Unnatural

by Michael Griffo

  Before Ronan answered he stood up, almost as if he were backing away from her. “Is that any way to answer a question?” Michael was confused. Ronan’s voice was confrontational, harsh, and yet his body language was hesitant, uneasy.

  Brania’s body language was anything but. Smiling, quite seductively, she rolled over onto her back with her knees bent so her skirt fell and covered only a few inches of her thigh. It was funny, Michael thought, millions of guys, teenaged and several years older, would kill to have a girl as beautiful as Brania lounge on their bed, half exposed, but he just wanted her to leave so he could be alone with Ronan. He was not going to get his wish.

  Brania closed her eyes and moved her hands fluidly in the air as if following the current of some unheard music. Her slim, manicured hands floated and curled to the silent rhythm as her knees rubbed together softly. What was she doing? And why was she doing it in his bed? Michael thought, “Um, Brania?”

  “Sshh,” she replied softly, not opening her eyes and holding up her index finger as if that gesture alone would stifle any further queries. And it did. Michael remained silent and watched her as she listened to her imaginary music. He didn’t feel any longing whatsoever to touch her, but she was absolutely compelling to watch. He glanced over at Ronan to try and get a sense of what he thought of the whole scene, but Ronan was acting as if Michael weren’t even in the room. He was standing in the corner, his back against the wall, eyes riveted on this strange girl. And there was something about the way Ronan looked at her that frightened him. His teeth were clenched, his brow furrowed, and Michael felt the same rush of sudden fear as he had sitting across from Nakano at the lunchroom table. He couldn’t explain it then and he couldn’t explain it now. The two boys looked nothing alike, the situations were completely different, but both times Michael was consumed with the same irrational feeling. And once again the feeling ended as quickly as it arose.

  “Song’s over,” she announced, sitting back up and smiling at them both. “Now, did someone ask me a question?”

  It was apparent by the way Ronan still looked that he wasn’t going to be able to speak, so Michael spoke for them. “We were, um, just wondering why you’re here?”

  She ran a hand through her luxuriant hair, making it bounce a little. “I had such a wonderful time with you at dinner, I just wanted to say hi. How do you like it here at Archangel, Michael?” She reached out and a few of her sharp, red-painted fingernails touched Michael’s arm, scraping his skin. He didn’t mean to react so abruptly, but he did, standing up and crossing his arms across his chest.

  Maintain some control, Michael. This girl is teasing you, trying to get the upper hand; it’s what girls do. Michael uncrossed his arms and placed them on his hips, trying to adopt a more relaxed pose, but he felt and knew he looked just as uncomfortable. “We kind of had this conversation the other night at my father’s hotel?”

  Now Brania repositioned herself and sat cross-legged on Michael’s bed as if she were about to practice yoga. Did she ever sit still? Michael couldn’t believe this girl who was behaving so oddly was the same well-mannered guest at his father’s hotel. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think it was her evil twin or something. “Michael, you know as well as I do that what took place in your father’s hotel room was polite talk designed to put your father at ease, to make him feel relieved that he’d made the right decision to bring you halfway across the world to a place you no longer remembered, before your mother’s body was even cold in the earth. So I’d like to know the truth: Are you enjoying your life here at Archangel Academy?”

  Michael didn’t feel a wave of fear when he looked at this girl, but now, stripped of her manners and showing her true personality, he didn’t like her. No matter how beautiful she might look on the outside, Michael found her to be ugly. “I told my father the truth,” Michael said. “I love being here. Now, if that’s all you came to ask, I think you should go.”

  His words didn’t faze Brania one bit; if anything, they amused her. She leaned back on her elbows and laughed. “Oh, don’t get all excited. I know I interrupted a little tête-à-tête between the two of you, but there’s time for that later,” Brania said. “Ronan here has all the time in the world. Don’t you, Ronan?”

  Ronan moved to stand next to Michael. He didn’t touch him, but just having him closer made Michael feel better. It was as if they were presenting a united front against this intruder. Ronan also didn’t answer Brania’s question, but rather stated another fact about her. “Brania has always been inappropriate, ever since we were children.”

  Propelled by a memory, Brania jumped off the bed, stood in front of both boys, and clasped their hands. So much for keeping the intruder at bay. “Oh, remember Nanny Long?” Brania exclaimed. “She was quite pretty but had the most horrid teeth, even by British standards, and Daddy arranged for her to be a mail order bride of sorts. So this academic from Edinburgh comes to dinner presumably to whisk Nanny Long off to get married. But all throughout dinner and even dessert afterward, she was so dour that I finally demanded that she smile. The academic, whatever his name was, agreed with me, so finally Nanny Long did, and before tea was served, the academic was on his way back to Scotland, and Nanny Long was jilted before she ever took one step toward the altar.” Finished with her presentation, Brania sat back down. “Daddy was so angry with me! But he got over it.”

  How could she be so malicious? “Whatever happened to your nanny?” Michael had to ask.

  Without a hint of sadness, Brania explained, “Oh, she died the following year. So you see, the marriage would have been a waste of time.” Smiling, she turned to Ronan. “I miss those days, Ronan; we had such fun.”

  Ronan wasn’t smiling. The way Michael saw it, he was amazed that he was still breathing. He really looked as if he had been holding his breath ever since Brania burst into the room. “I don’t understand, Brania,” Michael said. “How did you know where to find me? How did you even get onto campus?” He then had an absolutely horrific thought. “You don’t go to St. Anne’s, do you?”

  “You’re so inquisitive,” Brania said. “I like that.” She got up and started to walk around the room, her arms clasped behind her as if she were inspecting for cleanliness. “No, I don’t attend St. Anne’s; I have private tutors.” Even though Michael had already decided Brania wasn’t the type of girl he’d want to be friends with, it was hard not to appreciate her physical attributes. Especially in her current outfit. Tight-fitting emerald green V-neck sweater, black miniskirt, and black knee-high socks. To finish off the look, she was wearing patent leather Mary Janes with three-inch heels. It was as if the classic beauty he had dinner with had a sexed-up makeover. What was happening? He actually was becoming distracted by her looks, and then to illustrate his point, he suddenly realized she was still talking.

  “But my father owns this land that the academy calls home, so I can pretty much come and go as I please and, you know, get whatever information I want. So I called up Hawksbry and asked what dorm you’re staying in and Alistair told me St. Peter’s.” When she finished walking, she wound up right next to Michael. “And here I am.”

  The same odd fear crept up Michael’s back. What was wrong with him? This was a girl, yes, a possibly crazy girl, but hardly dangerous. If that was true, then why was Ronan staring at her as if she were going to pull out a butcher knife from under her skirt? Michael was starting to feel caged; the room was large, but it definitely couldn’t hold the three of them much longer. Brania was thinking the same thing. “Let’s go for a walk.”

  Outside, Michael breathed a bit easier. Maybe it was because the September air felt so cool and refreshing or because the moonlight created just enough light to keep the sky a deep shade of blue instead of an impenetrable black. Michael couldn’t tell; he just took a moment to look up and gaze at the stars flickering above, and even though he and Ronan were walking with Brania between them, he knew the stars were giving the two of them their blessings. To his amazement, Mi
chael wasn’t as annoyed as he’d thought he’d be having to share the night with Brania because he knew he and Ronan would spend so many nights walking together underneath this star-filled sky. Once, of course, they got rid of this girl.

  “Have you met Ronan’s mother yet, Michael?”

  “No, but, um, I hope to,” Michael said cautiously. “Soon.”

  “Well, prepare yourself,” Brania replied. “She’s a mother who’s not necessarily … motherly.”

  Yes, Michael was surprised by Brania’s rude comment, but he was even more surprised by Ronan’s silence; he didn’t say anything in his mother’s defense. “And just pray that Ronan doesn’t take after his mother,” Brania continued. “Edwige has a history of running through men, you know.”

  This time, Ronan did defend his mother. “Brania’s still angry because my mother dumped her father after we all lived together for a year.”

  “You lived together?” Michael asked.

  Brania looked thoroughly annoyed. “Didn’t you hear me speak of Nanny Long? She was nanny to both Ronan and me.” She fiddled with the neckline of her sweater, running a finger underneath the material, down toward the cleft between her breasts. “Didn’t they teach you in Nebraska that it’s rude not to pay attention?”

  Michael ignored Brania’s criticism and her cleavage. He couldn’t get over the fact that Ronan and Brania were more than just childhood friends, they were practically siblings. First Ronan is half brothers with Ciaran; now he’s almost half siblings with Brania. She was right; the world is such a tiny place.

  “If she had only been honest with my father when you two moved in, and told him that she had no intention of claiming another husband,” Brania said, “his heart wouldn’t have been broken.” Somewhere in the distance an owl hooted, three times, breaking the awkward silence that followed Brania’s statement. Unfortunately, the owl remained silent following Brania’s next statement. “So I must be frank, Ronan. I don’t approve of you trying to lure Michael to your side of the sexual fence. I’m quite certain our friend here is undecided when it comes to choosing what gender he’d like to cuddle up with, and seeing that you, like your mother, have enough boys to play with, I think you should leave him for me.”

  Both Ronan and Michael stopped walking at the same time. Brania continued on for a few more steps until she realized she was walking alone and then turned to face the would-be paramours. “Did I say something untoward?”

  When Michael spoke, he wasn’t just responding to Brania’s outrageous comment, he was responding to his father, his grandpa, his mother, his classmates back at Two W, everyone who questioned who he was and whoever made him feel that who he was wasn’t adequate or normal and that he needed to be something that was more palatable for them. Perhaps it was because he knew that Ronan was by his side, figuratively and literally, that gave him the strength to speak his mind; perhaps it was because, ever since coming here to Double A, he had found a self-respect that he had long ago forgotten existed. It didn’t matter; the only thing that mattered was that he found the courage to give his words life.

  “I am not being lured anywhere, Brania, and for you to insinuate that I am means that you haven’t been paying attention to me. I’m gay. You may not like that, but frankly I don’t care. And this may hurt your feelings, but given the choice of spending time with Ronan or with you, I choose Ronan.” Michael took a quick breath and continued. “As far as you implying that Ronan is going to use me until somebody better shows up, well, that’s just your own jealousy talking and not the truth. In fact, as of tonight I’m Ronan’s boyfriend.”

  Once he heard that last sentence come out of his mouth, he prayed that he hadn’t made a fool of himself.

  Ronan looked at Michael at first with shock and then with pride. “Yes, he is.”

  This is all working out perfectly, Brania thought. These two fools don’t suspect a thing. Just keep playing the game, honey; remember you’re supposed to be dejected. “Well … I guess this shows me,” Brania said, feigning gloom and then spite. “Let me ask you. Does your father know all about this aspect of your life?”

  How interesting, Michael thought. Even the mention of my father doesn’t make me reconsider what I just said. “No, Brania, he doesn’t. I may not have the guts to tell my father just yet—I hardly know the man—but I will. And just so you know, if you have the urge to run and tell him, feel free. I won’t deny it.”

  Oh, sweet, stupid Michael, I couldn’t have said it better myself. “Well, bra to the vo,” Brania shouted, clapping her hands in applause. “Looks like Mikey’s got himself a man, and I am woman enough to step aside.” Brania shrugged her shoulders and smiled. “I hope you don’t hold it against me, Michael. I would really like for all of us to be friends.”

  There was something about Brania that reminded Michael of his mother. Nothing physical, nothing specific really; it was just her nature because she, like his mother, was quixotic, unpredictable. One minute Brania was writhing on his bed, then giddily sharing a childhood memory, then making bitchy comments, and now acting as if they were on the threshold of becoming best friends. His head was spinning; he couldn’t keep up with her mood swings. However, he did know for certain that he didn’t want to be her friend. Luckily, reinforcements had just arrived and he was spared having to respond to her request.

  “Penry!” Michael shouted. He was thrilled to see his friend and just as unthrilled to see who he was walking with. “Nakano. Hi.” Michael literally bit his tongue because although he wanted to, for some reason he felt weird asking Nakano why he was wearing his sunglasses after sundown. Brania felt no such discomfort.

  “If you’re trying to create an air of mystery, Nakano, you’ve failed. The sunglasses make you look like an idiot.”

  Hopefully, these two knew each other, because even though Michael did not like Nakano, Brania’s statement was still embarrassing. By Nakano’s response Michael understood immediately that the two shared some sort of history. “Thanks, Bran. I have an eye infection, and sunglasses are a lot more attractive than oozing puss.”

  “Well said, Kano. It’s good to know the Double A is still churning out eloquent students,” Brania mocked.

  Penry didn’t care about Nakano’s contagion or Brania’s sarcasm; he had more important plans for the evening. “Mates, I’d love to stay and chat, really I would,” Penry said quickly, “but Imogene is waiting for me. She’s got a fifteen-minute choir break and we’re going to spend it snogging. Cheers!” They all laughed as they watched Penry race off toward St. Anne’s.

  “How queer,” Brania said. “A boy lusting after a girl.”

  “Shut up, Brania,” Nakano said. Only Ronan noticed Brania’s skin grow even paler, and he knew that later, when the two of them were alone, she would make Nakano regret his comment. Michael only noticed that, while he didn’t like Nakano, he had to admit that he did approve of how he handled Brania. He also approved of how simply, yet efficiently, Ronan handled their exit.

  “It’s getting late. We should be heading back,” Ronan announced. “Do you have a car or something, Brania?”

  “Such a gentleman. My driver is waiting for me at the front gate. And no, I don’t need an escort; I know my way around, and since Penry’s run off into the arms of his girlfriend, I think I’ll be quite safe.”

  Again an owl hooted to fill the silence. Michael imagined an owl perched somewhere on a branch, acting as a lookout whose sole purpose was to create sound when there was none. “Brania, no hard feelings?” Michael extended his hand to her and she, after only the slightest hesitation, took it. He didn’t want to be her friend, he didn’t want her to think that this cordial expression was anything more than manners, but he was feeling magnanimous. After all, he was leaving with his boyfriend. Which was of course the last bit of information Brania felt the need to publicize.

  “None at all, Michael,” Brania said. “You and your boyfriend have a lovely evening.” This time, there was no owl’s hoot to invade the silence
, only Nakano’s sharpened breathing. Large intake of breath through his nose, strong push outward. “Oh, sorry, Kano, haven’t you heard? Your ex has moved on with the pretty blond American.” So Brania seemed to know quite a bit about Ronan and Nakano. She might not be hiding a butcher knife, but she was definitely dangerous.

  Nakano still hadn’t controlled his breathing, but he was able to speak. “No, but that’s really great news.” By the tone of Nakano’s voice, it hardly sounded great; it sounded as if he had just announced the death of everyone on campus. But Michael figured that was to be expected. He had no idea what it felt like to lose a boyfriend; he hoped he never would. He wanted this to last with Ronan forever. Yes, yes, that’s a dumb comment, he knew that, but he didn’t care. He’d only had a boyfriend, his first, for about five minutes, so he wasn’t going to waste time thinking about how he would feel when the relationship was over. He just wanted to leave this place and go back to his dorm room with Ronan and pick up where they left off. Thankfully, Ronan wanted to do the same thing.

  “Thank you,” Ronan said to Nakano. “But like I said, we have to go.”

  Ronan shoved his hands into his pockets and turned, Michael followed, and the two of them walked back to his dorm, their bodies illuminated by the moonlight. Each wanted to hold the other’s hand, but it didn’t feel right. They knew they were being watched and they wanted to touch each other in public when they were ready, not because they felt they had to impress.

  Fingers splayed out at his side, nostrils flaring, Nakano moved toward Ronan and Michael, intent on following them, but never made it past the first step. “Don’t move,” Brania commanded, then added in an unyielding tone, “Come with me. I have something to show you.”