Before Soratia

Problem Solved-Mei

Mathias has a girlfriend. I'm not surprised, but it's been ripping Marina apart for the past four days. At this point, I'm not sure what to do—my jokes and empathy only seem to make her cry harder.

"Mar, please. He doesn't deserve your tears." I patted her shoulder awkwardly, offering her another tissue. She blew her nose and the tissue landed in the heap beside the garbage can, which had been filled half an hour before.

Marina took in a raggedy breath, folding her wings around her body in a protective manner. "You don't understand. You think I'm crying over him having a girlfriend. That's not it at all," she shook her head, wiping a stray tear from the center of her cheek. I held my breath, afraid to speak. Marina had finally stopped crying.

"Then.... what is it?" I said almost inaudibly after a pause. My words would have to be careful; Marina's composure was fragile.

"It's h-her. His g-girlfriend," she stammered, as if recalling a terribly unpleasant event.

"Grace? But she seems so—" I stopped mid-sentence. Marina's face contorted at the name, but no tears came this time.

"You don't know her," Marina croaked. "You didn't see the smugness on her face when she told m-me." Her bottom lip began to tremble.

"Told you what?" I pressed, determined to find what was making her so upset.

"That he was HERS!"

"...Okay. That's the type of thing people in relationships say all the time. Like, you know, 'she's mine' or something along the lines of that. She may be a bitch, but there's nothing wrong with saying Mathias is her boyfriend."

Marina glared at me. "You think that's it? She's using him! She's using him, using him for his status and money, and he doesn't see it!" She brought her fist onto the wooden floor in exasperation.

I sighed. "And you know that how?"

"You do know I can read minds... right?" She hissed between her teeth, the glare intensifying.

I facepalmed myself, to demonstrate the level of idiocy I had displayed. How could I forget? I'd known Marina since we were kids, and she had always been a mind reader. I supposed it was just the stress, and the fact that Grace had seemed like an extremely kind person, but nevertheless...

"I'm sorry," I said. I meant it. "Go on with your story."

Marina's anger once again became replaced by sadness as she recalled the memory. "Well, to be fair, she didn't exactly say she was using him. Nobody goes around thinking, I will use someone for this. She had several images at the front of her mind, one of her and Mathias standing in front of a mansion, another of her being surrounded by cameramen and interviewers. It's not the same as thinking it, but she pretty much pictured what I told you."

I exhaled, feeling the tension decrease. For the first time that day, I let out a laugh. "Oh, Mar, the girl is just having fantasies about her wealthy boyfriend! It's nothing to worry about. I doubt they'll last longer than a few months."

"You sure?" A glint of hope shone in her eyes, similar to the one when I'd told her she could attend my tutoring lessons with Mathias.

"Certain."
She hugged me, engulfing the both of us with her wings, her lion tail resting on my thigh. We hadn't hugged in a while, since Marina, unlike me, wasn't a hugger. I was glad our conversation didn't end in an argument.

Leaving her house, I used the plox— a box-shaped seat with wings on the side, made to float half-bloods down from the homes of Soratians, which were situated high up in the sky. Kind of like the ones elders used to descend the stairs, except these floated straight down. When I got to the ground, the plox, ridden of my weight, floated back to Marina's home, where it was attached by a rope. To pull it down, someone from her house would have to drop me another rope, which prevented unwelcome and wingless intruders from appearing on their doorstep. That was the difference between the homes of halfbloods and the homes of Soratians — the latter were much safer. Since ours were situated on the ground, anyone could come to our doorstep, whether winged or wingless. Not that the ground was limited to halfbloods. I myself knew several Soratians who lived on my street, especially the ones who had half-blood families, but the majority of them preferred to stick to the skies.

I looked at the sky, where the two suns shone— one on the north side, the other on the south. Since it was nearing sunset, they were both descending— the north one slightly bigger and redder than the one going south. I headed north, since that's where my house was— a small, red rectangle, with a nearly flat roof and two small, circular windows on the top floor, like two careful eyes watching over the street. Two identical bushes covered the windows on the first floor, in between which stood the white door.

Opening the door, I was immediately crushed by my mothers arms. She was a short woman, only 4'11, and it was clear I had inherited my height from my father. She was a halfblood, and dad was pure, meaning I was technically 3/4 Soratian. On paper, that would have counted me as Soratian, if I had been born with wings, which, to my bad luck, I hadn't.

"Is your friend still upset over that boy?" She asked, taking a seat on the couch and gesturing for me to do the same.

"Not anymore," I replied, hoping it was the truth. After all, she had stopped crying, and our hug was certainly improvement.

"Thank goodness. Girls like you are too young to be crying over boys." She wagged her finger at me in warning, as if I had been the one bawling my eyes out over a guy.

"Yeah, Mom, I know." I gave her a tight smile and motioned towards my room. "Can I go now? I need to practice before Saturday's concert."

My mom shook her head and muttered, "You kids never have time for your mothers anymore. Only school and friends." She chuckled quietly to herself, before answering my question. "You can go, but eat first. You're getting way too skinny."

With that, she leaned back against the couch, ending the conversation.