Eluding Fate

by Delilah Mohan

  I watched him disappear, and I stood in line, completely annoyed, “Thanks Raylee, now Spencer thinks I’m a nun.”

  “It’s Spencer, does it really matter so much?”

  I told her no, but when I thought about our morning, I couldn’t help wonder. Did it? Did it matter to me, or to him, if I hadn’t dated since my ex-husband? Did he care if I was a little rusty in the sack, or a seasoned pro, which I have to assume he is? Did him holding my hand even mean anything at all, or was it a kind gesture between friends?

  Chapter Eighteen

  SPENCER

  Space. Air. Thoughts.

  I needed a minute to breathe and sort through all the thoughts that were bombarding my mind, all of them involving Mari.

  The way her palm felt against mine.

  The fact that there wasn’t going to be a second date with the math teacher.

  The sun beaming off her hair.

  Not dating since her ex, who apparently was named Jack.

  The patch of freckles on her nose.

  The moment I saw Jolts come into view I knew that a trip by the Jot wall was a great excuse to get a moment alone, to breathe. I needed to breathe because I didn’t know what I was doing or what I was thinking. All I knew was that my hand found hers, and I couldn’t stop it if I tried. I couldn’t resist tangling our fingers, pulling her a little closer, breathing her in. The fact that she didn’t let go felt like icing on the damn cake.

  What did it all mean? Hell, I had no clue. But, the moment I learned that her date with the math teacher went absolutely nowhere, I swear I nearly sang with joy. Absolute relief flowed through me, and I guess I could thank Raylee for it. She got me all the responses to the questions I was physically dying to know, but I didn’t even have to work for them.

  The cool air entering Jolts was a welcomed relief from the outside heat, but it wasn’t enough to calm the static that was jolting around within me. I needed a moment to gather my thoughts, check the wall, and try to figure out what the hell I was actually doing here because, honestly, I wasn’t sure I actually knew.

  I broke away from Mari for a moment, insisting she order for us since she knew what I liked. That was part of what drew me to her, she knew me. She didn’t beg to learn, she didn’t ask me a thousand mundane questions about my life to force herself to be knowledgeable, she just observed. She cared. She remembered what she thought was important, and it made a difference. It really did because it proved she had no motive behind learning about me, and sometimes the lack of motive, especially in my line of work, was refreshing.

  She didn’t want to accept money for the food, she never did. Which was fine, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to get my way. So instead of spending time arguing and persisting, I hooked my finger into her back pocket and slipped the bill inside. The warmth of the touch traveled up my arm, and I had to push the knowledge of knowing that this touch was probably our most intimate interaction so far.

  I made my way down the Jot Wall, searching for the stationery and the curvy feminine writing that always seemed to give my soul some relief and the ache in my heart a bit of soothing. I found it toward the back, and I couldn’t fight the smile that curved at my lips as I reached for it. I read the words, memorizing them, then folded the paper and placed it into my wallet, while removing one I had written this morning, and pinning it to the wall.

  I wondered if it was weird that the two people who knew me most were still both strangers to me. Both had their own lives, histories, and secrets, I didn’t know them. I couldn’t fix not knowing the writer of the notes, but I could fix knowing everything there was about Mari. It should’ve been my goal because how could I have feelings for her when I really didn’t know much about her?

  I wasn’t really sure. I wasn’t sure about anything in my life besides time. Time was the one thing I could control as long as I kept on track, but being around Mari, I found it harder and harder to keep to my schedule, because she made me want to forget. Would it be such a bad thing to forget for a while? Forget why time was so important to begin with?

  My muddled thoughts churned as I made my way to the restroom, mainly focusing on Mari and what I had to do, instead of what I wanted to do. I had to get to know her, putting all thoughts of want aside. By the time I left the restroom, I had made up my mind to focus on her and not us, at least for a little while because without knowing her, how could I be so sure that an us is what I really wanted.

  Making my way back to her, I switched places at the pick-up counter, allowing her to use the restroom as well. I waited for her name to be called as I grabbed the breakfast sandwiches from the tray and smiled when I saw her coming toward me. She really was beautiful, a unique beauty that you didn’t find everywhere. A beauty I wanted but had to force myself to wait for until I got to know her.

  Handing her the breakfast sandwich, I tried to concentrate on something, anything, other than the confused and conflicted thoughts running through my mind. “So, are you cooking dinner tonight? I did buy breakfast after all.”

  She took a giant bite of her sandwich and sighed with a look of ecstasy on her face. After chewing slowly and swallowing, she quirked an eyebrow at me, “I told you I would have paid for breakfast, but now I’m keeping your change.”

  “But, I won. So, you’re cooking dinner.” I took a bite of my own sandwich, loving the smooth mixture of the warm egg and cheese.

  “Do you ever cook? I mean, really cook?” she questioned as I held the door open for her. As she walked through she continued a few feet to the street, where the farmers’ market was still going full force.

  “I mean, I have. It’s just questionable. You’re so much better at it. Plus, home-cooked meals have to be better for Victoria than constantly eating takeout, right?”

  “You need a maid that cooks.” I was walking close to her, needing to keep her warmth next to me.

  “But they wouldn’t be as good as you.” She scoffed at that.

  “Have you always been this good at sucking up, or is it something that you learned over time?”

  “I actually never have to suck up. Most people give me what I want, whenever I want. You’re pretty much the only one who makes me work for it,” I admitted.

  “How does that make you feel?” She put on a voice, sounding like a therapist.

  “If you want my honest answer, it’s sort of annoying, and it cuts into my timing schedule, but I also love challenges, so, there are pros and cons. You’re getting me off subject here. Dinner. You cook, I buy. Seems like a fair trade, right?”

  She gave me a look of defeat, and I couldn’t help but give her my award-winning smile in return. She was weak to my charm, females usually were, and although I didn’t use it often on her, it was a relief to know it worked when I truly wanted it to. After finally getting her to agree, the rest of the trip was used gathering ingredients for dinner and chatting about work, my upcoming obligations, her upcoming book release, and the oddities life throws at us. Nothing too deep, but that was okay because I was determined to learn whatever I could, however I could, for as long as I could, about the feisty little redhead that lived next door.

  I sent Victoria over to Mari’s apartment around five. Dinner was planned for six, and I would hopefully be home from dinner at seven twenty-five so I could be under the steaming water in my luxury shower at exactly seven thirty. In bed by eight, and rising before the sun, per my usual schedule.

  With Victoria out of the way, I managed to get a little cleaning done. Nothing major, just did some dishes, gathered up Victoria’s paper cranes that she left lying on the counter, and did a little vacuuming. But by five forty-five, I was bored. I knew that going over early would only put me in the way, but if I pulled up a seat at the bar or something, just to watch, I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be bugging them too badly. Right?

  Standing in the hallway, locking my door, I already heard the heavy stream of music flowing from Mari’s apartment. It must have been Victoria’s pick because I would rec
ognize Twenty-One Pilots anywhere, especially her favorite repeat song, “Ride”. It was loud, but acceptably so since our building had good insulation, it wasn’t heard through my apartment walls, only in the outer hallway. I didn’t bother knocking, most of the time I didn’t anymore anyway. But, when the door swung open, I was caught by surprise.

  I didn’t expect them to have Mari’s furniture pushed back, nor did I expect with music, came dancing. Completely beautiful, carefree dancing and together they looked happy. Pure, unobstructed joy filled their faces and my heart as I watched my girls stoop to a level of goofy I’ve never seen either of them display, and dance their souls out.

  Mari spotted me first, her honey eyes meeting mine across the room, a smile pasted on her face as she fought to catch her breath. She tilted her head, gesturing me to join her, them, in their crazy antics. But, I couldn’t. I was frozen. My mind still reeling and my heart still hammering just from watching her.

  “Your uncle doesn’t want to dance, Victoria,” she announced as she bent over her cell phone that was sitting on the speaker’s dock.

  Victoria’s head turned rapidly in my direction, finding me leaning against the open doorframe. Her face was red from embarrassment, but she suddenly was looking older to me, more adult then kid, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready for this transformation just yet. “He isn’t much fun.”

  “Maybe we should change that. Maybe he just needs a little boost from his childhood classic collection.” Mari looked toward me, the sound of a distantly familiar song beginning to strum through the air. She began to slowly stalk in my direction and I know it’s not the time, not with Victoria standing mere feet away, but the simplest look from her causes my cock to stir and my mind to jumble. “Do you like to dance, Spencer?”

  “Not if I can help it,” I replied, trying to remember why I wanted to keep my distance, just be friends for a while, when all I want to do at this moment is run my fingers through the messy strands of hair and pull her lips to mine.

  She stopped in front of me, blocking Victoria from view. “Well, tonight, we dance.” She used both arms to pull at my elbow, trying to pull me toward the center of the room, her fingers slid down my arm, tangling with my own fingers as she tugged. I felt it, every pull she suddenly had on me, tugging me toward her, willing to go anywhere she asked because she asked.

  I followed, unable to resist both the physical and mental pull she has on me. It wasn’t until I was standing awkwardly in the middle of her living room, both Mari and Victoria dancing crazy dance moves around me that the music even registered to my ears. “Wait!” I tried to shout above the music, probably unsuccessful, “Is this Wham!?”

  Taking both my hands in hers, she moved them around, trying to force me to dance. Holding my arms above her head, she swirled under them, and when our eyes met again, she giggled, “Does it matter?”

  It didn’t, not really. All that mattered was the people in this room was here with me. Laughing and having fun, and that they wanted me to have fun, too. So, I put aside my dislike for dancing, just this once, and let her tug me around, enjoying myself, feeling the music . . . and I danced.

  Chapter Nineteen

  MARI

  I felt her, standing behind me. A ghost of a whisper, but she was there.

  “You can come out!” I called into the murky shadows that surrounded us, hoping she would take my invitation as it was, and show herself. “I can feel you, I can always feel you.”

  “It wasn’t supposed to be this way, you were never supposed to find out.” A soft whisper traveled through the wind, barely reaching my ears.

  “But, I know now,” I said into the breeze.

  “Since the moment I first saw you, I couldn’t keep you out of my mind. Every resting thought was you. Do you think it’s why I’m here? Is saving you my destiny?” Her voice was soft, a mix of defeat and longing and I wanted to see her, feel her, comfort her, but I knew our circumstances would never allow.

  I brushed some twigs and dirt off the stone in front of me. “I think… I think you did save me,” I confessed.

  “The truth? It doesn’t scare you? How did you find me?”

  I heard the slam of my front door, but I wasn’t alarmed. By now, I was used to Spencer barging into my apartment like he owned it. It was slightly later than usual though, and I was curious as to why he would be going through my fridge at close to nine o’clock at night when according to the reliable schedule he kept, he would already be asleep. Especially, since it’s Wednesday and he gets up early to go over work notes every morning.

  After a few moments of wondering, the curtains from the window behind me parted, and Spencer’s big frame was clumsily climbing through the window. He scrapped a chair across the iron floor of my window’s balcony before settling next to me. Without saying a word, he used the balcony rail to pop the cap off his beer and then he took a few giant gulps.

  I saved my story, and closed my laptop before I finally broke the silence. “Long night?” I asked, as I reached for his beer and took a swallow, then handed it back to him.

  “Long enough.”

  I followed his gaze, looking up at the stars above our head, “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

  “I have a lot on my mind, I knew you were up, and well . . . somethings are worth being up late for.”

  He gave me fake cheers with his beer bottle in the air before he put his bare feet on the bar in front of us, his toes curling around the iron. “Want to talk about it, whatever it is?”

  He was silent for a long time, not making eye contact, just staring up at the sky like he didn’t hear me. Finally, when I was close to giving up on an answer, he brought his drink back to his lips, took a big gulp, then said, “It’s almost my birthday. It’s tomorrow.”

  I nodded my head like I understood, but I didn’t. So, he’s gaining another year. So, what? It happens to the best of us. “You are losing sleep because you’re getting old?”

  He shook his head like I wasn’t getting it. “Our birthday. My brother Simon and I. Victoria’s dad.”

  I pulled my eyebrows together in concentration. “Wait, so her dad . . . was your . . .”

  “Twin.” It was a statement. Smothered in so much emotion, yet none at all. It weighed heavy on him that I can obviously see, but he wouldn’t admit it to just anyone. Not the impenetrable Spencer Sully, who has the local T.V. world wrapped around his finger.

  Now that it was out there, I couldn’t figure out how I had missed it. Victoria looked so much like him, that really, the only logical possibility was that her dad was his twin. But, it also explained why they had so many issues. What kid would want to live with an uncle who looked exactly like her dead father? Or man want to live with a kid that was a constant reminder of his missing piece?

  The silence fell over us again, more suffocating than before, but I wasn’t sure what to say to him, or how to comfort him, knowing that they were just words. It turned out, I didn’t really have to say anything, just let the moment run its course, and he would follow.

  After a long, deep breath, he finally broke the silence, “You know, we were so much alike, but also so different. We fed off each other’s chaos, my poor mom always told us she didn’t think she would make it to us turning eighteen. That we were sending her to an early grave. We got into some minor trouble as youth, nothing too bad, but man, you would think we were raising the devil from the dead, the way my mom acted sometimes. He was wilder than I was, but I could never turn down a bet, and he knew it.”

  He laughed to himself a bit, “Once, we were at this college party. We weren’t even old enough to drink yet, not like that stopped us. We were pretty damn wasted. Probably too wasted to make decisions, but try telling inebriated us that. So, we made a bet, first one to snag a girl’s number wins. I was so off my game, so drunk I could hardly stand straight, so it really was no surprise when a few minutes later, Simon comes strolling up with a girl’s number. The next day, I’m sitting in a chair, ready to take the pai
n of my punishment, and he had to add salt to the wound. He calls the girl, right there, and makes a date, all the while watching me with a devilish gleam in his eyes. Her name was Rachel, and at that moment we didn’t know that nine months later, Simon would be holding a six-pound-five-ounce Victoria in his hands, or that her mom would instantly sign away her rights, without a glance back. He was in love, we both were, and from then on, there was no more parties or drinking. He finished college two years early, eager to begin his career and create a stable life for her.”

  “She’s a great girl,” I offered.

  “The best,” he confirmed.

  Not really knowing what to do, but knowing that he confessed something so meaningful, I leaned over and rested my head on his shoulder. He stiffened for a moment before taking another drink and relaxing. “So, you lost the bet? What were the losing consequences?”

  I felt his body move in a silent laugh. “A piercing of my brother’s choice.”

  I sat up straight, “Wait! Straight-laced Spencer has a piercing?”

  “I do.”

  I turned my body to stare at him, shocked at this new discovery. “Well…”

  I saw the amusement on his face, “Well what?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me Spencer, let’s see it,” I demanded.

  He sucked in a breath, making a hissing sound. “I don’t know, Mari. Are we at that level of friendship, yet?”

  “I don’t know, Spencer. You just walked into my apartment without knocking and took a beer from my fridge without asking. I personally would think whatever level we need to be at has already passed,” I answered, sarcasm dripping from my voice.