Escapism (The Escapism Series) (8 page)

  “Maybe we can work out together sometime?” he proposed.

  Another rumble of thunder struck and I shivered. He reached for a fleece blanket and placed it over my shoulders. His hands softly touched my skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps.

  “Your skin is so cold,” he said as he rubbed the blanket over my shoulders.

  “Thanks.” I felt warmer by the second. To address his prior question, I answered, “Yes.”

  “Yes?”

  “To working out sometime.”

  “Excellent. Do you like running?”

  “Do you mean, like, marathons? Because I don’t do marathons—I find them very unpleasant. I jog but it’s completely circumstantial. Like, if I’m having a bad day or I need a boost, something like that,” I rambled, nervously.

  “Okay then,” he said, snickering, “I have an idea. Instead of working out, how about we just stick to movies.”

  “That all depends,” I said, warily.

  “On?” he raised his brow.

  “What kind of movies do you like?”

  “Uh, the kind of movies that you like?” he asked, submissively.

  “Yay!” I exclaimed. “We shall get along quite nicely then.”

  “What are we going to watch tonight?”

  I got up and checked the home entertainment center, placing some DVDs on the couch in front of him. “I’ve got to see if my DVD player has enough battery life.” I had not charged it for days, and stupid me left it running while I napped earlier.

  Nicholas examined each DVD cover, carefully forming two piles.

  “Oh crap. There’s just under half battery power remaining. That’s enough for a movie, if we’re lucky.”

  “There goes our movie marathon,” he groaned, playfully. “What else is there to do?”

  “What about cards? I think I have cards, somewhere around here,” I whispered.

  My heart jumped at the sound of lightning striking. I couldn’t send him back out there in the Armageddon-like storm.  “I should get you some blankets and linens for the spare room. You can’t go back out there in this weather.”

  “What’ll your parents think?”

  I held my hands out like a scale, weighing our options. “We have a guest room and it appears you are a guest. You qualify to stay in the guest room. It’s the hospitable thing to do.” I smiled as I got up from the couch.

  Nicholas nodded graciously. “I don’t require much really.”

  “Let me get the room ready for you. I’ll show you the way.” I turned my back to him, yet every inch of my body felt his presence.

  We climbed the wooden stairs and I skipped over the single creaky wooden step by habit as I did in high school when returning home past curfew. Nicholas followed suit, having caught on.

  I turned around and he winked at me. He was more observant than I gave him credit for.

  “If you need any toiletries, help yourself to whatever is in the bathroom. Towels are in the closet by the washroom.”

  I gave him a quick tour of the upper level before proceeding to make up his bed. I awkwardly shifted out of his way as he passed in front of me heading toward the bathroom. Partly germaphobic and a smidge OCD about certain household arrangements—nothing actually clinically diagnosed, just my own observation—I neatly made the bed up just like my mother.

  The sound of water through the pipes came to a halt by the washroom, signaling my cue to exit from the guest room. I gathered the wicker basket with the spare linens and supplies before returning to the hallway to put the excess back into the closet.

  Shortly after, Nicholas walked through the doorway with a towel wrapped around his waist. His upper body glistened, and I struggled to breathe.

  “Do you need something?” I gasped in a high pitch while busying myself with the contents of the hall closet.

  “My clothes,” he whispered, signaling to the clothes I had tucked away in the hall closet along with the linens.

  “Oh, right. Sorry. I don’t know how that happened,” I said, retrieving the garments, handing them back.

  “Thanks, Xenia,” he replied, smiling amiably.

  After he shut the guest room door, I managed to breathe again before retiring to my room to change. Feeling parched, I revisited the kitchen for some water.

  Nicholas reappeared in sweats and a white undershirt. His face looked flushed and warm from his shower. “Care for a nightcap? We could watch part of a movie until your laptop bails or better yet, read a classic,” he said, motioning toward Marla’s book. His lips curved up devilishly—seductively.

  “I’ll fix us some drinks,” I said, avoiding eye contact. Although I was thrilled that he did not want the night to end, I was still on edge. “

  “No, let me. In the meantime, you can select a movie,” he replied and I nodded, favorably.

  “So you know, I do read actual classics. I have a whole book shelf of them in my room if you’d care to see.” Just as the words came out of my mouth, I quickly recoiled, clearing my throat. “The drinks aren’t going to make themselves.”

  He heaved a sigh, amicably.

  He was in the kitchen for some time while I sat comfortably on the sofa. I ran my fingers through my hair scrunching the ends.  After I looked through the first stack of movies, Nicholas reappeared.

  He handed me a glass and sat beside me.

  “What should we toast to?” I asked, engrossed by his very presence.

  Nicholas deliberated, “Hmm…to rain?”

  “To rain,” I repeated, grinning sheepishly. I took a sip and nearly gagged. “Mmm,” I said, feigning delight. 

  He sipped and scowled, “Oh God, wow that’s strong.” 

  I wiped my tongue against my shirt. “It’s tart.  I’m guessing you used the red bottle?”

  “Yeah, I believe it was.”

  “That’s cherry juice—pure concentrate.”

  “Ah,” he said, nodding, “That explains it. Sorry.”

  “It’s alright. Nothing a little water can’t fix,” we laughed in unison.

  The rain came down harder and I shivered as the air around me excited my skin in an oddly familiar way. He placed his drink down while slowly edging closer to me, looking for any sign of discomfort in my body language.

  In the heat of the moment, my memories resurfaced of the night we first met. His façade was starting to wear thin and, although we neglected to bring it up, it was time we addressed what had happened at Landon’s party.

  “
Should
I know you?” I asked.

  He hesitated, studying me patiently as I leaned in closer to him.

  “I can help you remember,” he whispered, running the back of his fingers softly down the side of my cheek. His hand edged behind my neck, gently pulling me closer while his lips pressed against my neck, moving toward my jaw. I groaned as his lips gently parted mine.
Oh no. Not now
. What happened next was out of my control. I lost myself in a series of flashes, no longer in Nicholas’ warm embrace.

  I saw a huge plot of desolate land intermittently between rubbing my eyes—I was reliving a memory it seemed. I played with another child in a garden. A lady in a white uniform—a nurse—called me in.

  “Xenia! Back inside. It’s time for your nap, dear,” called Betsy, a short, thin young woman with red hair tied back in a braid. Her face was both familiar and pleasant as she waved me in from afar.

  “I don’t want to go inside. I want to play.” I stomped my feet hard on the ground, feeling the earth vibrate right back at me equally as aggressive.

  “Five more minutes and then you must,” she said, firmly.

  “Yes, nurse Betsy.” I turned around and my little companion had vanished. “Where’d he go?”

  “Who were you playing with Xenia?” she asked. Her face strained with worry.

  “Ten. But he’s gone now,” I said, sullenly.

  “Xenia, you shouldn’t fib. Let’s go inside,” she demanded. She led me through a big set of automatic doors that scanned us before entry. The interior was spacious and white as we weaved through a series of halls to a room filled with consecutively numbered beds. Above each bed were plasma screens and wires connected to metal looking helmets of sorts.

  I ran up to a girl directly adjacent to my bed, fast asleep. I placed my tiny hand on top of hers. nurse Betsy read her file and, without looking up, she asked, “Why are you giggling, Xenia?”

  “She said a bad word,” I whispered, staring at the girl’s screen attached to a box with wires and tubes connected to the metallic headpiece.

  Nurse Betsy asked curiously, “What did Nine say to you?”

  “She doesn’t like nurse Maggie very much,” I whispered.

  She humored me, whispering, “Oh, I see.”

  As I looked up at Nine’s screen, through the eyes of my child self, I felt my heart skip a beat. I saw myself sitting in the garden with her while she whispered in my ear. Nurse Betsy looked up and watched in awe, while writing things down rigorously.

  “Xenia,
come back here
! You need to take a nap,” she dropped her clipboard, gripping my shoulders and shaking me a little.

  I looked at Nurse Betsy and released Nine’s hand. I obeyed and traveled back, feeling and seeing the sparks of electricity as I shifted.

  “Where’s Ten? His bed is empty,” I asked.

  “Never mind him right now. It’s time for bed. Hop in,” she ordered. Her face appeared overwrought by an unknown threat.

  “Will he be back, Nurse Betsy?” I asked. The room felt hollow without him beside me.

  “No, honey. Lucas—
Ten
—is gone,” she replied.

  She tucked me in snuggly and placed the same metal band over my head. She walked toward the exit, turning around to strain a smile although her eyes were filled with worry.

  “He’s not gone,” I said, smiling while my eyes remained shut.

  Nurse Betsy stumbled on her way out, making a loud rattling sound. She watched in disbelief as Lucas sat in the middle of my screen, angrily picking at the grass in the garden.

  I gasped as I reopened my eyes, which ached from an icy breeze comparable to that of walking in the middle of a winter storm. Although my body acclimated, I could not shake the feeling of reliving a memory.

  Nicholas brushed a strand of hair from my face as I regained awareness of my surroundings. His presence placated my erratic breathing—I felt safe with him around. Things had been warm and normal just seconds earlier. I couldn’t catch a break. God!

  “Xenia, tell me. What did you see?”

  “I—I can’t be sure. It felt like a familiar place, but I’ve never seen it before,” I choked as the words came out of my mouth, “It was a dome.”

   Nicholas’ body language changed into an alarmed state as he waited for me to elaborate.

  “It’s
you
,” I whispered, “From the moment I’ve met you, things haven’t been right. These
visions
or
travels
—whatever you call them—aren’t normal.”

  Nicholas grimaced while moving closer to me.

  “I didn’t ask for this either. I wasn’t planning to stay very long and then I saw you…” his thoughts trailed off somewhere unfathomable. The color of his eyes intermixed entirely, forming a gray and black swirl in each iris. I could tell that he strained desperately to prevent the change as his eyes redefined into the distinct color—gray with black spokes converging in the middle of each pupil—that I had dreamt of each night.

  “No. It’s you, Xenia. You keep me here longer than I should be at times,” he countered.

  “What? Where do I keep you from?”

  “From the transitory world, Styx.”

  “Oh. I’ve been there recently.” This was adding credence to Kiran’s vivid tale of two worlds, the portal, and all other weird things. “Why do you need to be in Styx?”

  “Well, the part of you that dies, it’s restored to you in Styx—the portal between two worlds where our lost fragments cross.”

  “You’re
dead
?” I exclaimed.  “But you don’t look it.”

  “Half-dead, actually,” he replied, studying my reaction. “It’s not as bad as it sounds, trust me,” he said, although I wasn’t too convinced. “The strange thing is that I knew you were different when I first met you, but I couldn’t trace you Offline. It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “You’re telling me! First Kiran tells me I’m a Diplozoe, and now this! You’re one too?”

  “Yes,” Nicholas furrowed his eyebrows. “What exactly has Kiran been telling you?”

  “Oh, you know. The old story about the two worlds and Styx being the portal in between. Blah blah blah.”

  “Your parents didn’t tell you you’re a Diplozoe?”

  “No.” Either someone didn’t want me knowing or there was some other reason my parents concealed this from me—either way, I wasn’t ready to find out any time soon.

  “
Interesting.
Have you ever traveled as a child?”

  “I can’t recall. So, who are you? Besides a Diplozoe.”

  “Hmm. I am a man who was a boy, who met you along the way and felt like a part of me was drawn to you for reasons that I’m still trying to figure out.” Nicholas leaned forward, taking my hand into his. His hands were warm and big, making my own look small and docile.

  “So when we met, it wasn’t exactly a coincidence?”

  “I sought you out specifically and I didn’t quite know it then. I saw you and instantly knew you had something that belonged to me.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “I know this all sounds farfetched to you, but I am sure of one thing.” His eyes softened as he stroked the side of my cheek.

  “What’s that?”

  “I
like
you, Xenia.”

  “Oh, is that why we kissed earlier?” I sarcastically covered my mouth.

  Nicholas smiled as he kissed the back of my hand before placing my hand over his chest.

  “My body still functions, see? It’s just a part of me was lost.”

  I could feel his heart beating hard before I retracted my hand. I spun my watch around nervously, while he placed a hand over my wrist to stop the compulsion. That’s when it hit me—he liked me and I liked him.

  “What tiny wrists you have,” he said softly.

  “My wrists aren’t tiny,” I self-consciously retracted my hand.

  “Let me get another look.”

  He tickled me instead, attempting to regain his hold over me, while I hid my hands behind my back, laughing mercifully. We were out of breath from laughing and things seemed to pick up where they left off before my flash back.

  “Come here,” he said, softly.

  Hesitant at first, I edged closer and his awaiting arms wrapped around the small of my back. I breathed in the reminiscent cologne against his skin. I rested the side of my face against his, feeling his warm, soft skin gliding across my cheek before our lips grazed.  I kissed him impatiently. 

  “I like you too,” I said, mesmerized.

  “Good to know. I’d hate to think you kissed all your guy friends.”

  “Kiss me again,” I demanded playfully.

  He did just that, to my delight. I wrapped myself around every last inch of his body that I could hold onto as he carried me to my bedroom where he laid me down gently on my back.

  “Bedtime?” he asked, distancing himself.

  “No,” I uttered, pulling him closer. “Stay here a while.”   

  He recoiled hesitantly and, out of desperation, I wrapped my legs around his body, raising my hips closer to his. He groaned, relaxing on top of me ever so slightly. He moved his hand slowly up the side of my thigh to the round of my hip. He lingered at the edge of my shirt, softly running his fingers up and down, exciting my skin. He slipped his hand under my shirt, resting his hand on the angle of my ribs. I panted as he kissed the hollow of my neck softly before his lips parted mine.

  Thunder struck violently outside, making the whole house tremble in aftershock.

  “Did you hear that? I have a feeling we have company,” he asked, alarmed. He flinched, inspecting the room for things that were visible—and maybe even invisible to me.

  “I didn’t hear anything.” I listened carefully, attuned to the creaky house sounds. Nicholas moved toward the edge of the bed, away from me.

  “Did I do something wrong?” I asked, confused.

  “Not at all, Xenia.” Nicholas turned to face me. “You’re beautiful. It’s just that I didn’t come here for
this
.”

  “I see.” I felt humiliated. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you had to be here with me.” I sat up and crossed my arms.  There were too many jumbled, and indescribable emotions flowing through me—I was disarrayed.

  “You don’t understand just how much I
want
to be with you,” his jaw clenched shut. “But I need you right now as my Charon more than I do as my lover. I need you to find my missing fragment, Xenia,” he said, pleading for sympathy.

  I stood up in a huff, grabbing a hairbrush from my nightstand.

  “I think you should leave. Goodnight.”

  “Xenia!” Nicholas shouted after me as I stormed off to the bathroom.

  After a long hot shower, my hair felt silky to touch as the conditioner worked its magic. I put on a long T-shirt and tied my damp hair up into a bun. Overcome by successive yawns, I turned the lights off and retired to bed. Just as I fell asleep, I heard a light knock on my door. Slowly, I got up and shuffled toward the door.

  “What?” I snarled, annoyed.

  A wide-awake Nicholas stood by my door.

  “I just wanted to say a proper goodnight,” he leaned in, kissing my cheek softly. “Please don’t be mad. You shouldn’t go to bed angry.”

  “I’m not mad at you. I just…I don’t…” I muttered, lost in his smoldering eyes. Somehow, I was chosen to find his lost fragment, though I was afraid to ask the specifics surrounding the matter. “We have more serious things to take care of. I get it.”

  “Thanks for understanding. Night, Xenia,” he gently brushed the side of my arm before returning to the guest room.

  With every step toward my bed, I felt lighter and lighter—an increasingly familiar feeling. Before I knew it, there was a presence in my room. I froze while something crossed my periphery, trailing along my bedside.
Nicholas had felt a presence earlier.

  I gasped.

  “What’s wrong, Xenia?” he asked, sitting casually on my bed.

  “
Who are you
?” I asked, terrified by his eerie presence. “Why are you here?”