only grinned, wiggling her eyebrows mischievously. “Get it? Late? Funeral?”
A moment passed before the corner of his mouth quirked up. “Go pray to the spirits before they decide we’re an easy target,” he said, rolling his eyes.
“Oh, come on,” she grumbled, but dutifully headed toward the shrine. “It was a good pun!”
“Good puns don’t save you from bad luck,” he said. “And try to be on time, please!”
Unlike her morning, work was easy. Mindless. This close to New Year’s, everyone had put in orders for celebratory signs and decorations, and after carving out the correct characters to be printed, all that was left was the monotonous and repetitive task of putting ink onto the press, putting paper onto the ink, then hanging the finished products up to dry. It was boring work, and it coated her head to toe in ink more often than not, but there was something special about being surrounded by all this knowledge and being able to access any of it at any time.
Also, being able to leave inky handprints all over her father’s apron was good too.
“Anything new?” her father asked, shaking her out of her thoughts.
“You saw me just a few hours ago,” she pointed out.
“Lots can change in just a few hours.”
The village is probably going to hunt me for sport because I still don’t have a name. She replied with a noncommittal, “Not much.”
He hummed.
There was a pause before he said, “Full moon tonight.”
She tried to suppress a sigh, knowing where this conversation was going. “Yeah.”
“And the spirit world will be closer to ours.”
“Yeah, Dad.”
He stopped and turned to her, face serious, and she dutifully looked up. “Be careful tonight,” he said.
“Yeah, I will.”
His stare only lasted for a few seconds before he turned back. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
She huffed a melodramatic sigh. “Darn,” she said lightly, “guess I’m going to have to burn the house down.”
He froze, then turned back, pointing at her sternly with thread still tangled around his hand. “That only happened once, and it was only the kitchen, and you know it.”
“I stand corrected.” She gave him a benign smile, until he turned back around. “Just the kitchen, then.”
“Lil,” he groaned. “Please don’t burn anything down.”
“I’ll do my best,” she laughed, and flicked some ink onto his apron.
GOING HOME after work was like open season. Lil couldn’t take two steps through the market without being stopped. It seemed like everyone and their pet dog were there with their suggestions.
“My daughter just found her name, and her lists are still all over the house,” said one well-meaning shopkeeper. “Maybe you could take a look?”
“No, I—”
“There’s no need,” a passing marketgoer said, patting her on the shoulder. “Her father’s just bound a new book of names. Have you gone through it yet?”
No, she thought sarcastically, because I’m the bookbinder’s child, but I don’t read books.
“I’ve taken a look,” she said diplomatically instead. “Think I’ll go take another one. Bye!”
Barely two seconds after extricating herself from that conversation, another shopkeeper stopped her at the fruit stall. “Lily, Lilith, Lilibeth,” she listed off, oblivious to Lil’s growing ire. “There’s all sorts of possibilities that could work with your milk name!”
“And Lilian, Lilian’s a fine name too,” another passerby added. “You could stay Lil, and get this whole naming thing over with.”
Lil wished the ground would swallow her whole. No such luck, however, as the chatter continued around her.
“Thanks, guys,” she finally ground out. “I’ll keep those in mind.”
“There’s a good girl,” said the shopkeeper.
Her fists clenched in her pockets, and she waved at them all woodenly as she sprinted home.
Th
ey meant well, which was perhaps the worst part. None of their “helpful” suggestions were made out of malice, and it made Lil feel even worse about her misdirected irritation. Her foul mood lasted deep into the evening, only letting up as the moon rose.
And then it was time.
Dad definitely wouldn’t do this, she thought, the euphoria and terror of rebellion making her heart beat rapidly.
It was a mantra she kept repeating, starting from when she slunk out of her room and past her father’s, all the way to sliding out the front door, knuckles white against the handle to prevent it from slamming. Yet another successful sneaking attempt, she crowed in her head once the door finally clicked shut. The full moon made it easier to see her way but much more difficult to sneak through the village. She didn’t particularly want to get stopped, for obvious reasons. Any superstitious villager worth their salt would have told her to get inside—if they didn’t just immediately call her spirit-touched and burn her at the stake.
Once she hit the forest, it was much easier. At this time of year, there weren’t even any capricious twigs or roots to contend with, and the quiet scrunch of snow beneath her boots went away entirely when she dragged her feet. The wind howled between the trees as she shuffled by, boughs rustling loudly overhead. It cut her through to the bone despite her thick coat, and she shivered. Winter is the absolute worst, she thought grumpily, and drew her scarf tighter to her face.
The barest dapples of moonlight glittered against the icy ground, just enough making it through the dense canopy to light her path and stop her from taking a branch to the face. It grew steadily darker as she ventured deeper, until she could barely see at all.
Then she spotted the glow.
Between two trees, just a little way ahead of her, a silvery light gleamed. She shuffled toward it, squinting a little—then a lot, snow shining bright enough to blind, glittering like diamonds.
The clearing was like a step into spring. She couldn’t see her breath freezing before her anymore, and all the snow she’d tracked in turned to water immediately, dripping toward a perfectly circular pool centered around a single tree stump. Her boots cast ripples through the spirit pool as she walked forward, marring its mirrorlike surface. Beneath it, vibrantly green grass swayed slowly, broken only by a single ring of white mushrooms, which she stepped over carefully.
