In The Afterlight
Page 119
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
“Oh, there you are,” Liam said, clearly missing the way Chubs’s nostrils flared and his eyes went wide behind his glasses. “We were wondering where you’d gotten off to.”
“I was just—building some shelves, for the—uh, the supplies and books in the medical, uh, room,” Chubs said, glancing between us, the door, and back over his shoulder, literally looking for an escape route.
“Did you build them all?” I asked, noticing for the first time that his shirt was buttoned incorrectly. I started toward the door, trying not to laugh as a look like death came over Chubs’s face. “We’re happy to help you—”
Liam finally caught on, an eyebrow slowly arching up, up, up...
“Nope, no—I mean, I lost a screw and had to stop—where were you going? I’ll go with you—”
“Are you okay?” Liam asked. “You’re acting all twitchy.”
“Fine, totally.” Chubs pushed the glasses Vida had made for him up the bridge of his nose, then looked down at his shirt. Without warning, he snatched my arm and started pulling me down the hall. “How are you? Are you guys okay now? Spare no details. We’ll—”
The door creaked open behind us again. Chubs shrank back against the wall as Vida came strolling out, her shoulders set back, head of mussed purple hair held high—the curl of her swollen lips gave her a look of smug satisfaction. Liam stepped back, letting her by.
Vida didn’t say a thing; she simply dropped Chubs’s jacket over his head as she passed, letting it hang there. He waited until the sound of her boots against the tile had faded before sinking down onto the ground. Chubs kept the jacket pressed to his face, looking for all the world like he was trying to suffocate himself.
“Oh, God,” he groaned. “She’s going to kill me. Actually kill me.”
“Wait...” Liam began, not bothering to hide the grin on his face. I put a hand on his shoulder, afraid he’d start jumping up and down in total and complete glee. “Are you...?”
Chubs finally lowered the jacket. And, after a deep breath, nodded.
Well, I thought, surprised at my lack of surprise. Well, well, well...
“Wow...I mean, wow. I think my brain is going to start leaking out of my ears,” Liam said, pressing the heels of his palms against his forehead. “I’m so proud of you, Chubsie, but I’m so confused, but I’m proud, but I think I need to lie down.”
“How long has this been going on?” I asked. “You haven’t...you’re not...?”
One look of mortification told me everything I needed to know. They had. They were. Liam choked a bit at that.
“What?” Chubs demanded. “It’s a...it’s a perfectly normal human response to—to stressors. And it’s winter, you know, and when you’re sleeping in a car or tent it can be freezing...actually, you know what? It’s none of your business.”
“It is if you’re being stupid about it,” Liam said.
“Excuse me, but I’ve known about contraception since I was—”
“Not what I meant,” Liam said quickly, holding up his hands. “Not at all what I meant, but, uh, good to know.”
I crouched down in front of Chubs, putting a hand on his arm. “I think what he was trying to say was, if this doesn’t pan out, or one of you gets hurt, it’d be hard to take.”
“Oh, you mean like if she erased my memory, forcing me to keep a little fact sheet of who I am in case she does it again?” The minute it left his mouth, I could tell he wanted it back inside his head, where the thought belonged. That alone eased the sting.
“Hey...” Liam warned.
“No, it’s fair,” I said. “I know you can handle it, but Vi’s been...well, the people in her life really put her through the wringer. You’ll be careful with her heart, right?”
“There are no hearts involved in this arrangement,” he reassured me, which wasn’t actually reassuring, let alone believable in any way. “It’s...coping.”
“Okay,” I said.
“And she doesn’t need anyone to protect her or fight her battles for her, got it?” he added, looking between us. The fierceness deflated somewhat. “God, she’s going to kill me for blowing this. We haven’t even been back for a week...You won’t tell anyone, right?”
“Vida’s the kind of person who doesn’t give a rat’s ass about what others think,” Liam pointed out. “A quality I greatly admire in her.”
“Are you saying she asked you to keep this quiet because she’s embarrassed?” I said. “Embarrassed of being with you?”
“She didn’t say it outright, but it’s obvious, isn’t it?”
“Maybe she just wants to keep it between the two of you for now because it’s so new,” I added. “Or because it really is no one else’s business, even ours.”
“You’re a great catch, buddy,” Liam finished. “It’s not you. And she can’t be that mad, anyway, seeing as it’s only the two of us who know, and we’d only ever tell each other. And maybe a G-rated version to Zu. But, man, give yourself some credit. Obviously you’ve got something she likes if she’s jumping your bones.”
“Liam Michael Stewart, wordsmith and poet,” Chubs said, shaking his head as he pushed himself up from the ground. I watched him as he fell silent, wringing his hands, trying our line of logic out. A shadow passed over his expression, one that had me wondering what he was thinking—or remembering. In the end, he shook his head. “I’m not...I mean, I don’t have delusions of grandeur about this stuff. I know who I am and who she is, and I know it’s like putting an apple next to an onion. Whatever. We have an understanding.”
“I was just—building some shelves, for the—uh, the supplies and books in the medical, uh, room,” Chubs said, glancing between us, the door, and back over his shoulder, literally looking for an escape route.
“Did you build them all?” I asked, noticing for the first time that his shirt was buttoned incorrectly. I started toward the door, trying not to laugh as a look like death came over Chubs’s face. “We’re happy to help you—”
Liam finally caught on, an eyebrow slowly arching up, up, up...
“Nope, no—I mean, I lost a screw and had to stop—where were you going? I’ll go with you—”
“Are you okay?” Liam asked. “You’re acting all twitchy.”
“Fine, totally.” Chubs pushed the glasses Vida had made for him up the bridge of his nose, then looked down at his shirt. Without warning, he snatched my arm and started pulling me down the hall. “How are you? Are you guys okay now? Spare no details. We’ll—”
The door creaked open behind us again. Chubs shrank back against the wall as Vida came strolling out, her shoulders set back, head of mussed purple hair held high—the curl of her swollen lips gave her a look of smug satisfaction. Liam stepped back, letting her by.
Vida didn’t say a thing; she simply dropped Chubs’s jacket over his head as she passed, letting it hang there. He waited until the sound of her boots against the tile had faded before sinking down onto the ground. Chubs kept the jacket pressed to his face, looking for all the world like he was trying to suffocate himself.
“Oh, God,” he groaned. “She’s going to kill me. Actually kill me.”
“Wait...” Liam began, not bothering to hide the grin on his face. I put a hand on his shoulder, afraid he’d start jumping up and down in total and complete glee. “Are you...?”
Chubs finally lowered the jacket. And, after a deep breath, nodded.
Well, I thought, surprised at my lack of surprise. Well, well, well...
“Wow...I mean, wow. I think my brain is going to start leaking out of my ears,” Liam said, pressing the heels of his palms against his forehead. “I’m so proud of you, Chubsie, but I’m so confused, but I’m proud, but I think I need to lie down.”
“How long has this been going on?” I asked. “You haven’t...you’re not...?”
One look of mortification told me everything I needed to know. They had. They were. Liam choked a bit at that.
“What?” Chubs demanded. “It’s a...it’s a perfectly normal human response to—to stressors. And it’s winter, you know, and when you’re sleeping in a car or tent it can be freezing...actually, you know what? It’s none of your business.”
“It is if you’re being stupid about it,” Liam said.
“Excuse me, but I’ve known about contraception since I was—”
“Not what I meant,” Liam said quickly, holding up his hands. “Not at all what I meant, but, uh, good to know.”
I crouched down in front of Chubs, putting a hand on his arm. “I think what he was trying to say was, if this doesn’t pan out, or one of you gets hurt, it’d be hard to take.”
“Oh, you mean like if she erased my memory, forcing me to keep a little fact sheet of who I am in case she does it again?” The minute it left his mouth, I could tell he wanted it back inside his head, where the thought belonged. That alone eased the sting.
“Hey...” Liam warned.
“No, it’s fair,” I said. “I know you can handle it, but Vi’s been...well, the people in her life really put her through the wringer. You’ll be careful with her heart, right?”
“There are no hearts involved in this arrangement,” he reassured me, which wasn’t actually reassuring, let alone believable in any way. “It’s...coping.”
“Okay,” I said.
“And she doesn’t need anyone to protect her or fight her battles for her, got it?” he added, looking between us. The fierceness deflated somewhat. “God, she’s going to kill me for blowing this. We haven’t even been back for a week...You won’t tell anyone, right?”
“Vida’s the kind of person who doesn’t give a rat’s ass about what others think,” Liam pointed out. “A quality I greatly admire in her.”
“Are you saying she asked you to keep this quiet because she’s embarrassed?” I said. “Embarrassed of being with you?”
“She didn’t say it outright, but it’s obvious, isn’t it?”
“Maybe she just wants to keep it between the two of you for now because it’s so new,” I added. “Or because it really is no one else’s business, even ours.”
“You’re a great catch, buddy,” Liam finished. “It’s not you. And she can’t be that mad, anyway, seeing as it’s only the two of us who know, and we’d only ever tell each other. And maybe a G-rated version to Zu. But, man, give yourself some credit. Obviously you’ve got something she likes if she’s jumping your bones.”
“Liam Michael Stewart, wordsmith and poet,” Chubs said, shaking his head as he pushed himself up from the ground. I watched him as he fell silent, wringing his hands, trying our line of logic out. A shadow passed over his expression, one that had me wondering what he was thinking—or remembering. In the end, he shook his head. “I’m not...I mean, I don’t have delusions of grandeur about this stuff. I know who I am and who she is, and I know it’s like putting an apple next to an onion. Whatever. We have an understanding.”