Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75388 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75388 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
I nod but don’t sit down. “Thought I’d grab a cake or two to take back to my roomie.” Pretty sure Asha hasn’t crawled out of bed today. I’m not even sure she left it yesterday.
Stacy’s expression softens. “Poor Asha. She’s really struggling lately. Here, I’ll make her a cake and put some of that peppery spice on it that everyone seems to like so much. You want some on yours, too?”
“Me? God no.” I make a face. “I like having sinuses, thank you.”
She chuckles and gets to work, patting some shredded root crap and then adding something that looks like lard from a tiny bowl and then seasoning from another. She forms a cake and then gently lays it in the skillet. As she bends over, I see her baby’s on her back like a papoose, his fists waving in the air. Aw, cute.
“How is Asha as a roommate?” she asks. “Are you two getting along?”
“Oh, it’s great. We both hate it here, so you know, that’s a real bonding experience.”
The guarded look returns to Stacy’s face. “You hate it here?”
“Just a joke,” I say quickly. Clearly Stacy takes my sarcasm for truth. Which it is…but just a wee bit exaggerated. I can’t really hate it on the ice planet if my sister loves it here. “It’s taking some getting used to, that’s all.”
But she still looks worried. “Should I say something to the healer about Asha? She’s clearly depressed—”
“I’m sure she’s fine.” Great, now Stacy’s going to be up Asha’s ass, too. I’m sure my sour roomie will love that. “I’ll talk with her, okay?”
Stacy flips the cakes with an expert toss, and then slides them onto a small plate that looks like it was made from the vertebra of something whale-sized. “I can—”
“Nope, it’s good. I’m all good. I’ll go talk with her right now. Thanks, Stacy.” I snag the plate and rush off before she gets any ideas, even though I know I probably just pissed her off. I’m the one who has to live with Asha, though, and I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t appreciate a pep talk.
I make my way through the busy cave purposefully, acting like I have somewhere important to be so no one else stops me. Everyone’s always so chatty and there’s not a lot of privacy. It’s like sharing your living room with forty strangers, and everyone brings their crafts out into the main cave to work together or talk to one another. Two men have their skinning frames set up off to one side and are scraping while they talk in the alien language that everyone seems to know but me. Someone else has spread a blanket and is watching a baby crawl, and a few other people are gathered and look like they’re doing sewing or weaving or something equally domestic and totally out of my repertoire. I know how to mix drinks and balance a cash register, not this other garbage. At some point I guess I’m going to have to learn, but the thought depresses me.
This isn’t the life I signed up for. No one wants me here. I’m not useful. I’m not even pleasant to be around. I’m not making babies. Oh, and I’m fat, which means I eat more, and there’s talk about food shortages in the winter months, which makes me anxious. At what point do they start giving me the stink eye because I’m chubby and like my food? Of course, Lila won’t let them be mean to me, and then I’m even more depressed because I’m the one who should be protecting Lila, not the other way around.
The privacy screen is over our doorway, and I hesitate, holding the steaming cakes close. The whole ‘privacy screen’ thing is supposed to work like a door, or rather, the sock on the doorknob that roomies hang to let the other roomie know not to come in. No one’s supposed to acknowledge you even exist on the other side if the screen is up. Which I guess I get, but now I’m officially locked out of my own room and I don’t hear anything but silence on the other side.
Asha locked me out so she could take a nap? Screw that.
I listen for a moment longer to make sure Asha’s not having really quiet sex or something, because I would feel like an ass if that was the case. Except I’m also pretty sure Asha hasn’t bathed or left her bed in days, so I doubt she’s feeling sexy.
Fuck it. I push the screen aside and go in. “Yo, Asha. I got breakfast for you. Or I guess it’s lunch at this point, but whatever.”
The interior of our small cave is dark and depressing. I don’t have much shit since I’m new, so my side of the room is nothing but a heap of furs that makes up my bed. Asha’s got a few baskets lined up along the wall, but I’ve never seen her crack them open. Actually, I’ve never seen her do a hell of a lot. As a roommate, she sucks. Either I get to sit out in the open and have people ‘nice’ me to death, or I can come and sit in a dark room with Wednesday Addams here.