Music is "Nights With You" by MØ.

Picture is Claudia Doumit as Sarai.

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Osmia Bicornis

Commonly referred to as the red mason bee, Osmia Bicornis is a solitary bee that nests in holes or stems of trees. O. Bicornis is a very calm bee and are safe to be closely observed by children. They are recognized by their gingery fuzz and are found in most of Europe, the Middle East, and North Africa.

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Chapter Eight: Bicornis

The occult shop is exactly what I pictured it would be. It's a tiny store in a line of other stores along the street, with a large window showing various magical items like crystals, tarot, and candles. Large statues of are placed among the merchandise. Violet curtains create an atmosphere of mystery.

"Stay under my collar, okay?" I tell Melizza mentally.

"Okay," she agrees, tucking herself further under my purple collar.

I push through the door, hearing a bell chime as I enter. The interior is themed like most occult shops I've seen: dark, warm colors and an er of mystery. The air smells of sage and patchouli, and candles are lit at every corner. Soft music plays in the background, and the displays show more of what was seen in the window.

From the back room, through a beaded curtain, walks a familiar face. I can see that he recognizes me as well. His name comes to mind, a memory from what Carol told me.

"You're in my math class," Stephen Strange states, gesturing to me with his finger. "You sit behind Wanda."

I nod and give a pleasant smile.

Stephen returns the expression as he walks out from behind the counter. "My name is Stephen Strange. Nice to meet you...?"

I sign my name with my hands, but Stephen doesn't seem to understand. He runs a hand through his dark, wavy hair with an awkward expression. "Sorry, I never learned ASL, despite everyone at school knowing it." He holds up a finger. "Hold on."

Stephen turns for the register and pulls a notebook and pen from behind it. He places the notebook on the counter and hands the pen to me. "There, sorry about that."

I wave off his concern and begin to write. "No problem. My name is Sarai. Nice to meet you, too, Stephen." Stephen nods and smiles, ushering me to continue. "Do you have any books on spells?"

Stephen reads the question and laughs. "We have every book on all kinds of spells. You're going to have to be more specific."

I nod and write another sentence. "Breaking protection spells?"

Stephen stares at that inquiry with a perplexed expression. "I'm not sure why you'd want to break a protection spell, but sure. I think we have something. Hang here for a minute?"

Stephen scurries into the back room, leaving me to wander about the front of the shop. I find my way over to the tarot shelf, instantly going for a deck with pastel watercolors.

"That's Wanda's favorite, too," Stephen says as he returns to the counter with a few books tucked under his arm. "She's a big fan of tarot."

I take the books from his grasp with a thankful smile. Picking up the pen and pad, I write another question. "Do you have anything on bees, by any chance?"

He arches a brow and leans against the counter inquisitively. "Bees? Well, we have some stuff on spirit animals and animal guides, if that's what you mean. The bee is a popular pick."

I nod eagerly, and Stephen turns to the back room to retrieve them. I flip open one of the four spell books, finding my way to the chapter on protection spells. Most of these are about creating protection for yourself, not breaking it. There's a small paragraph in this book about breaking curses, which isn't the same thing as a spell evidently. What my mother conjured to protect me when I was a child, it's been broken somehow, but I have no idea what could have done it.

Stephen returns with another pair of books in his grasp. He places them on the counter with a thud and looks at me with concern. "You know, if you want to sit in the meditation corner and skim the books to see if they're what you're looking for, that'd be fine. No sense in spending over a hundred bucks on it if they're completely wrong."

"You sure?" I write.

Stephen nods fervently, handing me the other set of books. He points to the pile of cushions in the corner by the tarot shelf. "Be my guest! Stay as long as you want to. I'll just be in the back, doing some compartmentalizing. Shout if you need anything." He pauses, cringes, and turns back with an apologetic glance. "You know what I mean."

I laugh soundlessly and plop down on the cushions in the corner. Stephen disappears into the back, and I'm left alone with the pile of half a dozen magical books to sort through.

Melizza pops out from under my collar and crawls onto my shoulder. "I like that one. He is nice."

"Yeah, he is," I agree, pulling out the first of the six, one titled Curses and Blessings 101.

"Do you like him?"

I almost scoff. "I only just met him, Melizza. Human relationships usually take a bit longer. Besides, he's not really my type."

"And what is your type?"

"Sweet and sensitive," I reply. "That's why I dated Steve Rogers. He was the sweetest guy I knew, and we're still friends."

"What about the sweetest girl you know?"

"I know lots of sweet girls: Carol Danvers, girls in Hal's family, Wanda Maximoff."

"Would you ever date one of them?"

I pause. "I never thought about dating a girl."

"Why not?"

"I don't know," I admit. "I just...never thought about it. When I was growing up in Lebanon, being gay wasn't an option. I grew up in an atomic family: a mother, a father, and siblings. That was the traditional family unit. It never occurred to me..."

Melizza's question brings up a lot of repressed feelings and memories. It's not that I've been hiding who I am, but there's a part of me that's always wondered why I've always dated boys exclusively. It's not the physical part of the person that I fall in love with. It's the soul, the personality, the spirit, and that has no gender. Why haven't I been open to dating girls, too?

My first guess is just what I told Melizza; the way I was raised, being a woman who loved other women was frowned upon, even illegal at various times. From a young age, this is what I was taught, both consciously and subconsciously. The things you're taught when you're a kid are the hardest to undo. Sometimes it's hard to even realize that you are the way you are because of them.

But the second guess I have is that I've been afraid. Maybe even a little guilty. Fear and guilt are powerful emotions, and they can keep people from doing a lot of things. The way I was raised taught me that men were for women and women for men. That was the only equation. There were no other options. No other sexualities or genders. If you're taught that as a child, up through your early teens, that's the way you think by default.

Maybe it never occurred to me that I might like girls because I didn't want to. I was afraid to. I felt guilty even considering it. Even now, I feel a pang in my chest at the thought.

But beyond that fear and guilt is a flicker of excitement, of joy, of belonging. The thought of being with girls, just as I've been with boys, feels absolutely right.

The door opens, and the bell chimes, pulling me from my thoughts. Wanda enters, the hood of her jacket pulled over her head. She closes the door behind her and heaves a heavy sigh.

"Sorry, Stephen!" she announces, not yet seeing me curled up in the corner. "The traffic out of the hospital was a madhouse." When she turns, she catches sight of me and freezes.

I give a small wave, tucking Melizza out of sight under my collar. "Hi, Wanda," I sign, putting the books aside as I stand.

Wanda gives a breathy laugh, clearly caught off-guard by my presence. "You scared me, Sarai. Don't do that."

"Sorry?" I sign, not able to wipe the grin off my face.

Wanda shakes her head, tucking a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. A light pink blush spreads across her cheeks. "It's all right. I just didn't expect to see you here."

I shrug, signing, "I didn't know this was the occult shop where you worked."

"So, you didn't come here to find me after all?" Wanda asks, biting her lower lip.

My eyes widen, and I feel my face heat up. "Well, no...No, I didn't."

Wanda giggles at the awkward expression that I'm sure is on my face. "Not like that, silly. I meant for our project. The honeybee, remember? For my uncle's class?"

A wave of realization flows over me, and I instantly avert my eyes in embarrassment. "No, actually, not even for that. I came here for personal reasons. Free morning and no class. Had to find something to pass the time."

Wanda glances past me, to the pile of books in the meditation corner. "Getting into witchcraft, are we, Sarai?"

My eyes meet hers again, and I shrug. "Just curious."

She nods, then brushes past me to place her bag on the counter, over the glass case of crystals. "Well, I need to put in a few hours here at the shop, but afterward...what do you say you and I get take-out and have a study date? Get our outline knocked out in a single night? What do you say?"

I clasp my hands behind my back and shuffle where I stand. Then, realizing I won't be able to respond without my hands, I move them back in front of me, signing, "I'd love that. I'll get take-out. What kind do you like?"

Wanda taps her chin as she thinks. "How about pizza? That's always a good idea."

Nodding, I sign, "When do you get off?"

"Around four," she replies. "I'll see you then?"

I nod, and Wanda presses a peck to my cheek as she passes me.

As she disappears into the back, Stephen reappears with a smug smile on his face. "I think she likes you."

I stick my tongue out at him and place two of the six books on the counter. After paying for them, I leave the store with a shit-eating grin plastered on my face.

And I don't think it's going away any time soon.

END CHAPTER EIGHT.