by M. A. Hinkle
But, as usual, wrong choice. “Hey, Felix.”
He stopped short automatically, but his expression of polite interest shifted to one of vague terror, like I was a lion at the watering hole and he was a chubby zebra. “Uh—”
“Did you make a friend without telling us, Felix?” Zach put a hand on the small of Felix’s back, frowning at me. I couldn’t blame him. If we were cast in a teen movie, I’d be the kid in detention, and they’d be at the top of the honor roll.
Alex scowled. “Don’t even joke. We are not going back to a duo.”
“I’m not trying to poach him. I just wanna talk for a second.” The twins continued to frown at me. “Alone?” They exchanged a glance that was probably mysterious and unreadable to someone who didn’t also have a twin. “You want my backpack as collateral?”
Zach gave Felix a gentle push. “Go on. We’ll meet you back by our lockers. I forgot my geometry book anyway.” He linked arms with his brother, and they walked off around the corner.
Felix watched them go, chewing on his lower lip. Then he set his shoulders. “So…what did you want to talk about?”
He was so friendly I wanted to puke in my backpack. “Listen. I wanted to apologize. I was a jerk earlier. And I’m trying to be less of one, so…” I was attempting to be nice, but Felix reacted as though a portal to hell had opened behind me and he was afraid to blink in case one of the demons noticed him. “Would you quit looking at me? Morgan made me say it, okay?” I was lying, and blatantly so, but it made him relax.
“Oh.” He fidgeted. “Can I ask you a question about him?”
“You can do anything you want, and I can refuse to answer. Again. Free country with caveats.”
Felix didn’t seem bothered. “Is he that way with everyone?”
I didn’t have to ask what he meant. “Yes, so don’t take it personally. He thinks you’re fine.”
His eyes lit up, as if I’d said Morgan was wildly in love with him. But all he said was, “Oh, okay, cool.”
“You’re not hard to please, are you?” Still not nice, but not mean, either.
Felix went red but didn’t say anything.
“Sheesh, don’t have a heart attack on me. Morgan’s the one who went to CPR class.” I tossed my hair over my shoulder. “Go ahead, carry on with your ordinary life. We can pretend this never happened.”
“So…you’re not mad at me?”
Literally everything he said to me made no sense. “No…? You thought it was me angry?”
“Oh, good. I thought—” He stopped, glancing away in an attempt to hide his embarrassment, but he turned so red I knew who to call on a foggy Christmas Eve.
Okay, I decided to fuck with him. Sue me. “What, maybe you should be nice to me because you have a crush on my brother?”
“No, I—” He slumped his shoulders. “Why can’t I ever just lie?” This question was directed at himself, but it still made me chuckle.
“I’ve met a lot of weirdos in this place, but you take the cake.”
Felix put his chin in the air. “I take that as a compliment.”
“It wasn’t an insult. You weren’t kidding about the conflict thing, were you?” I drummed my heel on the wall. An idea was forming in my mind, something that would seem good on paper so I could get everyone off my back. Every now and then, I wished I was the kind of person who could think about ideas before letting them free to wreak havoc, but then this conversation wouldn’t be happening. Basically, every closed door led to a window, even if you had to punch it out yourself.
Felix shook his head. “I really wasn’t. I couldn’t even make it all the way through Daredevil on Netflix—I had to turn it off when his best friend yelled at him, even though he deserved it.”
“There are better things to watch anyway.” I pushed my hair back off my forehead, and then, as usual, my mouth kept moving without my brain’s input. “The way I see it, we have complementary problems.”
“Uh—what problems?”
By his tone, I knew he’d guessed what I meant, but he didn’t want to admit it. “Your problem where you have a thing for my brother, and my problem where my brother is pissed at me.”
“I don’t—” I raised my eyebrows at him, and Felix covered his face with his hands. “Don’t look at me! This is really confusing for me, okay? I’ve never—” He parted his fingers so I could see his eyes and dropped his voice to a whisper. Or, well, a whisper for him. “I’ve never had a crush on anyone before, okay? Never. And then he—” Somehow his blush got darker.
“All the more reason you need my help, because Morgan has never been interested in anyone either.” I didn’t bother keeping my voice down. “In case you haven’t noticed, he’s no Casanova. I’ve seen him run away from someone who tried to pass him a love note. Boys, girls, people who transcend the binary, doesn’t matter.”
“Really?” I made an agreeing noise, and Felix lowered his hands. “But…he’s so—”
“Perfect in every way?”
Felix’s silence made it clear he agreed.
“Every superhero has a weakness. In his case, it happens to be ordinary human interaction, which is why you need my help.”
Felix studied me, not as though he thought I was bullshitting him. “What about you, though? I don’t get what you want.”
He was considering it, which was the weirdest part. Maybe my unstoppable force had met its immovable object. Although, what a ridiculous physics problem, even for this school. “I know there’s a bunch of weird rumors going around about why we left our last school. The actual answer is simple. I did something dumb and got kicked out, and Morgan came with me instead of staying at the school where he was basically a god among men. And now—” I paused for a second because…
Well, it hurt to admit this part. Hopefully, my expression wouldn’t give me away. “Now he’s mad at me, but he won’t admit it, so we’re doing this weird dance where I try to be less of a jerk and he pretends I’m making progress, even though I’m not.”
Felix wrinkled his nose. “You do know I’m not popular, right? There’s a reason I don’t have anyone else to sit with in study hall. Nobody hates me, but I’m weird and loud and have no impulse control.”
“I’ve done popular, and it’s bullshit. I want to figure out how to be the kind of person who doesn’t piss off every single person he talks to. At least enough to fake it.”
I expected Felix would have to think it over, but he shrugged. “Sure, okay. But—I’m not doing it because I want to get close to your brother! I have no idea of how any of it works, and I don’t think I want to.” He hunched up his shoulders. “It’d be nice to have a conversation with him, though…”
“We’ll work on it, kid. Come on. If you don’t know what to do and Morgan doesn’t know what to do, then there’s only one solution.”
“What is it?” Felix asked, though he followed me close behind.
“Exposure therapy.”
Felix’s brow furrowed, though he didn’t object. I should have felt bad about how easy this was, but I made it a point to never feel bad about anything.
I went up to Morgan’s practice rooms and knocked twice loudly, then once softly—to signal to Morgan it was me and not some evil monster come to suck out his brains. When the handle clicked, I grabbed Felix’s shoulder, shoved him through, and pushed it shut. I heard Felix yelp, and then silence when the door closed and the soundproofing kicked in.
I leaned against the door so they couldn’t open it, pushing my sleeve up so I could watch a minute tick by on my watch. Then I stepped away from the door. Felix stumbled out, though I wasn’t sure if he’d been trying to get it open or if he was simply clumsy.
“What was that about?” Morgan was dazed, like he’d stepped out of a fallout shelter expecting to see 1950s America.
I smiled. “You were right. He is nice. And look, you spent some more time alone together and neither of you died.”
“I am so confused,” said Felix to no one in partic
ular. Morgan glanced at him, though. I thought Felix couldn’t get any redder, but I was wrong. “I—I have to go find the triplets minus one. I’ll see you later.” He didn’t quite run down the hallway, but it was a fine difference.
“Are you picking on him again?” Morgan said in a hissed whisper. “What did I just say?”
“Actually, I turned over a new leaf. You can ask him about it if you want.” I put a hand on Morgan’s shoulder. “So. Did you get some good practice in?”
“No thanks to you,” Morgan said, but he was still too out of it to be upset. He glanced the way Felix had gone. “You really weren’t mean to him?” It was only partially a question.
“He’s still alive, isn’t he?”
Morgan adjusted his messenger bag strap, still frowning after Felix. “I know you’re telling the truth, but I feel concerned all the same.”
“I’m trying to do better. Look at me.” I spread my hands. “Can you not see I am a tree full of new leaves, all the better for turning them over?”
Morgan’s frown deepened, but he relaxed once he studied me. “It’s not nice to be suspicious of you when you’re honestly trying, but. Well.”
“You can say I’m an asshole, you know.”
Morgan shook his head. “No, it’s… I’m not used to you smiling.”
I realized I was smiling, although I’ve been told when I honestly smile, I look like I’m auditioning for the Joker. The Jared Leto version. “Again. New leaves.”
Morgan sighed, although I think he was exhausted from a long day of mingling, not upset with me for being a shit. “Well. We’ll see how long spring lasts.”
Act Two: Exit, Pursued by Your Feelings
DURING STUDY HALL the next day, I retreated to my dust bunny kingdom in the back of the stacks. I heard no screams from the study tables, so I assumed Felix and Morgan managed to sit together without trying to eat the other out of terror.
Right before the final bell rang, a pair of battered Converse, doodled all over in White-Out and highlighters, appeared in my field of view. I raised my eyebrows.
Felix put his hands on his hips. I think he was trying to seem stern, but he was about as intimidating as a dog wearing snow booties. “I assumed, since you went to all the trouble, that you were going to do something.”
“I am doing something.” I kept my voice mild as I tucked away my books. “I gave you nice uninterrupted time with my brother, didn’t I? I’m sure you had a delightful afternoon together.”
“Not the point,” said Felix, although he appeared more confused than anything. “If you want to make up with your brother, then don’t you think you should. I dunno. Talk to him?”
“I am talking to him. When we’re at home, and his panic brain isn’t going off because there’s other people around.” This was true, counting pass the salt.
Felix frowned.
I got to my feet. “Look, next week he starts practicing his solo during this hour anyway, so you might as well get in all the sweet, sweet socialization while you can. After this, you’re going to have to corner him somewhere.”
“Well, we have orchestra together,” said Felix, tugging on one of his curls. “I just figured…”
“Listen, the more hands off I am about this, the better it will work out. We can talk shop next week if you want.”
“I guess that makes sense.”
He didn’t sound convinced, but I didn’t pay him much mind. I wanted to get home, where I assumed I’d be free to relax.
I ASSUMED WRONG. On an ordinary day, Trevor would have been on campus. His classes started at four, and he headed to school around noon so he could spend time doing research or virgin sacrifices or whatever got you tenure.
But there he was, sitting at the dining table in the kitchen, wearing his reading glasses and everything. He had a book, though not some ancient tome of Welsh history—no, it was his English 101 textbook, marked up with Post-it notes. (Trevor would never write on a book.)
I glanced over at Morgan. He couldn’t fake fright, so he hadn’t known Trevor was going to be there either.
Well. He wasn’t going to talk, and Trevor hadn’t noticed when we walked in. I considered skipping dinner, but leaving Morgan to fend for himself with our dad would not help.
So I sat, pretending this was an ordinary day and family dinners were not a ritual we only enacted on holidays and Mom’s birthday.
Trevor snapped the book shut and took off his reading glasses. I wasn’t sure if it was a bad sign. He always seemed dramatic, like he’d recently stepped in from wandering the moor. “Good evening, boys.” Boys. As if we were orphan foundlings he’d left for the servants to raise.
“Good evening, Trevor. What are you doing here? Isn’t there urgent business in the thirteenth century?”
Trevor ignored the gibe because our cook came out of the kitchen with supper. Once the plates were set, Trevor responded. “I only had a single class scheduled for this evening. I decided to set it aside as a research period for the next few weeks, so the students have dedicated time to spend in the library as they begin their projects. It will allow me to monitor your progress.”
I glared at my salad. Which wasn’t fair to the salad, because it was delicious. But stuffing my face meant I couldn’t say anything.
And Morgan didn’t seem to be panicking. He was picking at his food, but he always did. Sensible caution, considering how often he ended his evenings throwing everything up.
We ate the salads in silence. I almost thought Trevor’s idea of monitoring us was sitting silently in the same room more often than special occasions.
But when Trevor finished, he set aside his fork and looked at Morgan. “So. Tell me how your first few days have gone.” He asked such questions at each family dinner, always as though he was reading from a script for the first time.
Morgan rearranged his salad for the fifth time. “It’s been okay. I do well there. I’m working on my new solo for the ensemble at the end of the year, and they have all sorts of other activities.”
“Such as?”
Morgan hesitated. “Well, today someone told me they’re doing auditions for a production of Midsummer Night’s Dream.”
I, fool that I was, did not find anything strange there. You could have told me someone was writing a stage play of Infinite Jest, and I would only wonder how they had time to read the book between their other extracurriculars.
“Mm,” said Trevor, leaning back. “A good choice for children your age. All the players have fairly equal parts, as opposed to Romeo and Juliet or a different romance.”
I bristled at his use of children, but thankfully, Rose came out with more food. Her cooking was literally the only thing protecting me during dinners with Dad.
“Are you planning on auditioning?” Trevor asked, as though Morgan wouldn’t burst into flames at the thought of being onstage. “It would be a good experience for you.”
“Uh—” Morgan glanced at me.
Well, I couldn’t say no to a pinch hit when he needed me, and only one answer would satisfy Trevor. “We both are. We’ve been looking for a way to make new friends, and a lot of people are trying out.” This was a total lie. If I racked my brains, I maybe remembered seeing posters. Maybe. And friends? In what universe, exactly?
I’d never tried acting before, so I was probably shit at it, and the idea of Morgan getting anything out of his mouth on stage was laughable at best. Not a ha-ha funny way, a “what a shame” way. The same skills he used to stand up in front of a crowd with a violin should have translated, but without his instrument, he locked up.
“Well. It is an excellent way to socialize. I’m glad.” Only Trevor could make Morgan’s biggest step forward more boring than the morning news.
WHEN WE FINISHED dinner, I pretty much ran upstairs. I wanted to put my headphones on and murder things online, but, as usual, my mouth worked before my brain. “A play? Where the hell did you get this idea?”
Morgan flopped on his bed, staring at
the ceiling. “Felix mentioned it. Why weren’t you sitting with us today?”
“Excuse me, sir, I have a kingdom to maintain. The dust mites are unionizing. This is a crucial period.”
Morgan frowned delicately, like we were at a dinner party and he’d had a bad piece of caviar toast. If only I were exaggerating, but I’ve seen him make that face in that exact situation. “I was being serious.”
I considered broaching the subject of Felix’s crush on him. Morgan wasn’t stupid about people. Scared of them, yes, but enough people had fallen all over themselves for him in our seventeen years. He was familiar with the signs. Only I’d say the wrong thing, and we’d fight.
Anyway, if Felix sneaked up on him for long enough, Morgan would collapse at his feet, and they’d fall in love and it’d be great. And maybe I could invest in venture capital and it’d all work out well for the contract workers and the environment.
“Felix is as scary as a kitten with a sticky-up tail,” I said at last.
“I know.” His tone made it clear it was intellectual understanding, not emotional. “But he word vomits at me, and I never know what part of it to respond to. And then he talks some more when I don’t answer. I’m used to it, but I still feel bad. At least when you’re there—” He broke off.
“You present a pleasant foil to my air of nastiness?” I grinned. “Aw, you missed me. I’m touched.”
Morgan pushed himself up on his elbows. “You’re putting words in my mouth, and you know it. I guess—” He huffed. “Well, it doesn’t sound any better, but he’s scared of you, so he talks less, and then I can figure out what to say. I found out about the play because he said he was auditioning, and he thought I should too, only then he started talking about how his mom was an English professor, but she passed away two weeks ago. When he stopped talking, I had no idea what to say, and not for the usual reasons.”
“That sounds about right.” I folded my arms. “So about this play. We’re going to not and say we did, right?”
Morgan blinked. Lying had clearly never occurred to him.
“Oh, come on. This is going to be a disaster, and you know it.” Morgan still didn’t answer, and I cocked my head. “Wait, were you…thinking about it?”
