by R.L. Naquin
~*~
The next few days were pretty rough. The light sensitivity was an easy fix. Sunglasses did the trick, and it kept me from turning anyone to stone by mistake. But no hat was big enough to cover all those snakes, and I wasn’t about to do a full-body spray tan every time I left the house.
So much for my degree in herpetology.
Dad called the stealth insurance company and got the runaround. Since my parents had let the insurance lapse instead of actually telling me what the hell was going on so I could transfer it to my name, getting the insurance started again was enormously expensive. I didn’t have enough in my account, and neither did Mom and Dad.
I’d have to save up for months to have the money. The catch to that was I couldn’t go to work anymore, not without the insurance. People prefer to buy hand lotion, mints, and toilet paper from people who don’t have green skin and a head full of snakes. I had no choice. The life I’d been living was over. I’d have to go to wherever non-human folks lived and start over.
Oddly enough, I wasn’t too upset by that. Sure, I’d miss my parents. I couldn’t think of too many other things I would miss, though. And this might sound crazy, but once I got a good look at myself in the mirror, I was thrilled. Seriously. For the first time in my life, I was hot. Maybe not the kind of hot that would get a guy’s attention or make other women jealous, but that never mattered to me. I liked what I saw. The skin color. The snakes. The curve of my cheek and the fullness of my lips.
I was finally comfortable in my own skin—proud, even. Ironic that I couldn’t go out in public like that.
So, when Garmond Schumacher, the six-foot tall minotaur, showed up at my front door in a snazzy business suit, I was ready to leave with him before he’d finished his spiel.
The bull-headed man sat on my sofa and cleared his throat. “Temporary housing will be provided for you, and you’ll meet with a career consultant to find you a good match.” He braced his hands against his knees and gave me an earnest look with his large cow eyes. “I know this is all new and difficult. We’ll do everything we can to ease you—”
“I’ll go pack my suitcase.” I leaped from my chair. “How much stuff can I bring?”
He flicked an ear and blinked. “Pack a bag, and we’ll send for the rest once you’re settled.”
My parents gave him sheepish smiles.
“She’s been cooped up for a few days,” Mom said.
I ran up the stairs and tossed clothes into a suitcase as fast as I could pull them off hangers and scoop them out of the dresser. I threw my toothbrush, toothpaste, and shower gel into a toiletry bag and stopped. What else could I possibly need? Hair products were out. I’d never need those again. I never wore much makeup before, and now that I wanted to, nothing was appropriate for my new coloring.
I shrugged and zipped the bag. Fairyland—or wherever the hell I was going—had to have drugstores, right? Oh, gods. I truly hoped I didn’t get stuck working at a supernatural drugstore for the rest of my life.
Once my suitcase was packed, I paused and looked around my room. With the exception of the snake habitat in the corner, the room looked more like a guestroom or a motel room. It was as if no one had ever lived there.
In a way, I never really had.
I pushed my sunglasses up the bridge of my nose. “I’ll send for you, Daphne. I promise.”
