by Flynn Eire
“Seriously!” I bitched as I fell to the floor.
“Crap, you opened the closet, didn’t you?” he groaned from the hallway. I didn’t even get a chance to answer before he was in the room with me, chuckling. “I guess you really did need one of those alarms, huh?”
“Just get me out,” I snapped from the bottom of the boxes, completely uncomfortable. “I don’t want to tip them over worse or ruin your stuff.”
“Very considerate considering a few of them look to be sitting on your spleen.”
“Yeah, feels like they are too,” I griped. He moved fast and then I was free. Philo reached down and easily plucked me up. “Ouch.”
“I’m not giving you hazard pay.”
I rolled my eyes as I rubbed my back, really hurting. “Cute, real cute.” I glanced around at the boxes. “Seriously, what’s in them?”
“Mostly books. My family knows I like to read and they send me new ones in their care packages.” His cheeks heated slightly as if uncomfortable he was being so personal with me.
“Are you against sharing?” I hedged, rubbing the back of my neck. “We have a library.”
“Xana transfers out what inventory we get in after so long. These were gifts.”
“I’m sure he can set aside some shelves just for your books that others can use but he won’t ever trade out with other camps. There’s gotta be a sticker system or something that he’d be cool with.”
Philo pursed his lips together as he crossed his arms over his chest but then nodded. “Okay, fine, but I’m not doing it and none better get stolen. My family gave them to me.”
“I’ll go talk to Xana,” I sighed, rubbing my back again. Then I stepped over a box, only to slip on a lone book. I let out a yelp and almost landed on my face but Philo caught me in time.
“Sorry my books hurt you. Are you really okay?”
“I’ll be fine. Haven’t been doing too much physical lately and now washing your whirlybird and cleaning your room isn’t exactly push-ups and sit-ups,” I joked. Then I hurried out of there, more than ready to get some distance from him.
I checked the laundry on my way to Xana’s room, and by the time he agreed to Philo’s terms, excited to have access to a stash of new books, the laundry was ready to be forwarded again. Xana and Gilroy raised an eyebrow at me when we stopped in there and I simply shook my head.
“Post-trans fun. Always watch where you are when you’re griping, no matter how valid it is.”
“Ahhh, and there’s a lot of warriors who just look for whiney post-trans to abuse them with their chores,” Xana chuckled. “Personally I don’t like other people touching my stuff.”
“And you’re a neat freak so no one does as good of a job as you do,” Gilroy snickered, giving his mate a loving look.
“Anytime you want to clean—”
“No, I make you treats.”
“That you do,” Xana agreed, grabbing his mate around the waist as we headed to Philo’s room.
“I’m with Xana,” I offered, not that they really asked. “I prefer to be the one doing the cleaning. No one ever does it right in my mind. I always cleaned the pre-trans bathroom when I was one because no matter whose turn it was, they just didn’t do it anywhere near clean. Then again my mother was the cleaning lady for the women’s warrior camp on the East Coast.”
“They get a cleaning lady?” Gilroy asked. I nodded, not looking at them. “That’s so not fair. There’s only two female camps and they get a cleaning lady? There’s a lot more of ours, we’re out in the middle of nowhere, and we don’t get cleaning people.”
“It’s why we don’t,” I chuckled, shrugging. “My mom would go a few days a week from our coven and clean the common areas, check the supplies in the bathrooms, and such. I went a lot when I was a kid and helped. Those were the only warriors I was ever around and so this camp was a total trip compared to what I was used to.”
“Oh, your dad wasn’t a warrior? Were you the first in your family?” Xana asked, and I winced, realizing how I walked right into that one.
“No, he was. He died in combat right after I was born,” I mumbled, looking away when I saw Philo’s eyes fill with pity. That was the last thing I wanted. “Gilroy and Xana said they’d take whatever books you’re willing to share to the library so you can get your closet back and Xana’s cool with your terms.”
“Yeah, you’re not the only one who’s got books in our library,” Xana added, catching I didn’t want to talk about the other topic. “Everyone’s really good at taking care of them and signing them out. We haven’t had a problem yet besides one getting lost since I took over the library twenty years ago.”
“One in twenty years?” I asked, my eyes bugging out at that.
“Xana takes his books seriously and is way too scary for people not to respect the books,” Gilroy bragged. I thought it was a cute thing to be so proud of his mate for. I wanted that one day, someone thinking that my cleaning tendencies or organizational skills were something to brag about to people.
Silly but true.
“All right, let’s clean out my closet and see what I’m giving up,” Philo sighed, closing his book with a huff.
“We don’t have to do this tonight. We can go back to watching our movie,” Gilroy said, shooting me a look.
“No, tonight because that’s all he’s got me for cleaning punishment this time,” I replied firmly, giving Philo a look that said clearly this wasn’t going to roll over to tomorrow as well.
Shockingly enough he nodded in agreement. So they cleaned out the closet while I threw the next load in the washer, figuring there were at least three more after that one.
Heaven help me. How long had it seriously been since he’d done laundry?
They had just cleaned out the last of it when I got back so I hurried to vacuum that part out, returning it to the main closet so I wasn’t hogging it in case someone else needed it. Yeah, that made me chuckle too. I seriously doubted the thing was used all that often and not just from the way it had dust on it that I vacuumed off of it.
I took notice of their progress as I went back and forth to the bathroom to dump the dirty water of the carpet cleaner and refill it with clean hot water. It was interesting to see bits and pieces of the whole scene.
“Baby, you know where I keep my colored labels for books. Can you grab them for me?” Xana asked as he looked over a stack.
“You just want to watch me walk away and then miss me,” Gilroy quipped.
“You know it.” Sure enough, the massive warrior watched his mate walk off with appreciation.
“So that’s going well? Good for you,” Philo muttered as he glanced over some other books. “I’m glad you’re happy.”
“Thanks. I never thought he’d notice me or my interest. Seriously, I came in with such lame excuses with my computer it was embarrassing. I hate that he was taken and what they did to him, but it’s what finally brought us together.”
“Weird how things work out like that.”
Then I went back to cleaning, and by the time I was ready to dump and refill, the conversation totally shifted.
“I’m not saying authors of today are better than of old, not even close,” Philo defended, shaking his head. “I’m saying I appreciate the variety. There are books on topics that would never have been allowed when I was young and no one bats an eyelash at it.”
“Oh, I get you. Yeah, I do appreciate that. The poetry now sucks though. Nothing like the classics.”
“Well, yeah, but those are classics for a reason. I mean, same with music.”
Xana blew out a harsh breath. “I guess, but music now is just so different that it doesn’t compare.”
“Maybe, but if a book came out in verse or iambic pentameter people wouldn’t take it seriously and think it was pretentious just for doing that.”
And into the bathroom I went, shaking my head. They were still talking about that when I came back out, but when it was time to dump and refill next that was what I almost fell
laughing at.
“No, I didn’t mean all classical music sounds like elevator music to me,” Gilroy growled, shoving some books in a box. “I’m just saying without the words of a song it’s just notes and people can get as pretentious as they are with Shakespeare and the Bible and blab that they know the only interpretation, but let’s be honest, there are so many options that people could spend lifetimes coming up with alternatives.”
“Music speaks to everyone differently. You don’t need the words,” Philo argued.
I set down the container and grabbed one of the bottles of water he’d brought, opening it up and watching the tennis match.
“I’m saying I prefer the words. To me it’s not a song without the words, because that’s what makes it have real emotion, not just an open road of possible feelings depending on who’s listening and what mood they’re in. If that’s what you want, that’s fine, but it drives me nuts when people talk about Bach and the obvious moods his music brings up. It’s just notes.”
“I agree that there’s a lot of jerks who act like they know more than they do but to say music’s not music without words sounds kind of judgmental, baby,” Xana pushed as he labeled a book. “I mean, wasn’t that your point not to judge.”
“Fair enough. And I wasn’t saying that’s the standard for all. I was saying for it to mean something to me. I wasn’t trying to take away Bach’s song rights. It is a song.”
I couldn’t take it anymore. I burst out laughing. I laughed so hard water squirted out my nose. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I choked out when I saw three unfriendly looks in my direction. “I swear I’m not laughing at what you’re saying.”
“No, just at the nothing else going on around us,” Philo drawled, adjusting his neck. Wow, he was really annoyed. Mental note that he didn’t like to be laughed at.
“No, it’s that I keep coming in and out of the conversation, catching snippets of it and how it’s progressing and into what from Xana flirting about Gilroy’s butt and it just hit me and, yeah, it’s funny.” I started laughing again, leaning against the wall even. “Maybe it’s the chemicals. I don’t know. But one trip out here you’re hitting on your mate about his butt, then it’s Shakespeare, then Bach, and yeah, all over free books and the seven bags I’m up to cleaning up the hazmat in here that Verge says I need a PASS alarm for.”
“That’s funny,” Gilroy snickered, getting the joke.
“Verge is a funny guy. Subtle, but yeah, lots of good zingers,” I agreed.
“Nice crush you’ve got on him,” Philo commented dryly as he slapped the lid on one of the boxes and slid it over to Xana.
“Umm, I don’t actually,” I muttered, my cheeks heating. God, he really did always know how to make me feel stupid. He was the one drawback to wanting to be a chopper pilot at this camp. “We’re just friends.”
“Sounds like it,” Philo snickered, rolling his eyes.
“He’s like my only friend,” I snapped, something breaking inside me. “Of course I think he’s cool. He’s not my type though, okay? I’m not sure how it’s your business and it’s really not appropriate for you to be commenting on that in front of others or making me feel uncomfortable about it. Penalize me with more cleaning duty, I don’t care, but you’re my instructor now so you’re supposed to be professional now too and stop always making me feel so stupid or I won’t ever learn anything.”
I ignored all their shocked expressions and grabbed the water container before storming back into his room. The only flaw with my big blowup was, not even ten minutes later, I had to clean out the container again. I couldn’t face them yet. I just couldn’t. So instead I opened the window and dumped out the dirty water like a coward and went over all the carpet I’d already cleaned, pulling up as much of the wetness as I could.
Then I really did have to go out there and face the music. I kept my head down and hurried, my cheeks so flushed with embarrassment I was worried I might pass out.
“You okay?” Gilroy asked me as I rinsed out the container. I’d been so lost in my mortification I hadn’t heard him follow me into the bathroom.
“Of course. I’m fine.”
“Liar,” he said gently.
I sighed as I filled it up with hot water. “I’ve learned twice today that venting, even to myself, comes with consequences, so no offense, I’ll keep it inside. I can’t even imagine what that outburst is going to get me, but then again, things can’t get much worse.” I snapped my mouth shut so fast I tasted blood as I chomped into my cheek.
“I know things have been screwed up with training because of the early transitions and the freaking out over the attack, but have they really been that bad for you?” he pushed, his voice full of concern.
“Training’s never easy.” I shrugged, that seemed like a normal reply. Truth be told I hated it there since I had transitioned. I loved training with Dimitri but from the moment I’d opened my mouth about the stupid rumors about the post-trans initiation, Matteo couldn’t even look at me—and I couldn’t talk to him either—add in everything else, and I was miserable.
And now I was stuck with the hottest man ever who I totally had a crush on but hated because he was rude, demeaning, and downright cruel to me at times. Just thinking about that made my eyes burn.
“Jesus, how bad is it?” Gilroy hissed.
“No, it’s fine. I’m fine. Training’s fine, I love it here,” I lied before shutting off the water and hurrying out of the bathroom.
What else was there to say? I didn’t know Gilroy, and for all I knew, telling him anything would have me cleaning his and Xana’s room or the guard tower next. Better just to keep it all in and hope someone would teach me something ever. I glanced up, hoping my dad was watching me from above.
Can you kick someone’s ass into doing something? I’d really like to learn how to be a warrior like you and fly, even if I have to survive Philo to do it.
4 ~ Philo
“Sorry I upset you,” I tried after Norris finally shut down the carpet cleaner. Xana and Gilroy had left with the books, Gilroy shooting Xana looks that worried me after he’d followed Norris into the bathroom. Had I stepped into something more than just a trainee not getting taught the way he wanted?
Norris nodded his acknowledgement as he wrapped up the cord but didn’t say anything. Didn’t even look at me. Then he walked out with the machine and I blew out a huge breath, the tension leaving with him.
Why had I poked at him about Verge? I mean, several beers into the night and Norris making me feel uncomfortable about my room, life, and slobness probably made me lash out, but it also seemed more than that. There was just something about him that kept me on edge, made me feel off.
No, I didn’t know what it was or have a better explanation for it. I wish I had.
I bent over and wiped my hand on the carpet, wincing at how damp it was. I sighed and pulled out the hair dryer I never used, my mum having sent it because she heard Wyoming was super cold and didn’t want me getting sick all the time with wet hair. Right, because I had it down my back or something instead just normal ear-length. I plugged it in and sat down by where the dresser went, turning it on and wiggling it over the carpet while I opened my book again.
Norris said something so I turned it off. “What?”
“I was going to go down to the workroom and find foam blocks to put the furniture on like the pros do so it can dry overnight.”
I glanced around and shrugged. “It’s fine. I was just going to read tonight anyways. I can hold the hair dryer and do that. At least enough for where the dresser and bookshelves go, I guess. It’s not that wet.”
“Oh, okay, cool. Thanks.” He ducked back out of the room, and I turned it on again, watching him fold my laundry in the hallway. How had things gone from almost fun over tacos to completely awkward and bang-my-head-against-the-wall lame? Did he really think I was going to punish him for snapping at me about being unprofessional about his personal life? I wasn’t a dick. He got this crap because
he was on the clock and other people could have heard his bitching about Matteo’s work.
Him snipping at me right there when I deserved it was a whole different thing. I shook my head and went back to my book. I was done with a space big enough for the dresser when I moved on and Norris brought in the fan.
He cleared his throat and set it down. “There’s no way the mattress will be dry by tonight, sorry. You’ve got a really old one that just soaked up all the water. Might as well use the fan to help the carpeting.”
“I’m crashing with you then because I’m not sleeping on the floor or a wet bed.”
“Yeah, you warned me,” he mumbled and then turned on the fan. Well it would be so much fun to hang with him.
Or teach him. Yes, with this tension, I would love being around him at all. I’m sure it was all my fault in his eyes, and while my poking about Verge was uncalled for, his comment about me always making him feel stupid was unfair and upset me. I never tried to make him feel stupid or picked on him so I didn’t have a clue as to what he was talking about.
It was a good while later before enough carpet was dry to move the furniture back in. We did it without talking and then the mattress. I watched Norris finish folding the laundry and put it away even as he laid out my comforter and my sheets on the dresser.
“I think it’s going to be warm enough still that we can leave the windows open. It’s not supposed to rain tonight.”
“Yeah, sounds good.” I grabbed my keys and locked up, ready to crash after the weird ass evening. “Thanks for all of this. You did a great job, I mean, way better than I meant for you to have done.”
“You’re welcome.” He led the way to his room, the post-trans rooms were on the first floor since they were smaller and a lot more of them cramped together. He opened the door and let me in.
I winced internally. It had been a long, long time since I’d been in one of these rooms. I’d forgotten how tiny they were. There was basically room for the bed, dresser, kiddie desk, and tiny fridge under the desk.
“Wow.”
“Yeah, it’s a mess, sorry. I don’t really have the money to spruce it up and—”