Escapism (The Escapism Series) (19 page)

  “I kind of have plans tonight. Actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask.  Would you mind if Marla and I dated?”

  “Oh. I don’t mind at all. She deserves someone like you.”

  “Really? Thanks,” he smiled, appeased.

  “Just treat her well or you’ll be sorry.”

  “That won’t be an issue. Trust me. She has me—don’t laugh now—smitten.”

  “There’s no doubt in my mind. See you around,” I snickered.  I ran back to meet with the girls for our strength-training portion, waving goodbye to Landon.

  Although I was initially shocked, I was not oblivious to their budding relationship as they had gone to formal together. Evidently, there were sparks flying between them.

  After our workout, we grabbed lunch and ate in Central Square, just outside the student center’s north doors. Orion strolled out of the Behavioral Science Building just adjacent to us.

  “Hello, girls. Fancy seeing you here, Xenia,” he said, pleasantly surprised.

  “I don’t fancy seeing you at all,” I scowled. He stood awaiting introduction. “Orion, this is Calliope and Marla. Okay, see ya!” I willed him away in my mind.

  “Marla. Calliope. You are both looking well,” he winked, toying with my nerves. “Pleasure to have met you both…formally.”

  I placed my Thai food container down, furiously and he sensed my growing hostility, backing off. “I’ll leave you girls to your lunch. Have a nice day,” he smiled, retreating gracefully.

  “He’s
such
a jerk, I swear,” I vented.

  “He’s so hot though. You’ve got to admit,” Calliope said, transparently swooning over him.

  “He’s easy on the eyes, that’s for sure.  But promise me you’ll stay away from him. He is seriously bad news,” I warned.

  “I’m not promising anything,” Calliope said, reluctantly.

  I snarled, annoyed.

  “Fine, fine. If you’re that concerned about it, I’ll refrain. Whatever. There are plenty of guys around here anyhow,” she said, vividly.

  “I say we go to the mall. I need me something pretty,” Marla announced, changing subjects.

  “Sounds fun. Count me in.” Calliope was immediately sold on the idea.

  I felt indifferent about an afternoon at the mall. I had too much on my mind to fully enjoy it. For starters, I felt fairly guilty keeping everything from my closest friends—family really. Each day became progressively harder to endure.

  “I can’t. I’m supposed to meet with—” I paused, contemplating a cover.

  “
Me
,” said a familiar deep voice. I turned around, facing Nicholas. Calliope and Marla picked up our empty Thai boxes and tossed them in the garbage. They trailed off, snickering. “Bye,” they said in unison.

  Nicholas smiled at the girls, coyly.

  “Perfect timing, Mr. Wyles.” As strange as my new life seemed, I felt like a regular girl around him. On the other hand, being around Marla and Calliope, I knew I was different—just how different, I would have never imagined.

  I longed to tell my dear friends everything, but I did not want to implicate them. Maybe one day, I would be able to tell my two dearest friends about who I really was.

  “Would you like to come over to my place for dinner?”

  “I’d love to but I have a meeting,” I grumbled. I was meeting Kiran to research my lineage.

  “Another time then?” he asked, amicably.

  “I could go for some dessert,” I added.

  “Now?”

  “Unless you’re busy. I’d love to see your place.”

  “It’s manageable. I have amazing dessert at home that I think you’ll approve of—it’s from a farmer’s market,” he explained, cordially.

  “Sounds delish,” I replied, biting my lower lip.

  “Great. Shall we?”

  “We shall,” I giggled, taking his hand.

  In a short while, we reached his condo just north of campus. Once inside, I was impressed by the cleanliness. The interior décor was simple yet sleek.

  “Let me give you a tour,” he offered, taking my jacket. “This is the living room,” he said, extending his arm theatrically, showcasing the space. “The kitchen is over here, and the dessert we’re having is strawberry cheesecake.” He raised his eyebrows in anticipation.

  “From a farmer’s market?”

  “I lied.  It’s from a local bakery.  It just sounded more enticing to say farmer’s market,” he smiled.

  “That’s alright. I love cheesecake,” I said, quickly clapping my hands.

  He cut two pieces and handed me a plate. “Back to the tour. Here’s my study where I spend countless hours working,” he rolled his eyes just before revealing the last room. “And this is my bedroom,” he said, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck.

  I took a bigger bite of cheesecake. “Do you live alone?” I mumbled.

  “Yes.”

  “It’s a great place,” I took another bite, dropping a piece on the hardwood floor. “Sorry. I’m such a klutz.”

  He knelt down beside me, helping. “It’s okay. I’ve done worse.”

  A strand of hair fell across my face and he leaned in, brushing it aside. I flinched as he hesitantly placed his hand behind my neck. Nicholas pulled me in closer, kissing me gently. His lips felt soft and his breath warm against my skin. Slowly, he moved down to the hollow of my neck, tormenting the rest of my body.

  He placed one hand on my hip and the other edged to the small of my back. My skin boiled under his hand as every inch of my body longed for his touch. I pulled back—out of breath and lightheaded—resting my head on his shoulder.

  “I don’t know anything about you. Where are you from originally? Did you have a big family? How did you die, the first time?” I asked, rampantly. 

  “Where do I start?”

  “How about from the day you were born,” I offered, eagerly.

  “Here goes. I was born in Greece in eighteen twenty five.  My family and I lived there for a short period before relocating to Norway—we moved a lot. I had an older brother who died from pneumonia, and a younger sister who died at birth,” he said, tightening his jaw. “My parents died when I was five. Pneumonia too.”

  “That must’ve been rough,” I whispered, sympathetically.

  He nodded, continuing, “I was orphaned in eighteen thirty. Fortunately, our neighbors were dear family friends so they adopted me. Somehow I—the least deserving of my family—was the only survivor.”

  “Don’t say that,” I objected to his guilt ridden conscience, swiftly changing topics. “What’d you do when you were my age? Tell me everything,” I asked, sitting on edge.

  “In my late teenage years, most nights, I spent in taverns drowning away my sorrows,” he sighed, continuing, “With time, I began to feel hopeful once more. I met some other Diplozoes and eventually found out what I was.”

  “Your parents weren’t Diplozoes?” I asked, puzzled.

  “Some humans began to evolve as early as the eighteenth century, but not everyone. I evolved faster than the rest of my family and was able to fight off infection and disease. I died for the first time when I was seven, escaping from the Dome.”

  I listened intently, while nibbling on my nails, which were too tough to chew on.

  “When my parents died at home, I was afraid to leave because I knew once I left, it would be the last time I’d ever see them. I thought by some miracle, they’d awake.  Surely, they’d open their eyes and smile as they always did. I was eventually discovered by our neighbor.

  One day, consumed by this foreign rage against the world for taking my family away, I unintentionally travelled to Styx. The heightened state I reached was in the same energy level required for shifting. After discovering the portal, I started travelling between the two worlds.  It only became easier each time,” he explained, continuing meticulously, “I’ll never forget the day we were visited by these men disguised as doctors. They told my guardians that I was inflicted with a plague and I was to be quarantined immediately—I couldn’t recall much after that. I was six and trapped in the Dome, unable to travel for a year, constantly under monitoring and questioning,” he mused. “One day, I decided to break free. We were out in the field and I trailed off from the rest, running as fast as I could toward the open forest ahead,” he explained, looking up to face me. His eyes were blood shot, and his expression was solemn.

  I placed my hand over his and closed my eyes, visualizing what he could no longer describe.

  He ran in the vast field far away from the others. The guards trailed from behind in a desperate attempt to stop him—they fired.

  “
No! Don’t shoot.
He’s a child,” screamed an attending nurse.

  “We can’t let them escape. The ESOM cannot be implicated,” said the young guard, coldly.

  I released his hand and gasped petrified.

  “Although the ESOM had studied the extent of our capabilities for over a century, they weren’t prepared for me, so it seemed,” he furrowed his brow, lost in thought. “My fragment traveled to the Dome, searching for someone—you, nine. Our connection formed at an early age and it was impenetrable,” he said, continuing, “I traveled to Styx in search of my lost fragment and that is when Nyxta granted me immortality, conditionally. My living fragment continued to live a normal life until the age of twenty five, the age that I became immortal.
The Fates
determined my restoration or demise at that age, and Nyxta guaranteed I’d have a fighting chance at restoration—she said I was
different
,” he explained, sullenly. “I waited for more than a century and a half for you, Xenia.”

  “Why you? Why did Nyxta grant you the exception?” I asked, bemused.

  “She said you’d be worth the wait—however cryptic that sounds.” Nicholas placed a pendant in my hand. I turned it over and the number nine was engraved on the back. I reached into my pocket for the silver pendant, handing it back to him, rightfully.

  “How does one become immortal?”

  “Nyxta grants immortality to those she deems worthy. She anoints you a Theodiplozoe in the River Styx.”

  Nicholas brushed his hand down the side of my face, seemingly distracted. “Is there anything else you’d like to know?”

  “Maybe just one more thing. Can I see what you saw in the dome?”  

  He placed his hand in mine, allowing access to his memory. His visions flashed to a large field where he played as a child. Another flashing memory surfaced, briefly blinding me—this one was of me, interestingly. Two men examined my chart. They said I was one of the few—the reason I was abducted and held under examination in the Dome. Incidentally, the ESOM discovered Nicholas’ lost fragment because of my screen, tracking my travels. They saw him each time I was placed for scheduled naps where an IV was inserted in my arm and a tranquilizer put me to sleep. While in the Dome, Nicholas sought me out at an early age.
The typical fragment sought restoration in their early teenage years.
Consequentially, the ESOM contained Nicholas’ lost fragment for some time in the bed next to mine.

  I wasn’t the only one abducted.  I was unlucky number nine, but from my hazy recollection, there were eleven beds in the dome.
Who were the nine others like us?

  The ESOM had limited time in containing his fragment. He remained in my travels—untouchable by the elite’s power while he continued evolving and growing stronger.

  “We were childhood friends?” I smiled, reliving the memories for myself.

  “If you call a dead fragment a friend, then sure. We were innocent children, I suppose,” he said, warily.

  “You were only drawn to me because you sought restoration,” I said, bleakly.

  “If that were the case, I’d have been long gone by now,” he smiled.  

  “Why aren’t you?” I asked, amused.

  “Because I’m in love with you, you silly girl,” he chuckled, caressing my arm.

  “Woman,” I corrected, playfully. “Is that what this feeling is?”

  My cell phone rang and my heart skipped a beat—the outside world resurfaced.

  “Excuse me for a sec,” I said, answering breathless. “Hello?”

  “Hello,” he greeted in a playful undertone. “Did I reach you at a bad time?”

  “Yes, actually you did,” I snapped at Orion.

  “What were you doing?” he asked, feigning interest. It was unlike him to casually call.

  “I’m with Nicholas. Can I call you back?”

  “Oh.”

  “No
oh
. We were just catching up,” I explained, although it was none of his business.

  “We have to talk—it’s important,” he said, firmly.

  “
Fine.
Come by tonight around six.”

  Nicholas kissed my shoulder, distractedly. “Who is it?”

  I hung up abruptly.

  “Marla. She has a date with Landon and needs some wardrobe advice,” I said, shocked at how easily the lies flowed. “I should be going anyhow. I have some things I need to take care of.”

  “Don’t go. Spend the evening here,” Nicholas pleaded, temptingly.

  “I’d rather be with you, believe me,” I said, standing by the door. I was overcome by a sudden urge to rid myself of something—subdued feelings.

  “I love you, too,” I admitted, gleefully.

  Nicholas raised his brow, speechless.

  I kissed him before leaving—one of those goodbye kisses as though it would be our last.

***

  The subway ride was mildly turbulent, slowly rocking me into a dazed state. Once home, I shut the door behind me and everything up until that moment seemed to disappear as the familiarity of my home restored comfort—a safe haven away from the rest of the world—
worlds
.

  My mother shouted from the kitchen, “Xeni?”

  I grabbed an apple and some water, keeping up appearances.

  “How’s college life?” She asked, examining me thoroughly. “Have you lost weight?”

  “Everything’s fine,” I said, uneasily. “I just have a lot going on right now. I’m going over to Marla’s later to study.”

  “Oh, okay. Well, make sure you eat something substantial. A pop tart doesn’t count.”

  “Really?” I replied, mockingly.

  “I ordered some pizza,” she said, placing a twenty on the counter.

  “Oh, because that’s much healthier,” I said, sarcastically.

  I bolted from the kitchen, dodging further scrutiny. I hopped up the stairs, heading straight for the shower, while texting Kiran along the way.  I checked if he could meet me downtown as early as five.

  I took a bite of apple and placed it on my dresser.

  After I showered, I checked my missed messages.

  Kiran texted back. “Five it is. Meet at Osgoode station?”

  I texted, “See you then.”

  The doorbell rang not once, but four times. My mother was likely buried in paper work. I shuffled down the stairs to pay the delivery guy.

  “Orion?” I shouted, surprised. “I forgot you were coming by,” I self-consciously hid behind the door. My hair was wrapped in a towel—as was the rest of my body. “You’re early.”

  “We need to talk,” he whispered.

  “Can we talk another time? I’ve got to be someplace.”

  He looked peculiar, somewhat nervous.

  “Is it about my diplo ‘rents? Or the ESOM?” I asked, hurriedly.

  “No,” he sighed, agitated.

  “Then spit it out. I have to get ready.”

  “I like you—
a lot
. I think I may even…
love
you,” he said, aghast—as though it were the first time he’d said those words to anyone.

  “No you don’t. You just want to hook-up.”

  “That’s not it at all. Well, at first, yes, but I’ve changed,” he pressed his lips together suppressing a smile.

  “I’m with Nicholas,” I said, with slow precision. “Besides, you should never change for another person. Be who you are, even if it’s…you,” I gave Orion a hug and he hugged back a little too hard. “Okay, that’s good. Bye.”

  I felt somewhat obligated to be kind to him. After all, he helped unblock me. Although he was a rogue spy—something I couldn’t entirely forgive—his recent actions had been honorable.

  I placed my life on the line for him in Styx; in a way, I guessed we were even.
Why did I feel as though I owed him something more?  

  By the time I was fully dressed and ready, I realized I had half an hour to reach Osgoode Station. I jogged to the subway and hopped on the southbound train, listening to my Cyclopod player. I slowly nodded off, luckily awakening in time for my stop.

  Kiran waited outside by the southwest corner on Queen Street.

  “Hey, girlfriend,” he greeted, playfully.

  “Well hey yourself,” I said, smiling. I was excited to learn anything and everything I could from him.

  We walked down the street, heedlessly. “There’s so much I’m dying to know, but first, I need to know what’ll happen to my idle self, Offline?”

  “The two worlds are parallel to one another. Although your decisions could vary between worlds, you’d re-adapt in your travels anyhow—you’re on automatic pilot. So, don’t sweat it.”

  “Hmm,” I reflected, impressed by our natural tendencies to re-establish balance. “Do you want to get tea?” I asked as we passed a café.

  “Sure,” he responded, in good spirits. “It’s on me.”

  “Right now, I feel like a hot tea will absolve everything. I bet that sounds stupid, huh?” I asked, as we entered the shop.

  “Not at all. That’s how I feel about alcohol,” he chuckled, continuing, “I’m going to the little boys’ room.” He handed me his wallet, requesting, “I’d like a jasmine green tea,
por favor
.”