by Danika Stone
“Excuse me, pardon me. Coming through.” Her jaw clenched. “Move!”
Finally, she reached a wall. She leaned against it, panting. Her eyes roamed the room. No friends, just “others” who filled the classes she attended. Her gaze returned guiltily to the dance floor. Xander shone like a beacon: an out-of-time character in a sea of nameless extras. As Liv watched, he swept Arden across the floor. She threw her arms over his shoulders, pulling him down to meet her lips. Liv couldn’t look away. The embrace could have been from an old Hollywood movie. Xander dipped Arden low, her hair a waterfall of silver draping over his arm to brush the floor.
With a resigned sigh, Liv looked away. She plodded to the coat check to retrieve her coat and purse, then stepped outside. It was snowing again.
“Just my luck.”
The cold settled into her limbs as she stomped her way to the bus stop, her mood dropping with the degrees. There was only one thing that could match her emotions: Starveil Five.
5
“THIS IS MY TIMEY-WIMEY DETECTOR. IT GOES DING WHEN THERE’S STUFF.”
(DOCTOR WHO)
It was three a.m., but Liv couldn’t sleep. She dabbed tears from her eyes and restarted the streaming vid. The Starveil theme rose, the opening sequence appearing amid a barrage of music. Spartan appeared, grinning broadly at the camera. Seeing him, her sobs redoubled, fresh tears tumbling down her cheeks. If she could just go back to this moment when she’d seen it in the theater, she could believe it would all be okay. But she knew how it ended. How Spartan died. The pain was unbearable, and yet she couldn’t stop watching.
She hit Pause, then grabbed a wad of tissues to blow her nose. She reached to hit Play at the same time her phone buzzed. She frowned as she read the screen.
* * *
Mid-February brought an explosion of work. Although Liv’s life revolved around Spartan’s survival, the universe seemed indifferent to the amount of work on her plate. Her sociology professor believed in research. Not doing it per se, just digesting it. Liv had never read such tiresome articles. And it was for this reason alone, she assured herself, that as midterms neared, she’d started to make small talk with the people around her.… A behavior decidedly not her norm.
Liv wasn’t good at making friends. (Not in real life at least.) But in sociology the blond guy with the plaid jacket and the “Save the Trees” button walked up to her when the professor forced them to work in groups to dissect yet another theory on social status. Seeing the man’s hiking boots and broken-down jeans, granola was the first word that went through her mind. But as soon as he looked up, another word replaced it: Spartan! The man could’ve been his twin.
“Great to meet ya,” Granola said cheerfully. “I’m Hank.” He held out his hand and gave her a blinding grin. He was so blond, his teeth so white and even, Liv was momentarily stunned. He really could be Spartan’s taller, younger brother. The thought left her breathless.
She gave his hand a cursory shake. The toothpaste-ad smile carried on and on. He’d definitely had braces at some point, Liv decided. And maybe highlights, too. You weren’t just born looking like that. Were you?
“Sorry, I never caught your name,” Granola said. If he wasn’t staring right at her, she would have assumed he was talking to someone else.
“Oh, right. I’m L-Liv,” she stammered.
“As in Olivia?”
“No, Liv. Just Liv.” The floor didn’t open up and swallow her, but she wished it would.
“Well, it’s great to meet you, Just Liv,” he said with another enthusiastic nod. He pulled out the chair next to him and tossed his bag onto the floor. “Grab a seat!”
His bag, Liv noted, had a TAKE ONLY PHOTOS, LEAVE ONLY FOOTPRINTS sticker on the side. Liv rolled her eyes and wondered what sarcastic comment Xander would come up with if he saw her wearing it.
Granola leaned in, and Liv automatically recoiled. It was a natural reaction. People who looked like him didn’t talk to people like her. But Granola didn’t seem to notice. “Looks like we’re stuck together for the next while,” he said in a stage whisper. “Hope that’s okay with you, Liv.” He winked, but unlike Xander, it didn’t feel like a punch line. This time it felt like flirting.
Liv peered over her shoulder. No one else there.
She turned back.
“Do I have a choice?” She winced at the sharpness of her tone.
“Probably not. Profs like this like being in control.” Another grin. “We could do sociological research on them.” He laughed at his own joke, and Liv smiled warily.
“Um … yeah. But I don’t think she’d sign off on it. Ethics and all that.”
“Probably not, but if she did, she’d assign it as reading to her next class.”
“Of course she would,” Liv snorted.
Granola leaned forward, pointing his pencil toward the professor, who was handing out photocopies of the assignment. “Here we can observe the common Colorado professor, genus Academia professorantus in her natural environment,” he whispered. “She gathers her clippings the way animals gather twigs for a nest, sharing them with dogged determination.”
Usually, Liv ignored people, but Hank’s outgoing nature broke through her sense of self-preservation. By the time the papers were spread throughout the classroom, Liv was the one grinning as Hank made jokes. As impossible as it seemed, his smile had even grown by a few kilowatts until his face practically glowed.
“I’ll carry my share,” he added as the professor started up the projector. “Don’t you worry. I’m not a slacker.”
“I didn’t think you were.”
“Wasn’t sure. You never talk to anyone in class.” He grinned again. Perhaps, Liv thought, there were some people who just didn’t know how to be awkward. She definitely wasn’t one of them. “You just seem really focused.”
“About some things, I guess.”
“I love sociology,” he said. “Want to be a social worker someday, or maybe do some volunteer work overseas. You know. Change the world. How about you?”
“I—I…” But other than her occasional daydream of escaping the doldrums of Colorado, the only answer that came to mind was her #SpartanSurvived project, and there was no way she was going to admit to that. “I’m a freshman, so right now I’m just trying to get through the year without a meltdown.”
“Fair enough. But what gets you riled up? What’s your passion? Your dream?”
“I don’t…” Liv felt her cheeks begin to burn. She had no idea how to talk to strangers without a tech interface. She was 100 percent sure Granola did not follow the Starveil story line, and that made her feel even more exposed. “I’ve never really thought about it,” she answered lamely.
“But there have to be things that get you going,” Granola prompted. “The arts? Human rights? Feminism?”
Liv was saved by the professor starting her presentation. The lights in the classroom dimmed in response, and then all Liv could see was Hank’s smile, a Cheshire cat in the darkness.
“Tell me when you think of it,” he whispered. “I’d love to hear.”
“Okay,” Liv choked.
The half circle of his smile grew dim and then faded altogether as the professor started to speak. Liv lifted her pen, ready for notes. Her mind buzzed. What was she passionate about, other than Starveil?
Someday she’d have an answer for Hank, but it certainly wasn’t today.
* * *
The semester slowly crawled past. Sociology became the class Liv looked forward to the most (subject matter notwithstanding). It was clear Liv’s inability to come up with a “defining passion”—or one she could admit to—wasn’t going to be an issue. Hank was passionate about everything. And that left her out of sorts. She found herself doing bizarre things: giggling like a moron when he made a joke, touching his arm for no apparent reason, walking with him to the student union building during break to grab coffee, and, worse yet, dreaming about him at night. Hormones, it seemed, were making a much-delayed ap
pearance in her life.
Liv was horrified.
“My brain is making me crazy,” she told Xander after their Wednesday-night film class. They’d watched Nosferatu, and Liv felt sympathy for the vampire in the film, at the mercy of his uncontrollable bloodlust. “I just need it to stop overthinking everything. To just turn off and chill about things.”
“Is this about Spartan again?” Xander groaned. “I thought you’d dealt with that, Liv.”
He wore tails tonight, and he slid on the silk jacket slowly, smoothing it over his chest. Liv, with her oversize parka and long knit scarf, felt like a hobo next to his old-world perfection, no matter how many odd looks passersby gave him.
“I wish it was. This is something else.” They walked down the hallway side by side, the rush of students moving past in a steady stream. “I think I’ve got a … fixation.”
Xander raised a brow. “Opium, I hope.”
She swatted him with the end of her scarf. “Hardly, I—”
“Cocaine perhaps? No, wait! Absinthe. It has to be absinthe.” They reached the door, and he tugged it open, a blast of icy mountain air hitting Liv in the face. “All the best delinquents—and nineteenth-century artists—are drinking it.”
“Stop it, Xander.” She burrowed her nose into her scarf as they headed out into the winter night. “I’m, well, I’m…” She stole a nervous look at him. “Obsessing over a boy.”
Xander grinned. “Liv, dearest, Spartan has been my dear companion for these many long months—”
“It’s not Spartan.”
His eyes widened. “Really?”
“Yes, really.”
His pace didn’t slow, but his smile faded until he stared at her in apparent confusion. “As in a real-life boy? Like … a live one.”
“Flesh and blood.”
He tapped a gloved finger against his lips. “Will wonders never cease.”
Cheeks burning, she punched his shoulder rather than answer. “Careful of the jacket,” he tutted. “It’s raw silk, dearest. The fabric alone cost me a month of tips.”
“You’re not funny, Xander.”
“I am, but that aside, I’m … Well, I suppose I’m a bit surprised.”
Liv glared at him. “Why?”
“Because you’ve never been attracted to anyone who wasn’t fictional before.” He smirked. “So what happened?”
“Nothing.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Honestly. There’s nothing to tell.”
“Liar.”
“Okay, there’s a little bit to tell, but not much.”
“I don’t care how little,” Xander said, waving her concerns away. “I want to know what’s happening.”
By the time they reached the end of the parking lot, she’d done a recap of the sociology project, and late-night work on Bristol board, and Hank’s obsession with double-checking references, and his summer volunteering for an equal-pay-for-equal-work focus group. Xander seemed a little quieter than usual—certainly not his usual outgoing self—but Liv was relieved to have him to confide in. She just wished she knew what he was thinking.
“I’ve never had a serious boyfriend,” Liv sighed. “I mean I dated one guy when I was in high school, but that was different. It was just a teen thing. We hardly even kissed, never mind did anything else.”
Xander stared at her. “Are you joking?”
“No. He just…” Liv squirmed. “I don’t know. He didn’t seem interested.”
“Mmph. Too bad for him.”
“But this thing with Hank feels just different, you know? Like it might go somewhere.”
Xander opened the passenger door for Liv before heading to the driver’s side and climbing into the frozen car. He started the engine. It whined and moaned, the two of them forced to sit in the icebox while the fan struggled to spread heat through the air. For a long time, Xander stared out the window, frowning.
“I know you’re thinking something,” Liv said. “So you might as well say it.”
Xander rubbed his gloved hands rather than look at her. “I’m not actually.”
“You are.”
He didn’t answer.
“So … what would you do?” Liv asked.
“You should do whatever you want.”
“But what if you were me?” Liv said. “What would you do then?”
Xander sighed. “I suppose I’d probably ask him out.”
“But I can’t do that!” Liv gasped. “Dating’s stressful. I’d have to dress up.”
Xander gave an exaggerated sigh as he popped the car into drive and eased it onto the snowy streets. “My dear Liv, I’ve dated plenty, and I honestly think it comes down to mind over matter.”
“Please don’t give me that stupid ‘if it doesn’t mind, then it doesn’t matter’ line.”
Xander chuckled. “I don’t think that particularly applies to dating. You should mind what someone does. But you shouldn’t let your fear stop you.” He slowed for a passing truck, then turned off campus and onto the main drive. “If I never went onstage when I was scared, I’d never act. If I never asked someone out if I thought they’d say no, I’d always be alone.” He nudged her with his elbow, though his eyes stayed on the road. “If I never trusted you could make me into an Internet sensation, I’d never be the star of a YouTube video with half a million hits.”
Liv sighed. “I just … I don’t think I can.”
“It’s up to you whether you want to try or not, but you’ve got to decide what you want from life. You’re a freshman. You should be living a bit.” He grinned. “Granola sounds nice, albeit a bit boring.”
“I should never have told you that nickname,” she grumbled.
“I think it’s a lovely nickname.” He laughed. “Fitting even.”
“Xander … that’s just mean.”
He snorted rather than answering.
Liv stared out the window as they drove. Xander was an actor. It was easy for him. But the thought of asking Hank out left her panicked.
Xander cleared his throat, drawing Liv back to the present. “What’s on your mind, Liv?”
“What if I ask him and he says no?”
“He’d be stupid to do that.” Xander patted her hand. A tiny gesture, but it nearly brought her to tears. “Trust me. It’ll work out.”
“How do you know?”
His smile faded into something softer. Sadder, Liv thought afterward.
“Because you deserve to be happy,” he said quietly, and then the light changed, and they drove on. Just the two of them, one warm car, in an endless swath of night.
“Maybe,” Liv whispered.
6
“MY ‘PEOPLE SKILLS’ ARE ‘RUSTY.’”
(SUPERNATURAL)
@StarVeilBrian1981: @LivOutLoud Have you heard the news, Liv?
@LivOutLoud: @StarVeilBrian1981 News?
@StarVeilBrian1981: @LivOutLoud There’s a rumor #SpartanSurvived isn’t Grander at all. It’s MRM!
@LivOutLoud: @StarVeilBrian1981 Doubt it, Brian.
@StarVeilBrian1981: @LivOutLoud But what better way to prop up a sagging fandom? It’s the perfect plan to create a surge of popularity!
@LivOutLoud: @StarVeilBrian1981 It’s a good theory. I just don’t think that’s it.
@JoesWoes: @LivOutLoud @StarVeilBrian1981 I’m with Brian on this.
@LivOutLoud: @JoesWoes @StarVeilBrian1981 Maybe … maybe not. ;)
@JoesWoes: @LivOutLoud I think MRM killed Spartan on purpose, then started #SpartanSurvived. Think about it-fandom’s together like it never was before.
@StarVeilBrian1981: @JoesWoes @LivOutLoud Only one way to know for sure.
@LivOutLoud: @JoesWoes @StarVeilBrian1981 And that is?
@StarVeilBrian1981: @JoesWoes @LivOutLoud Have to ask him personally.
@LivOutLoud: @JoesWoes @StarVeilBrian1981 Well, I don’t live in LA, so that’s not an option.
@JoesWoes: @LivOutLoud @StarVeilBrian1981 Neither do I, but that’s not the on
ly place you can talk to MRM.
@StarVeilBrian1981: @JoesWoes @LivOutLoud You still thinking about this summer, Joe?
@JoesWoes: @StarVeilBrian1981 @LivOutLoud Better than thinking. I’m saving for it! Liv, you should think about coming too.
@LivOutLoud: @JoesWoes @StarVeilBrian1981 Coming where?
@JoesWoes: @LivOutLoud @StarVeilBrian1981 To Atlanta. MRM just announced he & cast will do the con circuit this summer. Dragon Con is top of the list.
@LivOutLoud: @JoesWoes @StarVeilBrian1981 Er … probably not.
@JoesWoes: @LivOutLoud @StarVeilBrian1981 C’mon, Liv. It’d be a fun escape from RL.
@LivOutLoud: @JoesWoes @StarVeilBrian1981 Wish I could, but I can’t. I just don’t see it happening.
@StarVeilBrian1981: @LivOutLoud @JoesWoes Never say never.
* * *
“My God, I look like Tom Hiddleston in this!” Xander laughed.
“Better than Hiddleston,” Liv said.
“Better?”
“You look like one of the Starveil cast. You’re gorgeous!”
“Gorgeous, hmm? I do like the sound of that.” Xander squinted at the screen. “Who did you say made this?”
“StarVeilBrian1981. He’s been in the fandom forever. He’s got mad Photoshop skills.”
Xander glared down the length of his nose. “I meant his given name, Liv. Not his username. Good lord, I’d never remember StairMaster Nine—”
“StarVeilBrian1981.” Liv giggled. “And his first name is Brian.”
“Well, tell Brian I’m very impressed.”
“Oh! I can’t.”
Xander looked up from the screen. “Why not?”
“No one knows I’m behind Spartan Survived.”
“Really?”
She gave a one-shouldered shrug. “It just seemed simpler that way.”
Xander nodded. “I guess that could work.”
“What do you mean work?”