R’jaal keeps to my side, even when I slow down as the path grows steeper and a thick snow starts to fall. To his credit, he doesn’t try to push me into returning to camp. In fact, he doesn’t say anything at all.
It’s unusual, but it suits me just fine. I head along one of the paths, scanning the cliffs for the sweetweed. There’s a fair amount of plant life that thrives under the snow (I guess they don’t require much sunlight) that the dvisti eat, but for our part, we tend to stick to the stuff that clings to the cliffs and the bushes that dot the landscape. Sweetweed is one of the cliff vines, so I keep to the rockier parts of the trails and wander along, keeping an eye out for tiny curling leaves and a bluish-green sort of plant.
“I fear we are not friends any longer,” R’jaal says suddenly as I climb over one large rock.
Oh. Errr. How do I answer that without being unfair? “Things just get weird between people when they break up. Not that we were together, but you know what I mean. It’s not just you. It’s how I feel about the situation, too. All of it is just kind of awkward.”
“I do not know what you mean,” he says gravely. “What is broken between us?”
He has to ask that? Is he being deliberately obtuse or is he truly that clueless? I frown in his direction, and then I’m saved by the sight of a sweetweed plant halfway up one of the cliffs. “Aha,” I say, pointing at the object of my desires. “Found one.”
R’jaal practically races forward. “I will retrieve it for you.”
He’s clambering up the cliff wall before I can protest. That’s a little irksome, but it beats having a tough conversation. This is probably difficult for him, too, and I feel a twinge of sympathy. “Great, you get that one and I’ll head farther down the path. Where there’s one, there’s got to be more.”
We collect in silence for a bit, the retrieval of the plants occupying our time. The moment R’jaal points one out, he heads for it, and so I deliberately go find another, and I think about the awkward situation that got us here.
It was all during that first year, when everyone was resonating right and left around us. When it seemed like it was just a matter of time before our khuis went off like rockets and solved the problem of who we’d mate to. I’d been flirty with R’jaal for a while. He’s handsome, and thoughtful, and sweet. Very gallant, something that makes me appreciate his selflessness, and he seems more mature than a lot of the others. As the oldest single woman amongst the humans, I can appreciate a bit of maturity.
I thought we were a natural fit. And the way he shyly flirted back with me, I thought he felt the same way. So one night, during a party to celebrate someone’s resonance (I don’t even remember whose), I approached him. Took him by the hand and led him back to his hut. Once inside, I stripped out of my outer layer of leathers, put his hand on my breast, and kissed him. Let him know that I wanted to try being pleasure-mates, no strings attached. I let him know I washis. That I was leaping forward in this next step.
And he said no.
It baffled me then. It still baffles me a bit now. A man turning away a willing woman? But R’jaal was firm. He wanted to wait for resonance. He wanted that special bolt of lightning, and he was convinced it was just around the corner, and all he needed to do was wait.
So I turned and left. At first I was humiliated, but then it made me angry. And as the tribe has whittled down with only a few single people remaining, it’s ironic that both R’jaal and I are yet un-resonated. Something tells me that fate is going to pair us together and we’ll have to give this mess between us another shot…and I’m a little bitter about that.
Apparently I’m only good enough for him if resonance says I am. All the flirting? All the sweet looks and the few stolen kisses? They don’t mean anything unless we have that song going in our chests. It makes me mad. What if I never resonate? What if I’m not fertile because I’m over thirty-five now? Am I just not worth anyone’s time unless I’m a fertile womb?
Fuck all that.
Just thinking about it again irritates me, and I hack at the next sweetweed plant with more than a little annoyance. When I climb down from the cliff wall, R’jaal hands me another cluster of vines. “We should head back soon. The snows grow heavier.”
“You go ahead. I’m not done yet.” Please, please just go away.
But R’jaal doesn’t take the hint. He gives me a sad-eyed, soulful look. “I never meant to hurt you, F’lor.”
I shake my head at him and head farther down the path. It occurs to me that I’ve gone a lot farther away from camp than I anticipated, which means a long walk back in the driving snow. Don’t care. Snow is just more of a mild annoyance with the khui keeping me warm, and I know how to find my way home. I can keep going a while longer.
“Will you talk to me?” R’jaal asks.
“What is there to talk about? I threw myself at you, you said no, it’s the end of the story.” I gesture at a distant cliff. “I’m going to find more sweetweed.”
He grabs my arm when I turn away. “I would like for you to ask me again,” he says in a low voice, his somber eyes shining. “This time, my answer will be different.”
I gape at him. Is he…serious? But I can tell from his expression that he truly is. He has no idea that the last thing I feel for him right now is attraction. And yet he wants me to give him another shot? Is this because Daisy has decided to pounce on O’jek without resonance? Is he feeling desperate now?
Is that it? He’s desperate and decided I’m good enough once more?
I try to wriggle out of his grip, but my poncho gets in the way. “Look, R’jaal. We weren’t together and you made it clear that even if youwereattracted to me, you want to wait for resonance. That’s fine, but what makes you think I want to jump in the furs with you now? How do I know the moment your khui decides to light up for someone else I won’t be booted out the door?” I shake my head. “That kills any sort of attraction I might have had. The ladyboner is dead, all right?”
“Lay-dee bo-ner?”
“It’s just a phrase. What I’m saying is that you want to wait for your best shot, which means I’m always second best. And I’m not good with that. It tells me that you think you’re not going to resonate to me, so sleeping with me would be a mistake.”
R’jaal scoffs. “I do not think I am going to resonate to T’ia, if that is what you are worried over.”
“Oh no? Some part of you must,” I point out, and try to delicately pull my arm out of his grasp again. “Because you’re still waiting for resonance.”