Enjoy! First: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1251840016 Next: none yet Previous: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1280299584/ Chapter Nine: I woke clutching a pillow. Sunlight peeked through the blinds and I squinted at the light. “Mora left to get the car,” Tate said, sipping a cup of black coffee. “They’ll be back soon.” She was already dressed in an oversized tee and cute shorts. “What do we have for breakfast,” I mumbled, sliding out of bed. “I made myself toast,” she said, lifting her piece slightly. “Want some?” “I’ll make some. Any extra coffee?” Tate gestured to the coffee machine and I popped a pod in. I took a gulp of the bitter liquid and shuddered. “How can you drink it black?” “It’s pretty good,” she supplied as I dumped some sugar packets and little creamer pods into the scalding drink. I warily tried it again. “Good, but hot. I think I burned my tastebuds off.” Tate laughed and tied her hair into a messy bun, as it kept falling in her food. “You can get ready while it cools,” she suggested. I took leggings and a tank top to the bathroom to change. When I came out, Mora was back from the auto lot. “Let’s check out,” they decided. “Get your stuff and let’s go.” ————————————————————————— Mor headed over to the front desk and was doing . . . stuff. Tate and I were close enough to overhear, but not super close. Mor was using their soothing, convincing voice and I expected us to be ready to go. The woman at the front desk laughed. “You think charmspeak will work on me?” Mora’s eyes widen for a second. “What?” “Yeah,” the woman said. “I recognize when someone uses charmspeak.” She leaned in closer. “I recognize demigods, as I am one.” “So, daughter of Hermes?” Tate asked. “I figured you started this for travelers and the name is The Caduceus.” “You must be a child of Athena to figure all that out,” the woman said. Tate nodded. “You wouldn’t consider letting us not pay, would you?” Mor tried again. “Sorry, I’ll need some pay to keep this open,” she said. “Though I would be willing to give you a discount. How about 30% off?” “40,” Mora haggled. “35%, final offer,” “Deal.” Mora fished some American dollars out of a wallet and handed them to the woman. “Dang it,” they said as we headed out. “We’re down to about.” They calculated in their head before telling us. “Ooh,” Tate commented. “That’s not a lot.” ————————————————————————— We got into the car and started driving. We had stopped in Indiana, close to Illinois.
Mora rolled down the windows, because it was just about 100 degrees in the car with the A/C broken. The wind tugged on my pony tail and danced with Tate’s loose hair. Her hair swished around like a quick-stepped, beautiful ballroom dance. Mor smirked at me through the mirror. “Come on,” they said. “You two clearly like each other.” We blushed bright red. “Just get together already!” “Um . . .” Tate said. We were both looking to avoid that conversation. “Okay . . .” She pulled out a book and leaned on the edge of the car, careful not to let her hair fly out the window. “No one ever listens to my matchmaking,” Mora grumbled.
