Hive Minds Give Good Hugs

"Goodness gracious, I can actually breathe!" Tara announces emphatically, inhaling deeply to prove it. Loaded down with a dozen shopping bags, she nonetheless seems more lively than ever before.

"Of course, honey!" Sasha coos, sliding her long, painted nails down the sleeve of Tara's shirt. "Have you never worn something that actually fits? You poor, tortured soul!"

"I'm sorry, okay!?" I blurt out. "I knew it was bad but I couldn't buy anything. I don't have any money!"

It has been a stressful shopping trip, to say the least. Not only am I extremely uncomfortable hanging out with Sasha and Alex at all, but they're fawning over my friend and making me feel like garbage for trapping her in my shitty clothes. And then there's all the money Sasha keeps throwing around! I tried to avoid letting her spend anything on me but I think she's snuck things in anyway. I've never seen anyone spend this much money in my life!

"Oh, Evelyn…" Tara starts, looking back sympathetically. It's Sasha that gets to me first, though.

"Honey, please!" Sasha implores, running over, grabbing each of my arms and immediately sending my entire body into a panic. "You don't have to apologize for giving someone a place to live and not having it be a luxury hotel! I'm happy to do this!"

"I know! I know. Sorry," I respond, trying not to completely lose it. Holy shit, she's so touchy! Why is she touching me!? Sasha is not at all on the list of people I'm comfortable letting touch me.

"Yo, Sasha," Alex says, stepping in and flicking the crazy rich girl on the forehead. "I'm hungry. Let's head to the food court."

"Alex!" Sasha stage-whispers indignantly. "Is now really the best time?"

"I promise you, it is," Alex insists, pulling Sasha off me with a yank. "You like Chinese food, Eve? The Chinese place here is way better than it has any right to be."

"Um, yeah," I stammer. "That sounds great?"

Alex gives me a thumbs up and shoots Sasha a triumphant smirk. Sasha, bewildered but thankfully not touching me anymore, throws her arms in the air and stomps towards the food court. Tara stares back at the exchange, a twitching smile on her face mere moments from laughter. She follows after Sasha as the exasperated young woman passes by, leaving Alex and I in the back.

"Sorry, she's handsy," Alex whispers at me. "The Chinese food really is good, though. I hear you shouldn't get the orange chicken because they just tried to copy Panda and it did not fucking work for them. Everything else, though. Damn! They sub tofu for anything and it's fucking delicious, you have no idea."

I definitely don't have any idea, because I've never liked tofu, but I'm glad Alex does I suppose.

"Yeah," I answer, nodding. I don't really have a lot of words left right now.

Alex gives me a critical glance, then nods in return. The two of us make the rest of the walk to the food court in silence, letting Tara and Sasha do all the chatting ahead of us. I start to relax a little, my assessment of the situation changing. Alex may in fact be Pretty Cool™.

I take the advice I'm given and try out the Chinese place, which does indeed turn out to be far better than it has any right to be. What is a place like this doing tucked away in a mall food court? Sure, it may make me want to chug water until I explode, but MSG is dang delicious. Tara and Sasha continue chattering away as I munch in silence. Mmm... General Tso's.

"So, where are you from, exactly?" Sasha comments offhandedly. "You speak English quite fluently, so it can't be that odd of a place."

"Ah, well... it's somewhat of a personal matter, I'm afraid," Tara deflects. "Suffice to say I did not have adequate time to pack my things before I was forced to move."

"Is it okay if I guess?" Alex asks. "Because now I really want to guess."

Tara chuckles awkwardly.

"I suppose, but I reserve the right to remain silent."

"You ran away from home because you're gay," Alex says, causing me to choke on a sprig of broccoli.

"Er, pardon?" Tara asks, taken aback.

"It's just my first guess," Alex shrugs. "I have a friend from Pennsylvania and one from the South who had to run away from home cuz of abuse over stuff like that. I guess you could also be from Europe, but if you're already from Europe there are way better places to flee to in Europe than all the way over the Atlantic, so… y'know."

Tara looks genuinely flabbergasted.

"Er… no," she says slowly. "I'm afraid I don't know at all. You're talking about homosexuality? I was not aware that's considered okay anywhere."

Alex tenses up a bit.

"Is there a reason it shouldn't be…?"

Tara hesitates, her eyes flicking away nervously. Shoot, this is kind of my fault, isn't it? I've avoided talking to Tara about anything related to relationships or sex on account of me being an awkward loser, but of course that's coming back to bite me. Shit, what if her culture is actually super homophobic? She catches my gaze, taking a nervous sip of water.

"I, ah, can't think of a very compelling one…?" Tara admits slowly, causing Alex to relax a little. "Please excuse me, it was just an ignorant assumption. My knowledge of cultural issues is about on the level of… er, well, of an old hermit living in the woods for fifty years, I suppose."

Oof. Tara and I both wince at that. It's not inaccurate, but it's a bit too soon. Sasha and Alex don't pick up on the context, of course. In fact, they smile.

"Oh, you're good, girl!" Alex happily answers. "Nothing wrong with that. The way we see it, though, oppressing people for doing shit that isn't hurting anyone is just plain fucking evil. Lots of cultures and religions dress up being a bastard to certain groups as a noble thing because old books told them the afterlife is better that way, but it's all a load of horseshit."

"I… see," Tara murmurs, her eyes flicking back and forth almost like she's reading something. Actually, one of her bodies is still at the library, isn't it? I wouldn't put it past her to be rapidly looking up these issues as we speak. "Please accept my apologies. I have quite honestly never thought about any of this before."

"Hey, it's cool!" Alex reassures her. "You're a lot more chill about it than most fifty-year-old hermits are, so give yourself some credit."

"Thank you," Tara responds formally. "I am… out of my depth lately, and trying very hard to keep an open mind. I think I am learning just as much about my culture as I am about yours, to be frank."

Alex laughs, and that seems to be the end of it. Tara deflects any further questions about her homeland, pushing Sasha back to clothes, a topic she's all too eager to discuss. I, meanwhile, managed to find myself in a conversation about videogames! Although it turns out Alex doesn't seem to like strategy games very much, so minus two coolness points there. What kind of wacky opposite favorite game selection is "The Wind Waker'' and "Resident Evil 4?"

"Well, what's your favorite game?" Alex challenges.

Oh boy. I hate this question.

"I mean… I like StarCraft?" I hedge.

That's a pretty popular game, and I definitely like it a lot, so that should pretty much settle it. Alex is too sharp, though.

"So lukewarm! Where's the passion? Come on, what's your actual favorite game? The game you keep going back to and never get tired of? The game you have nostalgia goggles on so tight for that nothing compares or ever will?"

"Um, I don't know if I’d describe it like that…"

"Tell me!"

I sigh.

"…Drone Tactics," I mumble.

"What's that?"

"Drone Tactics!" I repeat more loudly.

"No, I mean, what's that?" Alex asks. "I've never heard of it."

"Oh, um, it's just a turn-based strategy game for DS," I answer truthfully.

Alex pulls out a phone and immediately starts looking it up. Curse that ambiguously-gendered sleuth!

"…You're studying to be an entomologist, right?" Alex says.

"Yes," I squeak, my face reddening.

"I can't help but notice this is a game about giant robots that are all shaped like bugs," Alex points out.

"…Yes," I squeak more quietly, my blush reaching critical mass.

"That's cool," Alex says enthusiastically. "How does it work? Tell me about it."

Instinctively prepared for an onslaught of jokes and jabs, I barely even hear the response until I go back and think about it a second time. Did Alex just ask me to talk about Drone Tactics? Nobody asked me to talk about Drone Tactics! Tara doesn't even care about Drone Tactics!

I take a deep breath.

"Well basically, these kids who really like bugs get teleported to another planet…"

My ramble starts and I instinctively know that it won't stop. Someone has just prodded one of my hyperfocuses and so I am going to talk and talk and talk and be horribly embarrassed about it later. Yet I'm dimly aware that Alex actually seems to possess genuine interest about the topic, which is… I don't even know what that is!

Half an hour later, the conversation is still going strong. The food has long since finished, and while Tara grilled Sasha for fashion questions she was all too happy to answer, I continued babbling away about my weird bug game for children. It's actually really cool! I don't feel like I'm being overwhelmed by strangers. I'm just having a fun conversation with a single person, and the fact that two other people are also here isn't bothering me as much in that light.

"...So honestly the inclusion of a butterfly unit doesn't make sense from a design standpoint," I complain, "because while I get that they're popular insects for their superficial qualities the developers probably could've just ditched the concept of beam weapons and made better insect-themed long-range attacks like silk bindings or formic acid sprays or something."

"Yeah, it sounds like they're kind of double-dipping on the mech crowd and the bug crowd," Alex agrees.

"They absolutely are!" I grumble. "It sucks because there's so much conflict there. I wish it was full-on insect stuff. Like maybe have the main characters shrink down and command actual intelligent insects instead of huge bug robots? Or maybe have them turn into insects? Or maybe just ditch the whole isekai part of the plot and let you play as bug people? I get that they're trying to keep it kid friendly and not too violent, though, so robots are a good way to manage that."

"Oh yeah, because blowing up robots is way less violent," Alex scoffs. "You said these robots are intelligent, right? So aren't you fighting other intelligent robots? That's still killing people."

"Eh, you're just kind of fighting ambiguously evil robots," I hedge. "The game is not exactly carried by its plot."

"Darn ambiguously evil robots," Alex curses. "It's a good thing our society cultivates children and teenagers, their only known natural predators."

Tara does a startled double-take, her attention suddenly pulled into our conversation.

"Did I miss something?" she asks.

Alex gives me an accusatory look.

"Have you not shown her anime?"

"I don't think she's ready for anime," I admit solemnly.

"No one is ever truly ready," Sasha intones. "To this day, I still haven't recovered."

"What's anime?" Tara asks. "Why are you all grinning like that?"

Before I know it we're out of the food court, in the parking lot and laughing loudly on the sidewalk back to campus, the four of us scrunched around Alex's phone laughing at clips from Yakitate!! Japan. We're about halfway back to campus when it starts getting very dark out, which automatically sets off my anxious danger senses. Clearly, my brain insists, I'm about to get mugged because the sun has set and I have boobs. I'd better make sure to hold my keys in my hand as I walk so that I can use them as a makeshift knife in case of attack! Sure, my logic brain knows that it's not particularly late, and even for a group of girls (plus one Alex) there is little to fear in my quiet, peaceful town. On my left is a busy street, on my right is a fancy residential district. Everyone but Tara has their own cell phone, and if things really get down to it Tara has a history of coming out on top against violent people with guns. For all my history of problems, my stresses, my panic attacks, and my tears, right now I almost believe I'm safe. And if nothing else, I know I'm happy. I can, sometimes, get nice things and keep them.

I've made a new friend today, I think. I'm still not totally sure about Sasha, but Alex is a shoe-in for the Pretty Cool™ category after all. Plus, my amazing alien friend now has clothes that fit her, more friends that care about her, and more knowledge every day of what it means to be human. These are good people. As a helpless loser who's never dated anyone before I'm not the right person to teach Tara about a lot of this stuff. And that's okay.

"I truly cannot thank you all enough," Tara says, turning around to address the three of us at once. "Today has been quite enjoyable. I am touched by your kindness and patience."

"You talk like such an old lady!" Alex laughs, to which Tara and I carefully don't react. "We've had fun too, right Sasha?"

"Oh, absolutely!" Sasha agrees. "And don't listen to Alex, you speak like a person with dignity. Our conversations have been quite enjoyable!"

"Thank you both," Tara nods. "And Sasha, I will seriously consider your offer to pay me for the photographs. It sounds entertaining, and I could certainly use the—"

Tara suddenly stops speaking, her expression switching to shock. She drops her bags.

"Tara?" I ask, panic rising.

"Evelyn, is it normal to… I… no, this can't…" Tara stammers, her whole body tense as she glances around in shock.

"Tara!? Is everything okay?"

She looks me in the eyes. My phone buzzes. She bolts.

To my surprise, I react quickly, sprinting after her. I'm not out of shape, but Tara is like lightning, blitzing down the street at speeds that don't seem humanly possible. I suppose they probably aren't.

Tara is running directly into the cluster of residential housing we were just passing by. She takes a sharp turn through a fancy, well-kept lawn and leaps onto the porch, slamming her shoulder into the front door. A thud resounds through the night, followed by more as she kicks the door twice, three times, until finally the wood shatters and she breaks into the home.

"Tara!" I scream, "Tara, what are you—"

I sprint up the houses long after her, mind screaming in full panic mode. What is she doing? Why did she suddenly smash someone's door in? Should I keep following? Should I run away? No. She's my friend, and she's a superpowered alien. I'm somewhat responsible for this. I have to know.

Breath ragged, I barrel into the house after her. I hear a scream, an enraged shout, a clatter. Tara's voice swears furiously in her home language. I follow the noise, dashing down the hallway, feet springing on the fancy carpet as I burst into the kitchen.

Tara has her knee on the sternum of the screaming man, bone jutting from his very broken arm. Her hand covers his face, fingers poised as if to pluck out his eyes as she screams right back in a language no one else understands. I'm beyond horrified. What is she…

Quiet sobbing erupts from my right. I turn my head, and sitting on the floor I spot a bloodied woman huddling in a corner, bruises already forming around her neck. I try to swallow, but my mouth is dry.

Tara had been spying on these people, and she witnessed something horrible.