“Waawaate? He’s alright,” Bugz managed to spit out. She looked at the young women around her and made mental notes about how she might improve her skin. “Probably getting ready for his special. I think it’s later tonight.”

“We’re definitely going to check that out. Your brother is such a good dancer.” Stormy continued scrutinizing Bugz’s appearance through her phone.

“Good looking, too,” Chalice piped up.

“Gross.” Bugz tried to stop the girls from going on any further.

One of the girls imitated the wolf-whistles heard in movies.

“Cut it out,” Stormy cut in a little too loudly. “You know you’re not supposed to whistle at night.”

“Don’t tell me you believe those stories.” Chalice rolled her eyes for effect before rolling them back to her phone. She swiped her thumb, sending dozens of pictures, videos, and text messages flying by on her transparent screen.

“Well, they say if you whistle at the northern lights, they’ll come and take you away,” Bugz responded.

“Well, your brother’s name means ‘northern lights’…so maybe he’ll come take me away.” Chalice grinned and pretended to whistle again.

“Shush!” Stormy started fanning herself. “Don’t mess around with that. Even if you don’t believe, then at least don’t whistle around the pow-wow at night. My kookom will come and yell at us!”

“Your grandma’s scary,” Bugz said.

“Junior Women’s Fancy Shawl, you’re up next.” The pow-wow emcee’s voice bellowed into the darkness of the outer ring of the pow-wow circle, where the young women stood.

“Well, I guess we got to go.” Stormy blew another cloud of vape smoke into the air above where they stood. She flipped the view on her phone, turning it into a mirror. She checked her eyebrows and contour, hit the AR button in the corner, and watched her face become filtered through the Floraverse. “Perfection!”

“Tell Waawaate we said hi!” Chalice said through a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Omigod, Chalice! Don’t be so basic!” Stormy shook her head at her friend. “Obviously she’s going to mention this conversation to him.”

The fancy shawl dancers laughed to one another as they made their way to the pow-wow arbor.

CHAPTER 8

“You’ve got some new friends?” Waawaate walked toward Bugz in his grass dance regalia, long fringes flowing like prairie grass from his shoulders, arms, and legs. Beads hanging from a headband ringed his eyes. A long porcupine-hair roach sat atop his braided hair. Bugz craned her neck to look up at her brother as he stood beside her. He’d inherited their dad’s height and their mother’s looks. Bugz wondered for a moment what she’d inherited, but quickly reminded herself she’d made out alright.