by Indie Gantz
It’s my turn to raise my eyebrows at Tirigan. He gives me a curt nod before stepping closer and taking my hands into his.
Then, suddenly, standing face to face with a very serious looking Tirigan while holding both of his hands becomes the funniest thing I’ve ever experienced. I break out into uncontrollable giggles.
Seriously? Tirigan reprimands my immaturity.
“Obviously not,” I laugh, then try to keep a straight face.
Close your eyes then.
“Fine.” I do as I’m told and close my eyes.
“Okay,” Bo continues. “Once you can feel the heat comin’ from Charlie, you’ll be able to see it too. Almost like a second layer of skin. You’ll know when it happens.”
“All right,” Tirigan answers, his voice low and focused. He’s silent for a few moments, and then I feel his hands tense slightly in mine. “I... I think I can see something,” Tirigan says quietly. “Yes. I can see it.”
“Good,” Bo says excitedly. “Now, concentrate on Charlie’s face. Are you watching?”
“Yes.”
“Splendid. Hey, uh, Charlie. That boy Finn came into the store the other day asking about you.”
My eyes fly open. “Finn? The boy from the festival?”
“Yep. He wanted to know if you were seeing anyone.”
“Seeing anyone?”
“You know, if you had a partner.”
“Oh.” I reply dumbly then understanding washes over me, and my mouth wags open like a fish. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” Bo replies, nodding with enthusiasm. “He said you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.”
“What? That doesn’t— I mean, that’s— he said that?” My face grows warm. I don’t know how to respond to her comment. Am I supposed to thank Bo? That doesn’t seem right. What if I’m supposed to thank Finn directly? That sounds horrible. Why would anyone do that? They probably don’t. I wonder if—
“Interesting,” Tirigan interjects himself into the inner monologue I haven’t given him access to. When I meet his eyes, I find his gaze trailing all over my face, like he’s cataloging every aspect of it.
“Interesting?” I echo. “What’s interesting?”
Were you embarrassed by Bo’s comment?
“Um, kind of. I guess.” My face warms again.
“Fascinating.” Tirigan smiles. Truly.
“Oh no.” I shake my head and pull my hands out of Tirigans. “I think we’ve had about enough of that. We’re already in each other’s heads. I don’t think we need to be adding this little trick too.”
Tirigan frowns slightly, but then nods in agreement. “You’re right. It does seem like an invasion of privacy.”
“Oh, it is. Big time,” Bo replies with a laugh. “Just like going into someone’s room and snoopin’ through their journal. You may be physically capable of doin’ it, but that doesn’t mean you should.”
“Right. No,” I agree, my head still shaking. “Absolutely not.”
“Well, I still recommend you practice on willing partners,” Bo says, pulling her lighter out of her pocket and flicking it a few times. “If you’ve got some big dangerous mission ahead of you, I think the lie detection skill could be a good one to have down.”
“That does seem logical,” Tirigan comments quietly. He steps back towards the fire and looks down at the flames. He looks into the fire as if he’s watching an extremely thought-provoking film. Tirigan has always looked at nature this way, but it’s only now I find myself able to relate.
“You know, he kind of scares me sometimes. All that brooding.” Bo strides up next to me and crosses her arms over her chest, her elbow grazing my own.
“He and Avias should form a club,” I respond lightly.
“At what point did you two fall under the assumption that I lost the ability to process sound?” Tirigan asks smartly, still turned away from us and staring into the flames.
Bo and I share a look of surprise, and then burst into a fit of laughter. Tirigan doesn’t turn to face us, but I can see his cheeks lift into a smile again.
Just like me, Tirigan’s doing a lot of that lately.
I like watching my brother smile and interact so easily with people he’s forming friendships with, but I don’t know how losing these friendships will affect him. Tirigan acts like he doesn’t care, like he doesn’t feel things the way I do, and maybe he doesn’t exactly, but I can see the way he’s changing. I see the small steps he takes every day, and I worry about where those steps will lead, and what it’ll do to him when he’s forced to turn around again.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Bunburying
The following day, I join Bo and Oleander in the shop again. I want to help stock the socks Vi knitted in bed the night before, but I also need to get out of the house. Thoughts of my mother and the life she kept from us continue to weigh heavy on my mind, and I’m finding it more and more difficult to push them away when I’m not actively studying or practicing with my friends.
Waiting for Kor’s contact to give us some sort of information about Calla makes my skin itch. I feel like I need to do something. I need to move. Act. Standing here, arranging socks and checking off boxes on an inventory sheet, starts to feel like the most ridiculous use of my time.
I let out a loud sigh and look out the window of the shop, searching for something, anything, to push me closer to Calla.
“You know, as fond as I am of a good mope, sometimes it’s best to just get it out there,” Oleander says, surprising me out of my increasingly negative thoughts.
When I turn around, I find him looking down at me with a half smile. He places the basket of rings in his hand on the shelf beside me as I stutter out something unintelligible.
“Um, well, I just… you know…” I look around the shop for something to distract Oleander away from his good intentions, but I come up empty.
“No,” Oleander gives his head a little shake. “I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.” He smiles again, and this time, I find it hard not to grin a little in return.
“It’s nothing,” I tell him, turning back to the socks. “I’m just being stupid.”
“Your feelings aren’t stupid,” Oleander replies, crossing his arms and leaning against the table I’m working on. He doesn’t frown, but I can tell he wants to. “Even if you’re embarrassed or you wish you had better control of them, your feelings are important, Charlie.”
A bitter laugh escapes me. “Try telling Tirigan that.”
“You’re on your own there, I’m afraid.” Oleander lets out an amused huff. “Tirigan’s way is Tirigan’s way. He sees things differently than you and I do.”
“I know,” I reply, sighing. “It’s just frustrating.” Oleander only nods and waits for me to continue. He always seems to know when someone has more to say. “It’s like, just because he has trouble with that side of himself, he thinks there’s something wrong with the way I process things. And I’m worried that one day all the stuff he buries away will just overwhelm him, and he’ll have some sort of breakdown.”
“Well, that’s entirely possible. Hiding from yourself can lead to unfortunate discoveries down the road.” Oleander pauses. “So you think the way he processes his emotions is incorrect?”
“Yeah, I guess I do.” I nod. “That’s not good, huh? Thinking my way is the only way?”
Oleander lets out another little laugh. “You’re human, well, at least partly, and humans are innately programmed to push back against anything that’s different from them.” He shrugs. “Just try to see things from Tirigan’s perspective more often. That’s the best you can do, I think.”
The advice is simple, and even obvious, but I’m immediately grateful for it. “Thanks, Oleander.”
The front door pulls my attention for a second as a customer comes in and starts browsing the shelves. Bo has finished with the other customer and looks over to us, probably expecting one of us to greet the new arrival. She purses her lips in irritation when neith
er of us makes a move to do so. With a scowl directed at us, Bo rounds the counter and greets the new customer herself. My smile takes on a guilty shape as I look up at Oleander and meet his gaze again.
“I think Bo would rather us get back to work,” I tell him. Oleander glances in Bo’s direction.
“I think she’s got this one handled.” His warm green eyes search mine. I don’t know what he’s looking for, but I can’t imagine he finds anything interesting there.
After a moment of feeling uncomfortable under his gaze, I turn and lean against the table next to him, making it harder for him to look at me like that. The change also settles my arm against his, and a jolt of something… something I have no name for rushes through me. The heat from him instantly overwhelms my senses, and I don’t know what to do with it.
“You weren’t just thinking about Tirigan before, though. Were you?” Oleander eventually asks.
“No,” I reply. “I was thinking about Calla.”
Oleander nods thoughtfully, but then his head tilts slightly with a new thought. “It’s interesting, the way you call your parents by their first names.”
“It’s an Anunnaki thing,” I explain, picking up the inventory clipboard I had discarded and looking it over again. “When you live for five centuries, parental endearments end up sounding a little strange. We still call them ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’ from time to time, but they have names for a reason. The Anunnaki are pretty big on individualism.”
“Fascinating,” Oleander murmurs. I can tell he’d like to ask more about that, but I’d rather relate to him about something more human. I trust Oleander, but I’m still waiting for that moment when being half-alien becomes no longer acceptable.
“I guess I’m just struggling with the idea that Calla isn’t the person I thought she was,” I provide. “And I’m pretty anxious to learn something that could help her.”
Oleander nods again. “That’s understandable. I know Kor sent out that call stone, so hopefully his contact will have something for you.” He pauses, and then adds, “You know, I know a thing or two about disappointing mother figures. If you ever want to talk about that, I’m here.”
It only takes me a moment to retrieve the memory of Oleander telling me what awful parents he has. An incarcerated mother and a father that neglected him. Neither of them looked for him when he left New Cardiff with Avias.
“Yeah,” I reply. “I guess you do. Thanks.” Just as I’m about to tell him that I’ll probably take him up on his offer to talk sometime, maybe on a day or night when Bo isn’t actively plotting our demise, the door to the shop opens again. My surprise at who walks through the door cuts off the conversation.
“Finn,” I say, just loud enough for the boy to hear. He turns toward me and grins. It’s enthusiastic, his eyes lighting up as they meet mine.
“Charlie! Just the Téssera I was looking for!”
Oleander pushes away from the display table we’re leaning on, but only after bumping his shoulder into mine and giving my inquiring look a small smile. It’s a smile that says, ‘we’ll talk more later,’ and I love that I know that. He moves to the center of the room and picks up the large canvas that’s resting against another display table. I watch as he climbs on top of the table, balancing precariously as it wobbles, and goes about hanging his most recent piece of art.
My attention is immediately drawn back to Finn as he approaches me quickly. The air he brings with him is weighed down by a strong odor of cleaning supplies, but when he pulls me into a surprising embrace, I smell something softer and earthy.
The spontaneous and very short-lived hug is interrupted by the sound of Oleander nearly falling off the table.
“Woah, you okay, man?” Finn asks, stepping back from me and eyeing Oleander’s position on the table. Oleander’s oversized neckline causes his shirt to hang off one shoulder as he regains his balance, exposing his left shoulder. It holds my attention until Oleander reaches up and struggles to hang the painting from the ceiling again.
“Yep,” Oleander answers with effort. “Just fine.”
Finn watches Oleander for a second, but then turns his attention back to me. “Your brother said I could find you here. Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“No,” I lie, shaking my head. “It’s fine. You came here to see me?”
Considering his greeting, and Bo’s teasing yesterday, I already know the answer to my question. Still, it feels weird to think the boy from the train station has twice gone out of his way to locate me.
“Yeah, I was hoping I could extend that offer to grab lunch again. I don’t know a whole lot of people here yet, and I thought maybe being a transplant yourself, you might be up for some company.”
This time when Oleander wobbles dangerously, he falls off the table in a dramatic sweep of long limbs and quiet curses.
I gain a few moments to think about Finn’s offer by rushing over to my friend and helping him to his feet again.
“Are you okay?” I ask, still holding on to Oleander’s arm.
“Yeah,” Oleander laughs. “Just a bruised ego, I think.”
I share his laugh, and only turn back to Finn when I hear him clear his throat.
“Oh, sorry,” I say, flustered and embarrassed for having made him wait for my answer. Being in town with Finn could be a great way to meet more people and learn more about Calla. I’d be an idiot not to accept the invitation. “Sure. Lunch sounds good.”
Finn’s busy shifting his eyes from me to Oleander in a repeated pattern, so he doesn’t reply right away. When he does, his eyebrows raise in surprise, as if he didn’t expect me to agree. “Really?”
Suddenly unsure, and remembering my earlier apprehension, I waver. “Well…
“I mean, great!” Finn interrupts, not giving me a chance to take it back. “I’ll pick you up here around noon, okay? Tomorrow?”
“Um-“
“I’ve got to run,” Finn says in a hurry, already backing towards the door. “It was good to see you again!” He throws a glance at Bo in the back and then to Oleander, waving at them both. “Silv’ll have my neck if I’m late!”
Finn lets out a sound that must be a laugh but sounds more like a scared animal fleeing a predator. He’s out the door before I can fully process what’s happened.
“Uh…” I try, but can’t come up with anything to say.
“He’s fit, yeah?” She nudges me with her elbow. “You like him?”
“I don’t know,” I reply absently as I search for the clipboard I’ve lost yet again. “I don’t really know him, but he seems nice. A little odd, but nice.”
“Well, you said you’d go out with him. You must like him a bit.”
I start to make a note about how low we are on scarves, but then I freeze. When I turn to face Bo, she’s looking back at me with an expectant smile. I instinctively search for Oleander, but he’s disappeared from my side, his painting struggles forgotten, and is now reorganizing a rack of earrings by the counter.
“Go out? You mean...” My mind instantly supplies the countless books and movies I’ve consumed over the last seventeen years, and how I have absolutely zero real life experience with romance. So little, that I didn’t correlate Finn’s comments to Bo the other day with Finn’s invitation to lunch. I’m such an idiot.
This whole situation is a reminder that human romance is a lot more complicated and dramatic than Anunnaki romance, and I’m not sure I’m cut out for it.
“You’re going on a date. Didn’t you realize?” Bo asks, laughing. It’s playful, but there’s also pity behind the sound. It kind of makes me want to kick her shin.
“Um, I guess I didn’t really think about it. I don’t really...” I shake my head, looking down at the paper with the numbers I’ve just written. They all seem to jumble together.
“Have you never been on a date before?” she asks.
“No,” I respond easily. “Wasn’t really an opportunity. Unless you count my parents, my brother, or the four to fiv
e other strangers I’ve met over the course of my very boring life. Plus, Anunnaki are a lot more casual about all of this stuff. I didn’t realize...” I try to continue, but I feel a turn in my stomach that makes me feel like I might be sick.
“It’s all right,” Oleander says as he approaches me again. He looks sympathetic. “Everyone gets nervous before a date. If you want, we can help you get ready. Help you out with the talking bit.”
“Talking bit?”
“Sure, what to talk about and what to avoid. Standard first date tips.”
“I didn’t realize I was accepting a date,” I say slowly, still trying to figure out what I’m feeling. “I’m not sure I’m interested in that.”
Bo’s eyes grow wide with disbelief.
“A seventeen-year-old not interested in dating?” Bo laughs. “You really are an alien, Charlie.”
“It’s not that I‘m completely opposed to it. It’s just, I don’t have time for that stuff right now,” I reason. “I’ve got so much to learn, and I just want to concentrate on finding Calla.” I stop and turn to Oleander for support. “Is that really so weird?”
He smiles kindly at me and shakes his head.
“Not at all. I think it’s pretty wise, actually.” He places his large, warm hand on my upper shoulder, successfully comforting me. “How are you going to break it to Finn?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a call stone?”
“Sure.” Bo nods. “I can help you with that, but are you sure you don’t want to just go? See what it’s like?”
I think about that for a moment, looking back down at the paper I haven’t really been reading.
The idea of dating hasn’t occurred to me ever since our lives were turned upside down. Sure, the possibility of finding someone to spend time with who isn’t a member of my family and also makes my heart pound a little harder sounds great, but that’s never been possible before. And now, with my situation being what it is, seeking out and cultivating a relationship would probably just distract me from my mission. The last thing I need is to get sidetracked and accidently stab Finn in the stomach too.