Escapism (The Escapism Series) (13 page)

  “You’ll see,” Kiran said.

  Inside, my parents were unwinding in the living room watching television.

  “Hey, Mom, Dad. This is Kiran from York.”

  “Oh. Hello,” she said, surprised. “I’m Chrysanthe.” My mother stood up to shake his outstretched hand, scrutinizing my uncharacteristic behavior. It was unlike me to pop in with guests.

  “Pleasure to meet you. What a lovely name. Chrysanthe,” he droned, holding her hand for longer than customary.

  My mother blushed like a foolish schoolgirl. My father responded quite well to Kiran’s charm. He was a pretty cool dad for the most part—not the strict type at all; if anything, my mother took the reins on that.

  “Marlon,” said my father, shaking his hand. “Kiran, you look a little mature to be a freshman,” he asked, skeptically.

  “You got me,” he flashed a grin.  “I’m actually a sophomore. I took a year off to travel throughout Europe.”

  “Is that so? Did you hear that, Chrysanthe? He’s a cultured young man. I too traveled upon graduating from law school. Tell me, did you visit Italy and France?”

  “I did, sir. The Sistine Chapel and the Louvre were extraordinary. I made them priorities on my list of places to explore.”

  “Good man,” Marlon replied, patting Kiran’s shoulder.

  Kiran examined a piece of art hung on the wall. “Chrysanthe, is that Salvador Dali’s Ghost of Vermeer of Delft?”

  “Yes. I’m impressed. Xenia didn’t tell me she had art enthusiasts for friends,” my mother smiled, excitedly.

  “Let me give you a tour, Kiran. It’s nice to have
someone
who appreciates art.”

  “Yes, I’d
love
a tour.” he winked at me, while my mother made off with him.

  “So, Xeni. Kiran seems like he’s got a good head on his shoulders.”

  “Yup, he’s a good kid,” I said, uncomfortably.

  “Do you like this boy?”

  “
Dad
. We only just met. He’s a friend at most.”

  “Okay, just asking,” he held up his hands, defensively. “He seems like a nice kid, that’s all. He’s welcome to come over for dinner anytime.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  I hugged my father before Kiran and my mother returned, conversing merrily.

  “I should be heading home. Thank you for the tour, Chrysanthe,” he hugged her cordially, and shook my father’s hand. “Marlon, it was a pleasure.”

  “Pleasure was ours, Kiran.”

  “Well, we’re going out for a while. Bye,” I ducked out as fast as possible. Kiran followed suit, waving good-bye. We got into his car and drove around the neighborhood.

  “You didn’t spend much time with my dad. Are you sure it was enough?”

  “Oh it was. I shook his hand and I knew instantly. He’s definitely not a Diplo.”

  “And my mother?”

  “She ain’t either—although, you Sanders women are delectable,” he said, playing with a lock of my hair. “Mmm-mmm.”

  “Then why did you go on the tour with her?”

  “I just wanted to see the house—your room.”

  I slapped his arm, as hard as I could.

  “Ouch. What’d you do that for? Sheesh, woman,” he huffed, while fixing his collar, “You know this can only mean one thing.”

  “You’re sleazy?”

  He rolled his eyes. “
No
—it’s not like I looked through your underwear drawer. It means you’re
adopted
.”

  “I see,” I replied. After a moment of reflection, I slapped his face.  

  “Not cool,” he shouted. “I didn’t peg you as the aggressive type. Don’t shoot the messenger.
God
,” he groaned, jutting his jaw.

  “You have some nerve. You come into my home, frolic around with my mother, and then have the audacity to lie to my face. Who are you?”

  “Relax. I can find your birth mother.”

  “How are you certain that I’m adopted? This is crazy, man.”

  “Trust me.
I know
. As a Diplo, you can feel the energy of others like you. It’s an inherent capability even through touch and smell.”

  “We have a particular scent?
Get out
,” I replied, sniffing my arm discretely.

  “Not us specifically, but the scent is apparent when we travel—a sweet celestial smell, kind of hard to describe, but a dead giveaway.”

  “Oh, I see,” I said, mildly embarrassed.

  “I’m sorry, Xenia. I didn’t mean to be so blunt. I thought you’d be happy to find out.”

  “I know you’re only trying to help…it’s just…I’m
adopted
. You have no idea how this feels.”
Who were my bio-parents? Why would they leave me?

  “What’d you know about hardship anyhow?” he scowled, continuing, “I’ve lost people close to me…you never even knew your parents.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” I whispered. There was a lot I didn’t know about Kiran’s life. By the expression on his face, it looked like he lost someone dear to him, not long ago.

  “I’ll drive you home,” he said, somberly.

  “No, thanks. I think I’ll go for a walk.”

  “If it means anything, I can let you know if I locate either of your bio ‘rents.”

  I cringed at the thought. He hugged me and I realized how selfish I was acting.

  “Kiran, thanks for all your help, but why are you helping me?”

  “What can I say? I guess I’m a sucker for lost chicks,” he sighed, continuing, “It’s nice to have someone to help.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss…was it a friend?”

  “My sister…she disappeared when she was six,” his jaw tightened, as did his grip on the steering wheel.

  “Strange. I thought you could trace other Diplos anywhere?”

  “For the most part, yes, but not when someone is dead in both worlds.”

  “I don’t want to impose, but how’d—” I hesitated saying the unfathomable words.

  “We don’t know. If she had died in one world and not the other, I could easily track her. We think she was kidnapped by the ESOM. They study our kind, and may have developed a shield of some sort.”

  “I’m
so sorry
, Kiran. I hope she returns one day.”

  “Thanks, Xenia,” he smiled, while I opened the car door. I thought of not only how my meek life was becoming complicated, but of those who had been suffering all around me day in and out.

  “Drive safe,” I said, getting out of his car. I needed a walk to clear my head.

  My parents’ cars were still parked out front as I approached my house.  I walked up the pebble path to the front door. By the looks of it, it seemed we were having a family dinner. Inside, I was instantly immersed in the smell of my father’s famous chili. I could hear my parents laughing in the kitchen. They were drinking red wine and my mother tossed a pepper at him. “You should make it spicier this time. Give it a zing. Ah, Xenia. You like spicy chili, right?”

  “Do I ever,” I said, mockingly.

  “Ladies, never tamper with a man’s recipe. It just leads to disaster,” he nudged me, while pouring a glass of red wine. The best part about turning nineteen was that I could finally drink—legally anyway.

  “Let’s toast to our lovely daughter in her first year of university,” she held up her glass in a proud toast, “To Xenia.”

  “To Xenia,” my father added.

  “Aw, thank you,” I smiled, sincerely, “Now, when will dinner be ready—I’m famished.”

  “Soon enough—if you make yourself handy. The salad needs to be prepared.”

  “Hey, no fair. Mom hasn’t lifted a finger,” I exclaimed.

  My father swiftly took my mother’s wine glass away. She loved watching my father cook—and that was the extent of her culinary efforts.

  “All right, I will set the table,” she said, sighing, “It’s tyranny, really.”

  “Way to go, team Sanders!” Marlon beamed.

  We ate together as a family, something we hadn’t done in quite a while.

  “I’m stuffed. Thanks for dinner.” I got up to head for my bedroom, sticking my parents with the cleaning.

  “Don’t worry about the dishes, darling. I’ll take care of them,” Chrysanthe shouted after me, mockingly.

  “Thanks, Ma,” I hollered, trotting off swiftly through the kitchen doorway.

  That night, I slept like a rock. Things felt like normal again—even if it was for a short while. I did not think or dream of Nicholas, surprisingly.

  The following morning, I awoke to the unpleasant ringing of my phone.

  “What?” I grumbled.

  “So, are you picking me up for school today or what?” Marla asked, lethargically.

  “What time is it?” I cried.  My alarm had yet to sound as it was only six o’clock in the morning.

  “I have a great idea,” she said.

  “God, Marla. When do you have class?”

  “We have class at eight. Remember when we used to go for our morning jogs?”

  “I want to stay in my nice warm bed.  It’s
way too early
.”

  “We used to go for early morning jogs,” she wined. 

  Correction. Marla ran track while I partook in the throwing events. However, I was still required to warm up with the team.

  “We did, but it was for track. We no longer have track.”

  “What about our health?”

  “Not today, Marla. I’m so exhausted. Maybe I’m coming down with something.”

  “I’ll be there in ten. You need to go for a jog. 
I can tell
.”

  She hung up, and I grumbled a slew of profanity under my breath before dropping the phone. I stretched as far as I physically could, yawning deeply. I stared at the ceiling thinking of absolutely nothing, while in another world, I could be doing something else entirely. Being blocked from the Offline world was not sitting well with me. 

  I slipped into a pair of sweats and a blue T-shirt right before Marla’s brisk series of knocks at my front door. I shuffled down the steps, putting on my runners. I let her in for the meantime.

  “You’ll never guess what,” she said, as soon as the door opened. Her eyes were wide with excitement.

  “What?” I asked, apprehensively.

  “Guess who’s joining us this morning?” she clapped her hands together, excitedly.

  “Please tell me you didn’t ask my father to join us?” I grimaced, while Marla laughed.

  “No, but that would’ve been a better idea.” Marla’s mind drifted off to what I assumed would make me violently ill had I given much thought into it.

  Calliope peered her head through the doorway.

  “I am so ready to physically invigorate the temple that is my body.”

  “How are you awake?” I asked, stunned. “Am I missing something? Hell froze over, right?”

  “Nope. Just lots and lots of coffee,” Calliope replied, agitated. “Especially, with an annoying
friend
calling super early, ripping me from a peaceful slumber,” she said, glaring at Marla.

  I snickered, grabbing my keys before we left for our warm up.

  “Xenia, darling. What’s new? I feel like we haven’t had the chance to talk about Nicholas.”

  “Because you’re always so busy with boy-hunting. It’s taxing, I know,” my eyes rolled back.

 
How could I possibly explain to my two best friends that I was a Diplozoe? When all else failed, I took the easy way out.

  “Nothing
new
, really. We went to the carnival and I won him a stuffed ladybug. He then bribed a carny for a stuffed ladybug in return. It was nice.”

  The desolate, newly paved road was black, springy and would soon be congested with city-goers cutting corners, avoiding traffic. We jogged for twenty minutes and walked for another ten.

  “Cal, you can shower at my place.”

  “Thanks, Xeni but I already have all my stuff at Marla’s.”

  “No prob. Breakfast at my place then?” I was dying to make pancakes and somehow I always made enough for a football team.

  “Yay! Can’t wait. Will your father be joining us as well?” Marla asked.

  I shot her a dirty look.

  “What? He may need to come down for some coffee at some point.”

  “You’re disturbing, you know that?”

  “Your dad is hot,” Calliope jumped in Marla’s bandwagon. 

  I growled at both of them before they turned into Marla’s place, while I jogged to my house to get ready.

  After an hour, the girls came over and I made my favorite recipe—blueberry banana pancakes. We ate and I offered to drive to York for once.

  Once on campus, the girls and I parted ways. Our schedules clashed for the day, testing my budding independence. I walked through York Lanes on my way to the bookstore, stopping for a tasty latte along the way.

  “Xenia,” he called, amidst stirring his coffee. His brown leather jacket enveloped a white T-Shirt that clung loosely to his upper body. I caught my breath, averting eye contact. 

  “Orion…how are you?” I murmured. It never donned on me that running into him would become a regular thing.

  “I could be better. You?”

  “I’m good. And how could you be better?” I asked, cynically.

  “I’m having this party tonight, and there’s this girl I’d like to ask.”

  “Is it a special occasion?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “If you want my advice, I think you should flat-out ask her.”

  His lips curved into a smile, “Well, then. Xenia, would you like to come to my party?”

  “Oh,” I dropped my wallet, spilling change. “You’re bullshitting me, right?”

  “I am not. I’d like it very much if you came,” he said, kneeling beside me, picking up my change.

  “Really? Me? I thought you despised me.”

  “Whatever gave you that impression?”

  “The way you gawk at me is unnerving. At times, you seem cordial, but other times I feel as though you dislike me.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I gawked. And I don’t hate you anymore.”

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  “It should,” he whispered. “I would like to get to know you.”

  “On one condition. Can I bring some friends?”

  “Of course you can.”

  “Can I bring a date?”

  Orion pursed his lips, while picking up his book bag. “You can even bring your neighbor’s pet, if you’d like.”

  “Perfect. Then it’s settled.” I couldn’t help but grin. I enjoyed pushing Orion’s buttons. “Address?” I asked.

  “Right,” he said, writing the information down on a napkin. “Call me if you get lost,” he winked, turning away. “Actually, I’ve changed my mind. No pets, other guys or friends…just you.”

  “Too late. No backsies.”

  “I usually get what I want, Xenia,” he smirked, amused.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” I said, enjoying every second of it.

  “I never said it wouldn’t be a challenge, but in the end…”

  “Bye, Orion,” I jumped in line, ordering a latte.  I glanced back and Orion had left by the time I had paid.

  I trotted off merrily up until I arrived at the jam-packed bookstore. I scurried through each aisle, searching for course material from a long reference list up until I bumped into a wall of a man.

  “Oh!” I yelped, caught off guard, “
Sorry
. Hey.”

  “Xenia,” Nicholas whispered, equally staggered. He hugged me uneasily.

  “So, books huh?” I held up my list.

  “Lots of books,” he said, looking it over. “Have you found any yet?”

  “Nope, you?”

  “Working on it. Let me help you with yours. It’s a boyfriendly thing to do, after all,” he said.

  “Sure—that’d be great.” I was happy to unload any tedious work.

  “Any other freaky mansion shows you’d like to take me to?”

  “I’ll keep you posted,” he chuckled, while looking through stacks of books and course kits.

  “Here we are,” he said, handing me my first official course kit.

  “Yikes, that’s heavy,” I replied, hugging the course kit against my chest. “Would you like to come to a party tonight?” I asked, hopeful.

  “Where’s it at?”

  “Orion’s…” I said, trailing off. “It’s an open invite pretty much.”

  “No, thank you. I don’t trust him.”

  “It’s just a party.”

  “I have a bad feeling about him. I’d rather you didn’t go either.”

  “But you have to come. It’ll be fun and you can be my bodyguard,” I said, playfully.

  “Why d’you want to go so badly?” he asked, furrowing his brow.

  “I want to get the full college experience and socials are a great way to network,” I explained, adjusting my arms under the course kit. “If you change your mind, you know where I’ll be.” I took a snap shot of the address and handed him the napkin. “I have to get to class. See you later,” I jutted forward, giving him a quick peck.

  “Bye,” he sighed, scrutinizing the paper. “Wait a minute, he gave you his number?”