Lorran

Chapter 1-2

Wyn searched the paper for dehumanized commerce but found only brown swatches. “What is it supposed to look like?”

“Not as red as burnt umber.”

That helped her not at all.

Sonia’s hair was a vivid red today. Colored wax tinted her curls a new color every few days.

Both art students in college, they met in drawing class their first semester and immediately hit it off. Wyn liked Sonia’s brash attitude. She held nothing back, good or bad, and provided balance to Wyn’s quiet nature.

Sonia worked with her in the same insurance company call center. It wasn’t the most inspiring place for two artists, but it paid the bills and gave Wyn plenty of time to let her mind wander to daydream. After Oscar left, they shared an apartment for budget reasons but also because Wyn didn’t want to rattle around an empty apartment on her own. It was a good match. Despite Sonia’s biting sarcasm, innate grumpiness, and absolutism that clashed with Wyn’s organic chaos, she had never let her down.

Sonia tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “You’re thinking.”

“Admiring your hair. It really goes well with your sweatshirt.” Faded to the point of being no specific color, the sweatshirt hung off Sonia’s slim shoulders. The color worked with Sonia’s coppery complexion. Wyn had to pick her colors carefully or she looked washed out. She always felt a little envious of the way Sonia could just wear anything, even ratty old sweatshirts, and make it look like a fashion statement.

Finding clothes that fit Wyn’s boobs and butt was a struggle. Button-up shirts were a no-go. Too many buttons had failed to hold the straining fabric together. Making a fashion statement was too much to ask when all Wyn wanted was a pair of damn pants that fit over her hips and didn’t gap at the waist.

Sonia glanced at the phone on the bed.

Wyn casually placed her hand over the phone and the pamphlet.

“Who called?” Sonia asked.

For a moment, Wyn considered lying, which would be a shitty thing to do considering Sonia would eventually find out.

Wyn took a deep breath, ready to rip off the proverbial bandage. “I finally got myself tested. I’ve been stressing about it for months and I just had to know, so I thought I’d get it over with and know, you know? I just got the call that I’ve been matched. His name is Lorran Rhew, and I forgot to ask what planet he’s from or where I’m going, and I have to be ready to go by my birthday. They gave me some bonus money, and I want to give you half for the rent, so you won’t have to work for at least a year and just focus on your painting.” She sucked in a huge breath, holding it while she waited for her friend’s response.

Sonia nodded slowly. “Okay…that’s a lot to unpack. You volunteered for the test?”

Wyn let out a sigh. “I’ve been trying to work up the courage to do it for ages now.”

“Sunday flowers?”

“Sunday flowers,” she agreed.

Sonia tossed herself down on the bed next to Wyn. She stretched out, arms behind her head, and stared at the ceiling. Then she giggled. An uncontrollable giggle. The more she struggled to not laugh, the harder it became to stop laughing.

“It’s not funny,” Wyn said.

“You’ve been…buying flowers…for months…” She wiped tears from her eyes. “I thought you just liked fresh flowers, but you’ve been too chicken to do the test. That’s classic Wyn.”

“Yeah, well—” Wyn struggled for the correct words. “I know it’s not a big deal to you, but I’m freaking out.”

“There are loopholes. We’ll get you out of it.”

“I’m not sure I want to get out of it.” There. Her big secret—the tween crush that never went away—out in the light.

Sonia sat up. “You want to go?”

“Maybe? Fine, yes. I want to go. And they’re giving me a stupid amount of money.”

“Blood money, Wyn. They’re buying you.”

“It’s compensation for lost economic performance, that’s what the brochure said, and there’s enough money for you not to work for at least a year and just paint. You can tell the call center to suck it.”

Sonia’s brow wrinkled. “I do enjoy telling people to suck it,” she said, sounding unconvinced.

“Enough money to help pay for my parents’ meds. Since I volunteered, I have extra time to get ready. And I prefer to think of it as alien booty money.”

“Everyone wins, huh? Wow, that is some internalized oppression. You totally bought what they were selling.” Her words were cynical, but Sonia almost smiled at the mention of alien booty money.

“It’s the best outcome. I’m making lemonade here,” Wyn said.

Sonia pushed her hair off her brow and made a frustrated noise. “This isn’t a make-lemonade-out-of-lemons situation. You’re the lemon. The patriarchy is making lemonade out of you.”

Wyn sprung up from the bed. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you. I’ve been trying to work up my courage for months, months, and all I kept thinking about was the little lecture you’d give me if you found out.”

“You didn’t want to tell me?”

“It sucks. Obviously. I’m being given—like a puppy—to a stranger, and I barely know his name. f**k. I think the application to adopt a puppy asks more questions than the volunteer center asked me today. Okay, forget the puppy. That was a bad analogy, but the point is this is happening and it’s happening on my terms. You can respect that and help me, or you can keep your opinions to yourself.”

Wyn paused, waiting to apologize for her harsh words but needing to be firm.

“But I’d really like my friend to support me because it’s f*****g terrifying,” she concluded.

Sonia’s eyes went wide. “Oh. Wow.” Then a grin spread across her face. “You found your spine. About damn time, Winnie. I was beginning to suspect that Oscar took that with him when his sorry ass took off.”

“I have a spine.” Wyn crossed her arms over her chest, all keyed up for an argument.

“I’m trying to tell you that I’m glad you’re pushing back. Since he left, you’ve been down. Not as bright. Like your spark was gone.”

“We were together for five years. That’s a hell of a long time. Of course, I felt depressed.” The fucker broke her heart. Okay, maybe not, but Oscar was comfortable, and she honestly could see them together forever.

Then he got bored and the insult to her pride hurt worse than her heart because Wyn was anything but boring. Oscar tagging her in social media posts about his latest inspiration or gallery showing didn’t help. Leaving prompted a burst of creativity for him, and Wyn hadn’t picked up a brush in nearly two years. She made cute little figurines to sell because chasing her muse didn’t pay the bills.

“It’s called grief, and it’s normal,” Wyn said.

“And grieving Wyn got pushed around by people. You just existed. I can’t even remember the last time you worked on a painting,” Sonia said.

“I got pushed around by you,” she retorted, because focusing on that was easier than poking at her lack of creative mojo.

“And I’m a d**k. I know. I go on my tangents—”

“Rants.”

“But this isn’t about me. It’s about you doing the things you want to do, the way you want to do them. I’m so damn proud!” Sonia positively radiated happiness, sitting cross-legged on the bed. “So, what do we need to do? Oh my God, have you told your mom?”

“I literally just found out, so no.”

“You have to call Alana right now.” Wyn rolled her eyes, but Sonia said, “Don’t. Your momma is scary when she’s upset, and this will upset her.”

She had a point. The first Thanksgiving in college, Wyn brought Sonia home, since she had no place to go. Her parents welcomed Sonia without reservation and considered her to be another daughter. This covered all the good stuff like hugs and unconditional support, but also the bad stuff like judging life choices and speaking their minds.

“Fine, but let’s do dinner first. Mom will not let this go with a quick, ‘Hey, guess what? I married an alien and I’m moving. See ya.’ It’ll take hours.”

And Alana would insist on helping Wyn with the arrangements. She wished the arrangements didn’t sound so much like planning a funeral, but she had no idea what they would entail. Packing, certainly. Selling unneeded stuff like her vehicle. Transferring the utilities to Sonia’s name. Banking was supposed to work off-planet, but she needed to double-check.

Okay, there was a fair amount to be done.

“Let’s splurge my alien booty money on pizza,” Wyn said.

“We are not calling it that.”

“Booty. Money.” Wyn reached for her comm and pulled up the food delivery app. “The usual? BBQ Chicken with red onions for me. Sausage and mushroom for you. Done. Are we done talking?”

Sonia frowned. “You weren’t going to tell me.”

Wyn shrugged. “Eventually.”

“That’s really shitty.”

“I know. I was working myself up to it.” Never mind that it took her months to work up the nerve to volunteer for testing. “I was definitely going to tell you before the military showed up on my birthday and hauled my butt off-planet.”

“Yeah, probably five minutes before the knock on the door,” Sonia muttered. “f**k, I’m going to miss you.”

“Hard same. You’re my best friend. I can’t imagine not talking to you every day or arguing about who used the last of the coffee creamer.”

“I can’t believe you’re smiling. How can you be happy? You don’t know this alien or what he’s like, just that he’s willing to pump you full of alien babies.” Sonia sounded incredulous.

Wyn touched her face and discovered that she was, indeed, smiling. “It’s just…look, I’m glad the will-it-happen-or-won’t-it is over. And it’s scary, and this Lorran Rhew is a stranger—”

“Who might be a giant d**k bag.”

“Who might be amazing,” Wyn said in a gracious tone, “or a giant d**k bag. I can’t control that. You know those year-long galaxy cruises? Travel the stars on a luxury star liner. See the best sights in the universe. Be pampered like a rich f**k and never have to do your own laundry? I feel like I’m about to go on that trip. It’ll be a year of inspiration and plenty of time to work on my art.” Her stomach fluttered from excitement and nerves. It was amazing and terrifying.

“If you want to travel, those ships hire all the time. And the cabins are way too small for a studio. And it’s not a year, it’s for life.”

“Drawing or watercolors, and I know that.” Wyn liked the messy spontaneity of watercolor, but she loved drawing with charcoal and how it got under her nails.

“What if this alien is a giant d**k bag? They’re bigger than us. Stronger. And you’ll be all alone.”

“Then I’ll get a divorce. I’m not without my rights.” Wyn grabbed the much-scrawled upon pamphlet and waved it at Sonia. The counselor at the volunteer center made sure Wyn understood her options if her match turned out to be less than amazing. But Wyn refused to believe that her Lorran Rhew was anything short of perfect. He was her alien, and he would cherish her. That’s what they said about the Mahdfel. Okay, on the network they said a lot of nasty things about the aliens, but there were just as many people singing their praises. “The divorce rate is really low too.”

“You know why that is, don’t you?” Sonia asked.

“Because everyone is blissed out on alien wang and living happily ever after?”

Sonia’s cheeks flushed, which might have been a blush or might have been frustration. Wyn had no way of telling. “Just don’t build him up in your imagination too much,” Sonia said.