Mated to a Human

☽ 15 ☾

I've woken up nine times to a text from Abby, and they all say the same thing: Harvey isn't back yet. Usually, I sleep through my phone alerts; it's only a soft buzz on my nightstand and a moment of dim light but waiting for Harvey has put me on edge, and once I read the text, I can't fall back asleep.

What was assumed to be a week of Harvey helping another pack in Maine has turned into a hodgepodge of spacey, distracted days and endless, restless nights. I was late for work three times and missed an assignment deadline — something that hasn't happened since high school.

On Saturday night, Abby texts me repeatedly about getting together, but I'm too busy helping Harper to conjure excuses as to why I'd rather stay home. Harper tries on six different outfits out of her closet and four from mine but can't decide on anything to wear on her date with Delsin. "I still think the black skirt was nice," I tell her while lying belly-up on my bed, "and you can wear those winter-tight things you just bought."

"That was stupid. It's way too dressy. I can't look dressy," she mutters, still rummaging through my clothes. "Maybe I should just wear sweatpants."

"Or you could go back to the jeans."

"They're too tight. My stomach will bulge if I sit down."

"Not with the lighter pair."

She turns. "Those ones are ugly, Mia. Come on."

"Then leggings. Black leggings. They're not dressy but not as shapeless as sweats." I pick up my phone from beside me when it vibrates. Another message from Abby.

"What if it's too cold?"

"Are you hanging out outside?"

Harper groans. "Fine. I'll just wear a thick shirt."

I push up as she speeds back to her bedroom, and I listen to her rifling for a few seconds before grabbing my phone to read Abby's text and send an answer, but when I actually read what she's sent, my brows pinch together: Put on outside clothes. I'm coming to get you.

I try to call her, but she doesn't pick up. How does she know I'm in my pajamas?

Harper returns with black leggings on and a grey crewneck sweatshirt twice her fitted size. "This good? I'm just gonna wear sneakers."

"Uh — yeah. You look cute."

She checks herself briefly in my mirror. "Okay. I'm leaving. I'll see you later."

"Are you going to be back before Mom and Dad?"

"If I'm not, I'll text Mom that I'm at Kimmy's or Sandra's or something."

Do I seem like someone who wears pajamas all day?

I disregard my thoughts, and tell Harper, "Okay, but don't be out too late. You know, don't do anything crazy."

She peers at me. "Crazy? What does that mean? Don't snort anything?"

"No, just don't stumble through the door at five a.m. pregnant."

Harper scoffs. "Funny. Really. Bye."

She pops back out of my room before I can spew another pointless warning; Harper's going to do what she wants to do just as she's always done. I wake my phone and flash Abby's text to read it again. I stretch to look out my window to make sure her car isn't there, and luckily it isn't.

A sense of urgency washes over me as I come to a decision; Abby's on her way, and I have mere minutes to get dressed. I slide off my bed and snatch my favorite jeans from the floor, dropping my pajama pants and yanking them on. My foot fails to slip through the pant leg as I wobble only on my left, and without both feet to catch me, I fall to my butt. The sound of a car makes my nerves spike, so I pull the other leg up on the floor and scramble up to switch my top for one that doesn't have Snoopy on it.