Throwing his tie, shirt, belt, and shoes into a pile, Taban stared at his frame against the dark sky reflected in the pool. With a shudder of disgust, he let his pants fall off his hips and flung himself into the water. Feeling the icy water stream over his warm flesh, he kept his body rigid to slide to the bottom of the pool. Turning on his back, he ran his hand over the tile, contrasting the smooth ceramic surface with the rough cement. Five meters of water pressed against his chest. He screamed. Beneath this liquid barrier, he was sheltered from the human world. No one could hear him. No one could hurt him.
When he went surfing, he would allow himself to get caught in a riptide that would sweep him out to the open ocean away from everyone. No matter how far out or what the conditions were, he knew he could always swim back to shore. Sometimes he’d watch for attractive women caught in the current to rescue before the lifeguards could get them. The women would always do nice things for him after he brought them to shore. Mr. Mir wanted him to compete nationally in distance because he knew that his son could outswim anyone. Taban carefully kept his times above state qualification, so he couldn’t compete.
The air in Taban’s chest started to push on his lungs. He exhaled and watched as air pockets ascended like silvery jellyfish to the surface. He pushed off, propelling himself to the surface. Throwing his head back, he launched beads of water off of his hair. Taban swept his hands across his face to remove the chlorinated water from his eyes and flopped onto his back. Hopefully, no one would walk by and notice that he was in his underwear and not a swimsuit, although the thought of being caught thrilled him slightly.
The last rays of sunlight glinted off the chicken-wire fence. He squinted and tried to picture his sister, Telyn. She resembled him with the same dark skin tone and hair, but with sweet, brown eyes. He lay his arm across his eyes and let his body sink into the pool. The water felt like ice as it rushed over the skin he had exposed to the warm air. As he retreated from the world again, he wished she weren’t so distant. His parents lived together during his early childhood and always fought with each other. He and his sister would hide away together. From the few messages he received from his mother, Taban gathered that Mr. Mir showered Telyn with gifts and treats. It was so easy for Mr. Mir to buy a child’s affection. That was how his father convinced him to move to Malibu. It wasn’t until recently that he realized why his mother no longer wanted anything to do with him—he reminded her of his father.
His arm throbbed from his birth control injection. He glanced at the green marker on his forearm, which indicated his injection was up-to-date. Under the mark he saw his tattoo, and a memory he had locked away rose to the surface. It was an ancient symbol known as the Pictish Beast that would have been a beautiful nod to his mixed Scottish-Moorish heritage if his father hadn’t marred it. Taban felt throbbing pain in his arm, as he remembered being strapped to a chair by two men his father hired. He thrashed in the water when he relived the moment the needle pierced his flesh. “This way you will always remember what you have,” his father had said. Scratching at the mark, as though he could remove it with his nails, Taban tried to remember what had triggered that action from his father. He’d probably refused to smile for headshots or some other minor rebellious act. If he didn’t do exactly what his father instructed, he feared what would happen to Telyn, Eadowen, or worse, himself.
As the last glow of crimson faded from the outlines of the clouds, a chilly breeze made wakes on the pool. With a single stroke of his arm, Taban slid through the water to the edge of the pool. He placed his hands on the edge of the pool and pushed to a standing position on the deck in a fluid motion. Running his hands down his chest and arms, he attempted to skim some of the liquid off. He buttoned up his shirt, hung the tie around his neck, and headed back to his car.
CHAPTER 9
WHEN WATER IS BURNED
SLIGHTLY OFF-PITCH HARP MUSIC greeted him when he opened the door to his dorm. A large red candle on the windowsill above Eadowen’s bed, made the room inviting. The flame appeared to sway along with the soft harp melody. Taban remained silent, so as not to interrupt his friend’s strumming.
“Is the pitch wrong?”
“You play in many pitches.” Taban hummed to help his friend, but Eadowen over corrected.
“What’s wrong, Taban?”
“Nothing. I got you truffle oil too.” Taban held up the cloth grocery bag. “I know how much you like to use the stuff.”
“Thanks. I didn’t know truffle oil was sold by the liter.”
“What’s that song called?” Taban continued.
“Ea.” Eadowen watched his friend through the strings of the harp. “Taban, what happened this afternoon?”
Taban unceremoniously moved the harp and got on his knees in front of Eadowen to put the groceries in the mini-fridge. Maca didn’t look like it needed to be refrigerated, but he put it in anyway. “What’s Ea mean?”
“It means ‘little fire.’ What’s your father trying to force you to do this time?”
“He wants to use my body to get something he wants.” Taban stood hitting his head on the wooden frame of Eadowen’s bed. “So, like I said, nothing new.”
He sat down on the bed next to Eadowen, who bent over to get a well-used ice pack out of the mini-fridge. Holding the cold pack on top of Taban’s head, Eadowen waited silently.
“Look. I know I sleep around.” Taban took the ice pack from Eadowen and squeezed it in his hands. “I receive really nice gifts and sometimes cash from the rich women I date, but that’s my choice—no one is making me do it. And it’s certainly not my fault if those gifts are Ferraris and trips to the Bahamas.”
“You say that like I’ve accused you of something.” Eadowen smirked. “More importantly, is there a reason you haven’t reported your father’s abuse?”
“With my dad’s connections, I’d end up in an even worse situation if I tried to tell anyone. The only reason I tell this stuff to you is because I know you won’t gossip about it.” Taban rubbed the bump on his scalp. “It’s not that big a deal.”
“Taban …”
“My head is fine,” Taban answered with a grin knowing the result of his momentary lack of coordination was not what most concerned Eadowen. He slammed the restroom door shut before Eadowen had a chance to ask any more questions.
Instead of soothing him, the hot water made his blood boil. He wanted to do something—anything that his father would hate. Taban turned the shower’s temperature to an icy cold to enjoy the evanescent pain that accompanied the shock of transitioning from hot to cold. With a single lunge he shut off the water to the shower, watching as the remnant swirled down the drain. After loading his chlorine-dry hair with leave-in conditioner and throwing on pajama pants, he returned to the main room.
A dish towel with traces of hair clippings lay on Eadowen’s lap. The small scissors Eadowen used expertly to trim millimeters off of his bangs flashed in the candlelight. “Mirror,” Eadowen muttered to his tablet, mounted on his bed post. The tablet switched from his homework chemistry lecture to a reflection. Checking his face from all visible angles, Eadowen picked up the scissors and made a few quick upward cuts. He clenched the strands with his fist for a moment, then released, making his bangs flare across his forehead. Removing his glasses, he paused the chemistry lecture. Then he rolled up the towel and placed it at the foot of his bed. Eadowen dabbed his perfume on his wrists and neck and returned the cologne bottle to its place next to the candle on the windowsill.
“Can I dim the lights some more?” Maybe if I darken the room, Eadowen will sleep instead of asking questions, he thought.
“You look like you’re going to cry.”
Taban wiped drops of water from his wet hair off his forehead. The situation reminded him of the conversation they’d had two years ago, after he’d received the tattoo torture. It had culminated in him sobbing with his head on Eadowen’s lap. He’d cried about petty things around his roommate, but that was the only time he’d comple
tely broken down. Taban decided he would rather not repeat that episode. Eadowen moved to allow his friend room to sit next to him on his bed. It was such a hot night that Eadowen’s shirt was undone, revealing the scars on his neck and chest. Taban inspected his friend’s muscular abdomen and round, freckled face. Taban determined that Eadowen, though not beautiful, was a pleasant plain. There are lots of people better looking than me, Taban thought. What makes me so appealing? Does it work on everyone? Does Eadowen find me attractive like other people do? Running his finger over his lower lip, Taban contemplated what his father had said about Eadowen. Now that he thought about it, he knew very little about his roommate. Eadowen came from somewhere in Canada, had to try in school, and wasn’t rich. If he hadn’t been awarded a scholarship, because he’d scored extremely high on the International Emotional Intelligence Test, Eadowen would never be able to afford the school. It seemed strange that his father had forbid him from “getting involved,” with Eadowen who seemed relatively harmless. Though the thought had never occurred to Taban before, a devious idea began to form in his mind. He could test his supposed appeal and completely go against his father’s wishes and the only test subject he needed was sitting next to him. Taban slid closer to Eadowen. First he had to ask for something Eadowen would refuse to give. Then he’d see if he could get Eadowen to reveal it.
“What happened to make you wheelchair-bound?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Eadowen noticed how much closer Taban had moved toward him. “Do you want something to eat?”
“How about you?” Taban let his eyes fall to Eadowen’s chin before looking into his hazel eyes.
“I’m not hungry,” Eadowen replied without a trace of sarcasm. It was impossible to tell if Eadowen ignored or missed the innuendo. “Would you help me with a chemistry question?”
“Sure.”
“I can’t keep these straight.” Eadowen indicated two structural diagrams on the screen.
That’s acetylcholine and that’s norepinephrine. They’re both neurotransmitters and both are involved in decision making.” Taban pointed to a nonapeptide molecule on Eadowen’s tablet. “Know what that one is?”
“No, but it looks familiar.” Eadowen scratched his cheek in frustration. “I really should know this one.”
“That’s oxytocin.” Taban rested his hand on the wall next to Eadowen’s shoulder. “I can show you how that one works in a way you’ll never forget.”
“Eh? You know what,” Eadowen replied. “I think it’s coming back to me.” Grabbing Eadowen’s wrist, Taban pressed him against the head of his bed. The swift motion caused Eadowen’s hand to knock against his tablet screen turning it back to mirror mode. “What’re you doin—?” Taban touched his mouth to Eadowen’s lips. “Well.” Eadowen turned his head so that Taban’s lips slid to his cheek. “I’ll certainly remember now.”
Taban ran his hand across his friend’s collarbone slipping Eadowen’s shirt off of his shoulder, then he pecked Eadowen’s neck. As he did this, he noticed his reflection in the tablet-mirror. His large blue eyes looked almost violet because his pupils were dilated more than seemed natural. Leaning back to look at his friend, Taban noticed Eadowen’s pupils were also dilated. Unfortunately, the room was dark enough that the sympathetic reaction would not necessarily indicate attraction. Starting with cartoonish pupils, a list was beginning to form in his mind about factors that might play into his attractiveness. Taban nuzzled Eadowen’s shoulder, inhaling his friend’s unique floral scent, which reminded him of a class lecture on pheromones. Many high-end colognes included androstadienone, a chemical naturally occurring in humans. Though only that morning he’d denied special pheromones, he decided it wasn’t impossible his body produced a surplus amount of that chemical. Though he knew very little about the subject, he’d heard that hormonal fluctuations in people affected others close to them. Taban thought it seemed more likely that his hormonal shifts affected others more strongly than most people, rather than the idea that he produced super-pheromones. He needed more data.
“Kiss me,” Taban commanded.
“We just did.”
“That wasn’t a kiss. That was a handshake with our mouths.”
“Taban, what’s provoking this?” Eadowen raised his high-arched eyebrows.
“You are.”
Pushing up against his friend’s body, Taban let his tongue touch Eadowen’s lower lip, but Eadowen used his teeth as a barrier for further intimacy. Taban could feel drops of water sliding from his hair onto Eadowen’s face. “You find me, like, attractive and stuff, right?” Taban brushed some of the water off of his friend’s forehead.
“You have an appeal.”
“What exactly do you like about my features?”
“Well,” Eadowen said. “We just learned about facial symmetry in psychology … your face is incredibly even.”
“And body symmetry too. My body is even too, isn’t it?” Stroking Eadowen’s chest, Taban attempted to give him a deeper kiss, but Eadowen declined to open his mouth. I can’t make you cooperate, if you don’t cooperate. “Come on, gimme a real kiss,” Taban tried.
Eadowen pushed Taban away and held him at arm’s length by his shoulders. Taban froze. His friend’s default expression had changed to a penetrating stare. The candlelight played around his hazel iris which was almost completely eclipsed by his pupils. As Eadowen straightened his broad shoulders, his flushed lips parted. Taban couldn’t pinpoint what had changed about his friend, but suddenly he was both intimidated and captivated.
“Are you using me to experiment?” Eadowen asked.
“Yes,” Taban replied. But not in the way you think, he added to himself.
“And you really want to osculate?” Eadowen let his voice deepen to his natural baritone.
“Duh.” Taban nodded as he puzzled over his friend’s metamorphosis. The eerily alluring Eadowen, seemed to deliberate. Then he tilted Taban’s head back and fulfilled the request. For a moment, Taban lost himself in a rush of pleasure. Eadowen was such a fluid kisser that he struggled to remind himself that he had a goal. They caressed one another for a few minutes. Undoing the strap on his Ogham, Taban let it fall on the bed, and reached for the latch on Eadowen’s arm. The devices contained the owner’s medical history and could quickly indicate if a potential partner had not been checked. Taban started to feel queasy. The canoodling was great, but Eadowen’s excellent body didn’t appeal to him. It was inconvenient that the peer who didn’t concede to his wishes and served as a ‘take that’ to his father was not his type.
Eadowen pulled away abruptly and refastened his Ogham. To Taban’s relief Eadowen had almost returned to his mild presentation. “Okay, we’re done,” Eadowen said.
Too focused to interpret what his friend said, Taban ran his fingers through his own conditioned hair, and slipped his hand under Eadowen’s waistband.
“Ah! Let go.” Eadowen grabbed his wrist. “Stop.”
“But you’re enjoying it. I can feel your—Ow!” Taban felt searing pain on the back of his neck. Reaching behind his head, he touched a stream of hot wax cooling on his flesh. Eadowen returned the large candle, still burning, to his windowsill. The musty scent of singed hair irritated Taban’s nose.
“You groped me—my body reacted. That doesn’t mean I like it. If you touch me one more time, I’ll report it as sexual harassment.”
“Uh …” Taban retreated to the middle of the bed.
“You’d better not have ever treated anyone else like that. No one should ever have to refuse more than once. I thought you were better than that.” Eadowen emphasized every ‘r’ and dropped his ‘g’s as he continued to admonish Taban. “To top it all off, I can tell you’re uncomfortable. You were trying to get me to do something you wouldn’t feel good about. Why on Earth do you think I’d find that acceptable?”
“Geez, I’m sorry. I thought you’d like it!” Taban said desperately trying to appease him. “You said I’m attractive and you’re pansexual,
right?”
“That’s not how it works. I have the potential to fall for anyone. How can you not understand that?” He stared at Taban in disbelief. “Why are you pouting?”
You messed up my experiment. This is why people use rats, Taban thought. “I’m sorry. No one’s ever rejected me, so I’ve never pushed before. I won’t do it again. But … why did you kiss me like that?” He asked cautiously.
“I was still trying to figure out what was going on. You’re a very convincing actor.”
“What makes me a good actor?”
“Not sure.” Eadowen motioned for Taban to move to his own bed.
He obeyed. Sitting across from his roommate, Taban pondered acting. “Try to tell a lie.”
“How do you know I haven’t?” Eadowen flashed his usual pursed lip smile. The skin around Eadowen’s eyes wrinkled, which was usually a sign of sincere happiness. However, on reflection, Eadowen used that smile for almost every situation, including situations where he wasn’t happy. If he could consciously control his face that would partially explain why he could tell when Taban lied. It would also support my ability to deceive anyone I want, Taban concluded.
“Control of micro-facial expressions …” Taban noted under his breath.
“Pardon?”
“Just thinking aloud.” Since Eadowen had calmed down, Taban decided to test his hypothesis. “I’d really appreciate it if you’d tell me how you came to be in a wheelchair?”
“I’d rather not discuss it.”
“If you aren’t into me, why were you willing to room with me the last three years?”
“And risk unleashing you on someone else?” Eadowen let the candle flame lick his fingers. “I applied here after I met you at the recruitment fair because you remind me of the person who probably donated his Y chromosome to me.”
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