15

Kaitlyn

"You talk. I'll pee first," Sydney snaps as she pushes past me. She runs into my open bathroom and dances in place as the door shuts behind her. "Mushroom kits are all over your apartment! Pink ones in here! Once my bladder empties, we're talking shrooms."

"Do you have any last-minute questions for us or want to talk about this? After some bitching about your reindeer's smell, you didn't say a word the nine-hour trip. We're worried about you," Vera says, admiring the picture of me and my brothers hanging beside my front door.

"What can I say? I'll never ride another animal bareback as long as I live—even if my hoo-ha recovers from the damage of today's ride. I can't believe we stopped for me to pee twice as often as the preggo lady. Thank the heavens, my landlord installed numerical code boxes on the doors last summer, so we didn't need the keys Serik blew up with my car. I can't wait for my new phone to install my apps, so we can order food. I could demolish fifty donairs and about one hundred platters of poutine right now." I count on my fingers.

"I think my hopeless romantic friend means… Do you want to talk about your dushevnayasvyaz?" Sydney shouts over the deafening flush of my aging toilet. She kicks the door open as she washes her hands. I don't miss her pocketing my partial tube of toothpaste.

"Who are the guys in this picture?" Vera points at my brothers' matching grins and bald heads.

"We took Tommy's kids to the premiere of the last princess movie in theaters. Tommy's my tall brother with the kid on his shoulders. He claims some of those urchins are friends of his kids, but I'm skeptical. The way he and his wife pop them out, they took ‘single family dwelling' as a challenge to fill their home with babies," I explain, joining her in front of the photo.

"So, your family is fertile," Vera murmurs.

"Vera! You dropped your mental filter somewhere," Sydney scolds her. "Go pee while I apologize profusely for you calling a woman's family fertile—like she's from a herd of livestock."

"I'm not offended. In fact, she reminded me," I say, returning to the coffee table where I left my new phone. "Tommy ordered my replacement phone. After I send for food, I must reimburse him. He's a used car salesman whose biggest sale was my exploded SUV. I guess it won't be so bad to give him another big sale. His budget is tighter than the leggings you gave me."

"Don't knock the leggings. You made a fashion statement with the furs you strapped over them. We're lucky our rideshare driver wasn't a P.E.T.A. supporter. Your shirt was a polar bear cub," she says with a giggle.

"I wondered why he kept asking me about rifles and hunting licenses. I was like, ‘how would I know?' I never thought about the den of foxes tied to my legs with sinew…after he saw us dismount from riding reindeer bareback."

"I love how he didn't question us on it, though," Vera remarks as she emerges from the bathroom. "If Tommy's the one with all the kids, who is the other guy in the picture?"

"That's my younger brother, Henry," I say to my newly synchronized phone. "Even though that picture is several years old, it's the last time the three of us were together in person. Henry's latest ‘true love'—and I do mean to use the air quotes—lives on the beaches of Belize. His last soulmate island hopped around Greece while the one before that had a remote villa in New Zealand. The manchild travels the world on the dime of cougars."

"So, if you physically disappeared for love but kept in touch by phone, your family wouldn't bat an eye? I thought you left Serik because you had ties to our world," Vera suggests, sitting on my couch. I hand her my phone to select her dinner from the delivery service options.

"Don't look at me," Sydney says, slowly lowering herself beside Vera. "I have zero ties. On paper, I'm dead. Untraceable. Non-existent."

"Untraceable fingerprints? Then why are we sitting around here? Let's rob a bank and a liquor store, and drive off into the sunset," I joke, but it falls flat. "No, I didn't leave Serik for family or because he's terrible. I hate the Chuchunya lifestyle. I'm awful at hunting, fishing, foraging, handicrafts, and sewing—"

"So is Vera, but she makes it work," Sydney quips and earns a jab in the ribs from Vera. She takes my phone and keys in her order.

"You grow mushrooms," Vera observes, pointing to the giant logs sprouting fungus on my windowsills, the three logs on my kitchen table, and then to the stump on my coffee table where I grow my toadstools. "You could barter mushrooms for anything you didn't want to make or hunt."

"Emphasis on the barter," Sydney says with a pointed look at Vera. She returns my phone, so I can pay and complete our food order. "Don't let the clan's mooch turn you into a second mooch."

"Thanks for the hint on fitting in, but there are other ways I can't be a Chuchunya mate," I mumble. My face heats a thousand degrees. I focus on unstrapping the warm pelts from my legs, while formulating how I should bring up Serik's monster cock. Not to scare pregnant Sydney, but she must be wrecked downstairs. Her Chuchunya is a bigger beast than Serik by half. His baby isn't going to be an easy ten-pounder to deliver.

"Can we help?" Vera asks sweetly. She pats my knees as if I'm anxious about something benign.

"Not if I don't dive into my last bottle of wine," I reply, leaving the crowded couch for the kitchen. I've never had a gal pal, so I don't know how to handle this. Vera and Sydney's friendship is from their undergraduate days, almost two decades old. I suspect they've shared the naughty deets on Chuchunya sex, but will they be open with me? "Sydney, I have a few cans of soda or sparkling water."

"What's your chocolate situation?" She asks without moving a muscle.

"I've got cookies—made by the brand name elves themselves. That's all I have until we unpack the grocery delivery of candy bars you two ordered," I reply with a chuckle. Poor delivery dude will probably laugh his ass off at the cases of candy bars accompanied by the cases of toothpaste Sydney and Vera demanded as part of their payment for helping me.

"Bring on the elves' finest, and sparkling water would be great," she answers in a fake, queenly voice.

After the food is devoured, showers deplete my hot water supply, and their bags are repacked, we settle in a pile of blankets on my foldout couch like a true stagette. Growing up with two younger brothers who love pranks, I never invited friends over to spend the night. A piece of my childhood I didn't know I missed out on is complete. Vera braids our hair while Sydney demolishes all my snacks.

And they were definitely my snacks because my friends were quick to squirrel away the ones I bought as payment in backpacks by the door. They will have to fill the empty gas cans tomorrow to bring to Adam as his payment for running interference with any Chuchunya males who check on their mates…or former mate…

"All right, you win," Vera relents as she slumps over in a fit of giggles. "I'm drunk enough to listen to why you left Serik without remembering a word of it in the morning."

I open my mouth to point out Sydney's sober…but why? It's not like I will ever see them again. These aren't true friends—no matter how much I love the pretend idea. As long as I word my concerns in a way that casts the best possible light on Serik, my confession shouldn't trouble him. What male wouldn't love complaints that his dick is too big? No, I need to approach this delicate subject with grace and maturity…

"So, how do you take a snow monster cock without splitting your clit?" My wine-drunk brain blurts out the most indecent option swirling around my head. I finish off my glass to cover my shame and horror at what just popped out of my mouth.

Vera laughs so hard she snorts, which makes her laugh harder.

"I can't even," Sydney says, rolling over in a fit of giggles. "I just can't believe you said that! You're so poised and professional! Just hearing the words cock and clit come out of your mouth makes me think you're demon possessed."

"Well, I said my problem with Serik was fitting in…you just didn't hear the end of my sentence," I reply before devolving into a puddle of giggles.

"My hip was injured when I first—you know-ed—with Artyom. I was high as a kite on Chuchunya pain herbs, so that's an option…if you are scared of pain," Vera says in a timid voice.

"I'm not scared of pain," flies out of my mouth. Maybe I should put my wineglass down before my lips become looser. The last thing I need to divulge is my pain kink when discussing Serik. "I'm scared of lasting damage."

Vera and I turn toward Sydney.

"Oh, for Pete's sake," she snaps around a bite of cookie. "You are stretchy. You aren't a virgin, right?"

"No—"

"Not that it matters anyway," she interrupts. "Serik's broken in a few virgins."

"I don't think she wants to hear that, Sydney."

"It doesn't matter. Serik told me about his pleasure mates and how they were the opposite of pleasurable. We were honest about our sexual histories."

"See? Where was I? Oh yeah, I took Sergei's V-card. Yeah, talk about frightening. The monster had a loaded weapon and didn't know how to use it, but I patiently taught him and survived. Lots of oral play, lube, and finger stretches…if you get my meaning. You don't have to worry about Serik in the bed chamber department and if you are, I'll trade you Chuchunya lube laced with painkiller herbs for shrooms."

"I know it sounds silly," I say with more confidence after Sydney's over share. "Let's say Serik doesn't fit. Where does the rest go?"

Sydney's eyes water as she tries her damndest not to laugh at me.

"When his knot inflates, it lodges into your entrance," Vera explains slowly. "Did you think the whole thing went up there? No wonder you fear scrambling your organs! I mean, I'm not pregnant, so maybe we are doing it wrong…"

"Vera! You're not pregnant because you are obsessed. Once you let go and enjoy your mate, you will conceive," I say, grabbing her hand and squeezing in support.

Her gaze trails off to look at Sydney. Sydney's purple with giggles now.

"No gatekeeping," I snap. "Let out the giggles, but spill the info, too."

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, I can't even with this conversation! Vera's right in that the knot stays at your entrance," she says, wheezing and squeaking as she controls her laughter. "Don't even try to jam that bugger up your vagina. What fits works, what doesn't fit can ‘do the rubbin' on the nubbin, got it?"

"Nubbin?!" Vera and I yell at the same time.

All three of us laugh at our ridiculousness as my cares melt away. Vera is half my size and finds pleasure with her mate. If it were a problem, she'd be high on herbs all the time. If I were to have sex with Serik, herbal lube could help us…or at least herbal care afterward could heal me.

I wouldn't be alone. Looking around my temporary apartment, all I see is evidence of loneliness. From the microwaveable ‘meals for one' to the single toothbrush at the single sink, I'm furnished for one person without a second thought to a husband or family. My empty walls resemble Serik's account of his zima walls. Empty. Lonely. Sure, I have TV, but am I suffering to watch it?

The singular personalization I've done to this apartment is the picture of my brothers. It's a remnant of an old life, but still, it's a time when they had family while being my only family. Where did the time for me to create a family go? Not that I want a noisy, messy, child-filled, flat-broke household like Tommy's, but disappearing to enjoy the fruits of a romance like Henry's life sounds nice. I stare at their picture long after Sydney retires to my bed and Vera snores at my side on the foldout couch.

What's done is done with my Chuchunya. While I'll always keep Serik in my heart, my heart will be with him. According to his dushevnayasvyaz nonsense, he will crash through my door within days of finding me missing. What a joke. I'm the stereotypical nerd girl. We don't get the grand gestures from fairytale heroes…not when we run away. We watch rom coms and read spicy novels to experience them second-hand.

Maybe I'll order an exotic new mushroom kit…and name it Serik…so I won't feel so alone…