I am entirely made of flaws, stitched together by good intentions Cut from clean white cloth only to become a tattered patchwork of my parent’s regret. Holes have been torn in the fabric of me and patched with life and color. But even if I like the quilt I’ve become, I am not perfect to them. Not perfect enough.

It’s hard to to be something that takes effort to love, An ugly and unholy mash of textiles at the back of a cupboard. I pray that one day, someone will discover me and gasp in delighted surprise. I hope they pull me free and wrap themselves in all the various colors and shapes of me. Maybe they’ll breathe in my history and smile. I am not the gleaming white robe I was designed to be, But I think I could make for a damn good blanket.

“Don’t fucking touch anything,” called our group leader over our headsets, “We don’t know what kind of space virus there could be on or in this ship and we don’t need another effing plague. Only the swaps touch. Then we cap and bag for the lab, got it?”

“Got it,” the other team members replied, “Understood.”

We all carefully spread out and edged closer to the wreck. The metal was torn open and jagged, exposing the inner belly and the glowing lights within. I stopped at a nearby piece of metal and swapped like my job required but my eyes wandered deeper into the steaming ship. There was a sort of pull to it, a draw that had me wanting to foolishly step closer. Of course we weren’t supposed to board the ship but I stomped through the snow and got as close as I could to one of the jagged tears where the metal had rended. It was humming, I realized. There was this low pulsating hum, almost like a heartbeat but it stuttered and stumbled occasionally like the entire ship was a wounded animal of some sort. I fished out another swap and swiped it through the nanotechnology jell that seemed to ooze out of the metal walls, glitching and glowing as it dripped.

Movement and the sound of something skittering inside the ship made me flinch. Quickly, I turned, trying to look all around with the narrow view through my helmet. I couldn’t see anything though but the feeling of being watched unsettled me in a strange way. It didn’t repulse me or send me running, rather it drew me in, calling me to seek it out and find the source.

“Hello?” I called but only my teammates responded.

“Aye Leira, you see something?” One of them asked. I breathed for a second, looking around before replying.

“I guess not. I think I’m just jittery,” I muttered. Another teammate replied that we should just hurry up with the samples and get out of this place but somehow the thought of leaving filled me with dread.

Throwing all caution to the wind and possibly even my job, I followed my impulse and stepped through the jagged metal to the interior of the ship. I clicked my headset off before calling out again.

“Hello?”

Just like last time I was met with that same pulsating silence.

Before I knew what was happening, something tackled me to the ground, throwing me so hard that my helmet cracked right along the glass and my nose began to bleed from where my face collided. I yelled, screaming and twisting in my suit until whatever being that had tackled me let me turn over and I could see it.

Him.

Or so my body told me, my subconscious whispering into my mind. He was graphite gray and chittering with more arms than me and more limbs than me too. And he was scaly yet leathery at the same time.

“I came to find you,” I tell him, the words coming out of my mouth in a bloody sputter as my nose continues to bleed. The words don’t even feel like mine. It feels like my body was preprogrammed to say them, “Let me be your companion.”

We obviously didn’t speak the same language, he just kept chittering but when he saw the blood on the inside of my helmet he stilled from trying to keep me pinned to the ground. That stillness lasted only a second and then his talon like hands were cracking the glass of my helmet open like an egg. I had to close my eyes to avoid getting any shards in them. Before I could open them though, something warm and wet suctioned to my bloody nose. I opened my eyes to see the glow of the ship blocked out, his head dipped into the space cracked open in the helmet. He was licking and sucking at my blood! If there was some sort of space virus, I was for sure going to die from it now, if I wasn’t eaten first. I didn’t feel like he was going to eat me though. Instead I felt safe as a rough tongue(?) licked my upper lip.

In the next instant he lifted his head. Only, this wasn’t the same creature that descended on me and tackled me to the floor. Two brown, very human eyes gazed down at me.

“Forgive me, companion,” He said, in perfect English, “I needed a sample to complete my form.” He then sat up and looked at himself and it was only then that it occurred to me he was naked and merely sitting on me. He looked at his fingers then felt his face and the silky brown hair that fell messily around his shoulders. “Though necessary to assimilate, I find this form to be inconvenient. Seems rather weak.”

Slowly, I eased up on my elbows to look at the man I had been summoned to search out and find by pure instinct alone. What on earth was I supposed to do with him? Be his companion apparently, but what did that mean?

“Good, the blood has stopped,” he mentioned, eyes finally wandering back to me. I only realized then that my nose no longer dripped and, instead, I could breathe through it normally as if it had never bled at all.

And then, we just stared at each other long and hard. I didn’t know what to say, he didn’t seem to either. It almost seemed like he was waiting for my direction. It was strange that he wasn’t freezing in this weather. The gaping ship provided little shelter from this arctic weather and he didn’t have insulated clothing on. He didn’t have anything on at all. I supposed he wasn’t human and he must not feel temperature like that. It seemed very apparent that he felt other things, though, as he finally climbed off of me and stood tall.

“What luck, a compainion and a mate,” he declared before reaching out a hand to me to help me to my feet, “Now we have no reason to be parted. Well then, show me to our home and teach me of your culture.”

Just like that, my body accepted the role and I gave him a determined nod.

“Let’s find something for you to wear first.”

If you’re reading this journal you’ve been inducted into the Mayfly Society. A series of locations and dates will be written here. These are places where we will fuck and then promptly forget. Mark yourself in attendance by drawing a mayfly. All those in attendance will bring proof of a clean test. We always meet at 1:38am, never sooner.

Room 605 of Powell Hall 11/14🦟🪰🦟🦟🪰

The Library’s Secondary Basement 12/1 🦟🦟🦟🪰🦟🪰🪰🦋

**—Ayo, why the hell is there a butterfly? This ain’t no butterfly society. **

— I can do whatever I want. Suck it

— I probably will.

The Roof of Building 600 12/6 🪰🪰🪰🦟🪰🦋

The men’s lockeroom of the natatorium 12/18 🦟🦟🦟🦋🪰🦟🪰🪰

**—Who are you people and why was I directed to this book? What is this? An orgy club? **

**— Ah, another new member. Orgies are just about the least interesting thing about us, little larva. Come. Have an open mind. Then never speak about it again. **

**—Yeah no. That’s a hard pass. **

---

---

**—Okay. Live your boring-ass life. **

---

—Why do you people keep getting strangers to pass me this book?

---

**—Someone wants you there, little larva. **

---

---

I bit my nails as I paced my dorm, thinking about it. They were meeting tonight. I knew where I knew when, but I knew literally nothing else. Was this some sort of party? Was this some strange club that would haze me? I wasn’t going to get roofied right?

Going sounded like a stupid idea but not going only made me excruciatingly curious. Someone wanted me there. Someone was waiting for me to show up. Maybe it was someone I knew. I had my clean bill of health in my hand— negative for any transmitable infections. It wasn’t like I needed it though. I’m not going to…

Okay, I won’t lie. Still, I don’t plan to. All I want to do is see who is there. That would be fine right? And if anyone tries anything, I have my taser and pepper spray. A girl can’t leave home without that. And if it’s somewhere I want to be, I can make the decision to stay when I get there. Right?

Right?

(A/N: sorry if this goes against community guidelines. There are litterally no other thoughts in my brain)

CW: slur

The bell for lunch rang and I burst out of calculus, striding down the hall to my locker. Kinsley was already standing there when I arrived. Her blonde hair was twisted into two adorably girlish Dutch braids with a headband covering the part above her bangs. She wore olive green overalls and mismatched socks with a scrunchie on her wrist. All in all, she looked as adorable as she did the day I first met her at Girls Camp when we were both Beehives. It was the summer before middle school and I couldn’t have met her at a more opportune moment. That single week together crafted an unbreakable friendship. I never would have guessed she’d be my bestfriend and rock as we entered our senior year at North High.

“Hey, guess who aced her first calculus quiz,” I sang to her, sauntering over to her with laughably exaggerated swagger. I lifted my hand for her to high-five me. She did but it’s half-hearted and so was her smile. That sobered me immediately and I tilted my head, looking her over.

“Hey, Kins, what’s up? Are you okay?” I asked her as I began spinning the combination on my locker and popping it open.

“Can we talk?” She asked me and she was serious, more serious than I’ve ever known her to be.

“Yeah, shoot,” I nodded, as I pushed my textbooks into my locker. Kinsley takes a deep, steadying breath.

“Look, I want to ask you something that I’ve thought about for a long time,” Kinsley said, her pale freckled cheeks becoming a bit pink. She wrang her hands but when that didn’t satisfy her nervous energy enough, she turned to playing with a loose thread along the side seam of her overalls, “We’ve been friends forever and I really don’t want to accidentally damage that. Because— like— you’re my favorite person ever. I don’t want to lose you.”

“Kinsley, just tell me what’s going on. You’re not going to lose me,” I told her, reaching out to take her hand in mine. I gently squeezed, hoping to reassure her. Inside though, my heart was beating out of control. I couldn’t take the anticipation. It was almost making me nauseous. The high from acing my quiz was entirely gone in an instant, “Take a breath and tell me.”

“Bryn, you say that but— this is kind of a big deal and I just— I don’t have any idea how you’ll react,” Kinsley said, squeezing her eyes shut. Dread painted her expression. This had to be big.

I would be lying if I said I wasn’t scared. But, at the same time that little part me, the part that has pined for Kinsley for years, sparked with hope. We were Mormon and because we were Mormon, having homosexual feelings was taboo to admit. It was even worse to act on them but I had had these feelings for so long, I knew I couldn’t avoid them. I had accepted them internally long ago. Maybe Kinsley was feeling them too and was finally catching up. I knew how painful it was to feel like your whole existence was a sin. I felt I could read that feeling on Kinsleys face now.

“Kins, it’s okay, there’s nothing you could say that would make me upset,” I said, shaking her hand and bending down so that when she opened her eyes she would find mine. After a few more seconds, her baby blues revealed themselves to me— only they were glassy with sorrow.

Most of the rest of the hallway had cleared out by this point, headed for lunch, so it was just the two of us and a few stragglers. It took her a few moments to deliberate but finally she took a breath and opened her mouth,

“I’ve been, um— experiencing feelings that I shouldn’t…,” She hesitantly began, and that was all I needed to know. It was obvious. It was beyond obvious. She wanted me like I wanted her and my heart couldn’t help but sing with joy. Without a second thought, I dropped Kinsleys hand and reached up to cup her aborbly round cheeks in my hands.

“Kinsley. You don’t need to be afraid,” I told her before bringing our foreheads together like we always seem do when talking about heavy things. The action made Kinsley burst into tears, “Nothing is wrong with you for feeling the way you do. Kinsley, I feel the same way. I’ve felt this way for years.” And then, feeling bold, I kissed her right on those rosy lips of hers.

Kinsley gasped and stilled, clearly surprised by the revelation that I too liked girls and that I too was in love with her. Her soft sobs stopped, getting caught in her throat. This probably was all too fast for someone who is just coming out, but I couldn’t help myself. I then leaned to wrap her in a hug but something stopped me.

Kinsleys hands were on my shoulders.

She was pushing me away. Her eyes were red and her expression was a mixture of confusion and repulsion. Surely, I was misreading things though. Maybe she wasn’t ready for PDA. Maybe I jumped the gun.

“What the frick?” Kinsley finally said in a watery voice after a minute. When I reached to cover her hands with mine, she batted me away, “Why the frick did you just kiss me? Oh my gosh, Bryn. Are you gay or something?” Tears still lingered in her pale lashes but she wasn’t actively crying anymore. She was just staring at me in shock.

Then she took a step back.

My world tunneled into a pinprick as my stomach fell to my toes.

“I don’t know what the heck is going on with you. I was trying to ask you if you would hate me if I dated Jax. Why the heck did you kiss me, Bryn?” She shook her head and I didn’t have any words to say. They wouldn’t form in my mouth. I was rendered completely mute. Kinsley wasn’t like me. She didn’t share my feelings. This whole time, she was trying to ask me if she could date my ex, Jaxon. Everything began to make sense as the mortification set in. She was scared of how I’d react because she was asking to break _girl code _not because she was coming out to me and confessing her feelings for me. I mattered to her, but not in the way that she mattered to me.

In that moment, something inside me broke.

“Bryn, are you lesbian? How could you kiss me?” I could hear her say, but her words were muffled and distant as my heartbeat grew louder in my ears. A small part of me wanted to correct her and tell her that I was actually bisexual but the other 99% of my body was telling me to run, “Bryn, that’s gross. Homosexuality is a sin.”

That final sentence, even though it was like I was listening to her underwater, was the last thing I could stand to hear. Trying to keep my breaths slow and even, I turned to my locker, shut the door, and began walking away from her down the hall. Nausea was building inside me. I was starting to feel like I couldn’t breathe.

“Bryn! Where are you going?” Kinsley called after me but I didn’t stop to say I was headed to the administration office. I honestly couldn’t speak and I was afraid if I tried, I’d start crying. “What about Jax?” She yelled.

I walked to the office and explained I felt unwell. I suppose my colorless face convinced them because they didn’t put up a fight. I signed out. I drove home. I fell into my bed with my jeans and backpack still on. My lungs were heaving and I could feel tears streaming down my face but I hadn’t sobbed yet. I was in too much shock. Then I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. It was a message from a contact named: Asshole.

Asshole: are you really a faggot? Asshole: really would have been nice if had you dealt with that crap rather than waste my time for five months. Asshole: Don’t tell me you think I was the one that made you gay

Finally a sob burst out of me, shredding my throat and lungs. Just like that, the fragile lie that was my life came crashing down around me. My life at school would change. My life at church and seminary would change. My entire world would change. I had assumed it was Kinsley that wasn’t ready to admit who she was, but at that point, in the throes of it, I realized it was me that wasn’t ready.

I planned to do this after graduation when my life wouldn’t be thrown upside down.

I planned to leave the church after moving away to college and starting fresh no matter how my family reacted.

I had planned so many things but the prospect of Kinsley feeling the same way I did, made me change them all. I would have done anything with her at my side. I would have protected her. I would have supported her. I would have loved her with my whole soul.

I already did and had for a long time.

Yet she wanted Jaxon, of all people.

I had never felt more alone than I did then in my entire life.

I knew that I had damaged our relationship beyond repair but I also knew that he had long since forgiven me. Still, forgiveness does not mean forgetting. We would never be the same. We would never have the same closeness we once shared but that didn’t mean we couldn’t be a friendly face to smile at in passing for one another.

When I caught his eyes on the way to my new assignment, he just shoved his hands in his pockets in the bashful way he always did and gave me that boyish smile I had once grown to adore— that smile I had been willing to do anything to see. He was surrounded by his new friends and he didn’t move to leave them but I felt greatful he merely even acknowledged me. I gestured down to the box in my hands, all of my belongings that would journey with me to my new department. He simply nodded. It was a silent goodbye. A silent ‘I’ll see you around’. He wouldn’t ever say those words to me. Talking would be too painful. Still, I felt the sentiment in his warm gaze. I nodded back and then, like that, I put one foot in front of the other and continued to the elevators.

This isn’t at all how I imagined things would turn out. Obviously, the best case senario would have been no emotional harm coming to either of us. But, life is messy like that. It can devolve in an instant, seasons can change in a single day, friendships you thought would last a lifetime can suddenly reach their final chapter. But between all of the messy moments, moments of warmth and calm, like this one, can appear.

As I stepped through the elevator doors with steely determination, I made peace with the marketing department and my time with him.

He was okay.

I was okay.

And everything would be okay.