Entanglement

by Max Ellendale

  "First sign of doomsday to come." I dropped back in my spot on the sofa. "Time to talk instead."

  "About what?" She returned to her seat, this time pulling the blanket around her shoulders and sitting cross-legged to face me.

  "You know what. Something is bothering you, unstable core. Let's go here." I clapped my hands a few times like an obnoxious mother and she chuckled.

  "It's complicated," she said, shrugging as she gazed down to her hands in her lap.

  "Life's complicated in general."

  "Can I ask you a personal question?"

  "Sure." I leaned my elbow on the back of the sofa while watching her.

  "When was the last time you had sex?"

  I nearly choked on my breath as that question was the last one I'd expected. "Um…a few years at least? Why?"

  "Did you enjoy it?" Again, her eyes remained fixed on her hands as she picked at the nail polish that matched her lipstick.

  "Yes… Mira, how much alcohol was in that coffee?" I gulped down the tingling sensation in my mouth that often accompanied anxiety or a good hurl.

  "Enough. I've never." She shrugged, and the confident, playful professor no longer existed in that moment. Nor did the woman who tore into an opposing player to win a soccer game.

  "Never what?"

  "Enjoyed sex. I mean, I enjoyed it, but not…"

  I had no idea where she was going with this, and I worried that I would say something to fuck up the trust she had in telling me these intimate details about her life. "Can you explain?"

  "You were there the other night when the girls from the team talked about who they're dating and sleeping with. It's never been that way for me," she said, her voice soft. "Never."

  "Do they ask you questions or put you on the spot?" I asked, hoping this was the cause of her discomfort. I didn't mind talking about my love life, or lack thereof, and the women seemed to pick up on that during dinner, egging on the conversation.

  "Not so much now, but they used to. Hearing what everyone says though…it's just. I never liked being intimate in that way. With Declan, we were, but eventually, his disinterest affected it. We were still together, but we rarely had sex. And when we did, I enjoyed the closeness but not…" Her discomfort grew and she nearly writhed in her seat. "After him, I dated a few men, but it wasn't ever really anything worth…anything."

  Still, I struggled with where she was taking this conversation, so I attempted a more direct path. "Some women don't have orgasms during sex or particularly enjoy it. I mean, men miss the target a lot, I hear. Well, says Angelina anyway."

  Her gaze flickered in my direction. "I know, it's just. I don't know."

  "Have you ever had an orgasm? I mean, self-inflicted or other-inflicted?" I danced around the delicate topic as best I could. My brain spiraled out of control. I wanted to help her, to be there for her, but my ability to decode her enigma wasn't strong enough to breach the barrier.

  "No, I mean. Not that I can remember anyway…" She held my gaze briefly, then tore away to stare outside.

  "Mira, if you did, you'd remember. Trust me…" I dropped my hand on the back of the sofa to urge her to look at me again. "What's got you thinking about this?"

  "I don't know."

  "I think you do…"

  That was all it took for her to crumble in her own muted way. Like when she told me about Declan the first time, a lone, silent tear slid down her cheek. She swiped at it, then turned to watch the fire. I waited her out, allowing her time to process whatever she needed to.

  "You've been a good friend to me," she said, bringing even more confusion to the situation.

  "You've been a good friend to me as well. I don't have many. Doing things with you has been a lot of fun," I told her, hoping my authenticity would urge hers as well.

  "I don't want that to change."

  "Why would it change?" Now the tingling on my tongue turned to anxiety that pitted my gut. What was actually happening here? Was this actually happening? What was in that coffee?

  She shrugged, then dropped her face into her hands momentarily. Just as quickly as she did, she sat upright, sniffled, and wiped her face. "Are you hungry? I could fix something."

  "No. Right now, I'm nervous as to why you think we wouldn't keep being friends."

  "I don't want to talk about that anymore." She held one hand out in front of her, while the other gripped her shirt at her chest.

  "Okay. We don't have to. Talk to me about quantum physics instead." I scooted closer to her, noting her breathing picking up. "What's a quantum leap?"

  Tears streamed her cheeks, but she found her voice quickly. "An electron jumps from one orbit in an atom to another." She sniffled, though her eyes darted around quickly. "To purge energy, taking on or ridding of a photon." Her explanation followed a series of equations that she blurted out though I could hardly follow it. It seemed to make her feel better about things, and her mood lifted some. When she described something called a photo-electric effect, the zap of the power going out only served to emphasize the moment.

  "I think we quantum leapt into a blackhole." I pointed toward the ceiling where the light went out above us. It made her laugh and she dropped her head back on the sofa.

  "Good thing for the fire." She drew in a deep breath and seemed to calm down after the scientific distraction.

  "Yup." I gazed out her big window facing the city, and noted the darkness of the grid save for a few places here or there. "Looks like the whole area is out."

  "It gets really quiet when we have blackouts."

  "I don't mind it."

  We sat in silence for a long, pregnant minute, and when I looked back at her, I caught her staring at me. Pain contorted her features, and I knew I missed the target with our conversation. I turned on the cushion, and crawled to kneel in front of her, leaning back on my heels.

  "What can I do to help you feel better, Mira?"

  "I don't know." She held her hands up in front of me, her palms an inch from my stomach as if trying to stop me from getting too close. "Sit outside and listen to the rain?"

  "Okay." I stepped off the sofa and held my elbow to her. "C'mon."

  With some hesitation, she accepted the gesture and we made our way to the covered balcony. Together, we sat in the chairs facing the city. The storm quieted to pattering rain, and in the lull of conversation, nothing felt empty with Mira there. Even if we simply occupied the same space, a part of my discontented heart settled inside me. While I worried for the fate of our friendship because of everything she said, whatever it was didn't interfere at present. That's all I had to hope for tonight.

  Chapter Seven

  As promised, Mira and I made it to the movies on Friday, though her quietness remained steadfast. We sat in silence beside each other during the film, and shared popcorn, but afterward, little conversation followed. Part of me wished she had a weekend class that I could barge in on just to hear her voice again.

  On Sunday, while I fixed dinner and waited for her to arrive, worry dampened my mood. Would Mira cancel? No show? I thought she might. She followed through on our movie plans, but she didn't text me at all in between. Normally, we found some small reason to communicate, even just to confirm our plans.

  Robert and Daniel played a murderous videogame in the living room while Eleanor lounged on the armchair with her bare feet propped against the wall while she watched them. She hadn't changed out of her pajamas all day, and I wasn't about to tell her to do so. For the first time in her life, the kid wasn't being shuffled around and controlled. If she wanted to eat filet mignon and mashed potatoes in pajamas, so be it.

  I set the table for five, and found myself folding napkins beside each plate. In a rare moment, I reminded myself of my mother. She wasn't all terrible, like I'd convinced myself at times. She took care of us and loved us the best she could, even if our emotional needs weren't met. After all, she taught me how to cook and that was the first entry into the hearts of my younger siblings. Our family dinners
became the place where we spent time together, talking and laughing, and also processing our experiences.

  Eleanor approached me after I'd finished the mashed potatoes and began salting the vegetables for roasting.

  "What's the matter, Beej?" she asked, coming up behind me and giving me a bear hug. "You're quiet."

  "I don't think Mira's going to come." I leaned into her embrace and held her arms.

  "Why not? I thought you were good friends."

  "Something has been up with her this past week or so," I told her, then offered her a bite of raw broccoli. She accepted it like a good baby bird. "I'm not sure why."

  "Well, I hope she shows up. I saw her at school on Friday. She looks stern." Eleanor scrunched up her nose and I laughed.

  "Maybe in class as a professor. Not in everyday life."

  "Well, she's important to you," Eleanor said, her brow smoothed with her conviction. "I hope she keeps her promise."

  "Me too, nugget." I kissed her cheek then tucked her hair behind her ear. "You're a good girl, Ellie. In case no one ever told you."

  "Do you think I would make a good teacher? I was thinking about education as my major…" She stole another piece of broccoli before I slipped the tray in the oven.

  "I think you'd make a great teacher. You love school. You'd never have to leave."

  "Yeah." She laughed at my observation, her eyes twinkling with delight. "I'm thinking perhaps a math teacher."

  "Go for it, girl. Math your heart out."

  "Cool." Ellie bounced out of the kitchen like a happy little sprite, and dove onto the sofa by her brother. "Let me kill stuff now, boys."

  "After this episode you can," said Robbie. "It's hard to switch in the middle."

  "Okay."

  Half an hour later, I brought all the food to the table with Robert's help and we called the others to join us. My stomach swirled with sadness when Mira didn't show up at our set time. I tried to smile, and be present for my family, but Eleanor watched me like a hawk.

  Just as I was about to sit down with them, a knock sounded on the front door. My heart skipped a beat and Eleanor nearly beamed with delight. The hope in her sapphire eyes made me smile, even if it was just from looking at her.

  I made for the door, tugging it open and half expecting to see someone other than Mira, but there she stood, uber femme in her tight jeans and sleek sweater, and utterly beautiful. I hated how the sight of her brought both the joy of seeing my friend, and the desire of something more.

  "I was worried," I said, nearly grabbing her in a hug before she could step inside.

  "I'm sorry," she whispered, returning my embrace with one arm while lifting the other to show me a white bakery box. "I brought chocolate cake as reparations."

  "Accepted. Come in, we're just sitting down." I took her coat and hung it on the overfilled rack by the door.

  "I really am sorry," she said, her eyes glassy and red-ringed like she hadn't slept in awhile.

  "You're here now, right?" My excitement got the better of me, and before I could stop myself, I stroked the knuckle of my index finger over her cheek. She blinked slowly, leaning into the gesture in a second so fleeting that I thought I'd imagined it. I stared at her, searching her expression for understanding as my heart began to pound in my chest. My impulsive touches told me I was, indeed, leaking and it worried me.

  "Yeah," she spoke softly, nodding.

  "Eleanor will bombard you. Feel free to go full-on Professor Lewis on her," I teased, hoping to ease the tension a bit.

  "I'll try." She stood close to me after I relieved her of the bakery box and led her into the kitchen.

  "Guys, this is Mira," I said, drawing everyone's attention to us. "Mira, this is my sister Eleanor." I gestured to her when she waved. "My brother Robert, and his boyfriend Daniel." I pointed them out and Robert stood to shake her hand.

  "Hi, Professor."

  "Oh, you I recognize." Mira smiled now, light returning to her eyes. "Good to see you, Robert." Daniel also shook her hand after a casual exchange of pleasantries.

  "You as well." He smiled and a formality washed over him as he pulled out her chair. "Happy to have you."

  Eleanor giggled behind her hands and I flicked her ear on the way to the kitchen to drop off the cake. I returned just as everyone settled around the table.

  "You have a lovely home," said Mira, her nerves evident in her coarse smile. "Thank you for inviting me."

  "Who would like iced tea?" Daniel followed Robert's lead and began pouring drinks from the pitcher while Robert cut the roast and began serving everyone.

  And just like that, we settled into the family table to share a meal. Like always, Eleanor, Robert, and Daniel carried the conversation. They talked about everything from school, to videogames, to dorming, and relationships. Mira and I ate quietly, equally entertained by them. She glanced at me at one point, offering me a genuine smile that I hadn't seen in days.

  "They're sweet," she said, leaning over to whisper. I nodded, looking on with pride at my siblings. How had they grown to be such great people?

  "Law school is pretty miserable, but I'm almost done," offered Daniel, addressing Eleanor's comments about becoming a teacher. "Special Education teachers are in demand if you're interested in that."

  "I am, a little. Mira." Eleanor turned her attention to us. "Do you like teaching?"

  "I do, very much," she answered in between bites. "For as much joy there are equally as many challenges. My biggest pet peeve is with students who are goof offs. I have little patience for that. So many kids would die for their positions at the university, and yet they're blowing it off."

  "I can understand that. Did you always want to be a teacher?" Ellie held her own and suddenly eighteen didn't seem so young.

  "I didn't, no. I started out as an adjunct teaching nuclear physics, and from there I grew to full-time. It's great and I get summers off if I choose." Mira wagged her brows at Ellie. "Bonus teacher points."

  "Summers off?" Ellie perked. "I'm in. I've found my calling."

  We all chuckled, and Mira's ease folded in seamlessly. "Robert, you're finishing social work school?"

  "Almost. One semester left. I'm halfway through my internship. I know I'll be broke for most of my life being a social worker, but I enjoy it," he explained, and the maturity level of my siblings experienced a quantum leap. I couldn't help smiling at them as they spoke to Mira so candidly. "But that's why I've got this guy." Robert grinned at Daniel. "The breadwinner."

  Daniel laughed and bumped his head against my brother's. "Intellectual Property here I come."

  "That's amazing." Mira grinned at the two of them and Ellie snickered while she helped herself to another serving of potatoes.

  Dinner carried on without a hitch, and the trio of young adults entertained Mira more than I expected. She engaged with them easily, and her spirits returned to their baseline by the time we cleared the table together.

  With dinner put away, and dessert on the table. The youngsters returned to the living room and their videogames. This time instead of insane war games, they chose Mario Kart so all three of them could play together. I readied the coffee maker to brew, and Mira came to stand beside me.

  "Your family is beautiful, Billie." She turned around to lean against the counter, facing me. "They're very sweet and motivated."

  "They are." I glanced at them then back to her. "I'm lucky."

  "They're lucky. They do treat you as a mother figure, especially Eleanor," she said, and I noted her hip came to lean against mine. With the proximity stirred the rumblings of ache in my belly. All I wanted to do was touch her, especially with the addition of her sweet perfume driving me crazy. I squashed those feelings, as I'd done for months at this point, and focused on the coffee pot.

  "I know. Sometimes they feel like my kids."

  "In a way, they are."

  "Yeah." I drew in a deep breath and nodded. "Every day, they need me less and less. It makes me confident that I've given them goo
d survival tools."

  "Your family treated you poorly because you were gay?" she asked, her voice softening as she stared at her boots.

  "They did. Robbie, too. They attempted to send me to conversion camps, but I ran away each time. Eventually, when Child Protective Services got involved, they stopped. They never tried to send Robbie because of it," I told her, watching as the coffee slowly filled the carafe.

  "That's horrible, Billie. I'm sorry." She met my gaze again, her brow softening with her emotions. "I'm sorry that you went through that."

  "The hardest part was they loved me and hated me at the same time. You know? Mom would cuddle me and tuck me in at night, then a day later tell me Satan lived in me. It was a real mindfuck. Part of me was grateful they didn't know I was gay until I was sixteen. It was two years of chaos. Robbie knew much younger. He had it harder." I glanced over at him as he laughed with the others, and doted on Daniel in between races. "He's doing good now."

  "He is." Mira gave my forearm a squeeze. "So are you."

  "Thanks." I held her gaze, and there it was again, the pained expression that tightened her forehead and narrowed her eyes. "What's your family's opinion on gay people?"

  "I'm not sure." And her attention returned to her shoes as she crossed her ankles. "We don't talk about things like that."

  "Are they conservative?"

  "I don't think so, but they're disinterested in politics overall. My parents had high expectations of us for our lives. My siblings fulfilled the classical systems of a nuclear family. I didn't," she said, finally sharing more of herself. "Especially after Declan."

  "Did you ever want kids?" I asked, lifting the carafe to pour out two cups of coffee before handing her one.

  "At one point. Now?" She shrugged, but accepted the mug. "It's not something I think about."

  "I'm glad mine are grown up and college age." I smirked after blowing on the hot beverage. "For the first time, I feel like I'm living a little instead of worrying so much. You're the first non-work friend I've made in years."

  "Same. Or soccer." She brought the mug to her lips, and I noted how her lipstick never left a mark. "Thank you for having me tonight, Billie. It was lovely to meet your family."