by Ally Blue
He laughed, the sound harsh and humorless in the empty room. Anyone else would have some major explaining to do in the morning. Friends, lovers, roommates or study groups to whom they’d have to explain their unexpected absence. He had no one. His family didn’t expect him to call at any particular time, and now the only person in his life who would’ve noticed his disappearance no longer wanted to see him.
The giant hook that seemed to have buried itself in the center of his chest dug in a little bit deeper. He scowled, impatient. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You can’t change the past. All you can do now is try to talk to him, tell him how much you regret what happened, and wait for him to be ready to take you back.
He refused to consider the possibility that Greg truly might not want him back. He knew that might be the case, but his emotions were far too fragile to dwell on it. Besides, the two of them couldn’t have lasted this long if Greg didn’t care about him enough to at least try to get past this.
Right?
Shoving the dark thoughts to the back of his mind, Adrian crossed the room to the door. The moon had already set, and the night was pitch dark. He picked his way down the narrow spiral staircase and across the main hall downstairs by feel in the inky blackness. He left the castle and locked the door behind him, making a mental note to bring a light bulb and a broom with him next time he returned.
The temperature had dropped several degrees in the time Adrian had been in the castle. He zipped his jacket, stuffed his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders against the icy breeze. He started toward his apartment at as brisk a walk as he could manage in the darkness. Then he remembered his bed would be cold and empty, and he slowed down. No point in hurrying when all places were equally lonely now without Greg.
“You’re being ridiculous,” Adrian admonished himself through chattering teeth. “Stop it.”
Since he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about Greg, Adrian decided to analyze Greg’s behavior from the previous afternoon and try to figure out what had been going on in his head. He’d been far too upset at the time to pick up on the small clues which would no doubt shed some light on what had happened. Maybe looking at it now—with a clearer head—would give him some idea as to what had made Greg angry in the first place, and how to approach him.
Adrian did not, however, speed up his pace. He’d rather freeze on the street than be alone in his apartment any sooner than absolutely necessary.
As he strolled along, he reviewed the previous day’s conversation word by word. In spite of the pain it caused, he also conjured the memory of Greg’s face and studied it with as much scientific detachment as he could muster. He noted the discomfort in Greg’s expression when he first said to Greg that he wanted to tell him something he’d never told anyone else, then the swift flash of whatever-it-was that Adrian still couldn’t label but which made his heart beat faster anyway.
When his memory-self assured Greg that he wanted to tell him this and he saw Greg’s expression soften with an unmistakable tenderness, Adrian knew he’d found the crux of the problem. The way Greg’s eyes shone with betrayal for a heartbeat before his face froze at the mention of psychokinesis and portals told Adrian all he needed to know.
He groaned. This explained everything. Greg had thought Adrian was trusting him with an event of major importance from his past, knowledge with which he’d never trusted anyone else. The fact that it was true didn’t matter, in the end. What mattered was what Greg believed. And if Adrian was right, Greg believed Adrian had built him up to a huge revelation, only to feed him a deliberate lie, probably to make him the butt of a particularly bad joke.
Adrian thought he detected Harrison’s fingerprints on Greg’s fears. He wondered how often the bastard had abused Greg’s trust in such a cruel way, and if he’d done it as often as he’d abused Greg physically.
That’s something you have in common with Harrison now. You’ve both hurt Greg physically. Just because you didn’t use your fists doesn’t make what you did okay. Never forget that.
The memory tasted bitter, but Adrian wouldn’t allow himself to shy away from it, no matter how sick it made him. Until the day he died, he needed to remember the flat gleam of terror in Greg’s eyes and the tremor in his voice, as a reminder of what could happen when he lost control.
When he reached Country Club Road, Adrian stopped at the crosswalk, torn. His apartment wasn’t far now, only a couple of blocks away. He looked forward to getting out of the cold, but the idea of facing his lonely apartment didn’t appeal to him any more now than it had fifteen minutes ago.
Another picture floated to the front of his mind—the vision of a stubbled jaw, a tense mouth and a straining neck, a drop of sweat rolling into a soiled white collar embroidered with blue flowers. Maybe he could stop by his place long enough to grab his laptop, then head over to Davis Library and try to figure out why the partial face from Lyndon’s memory struck such a familiar chord. He had no idea where to begin, but that hardly mattered. In fact, he considered it a plus at this point. The mental exercise would fill the long hours until morning brought the campus to life and his day began.
His plan in place, Adrian jogged down the sidewalk toward his apartment. With any luck, by the time classes ended today Greg would be willing to listen to what Adrian had to say.
~ * ~
Unfortunately, Adrian never laid eyes on Greg that day, or the next. He saw Greg at the dining hall Saturday night, looking pale and red-eyed. His phalanx of friends closed ranks around him the instant they spotted Adrian. Sandy shot him a glare that told him beyond a doubt that she, at least, had heard some version of what had happened Wednesday afternoon.
Sighing, Adrian took a tray and loaded a plate without paying any attention to what he was getting. It didn’t matter, since he’d lost his appetite. He sat within sight of Greg, picked at his food and wondered what Greg had told his friends to make them look at him like he was evil incarnate.
While Greg shoved his pasta around his plate, his friends gradually finished eating and drifted away until only Sandy and a boy whose name Adrian couldn’t remember remained at the table. When Greg rose to leave, Adrian jumped up and followed. “Greg. Wait.”
Greg stopped, his back stiff. “I told you to leave me alone.”
Adrian swallowed against the tightness in his throat. “Just…just give me one minute, okay? Just to tell you something. Then I won’t bother you anymore. I promise.” Saying those words hurt, but Adrian had sworn to himself that he’d tell Greg what he needed to then back off. The next step had to be up to Greg, or it meant nothing.
Stepping in front of Greg, the boy—Steve, maybe?—glowered down at him. “He doesn’t want to talk to you. Now fuck off, before I smash your face in.”
“Steven, no.” Greg grabbed Steven’s muscular arm and pulled him away. “I don’t want anyone getting hurt.” Greg turned his troubled gaze to Adrian. “Okay. Let’s talk.”
Adrian licked his lips. “Can…can we talk alone?”
“No.” Sandy crossed her arms. “We’re not leaving him alone with you, asshole.”
“Sandy, don’t.” Greg darted an annoyed look at his friend, then gave Adrian a short nod. “All right.”
He turned back to the table he and his friends had just left, slid into the booth and sat staring at his clasped hands. Adrian sat across from him, heart aching. He hated that he’d done this to Greg, however inadvertently.
“You’re not talking.” Greg twisted his fingers together so hard his knuckles turned white. “Talk.”
“Oh. Right.” Adrian stuck his hands beneath his thighs to keep himself from reaching across the table to touch Greg. “Well, I just wanted to say that… Well, first of all, you can’t possibly know how horribly sorry I am that I let my temper get away with me like I did the other day. Ever since my abilities first manifested, staying in control of myself has been one of the guiding principles of my life. I lost sight of that on Wednesday, and I regret that more than
I can tell you. I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry, that I’ll never, ever let myself forget what I did, and I’ll never let it happen again as long as I live.”
One corner of Greg’s mouth quirked upward. “Never is a long time, Adrian.”
“Maybe. But I can try.” Hope surged in Adrian’s heart when Greg’s expression didn’t change. “I also wanted to say that I think I know why you were so angry with me after I told you…what I told you. But I swear to you—I swear—that everything I said was the complete truth. I wasn’t lying, and I wasn’t making fun of you. For me, it was a huge step to be able to tell you those things. I’ve never trusted anyone enough to tell them about what I can do, or about what happened to me when I was eleven. You’re the first person outside my family who’s ever been that important to me.”
I love you. Adrian longed to say it, but the fear that Greg would think it simply a ploy to win him back stilled his tongue.
Greg closed his eyes. The dark circles underneath them stood out like bruises against the unhealthy pallor of his skin. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
Yes, you do! Ignoring the part of him that wanted to scream until he got what he wanted, Adrian forced his voice to remain soft and calm. “You don’t have to say anything. I know I hurt you, and I know I scared you. I’ll regret it forever, but I can’t change it now. What I can do is give you the time you need to decide what you want to do. I hope you’ll still want to be with me. And I’ll be waiting for you when you’re ready, if that’s what you want. If you don’t…” Adrian’s voice broke. He cleared his throat and made himself go on. “If you don’t want me anymore, I’ll respect that.”
Silence fell. Adrian waited, his stomach churning. After a long moment, Greg opened his eyes and stared into Adrian’s. “I do want to be with you, Adrian. Nothing in the world could make me not want to be with you.”
After nearly three days of sickening uncertainty, this rare moment of blunt truth from Greg felt like a benediction. Adrian planted his elbows on the table and rested his head in his hands as relief left him dizzy. “Thank God. I was so afraid.”
“Adrian. Wait.”
Something in Greg’s voice made the bile rise in Adrian’s throat. He met Greg’s gaze with trepidation. “What?”
Greg gave him a sad smile. “I want to be with you. But I don’t know if I can.”
Adrian’s heartbeat stumbled. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I don’t know if I can do it. Mentally, I mean. Emotionally.” Leaning back in his seat, Greg rubbed the side of his face with one hand. “My arms are bruised where my jacket dug into them, Adrian. I know it sounds stupid since it’s just a couple of bruises, and it was just that one time with you and you’ve always been so good to me, but I can’t help it. I think to myself, what would happen if it wasn’t the only time, but the first time?” He turned his head to stare out the window at the clouds slowly covering the blue sky. “The first time Harrison hit me, I told myself I should overlook it because it was just that once and he’d always treated me great up ’til then. But of course that wasn’t the only time. It was just the first time. After I left him, I promised myself I’d never let there be a second time again.”
Adrian nodded, even though what he wanted was to prostrate himself at Greg’s feet and beg until Greg relented and gave him another chance. “I understand. I won’t bother you anymore.” Sliding to the edge of the booth, Adrian stood. He stuck his hands in his pockets so Greg wouldn’t see how badly they shook. “I’m so sorry, Greg. I’d give anything to take it back. I’d turn back time if I could. And I’ll never, ever forgive myself for ruining the best thing that’s ever happened to me, or for hurting you like I did.”
The tremor in Adrian’s voice reached the breaking point. He snapped his mouth shut, spun and hurried toward the door without looking back.
He made it halfway across the quad before his knees decided he was done walking. Dropping to the ground, he stretched out on his back and contemplated the increasingly gray sky beyond the bare branches above his head. He felt numb. Greg had just broken up with him. He hadn’t run away in anger or misguided fear. No, this was a calm, rational decision. Something to which Greg had clearly given a great deal of thought.
Who could blame him? You hurt him in a fit of anger. Maybe his fear isn’t misguided. Maybe he’s right to be afraid of you. Maybe you’re a potential abuser, just like Harrison, only with powers that let you cause damage without ever laying a finger on a person.
The idea horrified him. He’d never thought of himself as that sort of person. Then again, he’d never before loved anyone outside his family. It seemed counterintuitive to him that his feelings for Greg brought out the worst in him sometimes, but there it was. Maybe being in love simply turned him into a monster. Maybe he was destined to be alone forever.
“I don’t believe that,” he declared aloud, as if trying to convince himself. “I will not believe that.”
Regardless of what he believed, Greg’s decision left Adrian alone now.
An invisible truck parked itself on Adrian’s chest. Squeezing his eyes shut, he pressed his palms to his forehead and drew slow, deep breaths until the urge to scream and sob and rail against the universe passed.
Once he got himself under control, Adrian pushed to his feet and started toward the physics lab. Life didn’t stop, no matter how much he might want it to right now, and he had work to do.
~ * ~
The librarian looked up with a smile when Adrian walked in. “Hello, Adrian. Back again so soon?”
He smiled back automatically, even though he didn’t feel it. “Hi, Mrs. Wickham. Yes, I still have quite a few papers to get through. I have the rest of the afternoon free, so I’m going to stay until closing and get as far as I can, if that’s all right.”
“Of course, dear.” Taking her keycard from the drawer, she walked out from the enclosed desk area. “The machine is free. I doubt anyone will need it. We rarely have any requests to view any of our microfilm collection these days.”
“Well, I’m glad you have it. Otherwise I’d be out of luck. Davis Library has a lot of the town’s newspapers scanned from microfilm into digital, but they haven’t gone back as far as I need yet.”
In the past fifteen days, twenty-one hours and forty-five minutes since Greg had broken up with him—not that he’d been keeping track—Adrian had spent most of his free time researching the sparse clues to Lyndon Groome’s death. With very little idea of what to do, he’d decided to go through all of the Chapel Hill newspapers from the last three months of nineteen-oh-five to see if he could find anything helpful. For the past two days he’d been a fixture here at the Chapel Hill Public Library, skimming through the old newspapers on microfilm in whatever spare time he could scrape together. He hadn’t seen anything interesting yet, but he wasn’t prepared to give up. Lyndon Groome vanished on Halloween. Adrian’s gut told him that if there was anything to be found in the newspapers, it would be in the editions published soon after Lyndon’s disappearance. He’d wanted to read the October papers mostly to see if anything had happened in the days leading up to Lyndon’s disappearance.
He trailed the librarian’s neat salt-and-pepper braid into the rear of the building and waited while she retrieved the film he needed and set it up for him. When she’d finished, she patted him on the shoulder. “There you are, dear. You know how to use the machine, and you know where to find me if you need me.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a more genuine smile than he had when he’d first walked in. “Thank you. You’ve been a huge help to me with this project, and I really appreciate it.”
A faint blush tinged her dark cheeks. “You’re most welcome, Adrian. It’s good to see young people taking an interest in this town’s history.”
Adrian just nodded. Mrs. Wickham was a sweet lady, but she didn’t need to know about his abilities or his precise reasons for wanting to read Chapel Hill’s old newspapers.
She glanced behind h
er at the open door of the microfilm viewing room. “Well. I suppose I should get back to my desk. Let me know if you need anything, dear.”
“I will. Thanks again, Mrs. Wickham.”
She nodded, turned and left, closing the door behind her. Once she was gone, Adrian settled himself in the chair in front of the viewing machine. He set his iPhone on the desk provided in case he needed to take notes, then started scrolling through the November nineteen-oh-five papers.
The moment he saw the few short paragraphs near the back of the November second morning edition, he knew he’d found the missing piece to his puzzle.
November 2, 1905
CHAPEL HILL—According to a police report filed on the afternoon of November 1st, Sir Lionel Groome of Groome Castle was accused of murdering his nephew Lyndon during the Halloween festivities held at the Castle on Halloween night. Lyndon has been a guest at the castle since late spring and is currently attending the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill as an exchange student from Oxford University in England. The Groome family has social and financial connections with both universities and with the town of Chapel Hill going back to the late seventeen hundreds.
Anonymous sources inform this reporter that police have spoken to Sir Lionel but have found no evidence with which to charge him. Lyndon himself has not been seen since Halloween. Sir Lionel has filed a missing person’s report on his nephew and according to my sources appears most distraught. As for the man who accused Sir Lionel of murder, his name is listed on the police report as John Davis. However, many people around town say his name is actually Cassius Wellington. Furthermore, many whisper that Cassius Wellington and Lyndon Groome have been spotted about town in frequent and intimate company. This reporter has to wonder if perhaps friendship turned sour and Cassius Wellington, not Sir Lionel, is the one who knows Lyndon Groome’s fate.
Adrian leaned back in the chair, his heart racing. It was hardly definitive proof, but along with Lyndon’s memories it at least gave him a solid lead to follow.