Chapter 13: Safety first…

 Augustine: Song weaver, self-proclaimed Life Skiller. Will not get duped again! 

I crack open my trusty recipe booklet, one that I have been gathering together for as long as I remember. I clearly remember that the only reason behind me learning to read and write, was, so I can jolt down recipes. That is not to say I can't enjoy a good book, or didn't do my homework in school. It is just that, well, I enjoy cooking more.

My booklet has a system screen, and endless supply of pages. An extremely rare item. I remember that I tried to send Grandpa Thinker my letter for Yule one year, and it ended up in Dorian Serty's mail. Yes, I never got on the good list because I never listened to my parents. 

But that tank sent me my booklet, and a pencil that never ends. I send him back cookies and milk, thinking that grandpa Thinker has died, and that Dorian replaced him.

That even made the news. I think Armaros suggested something about adopting me, back then. Not that anything came out of his wishes. Leander put his foot down, and reminded his lovers that kids with living parents are not to be adopted, unless they have been abandoned. 

 Yeah, I nearly ended up in the Firebolt-Serty family. My parents soaked it all up. Anyway, I break myself out of my musings, and jolt down Atha's honey cake recipe. I write down how I came to know it. Then, I breathe in deeply, and go about making enough honey cakes, to stock a bakery. 

Atha and Vincent are training in formations. I begged off from it all, saying that we need funding. What better way to get more funding, than by me selling the food that I make?

Still, I feel that they should help me. As things stand now, it takes me the entire day, to make a couple of platters with honey cakes. I pile them in protective cases, and then place the cases in my bottomless bag.

Another present from Dorian. He has been making them for the past 3,000 years. He really should take over as the spirit of Yule. I mean, he makes more practical gifts than grandpa Thinker. 

My mother is sitting on the couch, waiting for me. 

"Where are you going at this hour?" She asks. 

"To stock the bakery on Fawn Street," I tell her. Honestly, it is not like I go clubbing, or do anything that she will disapprove of. 

Except for cooking...

"Tine, come over here," she pats the seat next to her, and I go to her. I sit next to her, and she bumps my shoulder with her own. "So, you have lovers?" 

"We haven't done anything but kissing," I tell my mother, mortified at what is coming. 

"You do know, that the rubber things that your father stocks your drawers with are..." she begins, but then I place my hands on my ears. "Tine, this is important. You might end up with aids!" 

She takes my hands in hers, and wrestles them away from my ears. 

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"I don't want to have this conversation with you," I tell her. She narrows her eyes at me. 

"And with whom do you want to have this conversation? Your father; a barkeeper perhaps?" She asks me. It is clear from the stern look that she is giving me, that I won't get out of this. 

What follows are the most horrifying 45 minutes of my life. Yes, my mother filled up enough time, for a normal sex-ed class. She even had a condom on her, which she forced me to put around a banana.

By the time she lets me go, I can barely stand on my feet. I think that, if someone gets a wind of the fact that I got the talk at 23, my image will be forever ruined. 

"And remember, the Naga would need two condoms," she calls, just as I am about to run out of the door. I shudder at the thought of suggesting to Atha that he wears condoms, and go out into the night. On the way, I stop at the apothecary. 

I would very much want to get down and dirty with my lovers. I mean, until the anal traffic becomes a common thing, I simply will feel like I am just playing at having lovers. 

The place is still open. I pass by the racks with cough medicine, the dried blood root, and then finally make it to the counter. The person I see behind it makes my blood freeze. It is Ashley. The elven girl in my class, that constantly tried to put me in pink dresses! I turn to leave, but she giggles. 

"Oh, if it isn't Tine. Still in need of a dress? I think I have one in my bottomless bag," she snickers at me. Oh, she wasn't always like that. It is just that, after I came out of my closet, she became bitter that she will never get the chance to date me. 

"I came in here for condoms," I say, straightening up. By this time tomorrow, the entire town will know that I have lovers. "A box of, uhm, slims? Yes, slims, for humans. And, uhm, extra-large ones for a Naga." 

"So, a box with S ones, and one box with dual M ones?" She asks. I scrunch up my nose at her. 

"Look here, Ashley," I begin, but she just shakes her head, and puts two boxes on the counter. 

"Look, you have some unreasonable expectations in your head about sizes. I have seen your thumbs, Tine. And I know for a fact that Vincent's thumbs are nothing to write home about, either," she tells me, and rings in the boxes. "That would be a gold coin." 

I fish out the coin, and slam it on the counter. 

"You are the one with the false expectations," I tell her. She smirks at me. 

"Maybe so, but I am almost never wrong. If, by some miracle, your hook-ups don't fit inside the condoms, you can always come in here, and I will give you a refund," she says, and then points at the wall clock behind her. "Closing time is in five minutes. I have to lock up now. It was nice seeing you, sugar fairy." 

I narrow my eyes at her. She is nicer than usual. I suddenly feel an uneasy feeling pooling in my stomach. 

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