Rocket Science

by K. M. Neuhold

  “No.”

  “Fine. Ball sac?” he suggests.

  “You are officially not in charge of the code word,” I say. “Our code word is quantum optics.”

  “Are you sure you won’t accidentally use that in casual conversation?” he deadpans.

  “Hmm, good point. It could come up. Okay, here it is, final code phrase: Paxton is a genius. There’s no way that could be said in casual conversation.”

  “Ha. Ha,” he says blandly. “Fine, code phrase decided upon. Can we go now?”

  “Yes, let’s go.”

  Pax

  Every time Elijah fiddles with his blazer on our drive over to Seph’s place, I have a harder time remembering why I’m not supposed to want to pull over and kiss the hell out of him.

  “Relax, Einstein,” I say, reaching over to put my hand over his to stop his fidgeting.

  He stills under my touch, his skin warm and smooth under my fingers, reminding me of how the rest of him felt. Goddamn, it should not be this difficult to stop thinking about one fucking hookup. It’s done and over with, and it’s not going to happen again.

  Pulling into the driveway of the little ranch house Seph has been renting for the past few years, I park the car and unbuckle before turning to look at Elijah. His face is pale in the dim light of the evening, his fingers shaking as he reaches to unbuckle his own seatbelt. I search my mind for a way to reassure him again, but I’ve said everything there is to say. He needs to see that they’re good people, then he’ll relax. But the fact that he’s clearly had enough bad experiences to make him this nervous makes me want to rip somebody’s head off.

  “Come on, I’m starving,” I encourage, climbing out of the car.

  It takes a few seconds before he follows, but eventually he gets out, and we meet at the front of the car. Without thinking, I drop my hand to his lower back, and for a fraction of a second, he leans into my touch before starting forward toward the house.

  As soon as we set foot on the front porch, the door flies open, and Seph greets us dressed like a fifties housewife in a black and white polka dot dress, a red, frilly apron around her waist, her hair styled and full makeup on. It’s a major departure from the usually laid back look she tends to prefer.

  “What the hell happened to you?” I ask, and her smile turns to a scowl, and she punches me in the shoulder. “Ow, damn, I just meant you look different than you usually do.”

  “I think you look really nice,” Elijah offers in a quiet, sheepish voice.

  “Thank you,” Seph says, beaming at him before giving me another glare. “Your friend can stay, you can leave.”

  “Aw, don’t be salty, Sephy. I didn’t say you didn’t look nice.” I give her my best boyish grin, snagging her around the waist and forcing a hug on her.

  “You’re an ass,” she declares, giving into the hug after a moment of token struggle. “Come on in. I’ve been slaving away for hours.”

  I release her and give Elijah a reassuring look before following her inside.

  I have to admit, it smells amazing as we make our way down the hallway to the eat-in kitchen. Bishop and Hudson are already there, leaning against the counter, each with a glass of wine in hand. It seems like they’re in a whispered argument that abruptly ends when they realize they’re no longer alone.

  “Seph is forcing us to drink wine,” Hudson says in way of greeting.

  “I’m not forcing you to do anything,” she argues.

  “You wouldn’t let us have beer.”

  “Because beer isn’t fancy,” she points out as if that settles it. “You can have water if you’d prefer.”

  Hudson makes a face, and Bishop takes a sip from his own glass. “It’s good wine, and it adds to the ambiance,” he says.

  Hudson snorts a laugh. “You’re only agreeing with her because you’re pissed off at me.”

  “Self-absorbed much? I’m capable of thoughts and feelings that have nothing whatsoever to do with you,” Bishop grumbles.

  “Yeah, you’ve made that perfectly clear.”

  My eyes ping pong between the two of them as they snipe at each other, and I wonder, not for the first time, if there’s more than friendship there.

  “Okay,” I say to draw everyone’s attention. “Let’s not scare Elijah away in the first five minutes, all right?”

  “Sorry, Elijah,” Bishop apologizes, crossing the kitchen with a friendly smile, his hand extended. “You’ll have to forgive Hudson, he’s not housebroken yet.”

  Elijah gives a quiet laugh and takes Bishop’s hand. Hudson and Seph officially introduce themselves next, and I can see Elijah start to visibly relax.

  Seph gets us each a glass of wine and tells us dinner should be ready in about ten minutes.

  “I can’t believe you left early last weekend, man,” Hudson says. “A group of undergrads stumbled in about an hour after you took off, and I had to take three of them home all by myself since you weren’t there to help out.” He smirks, and out of the corner of my eye, I catch Bishop wince.

  “I’m sure that was quite a hardship for you,” I tease. “Those poor guys though, stuck with you instead of the thousands of better options they could’ve gone home with instead.”

  “Fuck you,” he chuckles. “Where’d you need to take off to so early anyway? You don’t actually expect us to believe you went home that early just to go to bed by yourself, do you?”

  I cast a quick glance in Elijah’s direction and see him intensely focused on his wine glass.

  I clear my throat, casting around for an excuse. I can’t tell them I ditched out early to go eat pizza and watch old sci-fi movies with Elijah. It will sound like there’s something going on between us that there’s not. They’ll never let it go if they get that impression.

  “Grindr hookup,” I lie.

  “Oh yeah? Tell us about him,” Hudson prompts. “Was he as slutty as the last one you told me about? Getting on his knees and begging for your cock before you even had the door closed?”

  I want to look over at Elijah so badly to gauge his reaction, but I force myself to hold Hudson’s curious gaze, a fake lazy smile spreading over my lips.

  “Something like that.”

  “Come on, you’ve gotta give me more than that,” he pushes.

  “Leave it alone, Hudson. Maybe he doesn’t want to talk about it,” Bishop scolds.

  “But he always wants to talk about the guys he fucks,” Hudson argues, and I finally give in to the urge and glance over at Elijah. His cheeks are pink, and his eyes are still trained on his wine glass, his shoulders slightly hunched as he leans against the counter, not saying a word.

  “I don’t tell you about all my hookups,” I argue weakly. Prior to two weeks ago that would’ve been a lie, but I didn’t tell them about Elijah, and I have no plans to. And not just because I don’t need the grief. In a weird way, it feels too private to tell anyone about. Wow, maybe I’m maturing or some shit like that.

  “Dinner’s ready, you heathens,” Seph declares.

  I have to admit, the tiny ass birds she cooked are delicious, as is the rest of the meal. Everyone does their best to include Elijah in the conversation, and I’m extremely grateful for that. There’s the normal amount of ribbing and gutter talk, which Seph scowls about, declaring it not suitable for her dinner party. But by the end of the night we’re all full and relaxed, and I think we’d all have to say Seph was right about a dinner party being fun.

  Elijah is quiet when we get back into the car a few hours later.

  “That wasn’t so bad, right?” I ask.

  “It was all right,” he says vaguely.

  “They were all nice, and the food was good,” I prompt, hoping he’ll tell me he had a great time and can’t wait to hang out with my friends again. I’m not sure why it’s so important to me, but I want to know he liked them.

  “They were great, it’s just…” he cuts himself off, shaking his head and slouching in his seat.

  “It’s just what?”
>
  “I don’t get you. That first night at the bar with the Star Wars argument, you were so passionate and smart. You’ve been the same when you come to hang out at my place or text me. But then tonight you’re this dude-bro asshole who only thinks with his dick. It’s like you’re some kind of horny Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.”

  His words hit their mark in the center of my chest, making me wince.

  “Haven’t you ever wanted to be someone else?” I ask.

  I expect the answer to come quickly. He’s a socially awkward genius, of course he must’ve daydreamed about being like everyone else. When he doesn’t respond right away, I look over and catch him chewing his bottom lip, seemingly deep in thought. His gaze flicks to mine and ensnares me.

  “No,” he answers. “As much as it has always sucked to be laughed at and misunderstood, I wouldn’t trade who I am just to fit in.”

  My gut twists and a pained, self-loathing smile twists on my lips. “I guess you’re a better man than me.”

  Neither of us say anything the entire drive back to Elijah’s apartment, his words echoing in my head. Maybe tonight was a bad idea. Around Elijah these past few weeks I almost forgot who I really am. The guy I am around Hudson, Bishop, and Seph, that’s the real Paxton—a horny asshole with no business wanting someone as innocent as Elijah.

  I pull up in front of his building, and he unbuckles but pauses before getting out.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come off as judgmental or anything. I was caught off guard because you were so different tonight.”

  “I’m sorry too. I hope you still had a good time.”

  A shy smile tilts the corner of his lips. “I did, actually. They were nice and kind of funny.”

  “Yeah, they are,” I agree. “I’ll see you next weekend?” I ask.

  He scrunches his eyebrows and tilts his head. “What’s next weekend?”

  “I don’t know, Nerdlet,” I answer with a smirk. “I guess we’ll have to think of something.”

  “Okay,” he agrees, and I watch as he finally gets out of the car. I watch him the entire way up the steps to his building, and it’s not until I see the light in his unit come on that I pull away.

  Chapter 12

  Elijah

  “Hey, what are you doing this weekend?” Alex asks as soon as class ends, falling into step beside me as we make our way to our next class.

  “Um…” I push my glasses up my nose. Pax said he wanted to hang out again this weekend, but it felt like things were a little strange between us when he dropped me off. Not that I’m an expert on social situations or anything, but it seemed like there was a weird tension between us. We’ve been texting a little this week, but it’s felt stilted, not like before. On the other hand, at least there was communication, unlike the week before. Maybe everyone is right when they say sex ruins friendships. I didn’t even get full on sex before the friendship was ruined. I feel kind of ripped off.

  “Earth to Elijah.” Alex waves his hand in front of my face and chuckles. “This weekend? Friday to be specific? What are your plans?”

  “I’m not sure,” I finally answer. “Hanging out with a friend, I think, but I don’t know what we’re doing.” Will he want to order takeout and watch Netflix or drag me out to another bar in an attempt to hone my flirting skills? If it’s the latter, it’s my own fault. I’m the one who told him I still wanted help learning to flirt. I don’t even know why I said it. I don’t want to flirt with anyone else, and I definitely don’t want to do with anyone else what I did with Pax.

  “Jeez, you really are off in La-La Land today, aren’t you?” Alex laughs.

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “I asked if you wanted to come to a party I’m throwing. You can bring your friend,” he offers. “It’s going to be pretty low key, but it should be fun.”

  “A party?”

  “Yeah, you know drinks, food, people mingling.” He smirks at me.

  “Oh, I don’t know.” I push my glasses up again, heat rising in my face, steaming them up.

  “Tell you what, I’ll text you my address, and if you find yourself trying to find something to do on Friday night, you can swing by.”

  “Sure,” I agree, already knowing hell will freeze over before I go to a party.

  Pax

  As soon as I drop my suitcase and computer bag on my bed, I reach into my pocket and grab my phone with a singular focus.

  Pax: Just got home, jumping in the shower and then swinging by

  Einstein: Ok, should I get ready to go out somewhere or….?

  I consider the question while I strip out of my clothes, tossing them into my hamper. Is he asking to go out so I can help him with his flirting skills more like we talked about a couple of weeks ago?

  Pax: Let’s stay in

  Einstein: Ok, see you soon

  When I get to Elijah’s he buzzes me up and is waiting with the door open when I make it up to his floor. He’s gripping the door tightly, his knuckles white, a tense smile on his lips. Fucking hell, what’s it going to take to get back on even footing?

  For a crazy second I consider kissing the painful expression off of him.

  “Come on in,” he says. “I ordered Chinese food.”

  “Great.”

  I follow him into the apartment and plop down on the couch while he heads to the kitchen area.

  Elijah’s phone buzzes on the coffee table, and because I’m shameless and curious, I lean forward to see what the notification says. Text from Alex. Who the hell is Alex? Some guy he’s been hanging out with during the week while I’m away? A girl in his classes? Why the hell do I even care? But regardless of the lack of logic in my reaction, my jaw ticks.

  “You’ve got a text,” I call as he stands in the kitchen pulling our food out of the paper bags it came in.

  “I do?” He sounds surprised, which eases some of my jealousy, replacing it with that warm affection I’ve come to associate with how adorably clueless my little Nerdlet is. Well, not mine…

  “Yeah, it says it’s from Alex,” I say, and he groans. “Who’s Alex?”

  “Just a guy,” he answers, spiking my blood pressure again.

  “A guy?”

  “Yeah, from school. He reminds me of Theo, all petite and way more confident that I could ever dream of being. I guess we’re kind of friends?”

  I let out a relieved laugh. “That’s cool. Maybe he’s texting you to hang out? It is the weekend after all. Even super geniuses need weekends off.”

  “Um…yeah.” He carries over the boxes of Chinese food and a couple of forks, his face carefully blank.

  “What?” I ask suspiciously.

  “What?” he repeats, his expression full of innocence, that for once looks fake.

  “You’re being cagey, you already know what the text says?”

  “It’s probably a reminder that he’s having a party tonight that he wanted me to come to,” Elijah admits, his gaze intensely focused on his container of chicken fried rice.

  “A party? Why didn’t you say so? I can go find a way to entertain myself while you go make some new friends.” It’s what Theo wanted for him, right? And my brother’s known Elijah long enough to know what’s best for him.

  He shakes his head rapidly, shoving a forkful of food into his mouth. “He said you could come too, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “I’m invited too?” A slow smile spreads across my lips. “Even better. We’re doing this. Food first and then we’re going to the party. I’m dying to see if college parties have changed since my day.”

  “It’s not like a college party. It’s probably going to be a bunch of grad students from CalTech, not exactly the wildest crowd,” he argues, clearly trying to deter my excitement.

  “Sounds like a blast,” I lie. Being with Elijah is always a blast, and I’m sure the party won’t be half bad.

  “This is not how you want to spend a Friday night,” he argues, fixing me with a leveling stare.

&n
bsp; “Oh, but it is,” I contradict with a smirk. “Food first, then we party.”

  He groans again. “No.”

  “Yes,” I insist, chuckling when he makes another pained sound.

  “You’re worse than Theo,” he complains, picking up an eggroll and biting into it aggressively.

  “Oh yeah? Are you going to call my brother and tattle that I’m not being nice to you?”

  “Yes, and he’ll probably fly out here and kick your ass,” he threatens with a grin.

  “I’m sure,” I say deadpan. I wonder for the dozenth time about Theo’s feelings toward Elijah. Even if he only sees him as a friend, he trusted me to watch out for him, not get him naked and then do a one-eighty as soon as the cum cools. Guilt swamps me, making the food in my stomach feel like a brick.

  “I didn’t tell him, if that’s what you’re worried about. I mean, I told him there was someone, but I didn’t tell him it was you.”

  “Oh yeah, and how’d he take that?” I ask, keeping my voice even.

  Elijah shrugs. “He was worried about me, but otherwise fine. He gets overprotective sometimes, but I know he only has my best interest at heart.”

  “Yeah,” I agree, setting aside my mostly uneaten food. “I’m not all that hungry, why don’t we put this stuff in the fridge for later and get over to that party.”

  Chapter 13

  Elijah

  My heart is beating so hard I’m wondering if it’s possible for it to bruise a rib. As we climb the steps to Alex’s apartment, Pax puts a hand on my lower back, and even though I’m sure it’s meant to soothe my nerves, it only serves to make me claustrophobic. My knees start to tremble with each step that takes us closer to the second floor.

  Memories of mocking laughter, sneering faces, humiliation so complete it still makes me sick to my stomach to this day, all flood my mind and make bile rise in my throat.

  “I changed my mind; let’s skip this party.” I try to turn around and head back down the stairs, but Pax stands in my way.

  “We’re already here, Einstein. Let’s just pop in for a bit and see how it goes.”