by Kyoko M
He ran his fingers down the sweating glass bottle. “You’re the exception, trust me. It’s not like I don’t know how. Just don’t see much reason to, not with what I want out of life.”
She studied him for a moment. “You want to make the world a better place. That much I know. But you’re still a part of that world, Jack. You can’t look through a microscope your whole life. You’ll miss what’s really there.”
His mouth suddenly felt alarmingly dry. He swallowed a couple times. “Yeah, I guess so. But maybe—”
“Hey there, gorgeous!” A sandy-haired guy appeared with a broad grin and blue eyes focused intently on Kamala. “Care to dance?”
She glanced him over and a slow smile crawled over her lips. “Sure, but on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
She pointed at Jack. “Find someone to keep him company and I’m all yours.”
“Oh, no problem at all, babe.”
“No, it’s fine, it’s not necessary—” Jack protested, only to be brought a stunning redhead in a royal purple dress.
“This is Kim,” the sandy-haired stranger said. “Junior. Art-history major.”
She smiled. “Hi.”
Jack promptly forgot how to speak English.
Kamala looped one arm through the stranger’s and stifled a giggle before they left. “Back in a bit. Have fun!”
Jack coughed slightly and offered his hand. “Hi, uh. I’m Jack.”
Kim took it. “Jack what?”
“Huh?”
“Your last name, silly.”
“Jackson.”
She blinked at him. “Your name is Jack Jackson?”
He blushed. “No, uh, my first name’s Rhett, but I hate it, so…”
He gestured to the chair and she sat. Her dress rode up several inches, exposing pleasing long lines of creamy skin. “Well, Jack, what’s your field of study?”
“Biological Engineering, Genetics, and Microbiology. Post-doc. I’m working on a research project at the institute.”
“Really? Oh, uh, my apple martini’s getting a little low.”
“I’ve got that, one second.” He scurried to the bar and bought her a fresh one. She sipped and managed to make it look not only seductive but graceful as well.
“What do you want to do after you’re done with the project?” Kim continued.
“Depends on what I find.”
She sent him a simmering smile. “What are you looking for?”
Immediately, Jack’s eyes lit up and his posture straightened. “I started the project with the intention of learning how to increase the reproduction of certain endangered species. I had interest in the idea of cloning, but it proved too difficult based on the research I compiled, so I went into animal genetics and cellular biology. It turns out, the animals with the best potential to combine genes were reptiles, because their ability to lay eggs was a smoother transition into combining the cells to create a new species, or one with a similar ancestry that could hopefully lead to rebuilding extinct animals via surrogate birth or in-vitro fertilization. We’re on the edge of breaking that code, and if we do, it would mean that we could engineer all kinds of life and reverse what damage we’ve done to the planet’s ecosystem.”
Kim stared. “Right. Would you excuse me for a second?”
She wiggled off back to her pack of friends by the bar. Judging by the sniggering and the disgusted glances he was getting, she wasn’t coming back.
Jack sighed and finished off his beer, massaging his forehead. “Yes, brilliant move. You blinded her with science. Genius, Jack.”
He ordered a second one and finished it before he felt smallish hands on his shoulders and a pair of soft lips on his cheek. He turned to find Kamala had returned, her smile unnaturally bright in the black lights glowing over the room. “So… how did it go with Kim?”
He shot her a flat look. “You notice the chair is empty?”
Kamala groaned. “You talked about the research project, didn’t you?”
“No!” She glared at him.
“…maybe…”
“You’re so useless, Jack.” She paused and then tousled his hair a bit. “Cheer up. The night’s still young. I’m not giving up on you.”
He smiled in spite of himself. “Yet.”
Her brown eyes flashed. “Never.”
She grabbed his wrists and hauled him from the seat, dragging him into the writhing swarm of bodies on the dance floor. The dub-step had given way to a surging reggae beat that made the very walls of the club vibrate.
Before he could protest about his lack of rhythm, she tugged him in close and told him to loosen up. Her body may have been small, but the energy coursing through it made her seem so singular. She never missed a beat, swaying, jerking her hips left to right, her mouth wide with a smile, her dark hair fluttering over her cheeks, her hands guiding him to mirror her movements. After a moment or two, he stopped hating the idea of dancing. Another minute and he didn’t mind it. A third minute and he sort of liked it a bit. A fourth minute, and he found himself thinking he could get used to it as long as she was always his partner.
The song ended too soon for his liking, melting into a slow dance that the DJ claimed was part of the classic oldies, something about love making a fool of the singer. Kamala gripped his shirt and tugged him down to her height, still grinning and breathing hard.
“See?” she murmured in his ear. “Maybe you’re fun after all.”
She tugged him off the floor just as everyone paired up for the slow dance, and Jack’s stomach sank a little as he followed. She led him to the bar where Faye was doing what she did best: making men fall over themselves to impress her. There was a towering stack of recently emptied shot glasses beside her, along with a burly twenty-something frat boy, whose stack was slightly smaller.
“Come on, junior!” Faye laughed as the bartender refilled her glass. “I’ve seen freshmen in undergrad take shots better than you.”
“Aw, give me a break, babe,” the guy gasped out after finishing his shot.
“Why should I? There’s got to be someone here who can out-drink me.”
He leaned in with a leering smirk. “What do I get if I beat you?”
Jack bristled and stepped up next to her. “Uh, Faye, how many of these have you had?”
She waved the comment away. “Just a few, Buzz Killington.”
“Since when is twelve a few? I must have missed that day in math class. Look, maybe you should give it a rest for a bit, huh?”
She shot him a glare. “You sayin’ I can’t handle it?”
He took a breath to cool his temper. “I’m saying you don’t have to.”
Her drinking companion scowled then. “Hey, the lady can make her own decisions, man. Back off.”
Jack’s hands formed fists. Kamala pushed through the small throng that had gathered, her voice sharp over the murmurs. “All three of you need to chill out. Faye, you’ve had enough for tonight. Let’s go sit down for a while.”
“Oh, don’t tell me you’re drinking his Kool-Aid, sweetheart,” the big guy said, laying a hand on her shoulder. “She’s tough. She can take it. I’m betting you can too.”
Kamala brushed his hand off. “Keep it up and you’ll find out just what you can take.”
“Is that an invitation?” The hand returned at the small of her back and she batted his arm away, angry.
“Don’t touch me.”
The stranger rolled his eyes and reached for another shot. “God, why do the hot ones always have bitchy best friends?”
The glass had just touched the guy’s lips when Jack’s fist crashed into his chin. His head bounced off the side of the bar and he hit the floor, dazed. A chorus of “oohs” spread through the room like a virus, and Kamala shoved him backward, her eyes wide, mouth agape. “Jack!”
“Call her that again,” he snarle
d over her head. “Please call her that again.”
The frat boy rose to his feet, his left cheek swelling, his face red as a stoplight. Jack shoved Kamala aside as the drunken frat boy threw a sloppy haymaker, flinching as it bounced off his shoulder. He then laid him out flat with a right cross.
By now, the bartender had called the bouncers, who both hauled Jack towards the exit, though he put up no fight after he’d downed the guy. Kamala and Faye followed him to the sidewalk where he was sprawled on his ass after a vicious shove from the bouncer.
“What the hell, Jack?” Kamala shrieked, helping him up. “I mean…no, I was right the first time—what the hell.”
He rolled his shoulder, pulling the collar of his shirt aside to see a bruise already forming. “Shouldn’t have called you a bitch.”
“It’s a word. I’m not a child. I can handle some drunken asshole calling me names.”
He frowned. “Well, I can’t. I’m sorry.”
Kamala sighed. “It’s fine. I’m glad you’re alright.”
She instead whirled on Faye, who was clutching a lamp post to stay upright and staring at Jack as if she’d never seen him before. “And you! You’re going straight to bed to sleep off what has to be an entire gallon of tequila by now.”
“Bed, huh?” Faye grinned, her slightly glazed eyes twinkling. “Can I take Tough Guy with me?”
“Don’t start with me,” Jack growled.
“Maybe I want to,” she purred back.
“Faye,” Kamala said, giving her a shove towards the sidewalk where taxi cabs had already begun to choke the streets. “Not now. Walk.”
“Ugh, lighten up, babe,” Faye said, looping a long arm around her friend’s shoulder and kissing her cheek. “We just had our first bar fight. Best night ever!”
“I’m going to kill you in the morning.”
~ * ~
Why was there an elephant sitting on Jack’s head?
He groaned, long and low, into the pillow. The pain. Dear God, the pain. His temples throbbed in rhythm with his heartbeat and he swore someone had delicately balanced an entire African elephant on his skull. His stomach jostled and threatened to revolt, but he took a couple of deep breaths and the nausea abated. All that was left was the bone-crunching agony reverberating through his head, down his neck, and through his whole body. Which was unnaturally warm for some reason, come to think of it.
After the pain died down enough for his senses to work, Jack realized he was in his bed at home. The sheets smelled faintly of fabric softener and Calvin Klein cologne, the telltale signs. The sheets were halfway down his hips for some reason, though.
He reached to pull the covers over his head so he could properly wallow in his misery, but said arm was occupied. He cracked an eyelid open to figure out why.
Kamala’s adorable sleeping face was inches away. Her head rested on the crook of his arm, which served as an impromptu pillow. Jack paled so quickly that he got dizzy.
“Relax,” a female voice murmured. “You’re not awesome enough for a threesome, Jack.”
His head popped up from the pillow only to discover Faye lying behind Kamala, smiling smugly at the utter confusion on his face.
“Wha?” He paused, trying to remember how to talk. “Do I even want to know?”
She chuckled. “Maybe.”
She nodded towards Kamala, and Jack finally realized why he felt so warm. She had folded her small body into his, one arm dangling over his waist beneath the covers, the other tucked beneath her side.
He started to scoot away, but she made a noise of protest and snuggled closer, tucking her head under his neck for warmth. He blushed and kept still this time, glancing at the amused look on her roommate’s face. “Ah. How?”
“Kamala drove us here,” Faye said, propping her head up on one arm. Her hair was up in a ponytail, and curling strands escaped to rest on her temple and nape. The other arm rested protectively on her best friend’s hip—a clear statement, if Jack ever saw one. Conversely, her body language practically radiated calm, like a blonde well-fed tiger. The analogy felt about right, since he sensed that she might tear his throat out by the end of the day.
“We iced down your shoulder and started the Family Guy drinking game with tequila shots. You know, drink every time there’s a pointless cutaway gag or an 80’s reference. Two episodes in and we were pretty much trashed. Kamala dozed off first, then you, and I didn’t feel like taking the bus home, so I crawled in with you.”
“Right,” he said, licking his dry lips. “Anything else I missed?”
“No. But I think I misjudged you.”
He stared. “You’re kidding.”
She shrugged a shoulder. “What? You’re a textbook nerd. I sure as shit wouldn’t have guessed you could fight.”
Her eyes lit up then. “Speaking of which, where’d that come from?”
Jack exhaled. “Aren’t you worried we’re gonna wake her up?”
Faye gave her friend a smack on the butt. Kamala mumbled something in Hindi and didn’t stir. “She sleeps like the dead. We’re safe. Now spill.”
“Grew up on a farm. Never put on any muscle. I’ve always been wiry. Got picked on sometimes. Got into a couple fights. Old man didn’t want his kid being bullied, so he taught me how to throw and take a punch.”
She paused. “How to take a punch?”
Jack shrugged, but his eyes said what his posture didn’t. “Is what it is. I don’t like to broadcast it.”
“No shit. Two hits and the guy was down. Remind me never to piss you off.”
He smirked. “Like that’s ever stopped you before.”
She matched the smirk. “Point taken, farmboy.”
The amusement faded and she gestured towards his shoulder. “Sorry about last night. You were right. I was out of line.”
He shook his head. “Lost my temper anyhow. Forget it.”
“So,” she said, narrowing her eyes slightly. “You gonna tell her how you feel?”
Jack didn’t back down from her frostbite stare. “Are you?”
She stopped breathing for a second. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” he murmured.
Faye clenched her jaw. “Where do you get off thinking you know anything about how I feel?”
“Same place you do, apparently.”
Her breathing spiked, and for a moment, he thought she’d swing on him, but she cursed under her breath and held back. She closed her eyes for a while instead. “How long have you known?”
“Few months.”
“And you didn’t say anything.”
Again, he shrugged. “None of my business.”
She snorted, glancing at Kamala. “Can’t believe she’s fucked us both up. Figuratively speaking, of course.”
Jack choked on a laugh. “Of course.”
She met his gaze again. “You love her?”
“Dunno,” he whispered. “Never been in love. You?”
“Maybe. Been in enough relationships to know what it isn’t. Too chickenshit to find out for the moment. I guess you could say I’m waiting to see what happens.”
“Well, between you, me, and the wallpaper, I think you’ve got a better shot than I do.”
“Ha. You wouldn’t say that if you knew how she talked about you when you’re not around.”
His brows lifted. “She talks about me?”
Faye rolled her eyes. “God, are all men this thick or is it just you? You’ve spent a year seeing her almost every day. Your work is what got her back on track. She thought about giving up on her career before she found your project, Jack.”
He frowned down at the dark-haired pixie before him. “I…didn’t know that. She’s always so fearless. I figured she knew from the get-go what she wanted.”
“No one ever does. Why should she be any different?” Faye tucked a lock of hair behind Kamala’s ear and listene
d to her sigh. “I don’t know where this is gonna go. I don’t. And we both have a lot to lose, but…maybe you should say something. She can’t stay in the dark forever. It’s not fair.”
“Easier said than done.”
Faye smiled, a little sadly this time. “That’s love, Stilts.”
Before he could say anything else, she leaned across Kamala and kissed Jack full on the mouth.