More Than a Crush

Maeve

Myla pulled the thin straps of her dress over her delicate shoulders, reaching down to smooth the fabric over her belly. “What do we think of this one?” she asked, doing a little twirl.

Gemma looked over at her, a tube of lipstick in her hands. “Oh, I think that’s the one. Green is definitely your color, My.”

Myla smiled, fluffing her bouncy black curls as she bent closer to the vanity mirror. “Have you decided what you’re wearing yet, Maeve? We have to go soon. The train to the Uni leaves in an hour.”

I had been standing in the corner of Myla’s room, staring out the window that overlooked the sleepy street outside. It was only five o’clock, but the village was almost lifeless. “Where is everyone?”

Gemma smacked her lips in the mirror over Myla’s shoulder, pulling her long brown hair forward over her shoulders. “Should I leave it down, or up?”

“Everyone’s going to the social tonight, silly!” Myla left the vanity and opened the large wardrobe that took up the majority of her snug little bedroom, rummaging around and pulling out a pair of heels. “What size shoe are you, Maeve? If you wear the red dress, I think I have something that’ll match”

“There is NO way she’ll fit in your shoes, Myla!” Gemma giggled, pulling her hair back as she turned from the vanity. “Her feet are way too big! Up, or down?”

“Wear it down,” I laughed, ignoring her remark, reaching for the blue dress I had laid out on the bed. It wasn’t nearly as fancy as what Myla and Gemma were wearing, just a simple silk dress with silver embroidered flowers near the hem and tiny, practically useless spaghetti straps. “I don’t think I can dance in this one,” I said as I held it up to the light, admiring the delicate flowers. “I think the straps will snap.”

Gemma snorted with laughter as Myla reached up, cupping her breasts. “Oh, I wish I had boobs like yours, Maeve.”

“That’s what you think now,” I said, pulling the dress over my head and shimmying into it, the fabric snug around my chest and waist and falling loosely over my thighs. “Imagine not being able to fit into any of those trendy shirts you like… or having to wear a bra ALL the time.”

“Oh, please, you never wear a bra!” Gemma pointed out as she sat on the edge of the bed, pulling on a pair of knee-high, high heeled boots.

“Are you guys staying the night?” Myla asked, fluffing her hair once more.

I nodded, but Gemma gave us both a sly look, her eyes creasing playfully.

“Sure, unless I meet my handsome mate to entertain me for the-”

“Okay, okay!” Myla laughed, waving her hand at Gemma in dismissal. “Cleo will be home, and up, if we get separated and you need a place to crash for the night, okay? Let’s go, I want to get there before all the food is gone.” Cleo was the midwife who had raised Myla. I’d met her a few times.

They walked out the door as I hastily pulled on a pair of white sneakers, taking one last look at my appearance in the mirror before following them out onto the street.

“Sneakers? Really?” Myla asked, giving me a look.

“I’m still taller than you when you’re wearing heels, My. I don’t want to stick out too much-”

“Sticking out is the whole point!” Myla protested, wobbling in her heels on the gravel road.

I smiled to myself, catching Gemma’s knowing glance. Myla would likely find her mate tonight, we thought.

The University of Mirage was at the center of the city, at least twenty miles from the Castle of Drogomor. The main village of the Drogomor, where we were now, used to be entirely cut off from Mirage before a railway had been built between the two towns. Two decades and a boom in population later, the boundaries of the two towns had bled into each other, creating one sprawling

metropolitan area that covered miles and miles of land. The train was the fastest way to travel, but many people took small boats along the river that snaked through the city, parking their crafts at personal or public docks that stretched along the river’s length.

I had only taken the train once during the almost four months I had spent in Valoria. Ernest had taken me on a tour of what was now called the Twin Cities, pointing out the major landmarks and new infrastructure that had been built since the war’s end so many years ago.

Rowan would love it here, I thought dismally. It was a little too noisy and crowded for my taste.

After nearly half an hour of walking we made it to the edge of Old Town, the old boundary of what was once exclusively the village of Drogomor. A train depot stood in the distance, the platform swollen with people waiting for the next train to the city center.

We could have taken one of the cars from the castle, but I liked to try to blend in, and that would do anything but allow me to do that. The social was being held on the grounds of the University of Mirage, which was its own city in itself. The University opened its arms to students from dozens of packs, and its inclusiveness gave me a level of anonymity I wouldn’t otherwise have. I could just be Maeve, at least for an evening.

“Oh jeez, I doubt we’ll be able to find a seat,” Myla and Gemma walked ahead of me, their purses bouncing on their hips as they reached the counter and bought the train tickets. I stood back, looking around, admiring the stocky stone buildings of Old Town. The Wisteria vines were starting to bloom, and tiny purple flowers dotted the buildings. Magnolia trees hung heavy with buds of their own, and soon the entire area would smell strongly floral from their large, white flowers.copy right hot novel pub