by Alex Silver
Aaron and Caleb leapt back from the table. I stood in shocked silence for a beat.
“Are you guys all right?” I asked.
“Whoops, my bad,” Caleb said.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Aaron said, with a hesitant chuckle. Nervous relief. Caleb and I joined in with snickers of our own once it was clear breakfast was the only casualty of their mishap.
Elliott doubled over, busting a gut laughing at the chaos. We all turned to look at him, but he continued to crack up, wiping tears from his eyes. He leaned on the back of his chair, his mirth leaving him off balance.
“Sorry,” he gasped through gales of laughter.
“It’s not that funny,” Caleb said, but he sounded more affectionate than put out at the destruction.
“It was hilarious,” Elliott said when he reined himself in. “Thanks, I needed that.”
“I live to serve,” Aaron said.
“Glad you appreciate all the effort I put into crafting a delicious breakfast for you,” Caleb said, tone dry.
“You know I love your cooking,” Elliott said. “But the looks on your faces when it came flying at you. Ha! Oh man, maybe having another TK around won’t be so bad, if you guys pull more stunts like that. Priceless.”
“Yeah?” Caleb asked.
“Sure,” Elliott gulped in a deep breath then turned to address Aaron. “I guess I owe you an apology. I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier, I haven’t been handling this well.”
“Hey, it’s no problem, Elliott. I didn’t consider how much trouble I’ve caused for you. I know how hard it is to be apart from your link. So, I’ll try to cut you some slack.”
“Right. So, friends?” Elliott shocked all of us by offering Aaron a hand to shake. Aaron searched his face before touching his fingers to Elliott’s. Elliott flinched, but he didn’t draw back.
“Friends,” Aaron said. He let his hand drop first. And Elliott relaxed.
Watching their auras interact through touch for the first time was like watching a pair of spitting, hissing alley cats come to a truce. They slid past each other, not ready to mix, but at a temporary detente in their territory dispute. It made me smile.
“Do you think we can salvage the food?” Aaron asked.
“The carafe shattered,” Caleb said, standing and using his TK to sweep the food toward the trash. “We can’t even compost it with shards of glass in it. No way am I letting any of you eat it now.”
“We need to get back for the morning sessions at the tower anyway,” I said.
“Rain check?” Aaron said, sounding tentative. Uncertainty was uncharacteristic of him, but I guess the conflict with Elliott had him on edge.
“Sure, you guys have tomorrow off, right? Come over for movies when you get done tonight, you can stay in the guest room for real this time, Aaron, and we’ll have brunch in the morning. Does that work for everyone?” Caleb said. Taking charge of the situation as usual.
“Sounds good,” Aaron said.
“We’ll be here,” I said.
“Works for me,” Elliott said. And for once he sounded like he meant something where it concerned Aaron.
Aaron said his goodbyes, he and Caleb had come up with some complicated secret handshake which they performed before Aaron and Elliott said a cordial, if distant, see you later.
I waited until Aaron was putting on his shoes to say a more intimate goodbye. Elliott clung for a moment longer after I released him. He kissed my cheek again, but he smiled when I stepped back toward the door.
“See you tonight, Jay.”
“Love you, thanks for giving him a chance, El. You don’t know how much that means to me.”
“I have an idea,” Elliott said. Then he grinned at me, and I thought things might work out between him and Aaron.
Chapter 9
Aaron
Going to Caleb and Elliott’s place was becoming familiar. I liked watching Jake interact with the pair. Caleb told me the word to describe our relationship. Metamour, the lover of my lover.
I found it strange to think about language describing aspects of my lovelife that I had never considered before. But Elliott and Caleb made him happy, and that made me happy. There was a word for that too. Compersion. Besides, Caleb was among my closest friends outside of SPIRE these days. Even Elliott greeted me with an amicable smile.
Tonight’s plan was for Elliott and I to have quality time while Caleb and Jake entertained mutual friends at the apartment.
I had concerns about Elliott’s acceptance of me in his life. But considering we were all supposed to be looking at apartments soon, we needed to get past the perpetual awkwardness between us. In the abstract, I welcomed that next step, living with them. But if Elliott could only tolerate my presence in small doses, no amount of good intentions would salvage our planned living arrangements.
Elliott was ready to go when we arrived. He greeted Jake and I at the door. Jake received a sunny smile coupled with a lingering kiss.
Caleb joined us in the entryway too, he and I exchanged our goofy handshake. It made me feel accepted. Like he and I were friends now, a relationship separate from his and Jake’s connection.
The display confirmed that we were friends in our own right now. Separate from our relationships with Jake. It represented another step toward a future with Jake. The interaction between our auras had adapted too. The start of a casual link forming between Caleb and I. His presence had gone from a changeable vague pleasantness to a comforting calm when we touched.
Elliott tolerated my presence. Albeit with a much better grace than he had displayed earlier. We had spent little time one-on-one though. I hoped our evening together would give us a basis for a deeper friendship. I wanted to get to know him.
He was important to Jake, and I wanted to understand that. See Elliott the way Jake and Caleb saw him. Well, perhaps not so intimate a view. But to know him as a friend.
“You ready?” I asked Elliott when he relinquished his grip on Jake.
“Yes, where are we going?” Elliot asked.
“Don’t you want it to be a surprise?”
“No, I’m not the biggest fan of surprises to be honest.”
“Okay then, I was thinking since you like superhero movies we could check out this comic book shop downtown. And there’s a restaurant close by that’s like a sports bar, but for video games. If that appeals?”
Elliott looked wary, “does it have a vegetarian menu? And I don’t mean just salad.”
“Oh, yeah, I checked the menu, they have a bunch of stuff. Veggie burgers, some pasta dishes, I think veggie burritos? Something like that? Plus loads of veggie based apps and sides. But if you hate it, we can do something else.”
Elliott gave me a long appraising look, “you put consideration into this, huh?”
“Well, yeah. It’s our first friend-date, I’m supposed to impress you, right?”
“Okay then, let’s go,” Elliott said, but his demeanor thawed and a modicum of my nervous energy faded.
I intended to rock this friend-date. Show Elliott I thought of other people. That I wasn’t the selfish jerk he seemed to think I was. Elliott swept past me into the hallway.
“Have fun,” Caleb called after us. Jake chuckled at the abrupt departure, I scrambled to follow Elliott.
Then the door shut. So began my quality one-on-one time with Elliott. I could do this. I would do this.
Elliott showed no signs of stopping or accommodating for my shorter stride, so I had to jog to keep up with him. Great. Off to an auspicious start.
Still, the elevator would slow him down, give me a breather, but Elliott blew right past the elevator and took the stairs. I considered my options, then followed him into the stairwell.
“What’s wrong with the elevator?” I huffed as I struggled to keep pace.
“Don’t like enclosed spaces, sorry,” Elliott said, he didn’t sound sorry. But he didn’t sound like he was trying to antagonize me either.
“Can you slow down?
”
“Oh, sorry,” Elliott said again. He slowed his pace, waiting on the landing between floors for me to catch up.
“No need to apologize,” I said, I meant it as a peace offering. Elliott frowned.
“Right.”
I caught up to him and we resumed the walk to the car. Elliott held the door to the stairwell for me. I returned the favor as we exited the building. We didn’t talk, other than to point out which car was mine.
I was glad that all the training at SPIRE let me mute my EK senses to where I could manage driving again. At first it had been overwhelming. With all the little whirring inputs the car gave off.
Now I had adapted to the point I didn’t even need Jake’s presence to stabilize me when I was behind the wheel. I was glad, because driving gave me something to focus on other than the weirdness between Elliott and I.
Once I had pulled into traffic, my GPS set to navigate, I braved the silence.
“So, this is weird, right?”
“Awkward,” Elliott said.
“Yeah. I mean, it’s like being set up on a date by well-meaning friends or something.”
“It is.”
“So, I wonder what Jake and Caleb are up to?”
“Tess, Lynn, Jess and Em should be there soon. They’re having a LAN party.”
“That’s Caleb’s big plan for tonight?” I had to suppress a laugh. Caleb was a huge geek, but I had expected something more glamorous than a video game night when he mentioned having a party.
“Yeah, he and Tess bonded over this zombie mod to a popular FPS, so they get together to shoot zombie hoards at least once a month. It’s amusing to see how into it they all get. Even Jake.”
“Jake always preferred sports games when we were kids.”
“Still does,” Elliott said, “but he’s not half bad at other stuff. It’s sort of their thing.”
“You don’t like gaming?” I asked. If he hated video games, then that made my careful planning less thoughtful. I’d just figured the sheer number of games in the living room had to mean they all liked gaming.
“Oh, no, I like it. Just, not as much as them. And I’m not a great player, so it gets frustrating. It seems like I’m dragging down their progress when I join in sometimes. It’s less pressure to play single player stuff. The classics, you know?”
“Yeah, I get that. I’m more of an old school game fan myself. Give me Zelda or Mario any day, right?”
“Yeah.”
Out of the corner of my eye I caught Elliott smiling at me. A small gesture, but that smile represented a crack in the aloof facade.
“So, getting back to the date analogy, do we do the whole first date thing with the excruciating small talk and family history stuff or you want to skip it?”
“What you mean you don’t want to hear my hopes and dreams for the future? Or learn the names of my extended family and pretend to be interested in boring anecdotes about my childhood?” Elliott said. His tone was dry as dust, but there was an underlying humor.
“Uh… is that a trick question?”
Elliott huffed out a laugh, “no. But there isn’t much to tell. I lived at ESPY—the East Seattle Psion Youth shelter—as a teenager, right? That was what they called it before Pederson Youth Development Center bought it.”
“Right, I knew about PYDC. I think Jake mentioned it.”
“So, that was home. I liked it well enough. Made good friends there. My parents weren’t interested in raising a telepath, the last time I saw them was when I was twelve and hospitalized for emergence complications.”
“That sucks. My parents said they were fine with my telekinesis. They sent me to boarding school for psions, paid for my education, which I appreciate. But they washed their hands of me when I ended up on the news after everything that happened with SPIRE. I guess it was too much for them to have their son in the public eye as ‘a radical’—their words, not mine.”
“That sounds harsh.”
“Mom thinks being a psion and is a lifestyle choice, and I guess wanting the same civil rights she has is a lifestyle she can’t abide.” I rolled my eyes. Elliott snorted.
“My mom was holding my hand when they gave us the diagnosis. It was the strangest feeling, I didn’t understand it, but her touch on my hand made my skin crawl. And then the doctor told her what I was, and I got the clearest reading from her ‘inhuman monster, no son of mine’ that’s what she thought I was. She jerked her hand away like I’d burned her.”
“That sounds awful.”
“It was no picnic,” Elliott shrugged. “Anyway, foster care was a mixed bag for me. Some placements were better than others. When it got too bad, I ran away. Tried my luck on the streets, didn’t fare too well, so I crawled back to my caseworker and he got me in with ESPY. That placement stuck until I aged out.
“I started at UDub after highschool, got my undergrad in biology. I considered being a doctor, but telepaths don’t do well touching people. So admissions take psionic status into account with their decisions.
“I started on a master’s degree in public health while I applied. A few failed rounds of med school applications and a MPH later, I’m starting on my PhD in epidemiology this term. So far, I like it. You?”
“PhD, huh? Jake said you and Caleb were smart, so I guess that shouldn’t surprise me. Sounds interesting.”
“You mean boring.”
“No, it doesn’t sound boring at all, Elliott. Tell me more about it. Do you have a particular area of interest?”
“It’s too soon to specialize much, I’m still taking the required courses. But I want to focus on the epidemiology of Pre-Emergence Psionic Syndrome. Try to work toward making PEPS and emergence less dangerous.”
“That sounds fantastic.”
“It’s a lofty goal. We have seen little improvement in morbidity or mortality rates in decades. I did my master’s thesis on Cereflux. My work so far looked at outcomes data. I surveyed peri-emergent psions and their loved ones. I assessed perceptions, acceptance and satisfaction relating to the procedure. We even held focus groups at Mount Hope, an anchor who works there facilitated the whole thing. Our conclusion was that Cereflux helps, but only with early and accurate PEPS diagnosis. And only if the target population can access it.
“Tell me about it,” I said, remembering my own terrifying experience with PEPS.
“So, that’s me, in a nutshell. What about you?”
“Like I said, my parents were more about the optics of having a kid than dealing with me. So, they paid for Cereflux and quietly packed me off to Connecticut. Out of sight out of mind, I guess. I didn’t hear from them much after that. I got involved volunteering at a PYDC center though. It made me want to be a social worker. My parents made it plain that the bank of Mom and Dad would only remain open if I attended the university of their choosing, so I went to Yale.
“Got a degree in psychology. They didn’t offer a social work program, so I applied to UDub for a master’s in social work. That’s why I came back to Seattle in June. I figured it would give me time to get settled here.
“Then everything fell apart between my electrokinesis, SPIRE and the camp shutting down early. I had to defer my enrollment, but working with SPIRE means I won’t get to pursue the degree or the career I wanted.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“It is what it is,” I shrugged. “My intention was to work with young psions, make their lives better. I figure I can still do that. By keeping tabs on SPIRE and preventing anything like the recruitment scandal from happening again. And SPIRE offers outreaches to places like ESPY, so I can still get that mentoring role I hoped for, right?”
“Sure,” Elliott said. When I glanced over at him though, he was regarding me with a speculative look. Like I had surprised him. I tried not to read too much into it. A task made easier by downtown traffic since we were nearing our destination.
The places I wanted to go were an easy walk from the tower, so I parked in the attached garage.
“What are we doing here?” Elliott asked, arms crossed in defiance.
“Just parking. It’s cheaper and easier than finding other options downtown. Is that all right?”
“It’s fine, I guess,” Elliott relented. He followed me to the bank of elevators. I used my key fob to access the stairs since I wasn’t about to force him onto the elevator when he was already ill at ease.
“Has Jake told you much about Finn?” I asked, making small talk.
“Finn?”
“Yeah, they’re a teen from the summer camp. Anyway, they opted for a career with SPIRE once the dust settled. So they’re in Jake and my training class. Pyrokinetic classification. And since we’re the only two grade A’s, Finn and I spend most of the abilities training sessions together. Kid follows me around the tower like an adorable puppy. Anyway. My point is, if you see a floppy-haired teenager come bounding up to us, that’s them. Be nice?”
“I’m always nice,” Elliott said.
I snorted, “sure, to people who aren’t me, maybe.”
Elliott winced, “I thought I’ve been doing better.”
“You have, you’ve been much more welcoming. I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. But we’re talking about moving in together and you can’t stand to touch me.”
“Do we need to touch?”
“Well, no. I guess not. But we’re both psions. So it would feel more comfortable for all of us if you and I can do more than tolerate each other’s continued existence,” I said. I swung open the lobby door for him.
“Oh? How much more were you thinking?”
“We could start with sitting together on the couch. Or like, passing the salt at the dinner table.”
“You have TK, no contact required for moving objects around,” Elliott pointed out, innocuous.
“You know what I mean.”
“I don’t. What do you want from me, Aaron? I like my family the way it is. I don’t want to be BFFs with Jake’s piece on the side.”