Chapter 11

RHEA

My bedroom door creaks open and I throw my arm over my eyes in response. "Go away," I murmur.

"Do you have someone with you?" Sage asks.

"What? No, of course not." I shuffle up in bed and search around for my glasses, keeping my eyes closed until they're on my face and my friend is safe from any accidents.

"Oh, I just thought because you left with that Jack guy..."

"We're just friends," I say quickly.

Sage frowns and heads over to sit on the end of my bed. "Really?"

"Yes. We met at group grief counselling sessions, it's not exactly a dating situation."

She frowns. "It's just, the two of you were acting like it's something. And he came to comfort you when you were upset."

"It's just because he gets it, Sage. He knows how I'm feeling about Granny in a way most people don't"

She looks down at my covers. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Not being able to understand better."

"Hey." I reach out and touch the witch's hand. "You're doing a great job. Promise. I had a good time last night. Well, other than getting a little upset and then losing my glasses."

"You lost your glasses?" Alarm crosses her face.

"Mmhmm, these are my spare ones." I touch the frames. "What do you think?"

"That I wouldn't have noticed and that makes me a terrible friend."

Despite myself, I let out a laugh. "It doesn't. They're the same as the ones I lost. I learned that it was better for my spare pair to match my original pair long ago."

"Oh phew, then I feel a bit better about that."

"I wouldn't have thought twice about it anyway." It normally takes people a while to realise I have new glasses.

"So you're not dating Jack?"

"No," I say quickly.

"Because of the stone thing?"

"Hmm?"

"In the past you've said that it's because you don't like the risk of accidentally turning a partner into stone while...you know." She waves at the bed.

"You can say it, Sage, we're adults."

"Right, I forget sometimes. You worry that you'll turn someone into stone while having sex." She shifts to make herself more comfortable.

"It's a genuine worry," I respond. "But actually, it wouldn't be an issue in this case. Jack's immune to gorgon magic."

"How is that possible?"

"He's a gargoyle, so he's kind of made of stone already."

Sage snorts. "Sorry, there's just so many dirty jokes you can make from that."

A small smile lifts at the corner of my lips. "Yeah, I guess so. But on a more practical level, he can't be turned into stone because part of his DNA means that he's already made of stone." I don't mention the fact he's struggling with that part of himself. I trust my best friend, but it's not something that's mine to reveal.

"Wow, that's kind of cool."

"I guess? I haven't really thought about it much." Except I suppose that isn't really true. The fact he's a gargoyle is one of the things that I think makes it so easy for me to be around him. It makes me relax to know that I can't turn him into stone by accident.

"Okay, so you clearly enjoy spending time with him, and you can't accidentally turn him into stone, so to me, that would seem like he'd be the perfect person to date."

"Would you be asking all these questions if he was Jaqueline?" I ask.

"If you'd been acting the same way last night, then absolutely, yes," she responds, looking at me with a stern expression. "So what's the problem?"

I sigh. "I have snakes on my head." I gesture unnecessarily to my bonnet, though my snakes are still happily curled up in there, nesting amongst my hair. Or perhaps they're hungover too. That wouldn't surprise me.

"So?"

"Isn't that weird? What happens if we're in the middle of a hot makeout session or something and then a snake slithers over his hand and freaks him out?" I can't believe we're talking about this when it's a moot point. Or the fact that I can kind of imagine a situation where it could actually happen with Jack.

I push that thought out of my mind. We're just friends, I don't need to complicate things more than they already are with both of us are grieving.

"He knows you're a gorgon," she points out. "It's not a surprise that you have snakes."

"Well no, I guess not." And in this specific, non-existent case, Jack has met my snakes before and didn't seem to react very strongly to them.

"Then I think it's up to him whether or not he feels weird about it."

I rub a hand over my face, unsettling my glasses as I do.

Sage instantly closes her eyes, something I'm grateful she does every time I knock my glasses. It's exhausting to worry about accidentally turning people into stone all of the time, but I'm lucky to have a friend who understands and actively works with me to make sure it doesn't happen to her.

"It's safe to look," I say.

"Oh good." She opens her eyes again and flashes me a smile.

"I guess you're right," I agree. "Whether the snakes are weird is up to him. But it's a moot point because nothing is happening between us."

"Well, if you decided you wanted something to change, then you shouldn't let the snakes make the decision for you. You should talk to him about it. Or take a potion that puts them to sleep or something like that. Does that even exist?"

"I can't imagine it doesn't," I respond. I know gorgons, and they'll do anything in order to avoid the complications that come with our psychology. "But I don't like the idea of it. What if putting them to sleep makes me dumber or something?"

Sage laughs. "Yeah, I could see that being a worry. I don't know how connected your brains are for that."

"Connected enough." Especially with the fact the hangover is affecting them. The poor things. They really shouldn't have to suffer because of my bad decisions. "Did you have a good time last night?"

"I did," she says. "And today, I'm looking forward to having one of Castor's butterfly buns for breakfast."

"Not a very balanced start to the day."

"It's my hangover cure," she says brightly. "What's yours?"

"Burying my head in the pillow and pretending I don't have a lecture in a couple of hours."

"It's already half eleven."

"Then pretending that I haven't already missed my lecture."

Sage laughs. "Well, it is Friday. And everyone knows that the day after your birthday is a dud day."

"More like everyone knows that Thursdays are student nights."

"True." She gets up and heads to the door. "Can I get you anything?"

"Just peace."

She laughs and heads out into the corridor, leaving me to nurse my hangover, and my thoughts, alone.