by R. Cooper
Clematis hadn’t asked for an escort or to sit with them, but he never did. He left them at the table and flopped onto his back on the grass. The sun beat down warmly on him but wasn’t in his face. He looked up at the branches and released a long, shaking breath.
Someone sparkling brightly sat cross-legged next to him.
Clematis slid a look to the deep tan skin of Flor’s bare knee and then lifted his hand to feel the fragile pop of Flor’s glitter winking out of existence as it landed on his palm.
Flor snorted. “I don’t get you.”
“There’s nothing to get,” Clematis answered evenly, curling his fingers through the air and the steady fall of Flor’s sparkle. Flor always had so much. “I don’t get you. Why don’t you go hang out with that ginger werewolf?”
“Ginger werewo—you mean Kirkpatrick’s group?” Flor sounded like he was scowling. “You know T. Kirkpatrick’s werewolves’ rights group, while supportive of other beings, is about werewolves, right? Also that just because they have a chapter in Madera doesn’t mean he is on this campus personally?”
“Too bad. He’s hot.” Clematis shrugged. He rolled his hand, creating currents that made Flor’s glitter swirl. “Those pictures he did—”
“With his mate,” Flor bit out.
Clematis shrugged again. “Some weres don’t mind sharing.”
“Since when do you go after weres, anyway?” Flor asked, then instantly changed his mind. “Ugh. Don’t tell me. And I’m not over there because while I believe in werewolf rights, I’m here for everyone who wants an education. More beings should be in places like this so our voices aren’t drowned out. David says so much valuable insight is lost without us here.”
Clematis moved his head to stare up at the branches again. “What will you do when one of those humans finally decides they aren’t afraid of one fairy and Mishi or one of the others isn’t with you?”
Flor moved, briefly blocking out the sun and the branches to peer down into his face. “Hurt and then heal,” he said matter-of-factly, but with a suspicious squint. “Curse them? I don’t know.”
“You aren’t old enough or strong enough for curses,” Clematis pointed out with Flor’s sparkle pinging against his chest and shoulders and tickling across his lips.
Flor sat back and took his dark gold with him. “Considering how you act, I didn’t think you worried about stuff like that.”
“There is always pushback when we ask for things,” Clematis whispered and wondered if Flor’s dark gaze was fixed on him again.
“I’m not asking for anything.” Flor’s voice was firm. “I’m standing for something.”
Clematis frowned at the sky. “You know what happens when you do that.”
“Yeah,” Mishi cut in from the table. “I’m there to stomp on anyone who gets in his way.”
Clematis kind of doubted Mishi had ever stomped on anything deliberately, despite her size and the reputation of trolls. But he lifted his head for a moment to study her, from her short pink hair to her chipped pink nails to the Sailor Moon T-shirt. Her skin was browns and yellows, and her shine colors were a blushing sort of lavender—gentle and harmless. “Humans don’t mess around. He won’t see it, but you should.”
“Shut up.” Flor sprinkled a handful of grass over Clematis’s face, making him sputter.
Mishi coughed as if she wanted to laugh. “You didn’t seem that antihuman a few minutes ago.”
Clematis wiped his face, then flicked a few blades of grass back at Flor. “That was just me.”
Flor bent over to peer down at him again. “What does that even mean?” He shook his head. “You’re so weird.”
“You’re both weird,” Mishi commented. “I’m still not used to seeing you be friendly to each other.”
Flor made a complicated sound, like a groan and a whine and a muffled protest all together.
Clematis closed his eyes. “Flor just likes rescuing people.”
“You’re an asshole.” Flor huffed. “And if I’d known you needed this much rescuing, I would have left you at that party.”
“What party?” Mishi asked.
Flor noticeably hesitated. “The, uh, one I told you about.” Clematis opened his eyes. Flor was rubbing his thumb over his bare knee, making agitated little circles. “The one where I finally talked to David.”
“Oh,” Mishi said, as if she knew all about that. Everyone seemed to know how much Flor loved David, even nonfairies who couldn’t see it the way Clematis could. Probably from the pride in Flor’s voice whenever he said David’s name. Mishi glanced to Clematis again. “I didn’t realize Clematis was there when that happened.”
“I wasn’t.” Clematis plucked some more grass and let it fall over Flor’s skin. The agitated circles stopped. “I don’t know what he’s talking about.” But he could guess. The only thing that ever shook up Flor was David and how much David shined for Tulip. That day, Flor had been smiling and glittery but also shaky and distracted. Tulip and David had been at that party too, happy and glowing with each other.
Clematis had realized too late that Flor must have handed over David to Tulip—a phrase David would probably object to, but David didn’t know fairy politics as well as he thought he did. Fairies took care of the people they loved, and as David’s best friend, Flor had done that for David. He was in love with David too, the same way David was in love with him, but Clematis had learned early on that neither Flor nor David talked about that.
Anyway, David was with Tulip now, so Flor must have approved of that and let him go. Clematis just hadn’t realized at the time that Flor had done it at that party.
“Clematis was trying to sneak out the front door and clearly couldn’t handle trying to get a ride on his own.” Flor snorted. “He kept muttering about Tulip and the dragon at the party—oh, there was a dragon at the party, Mish—and when I actually tried to talk to him for once, he said I wouldn’t understand. But he wouldn’t leave my side either.”
Clematis put a hand to his chest. “You’re exaggerating,” he insisted, although he wasn’t sure what he’d been like after he’d stumbled away from Tulip. He’d been bad enough to make Flor feel sorry for him, which said a lot, since until that moment, Flor hadn’t been able to stand him.
“Wow. Didn’t know you were scared of dragons.” Mishi probably thought she was being comforting.
“Are you offering to protect me?” Clematis raised himself up onto his elbows to bat his eyelashes at her.
Mishi’s eyes went wide.
Flor turned sharply toward Clematis, then sighed. Loudly.
“According to Flor, I need a rescuer,” Clematis went on in a low, sweet voice. “Want to be my knight, Mishi?”
“Knock it off.” Flor got to his feet and floated to the table and the cooler beneath it, muttering as he went. “For fuck’s sake. Should just get him a were to screw around with, and then maybe he would learn some sense.”
“Why are you flirting with me?” Mishi shook her head and ignored Flor’s grumbling. “You’ve never flirted with me before.”
“Well, you don’t like men.” Clematis shrugged.
“And there’s the shrug!” Flor complained in the background.
Mishi leaned forward a little. “How do you know that? And that still didn’t answer my question.”
“You’ve never admired me. Not like that. Not like most people do. Even people who don’t want to usually stare at me sooner or later.” Clematis sat all the way up and dusted off his work shirt. “Only people who exclusively like women or who don’t like anyone don’t admire me.” He paused. “And I did it because it made your colors go all embarrassed and cute, and it annoys Flor when I flirt with his friends.”
“Wonder why that could be,” Flor shot back. “And not everyone admires you.”
“I know.” Clematis studied the curve of Flor’s wings, then made himself look at Mishi and smile. “I said ‘most people.’”
“He did say that,” she agreed, while giving hi
m a funny look.
“Ugh,” Flor announced and walked—marched, really—back to the grass carrying two bottles of soda. He curled up with his legs crossed and plopped a bottle on the ground between them. He popped the top on the one in his hands. “That’s for you,” he explained before taking a sip.
The Wilson’s Old-Fashioned line of soft drinks had a lot of flavors, but Flor loved the cream soda the most.
Clematis was tired from the events of the day and no meals for hours. All fairies seemed hungry all the time, a consequence of fast healing and metabolism, which was why most of them snacked constantly, like birds. But he couldn’t eat at work without drawing attention to himself, so he’d sort of gotten used to waiting until he got home. Despite that, he shook his head.
“Thanks,” he said softly. “I know that’s your favorite, but I’ll get a coffee soon.”
He tipped his head back up to the sun and closed his eyes, so he missed whatever expression went with Flor’s annoyed scoff. “You have this kind in your fridge!”
“Because you like it,” Clematis explained absently, absorbing all the warmth he could get.
The silence after that went on long enough that Clematis finally opened his eyes. Flor had red sunspots around him until Clematis blinked.
Flor took an extremely disgruntled sip of his soda, then tapped his knee. “You like coffee? Why didn’t I know that?”
“Because you don’t like me.” Clematis shrugged again so Mishi would stop frowning at the two of them.
“I thought you were friends now.” She paused. “Even I know Clem drinks flavored lattes and iced things.”
“I—” Flor drew his thin eyebrows together, then lifted them. “I’ve had other things on my mind.”
“Haven’t you known each other for years?” Mishi stared hard at Flor, who stared hard back at her, communicating silently in that way that close friends sometimes did, or so Clematis had been led to believe.
“I suppose I should go,” Clematis said abruptly and shivered although he was still in the sun.
“What? Where?” Flor swung around to study him curiously. The intense stare was nowhere to be seen. Clematis wasn’t sure Flor even knew he did it when it happened. Flor was growing into his magic a lot earlier than many fairies did. But Flor was stronger and wiser than most fairies his age. “I’m not sure you can be trusted to leave the way you came in without causing a riot.” Flor stopped with the bottle at his lips. “Where were you going, anyway?”
“I like to walk around the campus sometimes.” Clematis ran his fingertips through the condensation on the bottle next to him.
“The garden around the president’s house is really pretty,” Mishi offered.
Clematis smiled. “Yeah. There’s also a bench in the northwest corner near the freshman dorms with a little footbridge over a pond. They have cherry trees there too. It’s nice in the spring.”
Flor shut his mouth, opened it, then looked away. “You like gardens? I meant, why are you dressed like that if you aren’t still at work?”
Flor was barefoot and wearing only a pair of hot pink shorts. He’d soaked up so much summer sun that his skin was a few shades darker than it was in the winter. A couple of freckles dotted his cheekbones.
Clematis tugged at the T-shirt he hadn’t bothered to remove before, and couldn’t now or risk losing it. “I was at work earlier. I have to be dressed there. And I don’t want to lose these and have to replace them.” Flor worked in a nursery and also did odd gardening jobs. He could wear whatever he wanted.
“Is that why… oh, sorry. Never mind.” Mishi coughed. “It’s just… you aren’t sparkling very much, if it’s not rude to say.”
“She’s right, you know.” Flor nudged the bottle toward Clematis. “Drink.” He held Clematis’s gaze until Clematis picked up the bottle, then briefly looked smug when Clematis opened it and had a sip. “Did something bad happen today?”
Clematis wrinkled his nose at the carbonation but had another drink. His skin was hot. Flor was watching, his wings opening and closing like a sunning butterfly. Clematis took another drink and looked down when Flor smiled in approval.
Clematis wouldn’t say his day was bad, although since Mr. Harbaugh had been hired, he hadn’t had many good days either. “It was a pretty normal day. I—” He rubbed his nose and wet his sticky-sweet lips. “—took a driving test.”
“What?” Flor’s wings sent blades of grass in all directions. “You took a driving test? For a license? They let you? Did you pass?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“It’s not a big deal.” Clematis glanced over. Flor’s eyes were huge. “I did okay,” he continued hesitantly, not sure why Flor was looking at him like that. “I was good enough to pass.”
“Good enough!” Flor sighed skyward before gesturing at him. He splashed soda on his hand and barely noticed. “Good enough, he says, like humans don’t do their best to make sure we can’t drive! That’s not good; that’s amazing!”
“Amazing?” Clematis echoed quietly, his mouth dry.
Flor stared at him with this surprised, slightly goofy smile. He kept shaking his head. “No big deal? You just did what one fairy in a hundred does.”
“Oh.” Clematis stared into the depths of Flor’s eyes until his own eyes were burning. That smile was still there. “It wasn’t anything. They said I was good enough for a fairy.”
Flor’s scowl was immediate and familiar. “And you let them? ‘Good enough for a fairy.’ What kind of bullshit is that?”
“Flor,” Mishi tried to interrupt.
“They’re always insulting us.” Clematis took another drink of soda he didn’t want, but his mouth stayed dry. Amazing kept running through his mind.
“Well, they shouldn’t,” Flor insisted and slid his hand under the bottle Clematis was holding and pushed it up. “Drink! Drink, and I’ll buy you a coffee.” His voice was light, but he was serious now, leaning closer and keeping his wings still. “You got a driver’s license today, Clematis. We should celebrate.”
His glitter was so plentiful it was nearly blinding. Every pop sent a ticklish shiver down Clematis’s spine. “Yeah?” he asked, voice a whisper.
Mishi coughed. “Please don’t blow each other in front of me.”
Flor snorted as he pulled away. “Yeah, that’s going to happen,” he said sarcastically, then sprang to his feet. He put his empty bottle in the paper bag the MCC members used for their trash and recycling, then patted his shorts as if anything could possibly be hidden in them. “Have you seen my phone, Mish? Ah!” He grabbed it off the table, then shot a dark look over to Clematis. “I said drink it! If a fairy could faint, you probably would right now.”
Fairies could faint if they were starved long enough or continually injured enough that they couldn’t heal quickly. But Flor likely knew that and was being dramatic. Clematis didn’t have a lot of glitter. It wasn’t a big deal.
Clematis stared at his cream soda instead of Flor bustling around the table, straightening up sticker piles and little information cards, all while texting people. Flor tended to be bossy, and somehow trolls and demons and all manner of shifters listened to him or shuffled out of his way.
Flor didn’t even seem to notice.
“What’s he so cranky about?” Tarō wondered lazily, barely disturbing a single blade of grass as he sat down at Clematis’s left. Clematis glimpsed some truly distasteful basketball shorts and an appealingly tight tank top, and of course the vivid arcs of silver that flashed through the air around Tarō that most humans would never see. Tarō’s medium-length dark hair was up in a loose ponytail with strands down around his ears and the curve of his neck.
Behind him, visible to Clematis but probably not to too many others, was the faintest outline of a fox’s tail. Just one.
“He wants me to drink this,” Clematis told him, bringing a slash of a smile to Tarō’s narrow, pretty face.
“But you were saving it for me?” Tar
ō asked with a wink.
Flor groaned in the distance. “I was going to buy that idiot a coffee to celebrate, but I guess I can just go home.”
“Seriously, are you sure you’re friends?” Mishi broke in.
Clematis tipped up the bottle and finished the soda in one go, to Tarō’s absolute delight. “Clem, I miss that mouth of yours.”
“You’ve never had it.” Clematis paused. “That I remember.” His younger years in Los Cerros were a bit of a blur, which probably meant he was getting old. It happened to everyone, even fairies. Soon, he’d be forty.
“Nope.” Tarō sighed. “But I miss it anyway.”
“Well, I can’t now.” Clematis gestured in front of him. “Flor wants to buy me a coffee.”
Tarō threw back his head and laughed. Mishi scrubbed her face as if embarrassed.
“You try to do something nice and suddenly you’re a cockblocker.” Flor sighed to the sky.
“You’re not a cockblocker.” Clematis got to his feet and lamented that he had shoes on and couldn’t feel the grass between his toes. “Tarō doesn’t mean it. He never does. I finished it.” He held out the bottle for inspection.
Flor looked up from his phone. “Your glitter isn’t any better,” he observed critically, his eyes very dark. “Let’s go.”
“But the table?” Clematis let Flor take the empty bottle from him and put it in the paper bag.
“Tarō is here to relieve me. My shift is over.” Flor tossed his head. He really was in a mood. But Tarō had known him for years and years, so it was no surprise he’d seen it first. “Mishi, have you seen my—”
“Your bag is under the table.” Clematis rubbed his nose, something turning and tight in his stomach like nerves. Flor forgot his mood enough to smile thanks at him, then grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. Clematis decided he must be hungrier than he thought and hurried after Flor when Flor began to walk. He barely remembered to wave to the others. Clematis didn’t bother.
“There’s a little café up University Avenue if you want to go back out the main gate,” Flor suggested. Clematis knew that café well. It was more of a bakery than a coffee shop. “Or, if you don’t,” Flor continued, knowing somehow that Clematis did not want to go in that direction, “we can take the south entrance, stop at Starby’s, get you something with drizzle. You got a license today, Clematis. Dude. I would be screaming.”
