Alder Heights College I don't know what my pieces were before they were me

Fit

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and I don't know what they'll become after. ― Becky Chambers, A Psalm for the Wild-Built

An afternoon spent lovingly curled up in the deepest, darkest corner of the college library and not doing what she should be doing: looking for a job. The place held new meaning now. It wasn't just a library (though there was no such thing as 'just a library'). Because now she knew that Sara worked there and she couldn't undo that knowledge. Not that she wanted to. But it meant choosing library visits with more care, lest she inadvertently show up when Sara was on shift and get all hot and bothered or knock over a stack of textbooks and receive the death glares of dozens of students.

Nope. Better to go when a certain someone was not working. So she had.

The walk back to her apartment was significantly reduced by cutting through the sports field (ie. hugging the periphery lest a stray ball bean her in the face). En route, she passed someone putting up flyers on the board normally clustered with info about upcoming games, parties, and used textbooks for sale.

"Mattressess...?"

She hadn't meant to say that out loud.

fit no sunglasses

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Sure, starving students might not be the ideal customers to advertise to for mattresses, but that was were special discounts came into play! He was just that nice. (He totally did not mess up his last order and added an extra digit to the three units of the affordable model he had meant to get in inventory. But yes he did and that was the last time he'd place an order the day before the full moon.)

He was putting the last pin in his was-less-cooler than Bree's poster when someone said the magic word! He turned around and grinned to the, hey, a human!

"Mattresses!" He repeated. "The average person spends at least the equivalent of a hundred days per year sleeping, isn't that crazy? No. What's crazy is to not get a good mattress. When the budget allows, of course."

Hence the 20% rebate! Which pained him almost as much as a shift.

Lydia's budget did not allow for this. It might after some saving, but for now, she settled for a mattress with such prominent squeaking that she could almost sound out all of Bohemian Rhapsody if she bounced around just right. No, Sara would never EVER get to meet this mattress.

The Mattress Man was friendly in a please-buy-my-wares kind of way, but also in a genuinely nice way. The kind of person who could be trusted to fill silences and carry conversation so she didn't have to. In short, the one of the few types of strangers she would step a little closer to.

"Is that your business?" Did he belong to a family of mattress sellers or was this more of a part-time gig? Clearly there was no in-between.

"Yeaaaahhhhh I know that as the owner I should hire someone to do the postering for me but then..." His eyes widened as he came up with a great way to finish that sentence. " I wouldn't be able to do the pestering!"

Grinning at his amazing pun while Sirius yawned so widely he could have swallowed a pika in one go. Then the fox got alert at the thought of pika, even in a metaphor. Teeny-tiny ears pointing ahead.

Oh. Oh no. He'd punned and now she had to react appropriately to his pun.

1. Friendly eye-roll, humoring the attempt
2. Lob back pun of equal or greater value
3. Loud, boisterous laughter

"HahaHAHAha!" Her eyes were too wide, her mouth too open. Option 3 may have failed spectacularly. Her laughter always sounded so normal in her head.

He was the owner. Yes. Cool cool cool.

Well that was not really how people laughed (or maybe he had yet to hear the wide array of American laughter dialects?), but it was leagues better than a dead stare, so Matti would take that any day!

While he was fine with that reaction, it had been a little too loud and sudden for Sirius, who groaned and chattered his teeth. Why were they talking to this plain-smelling person again? Matti mentally rolled his eyes at his grumpy buddy.

"But it's not only mattresses, there's an escape room on the second floor." He added.

The posters had each side of the business on each side of every page, so he put one on each side, side by side. Side is important.

He seemed proud of his posters so she moved up to give them a closer look. Literally anything to move on from the pun and subsequent hyena laugh.

"Mattresscape. Got it. Do you use mattresses when you escape?"

She'd done an escape room once, with her mother and grandmother. It went about as well as one would expect. Luck hadn't kicked in yet (not that it would have been much help anyway). She did get to put her hand in a vat of goo and fish out a key to a locked room. That was nice.

"You escape a hard day on the mattress. The escape room is a whole different thing." Matti explained.

He had thought of this in case the second floor didn't come into existence. But his DIY skills (and Yujin's money) had allowed the business name to be immediately relevant.

So, there was no escape room that involved diving out a second-story window onto a waiting mattress. At least, so this man claimed. But could she trust the creator of the games? Surely he would do anything to keep her from predicting the solution to the puzzles?

She nodded, playing along. But just in case she ever did visit this escape room (unlikely...) she'd be sure to attempt to jump out the window first.

"I see. Cool!" It felt like a thing a person should say. But she was at a loss for follow-up questions. Weather...? Something...weather?

It was very cool-

The whistle of wind caught his attention. Something was flying towards them. A ball. And a very canine instinct took over him as he reached to catch it in midair (Sirius wanted to use JAWS, Matti vetoed this). Jumped a little too high. Reached out a little too fast. But not enough to actually close his fingers around it.

The round projectile bounced on the wall, and then fell directly on his head. Then to the ground.

For a moment he made the exact same face as his fox. Red eyes included.

Rude.

All of this would have been a brilliant—albeit suspicious—thing for Lydia to witness, but she saw absolutely none of it, because the second the ball appeared in her periphery she was hurling herself away from the projectile. At a speed that was decidedly too fast for a human.

"OHMYGOD."

The purple-eyed psychic was a blur, then a cowering form against the wall, having sidestepped the threat and completely missed the stranger's catch attempt and head injury.

She was there and then she was not, but he caught the movement. Quick. Very quick. Like a prey escaping. Like a friend playing. Matti liked the second option better, wtf Sirius humans are not prey.

It was a testament to his fox's growth that more loud noises and an impossible feat got him into poursuit mode rather than flee mode.

So they ran, chasing the plain-smelling human who was way too fast??

Poursuit normally implied tackles and biting neck (if prey) or ears (if friend). Luckily for the poor awkward stranger, Matti kept his jaws firmly clenched. But he did get to a distance that would be considered way too close by regular standards.

Staring at her in confusion while an excited fox was barking in his head. New friend??

She didn't see that he was in her space, she felt it. Ghostly hands pressed down on her shoulders, harkening back to her first meeting with Ava, yet foreign. Something simultaneously known yet unidentifiable.

Something—not entirely human—very very VERY close to her.

Shaking, she raised her eyes and met his. Her power was still thrumming under her skin, ready to bolt. The telltale signs of pins and needles warned her that she had a limited time to use her speed before an ankle sprain. Eyes would still be purple.

"Can. You step back. Please?" Her body quavered where her voice did not.

The purple eyes were the last proof he needed to be convinced this was a psychic, and this more than her request made him jump back, this time more gracefully (and still too fast) than his catch attempt.

Last time he met a psychic in Alder Heights, she had trapped him in a bubble and he had shifted. The memory of it all, the fear, the humiliation of not being in control, it came back, making his heartbeat quicker and Sirius show teeth. This was not friend. This was enemy.

Nonono. No enemy. Just scared girl.

"Sorry." He breathed out, staring at her with his very red eyes still.

Reflexively, he grabbed his left wrist with his right hand. This was often the first bone to break and he meant to keep it in place. Not that it seemed likely right now, there was no shivers in his marrow. Yet.

Why. Were. His. Eyes. Red.

Talk about an intimidating way for your magic to manifest. The guy was clearly psychic. It was daytime, and nothing else existed.

The wrist grab didn't clue her into anything, other than maybe a side effect activating. Maybe he sprained his wrists where she sprained her ankles.

And he stepped back. A small relief, She remained pressed against the wall, like it could protect her.

"I-I can get away. Very fast. Is your magic under control or do you need me to run?"

His power could activate in fits and spurts, or could be a sustained crescendo for all she knew. She really needed to speak to more psychics. She hated being surprised.

Getawayfastyourmagicrun. Her words blurred and felt like a challenge to the fox. Run, human, and he would catch you. Meanwhile Matti latched on your magic and frowned.

"What magic?"

OH WAIT.

"Oh, yeah, that magic, uh, it's okay normally!"

Sirius didn't enjoy being qualified as 'okay' but it would have to do.

'Okay normally' suggested it was not okay now. His initial confusion hinted at new, potentially volatile, powers. She inched a little further away along the wall, curiosity preventing her from ditching the conversation entirely.

"What can you do?"

Better she knew what she might need to dodge. Projectiles? Explosions? A fellow runner like herself?

There was one obvious thing he could say and thankfully he connected the dots.

"Fastitude."

Why did it come out like that. What was the word.

"Speed." He corrected with a heavy desire to slap the back of his own head.

He felt bad for lying but what if she screamed and ran away FAST at the truth? He might not be able to hold Sirius back.

No one could use a word like 'Fastitude' and be ashamed of their powers. It was a kind of welcome break from Sara's hatred of her own—not that she blamed her. Then Lydia immediately felt bad for having that thought and noticed she'd relaxed her stance. Camaraderie in same magic?

"Wow. What are the chances-" What were the chances she'd meet two other speedy psychics since arriving in Ridgefield?

"-is it new to you?" She pivoted quickly, not wanting to out Sara. Even without attaching a name it felt personal, somehow.

Aaaaah was that what 'getting caugh in a web of lie' was like? Because it was bad, and he hated it already, thank you!

Having to think of lies did nothing to help his discomfort and the red would not recede. Not that he felt it.

"Uh, yes?" He muttered. "Define new."

That should give him some time to imagine a whole life as a psychic. Waylin would laugh at him so much for this.

Yes, Lydia. Define 'new'.

She furrowed her brow and thought about her own timeline. Her excitable, (mostly) reliable puppy was about six. The Luck, that magic that continued to elude her, was only a handful of months.

"Less than a year? I know I only started to get a handle on mine after that."

But did that make her an over or underachiever? Hard to feel good or bad about your accomplishments when there was nothing to compare yourself to.

Okay, act natural.

"Oh, wooow, really? That's so crazy, me too!" Lie. "We're both fast and it's been almost the same time!" Lie.

Matti this was not how normal people sounded and Sirius was not impressed.

"Oh, I mean...my speed's been around for longer. Just. I remember it being tricky in the first year." Although now she was inadvertently giving the impression she was an expert which was very much not the case. Though swiftness...Okay fine, she knew swiftness.

"How did yours manifest?" Fear-based response tended to be the answer here but maybe this man had a whimsical story. He certainly seemed happy to be a psychic.

The fact that is was actually different played in his favor for the believability (was that a word) of the lie. But then he needed to add more layers to it. He couldn't give up now, because the longer it went on, the more outraged that poor girl would be, and the more suspicious he looked, and he didn't like to be considered suspicious. He was nice :(

"Okay, so, uh, picture this. The Himalayas." At least he could paint the scene at an important location. "I was backpacking by myself and I ran into a fox and..." I laughed at his funny face and he bit me and now I have the same funny face every month. I wonder where that fox is now. "I ran away, fast. Too fast."

He had heard one day that a lie based on the truth was easier, but it was not.

She listened politely to the story while chewing on a strand of hair that'd lodged itself to the outside of her mouth.

Did Himalayan foxes make a habit of attacking random hikes? She didn't know enough about either the Himalayas or fox behavior to answer that. Didn't matter. What mattered was that something major had just clicked for Lydia.

A short snort of laughter emerged before she could stop herself, forcing a quick hand movement to cover her mouth.

"S-sorry." Sorry for laughing at your story, stranger. "T-that just cleared something up for me, is all."

Oh, oh no, she was onto him. He betrayed himself for sure.

Who ran away from foxes?? What a bad cover story.

"Wha-what cleared?" He asked.

Bracing for you're a liar, mister mattress.

"I bet half of these 'Were' accounts are really just psychics whose powers first manifested when they felt threatened by an animal. That makes sense, right? They created a correlation between the animal and their new powers."

God, that made so much sense. What a relief. A combination of hoaxes and misdiagnosed psychic power births. It also made it easier to understand why people like Sara would believe in them. Most of these so-called 'Weres' probably believed it themselves.

The word 'were' sent a shiver through his whole body, and Matti closed his eyes, hard.

Running water. Think of how calming water is. Water, and otters. Otters are cute.

This, and the words that followed, which were not an accusation, but a theory, had him relax enough to open an eye again. A blue one.

"Oooooh. Uh. I. Don't know." He managed to say.

She didn't believe in shifters. That could be dangerous.

"Well, uh, maybe, but don't pet wild animals anyway." He added.

What if she got bitten because he wanted to be anonymous.

Sound, though unnecessary, advice. His body had rightfully identified the wild fox as a potential threat and gotten them out of there, while magic had made its presence known and lent a hand. It made so much sense. She felt her shoulders relax as a theory took up residence in her mind and made the world around her a little more palatable.

"Oh, I won't. Thanks. You're more adventurous than I am, with your mountain hiking and all." He'd come to the right state if nature walks were his thing.

Well! Was that it for their conversation? Should she be collecting the contact info for other psychics? Uh...

"D-do you want to exchange numbers? Magic contact network, or something."

Matti laughed with more relief than amusement. Yes he was adventurous, ha ha.

And then.

Magic contact network. MAGIC CONTACT NETWORK. Matti wasn't qualified to be in a magic contact network :(

"Uh, sure!"

It would be way too rude to say no. Hopefully he wouldn't get dragged into weird psychic stuff. Somehow he always imagined them dancing in the moonlight with flower crowns. He would not do that, thanks.

Lydia hoped she wasn't accidentally becoming a "hub" person. She didn't want to be a "hub" person (like this elusive Grace apparently was). Didn't know how to collect and connect magical people. She really should reach out to that psychic queen.

"Okay!" Her hands fumbled for her phone because a not-insubstantial part of her had expected a refusal. She opened a new contact and passed it over.

"Lydia." A too-late offering of a name, considering they were exchanging phone numbers.

"Nice to meet you, Lydia. I'm..." A liar. "Matthias."

Full name, what the hell. He really was off today. He didn't like any of this. Well, Lydia was nice, he liked her. Theoretically.

"Take care." He offered with a grin that wasn't as bright as usual.

But at least no one was bitten.

Exchanging contacts with fellow magic-makers and everything'd gone fine. This one was even a business owner! Even with volatile magic, he was perfectly comfortable owning and operating his own--wait.

"Are you hiring?" she blurted to his back, already turning away. He was done with their conversation and she was remembering she needed a job/money.

What nooow. Oh. Business talk. This was more his speed.

"Uh, yeah, actually. Got retail experience? Mattress expertise? A twisted mind?" He asked in a quick succession.

This was his first interview as a boss, bear with him.

The problem with asking someone if they were hiring was that it usually entailed a rapid-fire Q&A of your experience. Not ideal, in Lydia's case.

"Um. No. No. Maybe?"

Interviews never went well for her. Never ever ever ever.

"I was a camp counselor for a few summers. Broke up a camper poker ring or two." So she'd handled money!

"One kid wet the bed." So she'd handled a mattress!

"We had to sing an end-of-summer song around the campfire and pretend we were all going to miss each other?" Twisted...mind...?

Matti didn't expect much, so he was already laughing at 'poker ring', then oh no that poor kid. The summer camp thing had him nearly folded in half with the laughter.

"You're hired." He managed to say when he regained his breath.

If she was quick enough to give him relevent-ish examples, she could be trained. That was his logic. And maybe like this he could slowly get her to believe in weres, for her own safety.

And one day apologize for hiding the truth.

Laughing...was...good? In an interview capacity? She'd never stuck around long enough to find out. She'd never accepted an interview before. Because she'd never applied for a job before. Summer camp had been pure nepotism.

Either she was better at these than she thought or Luck had decided to finally rear its fickle head today. She couldn't really afford to dwell on reasons.

With a (albeit shocked) smile, she absorbed the news that...she was hired. And would presumably be cleaning less urine off these mattresses than she had in the past.

"Oh wow, that's. Thank you!" A quick renewed glance at the flyer confirmed the store was in Lauderhill. Thank god. It would have been too mortifying to back out of a job, miserable commute or not, so she would have just dealt with it. A neighboring city was way better. Doable.

"My schedule's pretty open. I can come by for training any time."

Worst case scenario he would just fire her. Ha ha, who was he kidding, she would have to set the store on fire for him to do that.

"Well, I'm getting these posted today, so maybe tomorrow? Store opens at 10, so be there by 9:30 and I can show you the basics. Hope you're ready to become a Mattrescape Artist!"

His grin was his regular bright one this time. Yes, he just made up that job title. No, it wasn't clear in his head what the tasks would be.

If she had to paint a mattress or arrange a pile of them in an aesthetically pleasing way she may literally die. Wasn't that what ArTiSt meant? Deal with it later.

"I am SO ready!" She hoped the conviction in her voice sounded more convincing than her earlier attempt at a laugh.

9:30. 30 minutes to learn everything there was to know about mattresses and customer services. Lydia had nothing with which to compare, so it all sounded perfectly reasonable. She was mostly concerned about how this would eat into her morning tea and reading time, for which she normally earmarked 2-4 hours. Was this...responsibility? Did she kind of hate it?

"See you tomorrow, Boss! Matthias!"