Threads of Becoming, Part 3

As the group tried to process what they’d just witnessed, Andy noticed that Erin kept sneaking glances at him—measuring, maybe, or recalibrating whatever she thought she knew about him. He didn’t know what to do with her attention, so he just sat, gripping the armrests, and waited for the next round.

Arabella plucked the next envelope from the stack, her fingertips lingering on the seal as she smiled at Sam, who sat perched on the arm of her chair with both feet swinging, chin propped in her hand. The Host’s voice went low and playful, almost conspiratorial: “Sam, it seems you’re next.”

Sam grinned, but Andy caught the tension in her jaw, the way her eyes darted to him and then away. “Bring it on,” she said, her best impression of bravado, but her hands knotted tighter around a loose thread in her black jeans.

Arabella’s smile was approving. “The judges chose an… affectionate route for you.” She held up the card, reading it with the relish of a game-show host. “‘Life Hugger: Your emotional equilibrium is now tied to physical contact with Andy. Without regular hugs or touch from him, you will feel a steadily intensifying loneliness that may become overwhelming if left unchecked. Only he can reset your baseline.’”

The words landed in the pit of Andy’s stomach, heavier than he’d expected. He looked at Sam, who gave a little “hah!” and shrugged, but her ears had gone pink. “Guess you’re stuck with little ol’ me, Andy,” she said, voice softer than before.

He tried to smile, but all he could see was the fear flickering behind her eyes, the same look she’d given him the first time her father forgot her birthday. “I’ll always have time for you, Sam. That’s a promise,” he said, quietly enough that only she would hear.

“Ready?” asked Arabella, raising an eyebrow.

Sam rolled her eyes, but the laughter was ****. “Sure, go ahead. I’m all about the free therapy.”

Arabella reached out, her hand hovering just above Sam’s head. The moment her palm moved, Sam tensed, as if bracing for a lightning strike. Instead, there was a deep, almost inaudible hum, and then Sam sagged, her body folding forward like a flower hit by sudden cold.

• Life Hugger: Sam has struggled often in her adult life, and her bond with the Master has always supported her. Now, she cannot get enough. Sam’s emotional equilibrium becomes tied to physical contact with the Master; without daily hugs or skin-to-skin closeness with Andy, she begins to feel a gnawing loneliness that turns into overwhelming emotional distress. (Best Friend)

She jerked upright, face drained of color. For a second, she just stared, blinking furiously, then grabbed her own biceps, squeezing as if to anchor herself. “Wow,” she said, breathless. “It’s… immediate.”

Arabella nodded, almost fondly. “It will take some getting used to. But a hug from Andy will ease the symptoms.”

Sam tried to play it off, but her lips trembled. “Does it work with, like, handshakes? Or is this a full-contact sport?”

Andy was on his feet before he realized it, the motion pure reflex. “Sam, I’m here,” he said, and crossed the space between them.

She didn’t say a word. She just reached for him, arms wrapping around his waist in a grip so tight it hurt. He held her, feeling the shudders go out of her body in slow, aching waves. At first, he thought she might be crying, but when she pulled back, her face was dry. Just scared, and a little bit relieved.

Hugged the Master! +1 VP
First! x2

“Thanks,” she whispered. “I was… it felt like I was standing on the roof of a really tall building. Alone.” She grinned shakily. “You’re still a dork, though.”

He snorted, his own nerves jangling, but he kept his hands on her shoulders, steadying her until the last of the tremors faded. “Listen to who’s talking.” When she sat down again, she looked lighter, but also more **** than he’d ever seen her. “Is it always this intense?” she asked Arabella, half-laughing, half-terrified.

“For the first few days,” Arabella said. “Then it becomes part of your baseline. You may find yourself craving touch more often than before, but it will no longer be so… existential. Still, unless you hug Andy at least once per day…”

Liesa raised a hand, smirking. “Is this transferable? If Andy gets saai… ah, boring, can we… what is the word, lenen… ah, borrow her for comfort?”

Sam flashed her middle finger, but it was all bravado again, the nerves tucked away behind a crooked smile. “Only if you pay me in cold brew. Or pie.”

Dawn, watching from the edge of her seat, smiled at Sam with a look that was pure empathy. “If you ever want a hug, I’m here, too,” she said.

Sam grinned, but glanced at Andy first. “I appreciate the backup. But I think I’m good for now.”

Norah, still fuming over her own predicament, muttered, “Some of us got the short end of the stick.” Her arms were wrapped under her bust, trying to support her new breasts. But there was less venom in it than before.

Erin just watched, arms still folded, but her glare had softened, replaced by a thoughtful, almost wistful, scrutiny.

Arabella let the moment breathe, then said, “It would not work anyway. The hugs have to come from Andy. But thank you, Sam. You are adapting admirably.” She paused. “Since you will ask this question later, I may as well clarify now. Once you have received your starting transformation, you are officially eligible to receive Victory Points. Most of you,” she continued, glancing at Sam, Erin and Liesa, “have engaged with Andy in the past, in ways that would earn VPs on this contest. Even if only on the edges. While some other editions would make you ineligible to receive VPs for these events, too many of you would be penalized if I implemented this rule here, so I shall not.” She placed the next envelope on the table, the motion gentle. “We’re nearly halfway.”

Sam shot Andy a look of gratitude, her eyes shining with the promise of loyalty. He felt the weight of her need settle inside him, a new kind of responsibility, but he welcomed it. For the first time that evening, he thought maybe, just maybe, he could help someone, even if it was just by being there. And if he could repay all the times Sam had been there for him before, he would