by Elin Peer
While Willow clinked her glass with her twin brother and got some of the whiskey down, Shelly inhaled the weed, and handed the inhaler back to Tristan.
“Do you feel it?” he asked with eagerness.
“I think I do.” She had the cutest expression on her pretty face. Her eyes and mouth widening in a silent “Whoa.”
“Let me try,” Willow said. Tristan was quick to give her the inhaler and watched with interest when Willow took a deep huff and coughed before speaking. “You and Archer used to smoke these sometimes at the school, didn’t you, Marco. I recognize the fragrance.”
“It was rare,” I said and took another sip of my beer.
“We had so much fun at that school.” Willow’s voice sounded wistful. “And that first year when you and Shelly were there was the best part.” She pointed to me and Shelly. “You were always bantering over something stupid and we kids would pick sides and be on team Marco or team Shelly.”
“That’s awful.” Shelly coughed.
“I was on team Marco, but there were a few times when you almost won me over.” Hunter nodded to Shelly. “One time you and Marco were discussing something and you told him in a polite way to go fuck himself.”
“I would never use such words!”
Hunter smiled. “It was in such a subtle way that he didn’t even pick up on it. But we boys did and we thought it was hilarious.”
“What didn’t I pick up on?” I asked with a frown.
“Shelly had you under pressure discussing something and when you ran out of arguments, you pulled the age card saying that you were right because you were many years older than her.” Hunter was grinning as he told the story. “Shelly didn’t buy it and challenged whether five years qualified as many, which of course you insisted it did, telling her that five years was a third of her age.” Hunter pointed to Shelly. “The best part was when you just looked at Marco all cool and collected and said in the driest voice, ‘Thank you for explaining the word many to me, it means a lot,’ and then you walked away.”
Willow grinned. “Hunter always tells that story.”
“Because it was hysterical. I just knew I wanted to grow up and be like you, Shelly.”
Shelly arched an eyebrow. “What, involuntarily funny and socially awkward?”
Willow raised her hand up in the air. “I was always on team Shelly and I loved it when you would tell jokes while teaching.”
“Oh, no, those jokes were awful,” Storm interjected.
Willow grinned. “What made them funny was that Shelly laughed at her own jokes. Don’t you remember how she would sometimes grunt like a pig and all us kids would laugh with her?”
“You mean at her,” Storm looked at Shelly and gave her an apologetic shrug. “I’m sorry, but you were a bit quirky.”
“I still am,” Shelly admitted without shame.
“Storm, don’t be an ass,” I muttered to him.
“I’m not, I’m just being honest. If I could remember one of her jokes you’d understand how lame they were.”
“My jokes are funny.” Shelly sat up a bit straighter, her eyes sparkling with humor. “I remember one I used when I taught you geometry. Wanna hear it?”
“Yes,” Willow said and was already laughing.
“Okay, what did the triangle say to the circle?”
“What?”
“‘You're pointless.’ And then the circle responded, ‘That's how I roll.’” The way Shelly’s shoulders were bobbing in infectious laughter had everyone laughing too. “Told you it’s still funny.”
“The only thing funny about that joke is that it’s you telling it,” Storm pointed out.
“You should take that as a compliment,” Willow told her in a bubbly voice.
Storm leaned in. “Speaking of compliments, did I tell you that Marco and I think that you are hot as hell?”
“I’m not,” Shelly objected and looked to me.
“Don’t be shy about it.” Storm grinned. “I can’t wait to see the other men when they see you at the reunion.”
Tapping my hand on my thigh, I asked a question and tried to make it sound casual. “Do you think they’re going to come on to her?”
If all went according to plan, I would be married to Louisa by then, but the thought that Shelly would be the target of other men’s attention didn’t sit well with me at all.
“If they drink enough liquid courage, they might.”
“Storm, that’s an awful thing to say,” Willow complained. “You make it sound like no sober man will want her.”
“Oh, they’ll want her all right. But just like the rest of us, they’ll be intimidated by Shelly’s brains.”
“I didn’t think Nmen got intimidated,” Shelly retorted.
“Aren’t you supposed to be fearless?” Willow asked with her brows raised and a smile on her face.
“There is a difference between being fearless and being foolish. Let’s be honest, you would never be interested in any of us, would you? I mean, we were your students and none of us can match your intelligence.”
Shelly didn’t get a chance to answer him before Storm pointed to Willow. “You, however, that’s a different story.”
“Why? Because I’m not as smart as Shelly?”
“You’re more approachable, that’s all.”
“I’m approachable,” Shelly insisted and looked to me. “Right?”
I almost choked on my beer. “Uh-huh.”
“See,” she said to Storm. “Marco isn’t intimidated by me.”
“That’s because Marco is older and wise enough to not be interested in a Motlander. He thinks you’re all too sensitive and crazy,” Storm explained, swinging his hand toward me. “With the wife I ended up with, I can’t blame you.”
“That’s not true, is it, Marco?” Willow asked with her green eyes wide. “Some of us are nice – you know that, don’t you?”
“Sure,” I muttered. “But I would never sign up for the Matching Program.”
“That’s a shame. Did you know that some of the girls had a secret crush on you back when we were in school?”
I scoffed. “Yeah, right.”
“It’s true. Archer was always the serious one but you were fun and you would play games with us kids. Sometimes you’d help us girls when the boys were being mean to us.”
I looked over at Hunter and Storm. “It’s the job of an Nman to be protective of females. They were just too young to understand that.”
“Oh, come on, we were just having a little fun; it was innocent,” Storm exclaimed.
Willow held out her hand to silence him. “You put spiders and frogs in our beds, and you kept turning the lights on and off to annoy us, not to mention that you blocked our door so we couldn’t get out. It was traumatic.”
“I don’t remember any of that,” Tristan said.
“That’s because you only came to the school after Solo became my boyfriend. He made sure no one messed with me.” Willow bit her lip and frowned before she returned to her rant. “But before that, Marco was our hero. One night you put your mattress on the floor outside our room and told the boys that you’d beat them up if they messed with us again.”
“It wasn’t a big deal,” I insisted.
Willow laughed and flashed her white teeth. “Marco, we loved you for it. Just like we loved you the time you helped us out at that survival camp in the forest where we were freezing and starving.”
“What about it?” Tristan asked. “What happened?”
“We couldn’t get a fire going and ended up sleeping together in one big bundle of sleeping bags to keep warm. We were miserable and a lot of the girls were crying because of the cold and the fear that wolves or bears would come and eat us. When we woke up the next morning someone had made a fire for us.” Willow looked at me. “That was you, wasn’t it?”
I smiled. “No comment.”
“I don’t believe you. There were footsteps and Nicki said she recognized your pattern.”
“
She must have been wrong.”
“Admit it, Marco. We were your girls and you didn’t want us to be freezing.”
I laughed. “I’ll admit that you girls were never as alone in that forest as you thought you were. But it wasn’t just me. Magni, Archer, Boulder, and I all patrolled the area and made sure you were safe.
“Did you make the fire?”
“I can’t remember.”
She grinned up at me. “You did, I know you did. You were always kind to us, Marco. It was a sad day when you left.”
“Thank you.” I raised my glass to Willow. “It’s nice to be appreciated.”
Willow took another sip of the whiskey and gave a grimace again. “We should go to a dance bar. I have a friend who lives around here; she knows a bar that’s safe.”
“We’re not going to a bar,” I said firmly. “It’s a pain going anywhere with Hunter to begin with and with you and Shelly, the chance of us men getting into fights is too big.”
“I’m with Marco,” Tristan exclaimed. “I don’t need to be caught in another bar fight.”
“But I want to dance.” Willow pouted and moved to the edge of her seat.
“I’ll dance with you,” Tristan offered and the two of them began discussing what music to put on.
“The Butterflies made this upbeat song called ‘Dance with your Eyes.’”
“The Butterflies?” I asked. “You mean those three guys we saw perform when we went on a field trip to the Motherlands?”
“Yes. They were so good. Remember?”
I laughed. “You can’t be serious.”
“I love their music.”
“I’ll find something better for you.” I put on The Fuckheads, one of our most famous bands, and hard tones began to play.
“Turn it off.” Willow shouted over the music. “I can’t dance to that.”
“Well then, you’ll have to find something else – I’m not playing the fucking Butterflies in my apartment. What if the neighbors heard it? They might think I’m suicidal and take it as a cry for help or something.”
“Fine, how about this number then?” Willow found something else that’d I never heard before.
“What is this?”
“It’s a remake of pre-war music. What do you think?”
My foot began bobbing up and down to the rhythm. “Not bad. I like the singer.”
Willow got up from the sofa, took Tristan’s hand, and began dancing. Storm and I stared at them because we’d never seen dancing like that.
My eyes went to Hunter, who I was sure would attack Tristan for dancing that close to his sister, but Hunter just took another sip of his whiskey.
“Is that how people dance in the Motherlands now?” I asked Shelly, who had the weed inhaler in her mouth again.
“Yes. Well, not many are as good as Willow, but she’s a professional dancer so it’s not fair to compare her to others.” She handed the weed to me. I took it because I could use the help in relaxing.
“We’re definitely not going to any bars,” I said to Hunter, knowing full well that any Nman who saw Willow move the way she did would lose his fucking mind.
Storm stood up, leaned his head back, and emptied his whiskey. “Time to dance, Shelly,” he said and she took his hand.
Shelly was laughing and telling him that she couldn’t dance, but he didn’t care and soon the two of them were imitating Willow and Tristan.
I hated it!
Storm was too close to Shelly. He whispered in her ear and they were laughing together. His darker skin contrasted with her creamy skin, which was too pale for summer and a testament to how much time she spent working inside. My eyes were burning holes in his head from my chair, but Storm didn’t seem to notice.
Hunter brought me a beer that I drank in two large gulps. I had promised Shelly that I wouldn’t be possessive, but it was easier said than done when she was swinging her hips and smiling at another man.
It didn’t get any better when Hunter asked Shelly to dance next. Being a star athlete playing for the best soccer team in the Northlands, he had enough money to buy her anything she wanted. At least, Hunter kept a bit more distance than Storm had. Still, I kept my eyes on them. According to Storm, his wife Gennie had been all over Hunter, and one would have to be blind not to acknowledge that Hunter was handsome. I kept looking at Shelly trying to read her. Was she attracted to Hunter?
Willow distracted my attention when she came and pulled me up from the chair. “Your turn,” she said with a wide smile and began dancing around me like a fairy, light on her feet. In comparison, I resembled a big oak, swaying a little from side to side.
“What’s wrong? You don’t like to dance?” Willow asked me and took my hands and moved closer.
My eyes were on Shelly, who was laughing with Hunter.
When Willow placed her hands around my waist and swayed from side to side with me, I stiffened and almost didn’t breathe. “It’s okay, Marco. Hunter isn’t going to be angry. This is dancing and my brother understands that.”
I still kept my hands away from her body. My heart was racing from the unusual closeness to Willow and the fear that anytime now someone would accuse me of overstepping my boundaries.
Willow was beautiful with her long brown hair and pretty features, but I wasn’t attracted to her the way I was to Shelly.
“I love your curls, Marco.”
When she raised her hands to feel my hair, I leaned away, trying to create more distance between us.
Willow pouted. “Why can’t I touch your curls?”
“I need something to drink,” I said and left her to dance with Hunter and Shelly.
Standing in my kitchen with a cold beer in my hand, I watched how Tristan and Storm joined the others and the five of them were dancing and laughing.
When Shelly flung her arms around Storm’s shoulders I squeezed my beer harder and counted to ten in my head. She didn’t look at me or invite me to dance with her. It was like there was nothing between us. None of the others had any idea that this past week, we’d had sex several times. I knew exactly what hid underneath Shelly’s white pants and purple shirt. How her breasts felt and tasted, and what sounds she made when I was inside her.
Storm spun her around and beamed at her with a charming smile. My knuckles turned white from squeezing my beer so hard.
“Shelly, can I talk to you?” I asked when they were done dancing and Storm was pressuring Willow and Shelly to drink more whiskey.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
My eyes bulged with silent urgency. “Nothing. I just want to show you something one of my students made. You’ll like it.”
She followed me down the hallway and when we got out of ears reach, I turned around confronting her. “Can you turn it down a bit?”
“Turn what down?”
“The weed and the drinking.” I wanted to say dancing but knew that was overstepping the line.
“Why? I’m having fun.” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re drinking, so why can’t I?”
“Because you’re not used to it, and it’s a bad idea.”
After a few seconds of silence, Shelly opened the door to my empty bedroom and pointed inside. “Do you see what I see, Marco?”
“What do you mean?”
“That’s a room full of all the people who think you should decide how I live my life.”
I frowned my forehead and she blinked her eyes, her pupils expanded from the weed.
“Do you get it?” She gave a small snicker. “You know, because it’s empty…”
“Yeah, I get it.” I pulled back from her. “I was trying to look out for you.”
“Aww, that’s sweet, but I’m an adult.” She was swaying slightly when she lifted her hand and counted on her fingers. “I’m a biologist, an engineer, a psychologist, and a real adult, Marco.”
“You told me several times.” I rolled my eyes and took a step toward the living room.
“That’s right. I can drink and take w
eed if I want, and I can have sex with whomever I want, because I’m a free woman.”
Her words made me stop and turn around. Keeping as cool as possible I stepped back into her personal space, grateful that the others were still listening to loud music.
“Did you get your period yet?”
“No.”
“As long as you’re sleeping with me, there will be no one else, do you understand?” My intensity made Shelly take a step back.
“You’re possessive,” she breathed.
“No.”
She blinked a few times. “Yes, you are.”
“I’m leaving for the tournament in four days. Do you think you can keep faithful for that long?” My tone was blameful, as if she’d done something wrong.
“Faithful would imply we were in a relationship,” Shelly pointed out and tilted her head, her beautiful brown eyes looking up at me.
My body was shaking with emotions that I didn’t want. Stepping even closer, I pressed my body against hers and spoke into her ear. “I accept that you don’t want to marry me, but either you’re with me exclusively until the tournament, or we won’t have sex again.”
Shelly didn’t kiss me or assure me she liked only me. She broke free from my hold and walked away from me, her back straight and her head high.
I already regretted giving her an ultimatum. It had been a mistake that had backfired. If I had magical powers, I would have made the others disappear so I could talk to her, but they were having a party and Storm pushed a glass of whiskey into Shelly’s hand, telling her he’d mixed it with a sweet soda to make it easier for her to drink. In a juvenile act of rebellion, Shelly looked straight at me when she forced down a large sip of whiskey.
In return I picked up my beer and emptied it, hoping that the alcohol would numb my desire for the headstrong, infuriating genius who would never find me more than entertaining.
“I still can’t believe how pretty you are now,” Storm complimented Shelly.
She chuckled. “It’s because of my CBC machine or what Tristan likes to call my Troll Transformer.”
“That’s right.” Tristan took over. “Every night Shelly has to hook up to this machine that files her claws and plucks out her beard so she can look like a princess.”
