I shuffle to the intercom and press the button.
“Who is it?” I ask.
“Delivery,” a falsetto voice answers, and I scrunch my brow.
“What kind of delivery?”
“You ordered a…companion.” The last word is said in a breathy, suggestive kind of way that has my face heating, even though there’s no one here to have heard it besides me.
“I, uh, I think you have the wrong apartment,” I stammer out.
“Isn’t this Elijah Cummings?” They ask, putting emphasis on my last name in a way that makes it sound untoward. Not like I didn’t get enough jokes about it in middle and high school, I don’t need a prostitute turning it into some sort of suggestive dirty talk.
“Yes, but I didn’t…I’m not…Um…” I don’t want to be rude, clearly this person’s wires got crossed. Maybe there’s another Elijah Cummings in the building, although even without sitting down to calculate the odds of that, I’d bet they’re astronomical.
“Einstein, I’m fucking with you,” Pax says, dropping the falsetto.
“Oh,” I say, my breath whooshing out with relief. I only have a few seconds of relief before I realize that Pax is at my apartment and I’m half naked. “Um, give me a second,” I tell him through the intercom, shaking off my hangover and bolting over to my dresser to grab some pants to pull on. I rake my fingers through my hair in an attempt to tame some of the curls and then hit the button to unlock the outside door.
A few moments later, there’s a knock at my door, and Pax actually is here, in my apartment, holding a takeout bag and smiling like he isn’t so hung over he wants to die.
Pax
Elijah looks like death warmed over. His hair looks like he stuck his finger in a light socket, and there’s a little bit of crusty drool on the corner of his mouth. He glares at me as I hold out my offering with a smirk.
“How do you look so chipper right now?” he asks suspiciously. “If you have a secret hangover cure, you have to tell me.”
“Lucky you, that’s exactly why I’m here,” I say, shooting him a playful wink as I rattle the bag in my outstretched fist. He eyes it with curiosity but doesn’t make a move to take it, so I sigh and slip past him into his place.
It reminds me of the apartment my friend, Hudson, and I shared right after I moved to California—tiny, cramped, peeling paint.
“It was in my budget,” Elijah says defensively, his shoulders slumped as he watches me take in his place.
“We all lived in shitty places while we were in college; there’s no shame in it.” I reach into my pocket and pull out a couple of aspirin I stashed there earlier. “Here, take these.” Elijah looks at the pills in my hand like I’m offering him heroin, and I chuckle. “It’s aspirin, take them.”
After a few more seconds of hesitation, he reaches for the pills and pops them into his mouth.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’m not sure why you’re so suspicious of me. I came bearing breakfast.” I hold the bag up again, and this time he looks a little more interested. “No better hangover cure than a couple of greasy bacon and egg sandwiches.”
“I can’t decide if that sounds delicious or if it makes me want to puke,” he admits, leading me over to the small table near the kitchen. It’s covered in textbooks and scattered notebook paper, which he quickly sweeps into a stack, setting them all onto the floor so we have space.
“You’ll feel better once you eat it, trust me.”
We sit down and dig into our breakfast. I can feel Elijah’s gaze flicker to me every few moments, but he doesn’t say anything while he picks at his sandwich, carefully chewing each bite.
“Why’d you bring this stuff over?” he asks once he finishes his food, sitting back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the table as he draws random shapes on the surface with his index finger. No, not random shapes, numbers…an equation? It’s hard to tell but I’d rather focus on that than on the question he asked. I’d like to say it was because I knew it’s what Theo would want me to do, to look out for his best friend. But Theo wasn’t on my mind this morning when I shoved a couple of aspirin into my pocket and beelined for the nearest fast food drive thru. I’m not entirely sure what was on my mind other than the goofy, drunk smile that had graced Elijah’s lips last night while we argued about Star Wars and physics.
“Just being a good Samaritan,” I answer with a shrug. “Did the semester already start?” I ask, jerking my chin toward his textbooks in a blatant attempt to change the subject.
“It starts Monday.”
“In that case, on Friday we’ll have to celebrate your first week as a PhD student,” I declare, and he turns a little green.
“No alcohol,” he says with a grimace.
“All right, no alcohol,” I agree, and then an idea strikes me. “You know what, I have the perfect idea for how we can celebrate.”
“Oh?”
“There’s a vintage arcade downtown. Technically, it’s a bar too, but we don’t have to drink. We can stick to soda while I kick your ass at Pac-Man.”
Elijah snorts and rolls his eyes. “You are dreaming if you think you can beat me at Pac-Man.”
I smirk at him. “I guess we’ll find out Friday.”
There’s a spark of challenge in his eyes as he finally looks up at me, a small smile on his mouth as well. “I guess we will.”
Chapter 4
Elijah
There are plenty of things I absolutely suck at—social interaction being the main one, obviously. But school? School is something I excel at. A deep sense of calm fills me as I set foot on campus for my first day of grad school. It’s nothing like my first day of undergrad, dodging frat boys and art students drawing chalk murals on the sidewalks. If it hadn’t been for Theo, I probably would’ve spent every second of the four years in the library or hiding in my dorm. I still did as much as possible, but he did drag me out to bars or campus events weekly.
A sad ache starts in my chest. I haven’t had a first day of school without Theo at my side since elementary school. He took me under his wing the first day of fourth grade, claiming me as his badminton partner in gym after everyone else quickly paired off, leaving me feeling every bit of an outcast as I always seemed to be. I didn’t know the first thing about having a friend, but Theo didn’t seem to mind. We were inseparable after that for thirteen years. Now he’s on the complete opposite side of the country.
I have the urge to call him and tell him how silly and nostalgic I feel starting a new school year without him here, but if I don’t hurry, I’m going to be late for my first class.
I push the wistfulness aside and hurry to class. The classroom is extremely nice, clearly well-funded, with comfortable chairs and spacious desks, a state-of-the-art whiteboard at the front of the room. I’ve always been torn between grabbing a seat at the front of the room in order to get the best view without distractions and staying near the back where no one will notice me. I linger near the back for a moment, nerves battering my stomach as I weigh my options.
“I like your blazer,” someone says and my face heats. Was it sarcastic? It’s hard to tell. My stomach twists in knots, and I wrap my fingers tightly around the strap of my messenger bag filled with all my textbooks and notebooks. “There’s an open seat here if you want it,” he offers, and I finally look over in his direction.
He’s not what I was expecting. He reminds me a bit of Theo with a petite build, blond hair styled into a small mohawk, and a friendly smile on his face. He’s wearing a t-shirt with Bill Nye on it that says Science Rules. He looks like he’s about sixteen, and I wonder for a minute if he’s even in the right place.
He gestures to the empty seat beside him, and I hitch my bag higher on my shoulder and weave through a few chairs to get there.
“Hi, I’m Alex,” he offers, holding his hand out. I wipe my sweaty palm against my jeans before reaching out to shake his hand.
“Elijah,” I say, sliding into the open seat.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he says wisely, giving me a serious look. “And yes, I’m naturally this adorable.”
A surprised laugh bubbles past my lips. Yup, he’s basically Theo in a different body.
“Lucky you,” I joke.
“Seriously though, I am only eighteen, I finished high school when I was fifteen and then got my undergrad done in three years, so here we are.”
“Oh wow.” So, he’s a genius and apparently isn’t lacking in social skills or self-confidence. I’ve heard of such unicorns but haven’t seen one in the wild before now.
“Are you in the aerospace engineering PhD program?” he asks.
“Yeah, rockets,” I answer, mentally smacking myself in the head. Obviously rockets, dumbass.
“Me too. I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other over the next few years.”
“Yeah,” I agree, nodding my head and forcing a smile. He smiles back for a few seconds, and I wonder if there’s more I should say. Should I suggest we hang out sometime? Or is he just making polite conversation?
I’m saved from having to figure it out by the professor starting class, everyone else falling silent in order to take copious notes.
When class ends, Alex suggests we walk to our next one together. Apparently, the program is small enough that anyone in the major has the same schedule. I guess we will be seeing a lot of each other over the next few years.
As we walk, he points out guys he thinks are cute and chatters away about the bars and clubs he’s already checked out in the area before switching seamlessly to analyzing some of the information we learned about fluid dynamics and what he’d already read ahead about in the textbook. The latter is obviously a conversation I’m much more skilled at holding, and I decide I can definitely see becoming friends with Alex. Look at that, I’ve officially doubled my record number of friends. Theo would be so proud.
Pax
As soon as I step into my hotel room, I shed my suit jacket and unbutton the top few buttons on my shirt. Kicking my shoes off, I groan and flex my toes.
The hotel room is painfully generic. It could be any hotel in any city. I would know, I’ve been to most of them. When I took this job, I was excited about the idea of travel. I spent most of my life living in the Midwest, going to the University of Illinois for college. The fact that this position was based in California was enough to entice me, but the thought of getting to fly different places nearly every week, talk to people running multi-billion-dollar companies, I wanted it badly.
I do love it as much as I thought I would. But that doesn’t make these bland, boring hotel rooms any more bearable. Sometimes it helps to head to the nearest bar or jump on a hookup app and find some company. Usually, I’ve got a pretty man face down, ass up on the bed, which makes noticing the décor less of a priority. But not tonight. Tonight I am alone.
I consider the option for several seconds, pulling out my phone and flopping down on the bed. But for some reason, it holds less appeal than it usually does. Which is strange because half the excitement of weekly travel is different hookups in every city.
Instead, I order room service and turn on the TV to browse through the movie options. When I see the new Star Wars movie listed, I click on it and pick up my phone, a smile forming involuntarily on my lips.
Pax: Lightsabers don’t make sense at all
Einstein: True, they do not. I think the plasma beam theory is probably the closest to realistic, but even that has some major issues
Pax: What about contained laser photons?
Einstein: It would be so hot it would literally incinerate anyone near it
Pax: Hmm, someone’s going to have to call George Lucas and ask what he was thinking
Einstein: Solid plan
Pax: Wow, was that sarcasm? I wasn’t sure you had it in you, Nerdlet.
Einstein: Was this just a pretext to tease me?
With anyone else I might take that as a joke too, but there was something about the shyness in Elijah’s eyes when we hung out that tells me he’s just as insecure as that message sounds.
Pax: Not at all, Nerdlet. Just bored.
Einstein: Oh
Pax: What are you up to?
I add a few pillows behind my head to get comfortable, the opening lines of The Last Jedi playing in the background while I watch the little dots bounce on the screen, letting me know Elijah is typing.
Einstein: Homework
Pax: It’s the first week of school, how can you have homework?
Einstein: You realize this is a PhD program, not middle school, right?
Pax: Still. Better you than me.
Einstein: You’re parents said you were good at school. They always bragged about you having a 4.0 GPA at U of I
My fingers hover over the screen of my phone, his words striking me. He isn’t like the guys I’m used to chatting with, he actually knows me. A strange feeling skitters along my skin, and I can’t decide if it’s a pleasant one or not. There’s a certain kind of safety in being able to shape others’ opinions of me, being able to create the exact persona I want them to see. Elijah knowing me like he does leaves me feeling oddly exposed.
Pax: I didn’t hate school, but I’m more than glad to be on to the rest of my life
Einstein: I don’t even know what I’ll do when I’m finished with school. I would rather it never end because real life is daunting
Pax: You’ll be some big, fancy rocket scientist working for NASA
Einstein: Shut up, that’s terrifying
I chuckle to myself and type a response, the bland emptiness of the room fading into the background.
Chapter 5
Elijah
All week I half expect to find out Pax was just messing with me about wanting to hang out. It would make a lot more sense for this to turn out to be some kind of elaborate prank than for him to actually want to be my friend.
After the night he texted me about Star Wars, our text conversations became more frequent. All week he sent me funny memes—science cat seems to be his favorite, and I’ll admit, I enjoy the puns as well. But even the frequent messages didn’t put my nerves at ease. There has to be some sort of trick to this, doesn’t there? Why would someone like Pax want to spend any more time with me than he has to?
The thought strikes me that maybe Theo is still putting him up to it. My stomach twists, and a grimace tugs my lips down.
“Big plans tonight?” Alex asks, pulling me out of my broody thoughts.
“Hmm?”
“It’s Friday night, you must have something fun going on.”
“Oh, no,” I answer automatically before remembering I do have plans. “Actually, I’m hanging out with a f-someone tonight. We’re going to some arcade or something.”
“Is he hot?”
My face heats, and I turn my attention to my open textbook, hoping I can avoid answering. Of course, Paxton is hot, but it’s not like it matters. There are tons of hot people in the world; I don’t see what difference it makes. And why does Alex care anyway?
“I might not even go. I have a lot of reading to do for class,” I say vaguely.
“Oh, so he’s ridiculously hot,” Alex says with an air of knowing. “It’s always the ridiculously hot ones that make us all nervous and stupid.”
“Everyone makes me nervous,” I mutter, and he laughs, giving me a pat on the shoulder.
“I don’t make you nervous,” he points out, his hand lingering on my shoulder for a few seconds, leaving me wondering if he’s trying to hit on me or if he’s just extremely friendly. I squirm under his touch, and he chuckles again.
“The only person who doesn’t make me nervous is my best friend, Theo,” I inform him.
“Why doesn’t Theo make you nervous?”
I shrug, hoping the motion will dislodge his hand, but it remains firmly in place. “He never laughs at me, and he always tells me how he really feels about things, so I never have to guess. He always stood up for me when kids pic
ked on me in middle school and high school.”
“Wow, he sounds like a real Prince Charming,” Alex says with a tone I don’t quite understand.
“He’s just Theo.”
“Huh.”
“I don’t know what that means,” I grumble with irritation. This is what I mean, people don’t make sense and it’s frustrating.
“It doesn’t mean anything. I was just thinking about what you were saying,” he explains simply. “For what it’s worth, I think you should go.”
I give him a curious look, and he stifles what sounds like another laugh.
“Tonight, you should go hang out with the hottie. Even if you’re in love with Theo, it doesn’t mean you can’t hang out with other guys until the two of you find your way to each other.”
“What?” I sputter, my eyebrows jumping up as I try to figure out his words. “If I’m in love with Theo?”
“Well, yeah, it kind of sounds like—”
“No,” I cut him off, shaking my head and smiling at the absurdity. “Theo’s my friend, that’s it.”
“So, what’s the problem with the hottie?”
“There’s no problem, I just hate socializing, and it’s been a long week so I’m not sure I’m up for a whole night of worrying that I’m saying or doing something stupid.” The confession surprises me. It’s the kind of thing I’d normally only confide in Theo, but Alex broke down my defenses with his ridiculous theory.
Rocket Science Page 3
