“You need to relax!” she shouted, giggling. She pulled his arms back and forth, trying to get him to find some rhythm. He felt like an idiot, not knowing the moves to the dance. He wanted to gather her up in his arms and dance the way he’d learned on Avristar. He had lots of practice with classical and Celtic music, being able to captivate an entire audience with his skills.
This music was mostly noise.
Kaliel didn’t seem to notice. She put her hands on his shoulders and he put his on her waist, keeping a few inches between them. She seemed to move back and forth to the music in sync with the beat and so he tried that. He switched up his steps, crossing one foot over the other, spinning, catching her hands when he faced her again. She laughed and seemed to like it so he threw her left hand down, and nodded at her to spin around.
A new song started and Pux lit up. It was a dance song like all the others but it had a beat he recognized. He pulled Kaliel to him, and guided one of her hands to his shoulder, the other to his outstretched hand. The beat was a little faster than what he was used to but once his feet started moving he couldn’t stop. She fumbled, and laughed loudly, and he realized she wasn’t used to dancing real dance steps. He wound an arm around her waist and pulled her against him, dropping his lips to her ear.
“Close your eyes and follow my lead,” he said, pulling back and continuing the quick, complicated steps. Some people called it Cha Cha, but he’d never seen it done to music like this. He spun her under his arm, and pulled her back, bending her backwards over his leg and jerking her upright. He spun and lifted her off the ground, swinging her around him as the song reached the bridge. She opened her eyes for a brief second, colored with amethyst. He beamed, lifting her again. The crowd clapped and he realized they’d taken over the dance floor. Kaliel closed her eyes and he led her across the floor with a flourish. She kept up, her chest rising and falling with the beat. He pivoted and dropped her to the floor, catching her by the wrists before her head hit the linoleum. He knelt beside her as the song ended, caressing her cheek.
She opened her eyes, amethyst filling her irises, breath flushing in and out of her lungs in staccato bursts as she tried to catch her breath. He pulled her to her feet as people finished clapping and filled the dance floor. She blushed as the DJ played a quieter slow song.
“You didn’t tell me you could dance,” she whispered, moving towards the table at the far side of the room. It was empty before they began dancing, but now it was full of pre-filled cups of red or green syrupy liquid and open boxes of pizza. She grabbed a cup of green stuff and handed him a cup with red stuff. She downed hers and grabbed a paper plate, pulling a couple of square pieces of pizza onto it. He did the same and she found a spot against the wall, sitting on a wide wooden bench. She ate, set the plate beside her, and rested her head on his shoulder.
“This is nice.”
Pux patted her knee. He agreed; this was surreal, and so much better than he thought it would be. He loved seeing her happy and for once he agreed with Krishani. He couldn’t burden her with the mistakes of her past. He wanted to accept her the way she was and make the best of it. He stood and tugged at her hand.
“Come on,” he said, leading her to the dance floor. They danced to a few more fast songs, the beats varying, but none quite like the one they Cha Cha’d to. She guided him through some simple dance steps while the rest of the crowd began breaking out their own dance moves. To one of the more confusing songs some of the guys cleared the floor, doing what Kaliel called krumping. It looked violent and angry. After that the DJ played some slower tunes and she ended up looping her arms around his neck, and resting her head on his shoulder. Hours went by but the DJ didn’t stop playing. Pux held her close, and moved in circles, finding it hard to keep the heaviness out of his heart. Another fast song came and he unhooked her arms from his neck and led her to the sidelines. The only good thing about dancing was it didn’t involve talking, and he didn’t have to make up more of his cover story.
She rested her head on his shoulder again and he looked at the floor, rubbing his hands along his jeans. “Does it go all night?”
She nodded. “The music lasts until two and everyone crashes.”
“Crashes?” Pux repeated, not understanding the term.
She laughed. “Anywhere comfortable.”
He pressed his lips together. That still didn’t explain the crashing part. Shimma always explained slang words and figurative sayings and everything Pux missed when the Valtanyana injected Earth with technology. Kaliel slipped her hand into his pulling him out of his thoughts.
“I think I really like you,” she said.
Pux smiled and squeezed her hand. “Me too.” Other than the strobe lights, artificial fog, pizza and music it was like old times.
“I guess that means we’re … dating?”
Pux frowned and glanced at her. She was looking for approval, but he didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. The only type of human interaction he knew about was friendship and what Shimma did, which was hardly sanitary. “What?”
She gulped and dropped her eyes to the floor. “You know … being my … boyfriend?”
He blanched. “But you’re with …” He bit his tongue, not about to say Krishani’s name and bring the Vulture’s wrath down on him. He very much wanted to avoid Krishani’s wrath.
“I’m not with anyone,” she said, like he had the wrong idea.
He shook his head. “I know, I’m sorry, I’m …”
“It’s okay,” she said, the words slurring together because she said them too fast. Pux ran the chain of events through in his mind, using Jack as a reference and his eyes widened.
“Oh no! K … Maeva. I’m …” he cast around for a way to explain it and came up with nothing. He glanced at her eyes, drained of the Flames’ fire. “I like boys.”
It took a long minute for it to dawn on her, but when it did her mouth fell open and she unclasped their hands and curled into herself, playing with a strand of hair. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me that before.” She seemed more than annoyed, like he purposefully didn’t tell her so she could make an idiot of herself.
“I didn’t know how to tell you.”
She looked at him, tears pooling. “You say, ‘I’m gay’ and you don’t dance with a girl and touch her like that all night.” She let out a groan and stood but he grabbed her hand, panic snaking into his limbs at her biting words.
“I’m sorry. I … I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” He tugged on her hand and she sat, crossing her arms, refusing to speak to him. She kept her distance and he watched the DJ pack up his stuff, lights and strobe fading from the hall, leaving nothing but a strip of light from the kitchen.
“I wasn’t lying about the liking you part.” He slid closer so his hip bumped against hers. He felt really stupid, for being himself and making her think he was flirting. With Kaliel, it was the last thing on his mind because for as long as he had known her, she had been in love with Krishani.
She sniffed and he regretted making her cry. “Neither was I.” She plastered a fake smile on her face. Pux went to drape an arm around her shoulders but rethought it and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.
“Friends?”
“Yeah, friends,” she breathed.
***
Chapter 19
The Ruby Flame
Maeva woke on a carpeted floor in the coatroom; head nestled on Rob’s leg. He dozed off with his back against the wall and she curled into herself, using her arms and legs to create a makeshift shell of warmth. Rob had his hand in her hair, gently stroking curls. She pushed herself up abruptly, her head brushing winter jackets above them. She shot him a look.
“You have to stop doing things like that,” she said, everything about last night making her want to scream at herself for a few hours. For once she was glad Steph was in Timmins—instead of watching the spectacle unfold. Her cheeks warmed as the urge to kiss Rob pestered her.
“Sorry,” Rob said, seeming self-conscious as Maeva searched the coatroom for her backpack. She found it in the corner with a bunch of others. She didn’t even know what time it was, but the room was dark, people sprawled out, sleeping. She tiptoed, trying to plan her footfalls well enough so she didn’t step on someone’s hand by accident. She made it across the room, grabbed her backpack and waded across the bodies on her way to the bathroom.
She caught Rob’s eyes, a bewildered lost expression on his face. She forgot he was new to this. She motioned for him to follow her, it was pretty obvious he didn’t bring a change of clothes—she didn’t tell him to, and he carefully peeled himself off the wall and tiptoed over people in his socks. He met her in the cold tiled hallway, hands dug into his pockets, question marks on his face. He shivered and she noticed the vibration running through his body all the way to his toes. She thought it was a little over dramatic for a guy.
“Bathrooms are down the hall,” she said, walking in the general direction. She pointed him at the boy’s while she went into the girl’s. She washed her face, trying to get as many of the sparkles off as possible, and changed into light flare jeans and a white V-neck sweater. She pulled out her iPhone, checking to see if anyone had bothered to message her. The timestamp read a few minutes past eight, but there weren’t any messages from anyone. She shoved the phone back into the side pouch on her backpack and tried not to think about it. Her parents forgot about her all the time.
When they did pay attention to her they didn’t like any of the choices she made. They didn’t support her plans to go to Toronto and would do anything in their power to hold her back. It was this backwards, over protective, neglecting parenting system that didn’t work for her. She didn’t understand how they felt they had a say in her life when they acted like she didn’t matter.
She found Rob leaning against the wall outside the bathroom, looking at the polished wooden door frames and tall brown staircase leading to the parking lot. He looked at her and for once his soft brown eyes didn’t make her insides melt. She had thoughts about last night but she didn’t want to think them until Rob was safely on his way to Thunder Bay.
“Ready to go?”
He frowned and looked down the hallway towards the second set of stairs and the rec room that had been a temporary nightclub. She heard the scrape of a table leg against the floor and cringed. “What about breakfast?” he asked.
She was expertly ignoring the smell of pancakes and sausages, not wanting to drag out her night with him. It was awkward enough she came onto a gay guy and spent the night using his leg for a pillow. She made a face, not really sure where he stood on religion. The way he looked at the church the other night was enough to tell her he was uncomfortable with it. They talked a lot about what he was doing in Thunder Bay with his cousin, the whole fight with his parents over him being gay and him taking a couple of classes at the Community College. He wanted to specialize in anthropology, studying human culture.
The more she learned about him the more she liked but it was clearly a friend only zone. She didn’t know how she missed it before. He was too well groomed, well-mannered and open to be straight. Everything from the way he talked to the way he danced should have waved a bunch of red flags but she bypassed all of that because her need to be with someone that accepted her for who she was eclipsed anything else. She kicked herself for not having her guard up.
She shrugged. “It’s up to you. Breakfast is served with a round of
Kumbaya
.” She paused, trying to read his expression, the smell of fresh pancakes wafting down the hall. Before nine the place would be utter chaos. She rocked back and forth. “And they talk about Jesus.”
Rob raised an eyebrow. “Who’s Jesus?”
Maeva pressed her lips together trying to stifle a laugh as she looped her arm through Rob’s casually and steered him to the stairs. “Tell you what; we’ll go to Grandma’s for breakfast.” She smiled to herself as she pulled him up the stairs, emerging in the freezing sun. Rob zipped his jacket and she flipped her hood up as she followed him across the road to his Camaro. She fell into the front seat and couldn’t hold in her laughter anymore. Rob gripped the steering wheel and stared at her but didn’t join in.
“What?” he asked when she was mostly finished, pulling on her seatbelt.
She fixed him with a look. “I can’t believe you never went to church.” It was ridiculous. Everyone in Kenora went to church, that’s what people did. She hadn’t been since she was about thirteen, the island making her parents too lazy to drag her and Scott all the way across town.
He shook his head. “Sorry.”
She sighed. “It’s so weird,” she said even though he was looking at her like she was the weird one.
He took his time starting the car, and pulling onto the road, double and triple checking his mirrors. It didn’t take long to get across town but they did have to pass by First, and remnants of the accident lay scattered across the intersection. Maeva eyed little pieces of yellow and black plastic, thinking about Michael and his uncle. She had gone almost two weeks without seeing him and a weird empty gnawing pulled at her. Part of her wanted to run into him, ask him how the sprain was healing. If he managed to last this long without leaving a trail of bodies behind, her original idea about him being some psychotic serial killer was evidently wrong.
“What are you thinking about?” Rob asked, as he pulled into the parking lot at Grandma’s.
“Huh?” she asked, resurfacing to the present.
“You looked deep in thought, that’s all.” He cut the engine and undid his seatbelt, waiting for her to answer.
“It’s nothing.” She got out, reaching the front door in a few strides. Rob caught up as she pushed the second glass door open, the restaurant buzzing with families. The hostess sat them at a booth in the corner and Rob glared at her.
“Don’t do this to me again.”
Maeva raised an eyebrow. “Do what?” She really had no frame of reference for “again” and stared at him with a blank expression.
He looked at his hands. “I mean … my best friend in … Toronto had a habit of shutting me out and I don’t want you to do that to me. I’m here, you can talk to me.”
The server appeared, automatically pouring them water and taking down their order even though neither of them looked at a menu and walked away. Maeva bit her lip, contemplating whether or not to tell Rob about Michael. She wanted to but it was so complicated and confusing she didn’t know where to start. She opened her mouth, closed it, avoided Rob’s stare by glancing at the cheesy bamboo blinds. She grabbed her straw and took it out of the wrapper, dunked it in her water and took a long sip.
“Okay,” she said, making eye contact with Rob. “Do you promise not to tell anyone?”
He nodded. “I don’t know who I’d tell.…”
Maeva cleared her throat. “Your cousin?”
Rob laughed. “Ahh yeah … we’re not that close but … okay.”
“You have to promise.”
Rob smiled. “I promise.”
“I don’t know what to do about a guy at school.”
Rob seemed to blanch at the words. He blinked and averted his gaze. “Do you … like him?”
“No! No, it’s not like that. It’s really weird.” She gulped, unsure how to act around her new gay friend. She thought he might have some advice on what to do when a guy finds a waterfall you’ve been dreaming about for three years and throws a knife at your head but the whole thing was so absurd she couldn’t get it past her lips.
“How weird?” Rob asked, pulling her back to the table, and the plates of pancakes and French toast. She got to the syrup before Rob did and drizzled it over the bread, handing it to him. She didn’t want to talk about Michael. She couldn’t talk about him without sounding like a lunatic, so she cut her bread into squares and folded pieces of the sugary, egg soaked goodness into her mouth, letting it melt on her tongue. Rob began devouring a stack of pancakes, but paused after a couple of mouthfuls and pointed a fork at her.
“You’re not getting out of it you know.” He flashed a grin at her.
She smirked. “And how are you going to get it out of me?”
Rob put his fork down and cleared his throat. “Vee have whays of making you talk.” His Russian accent made Maeva burst out laughing so loud the sound filled the restaurant. Rob beamed and she clapped her hands over her mouth, glancing at the dirty stares from the old couple across the aisle.
“You have to stop doing that,” she hissed.
“Doing what?” He looked at her innocently, stuffing another mouthful of pancake into his mouth and smiling with his mouth closed, making his cheeks puff up like a squirrel.
“Being … you.” She let out a breath. “Gah … where have you been all this time?”
Rob swallowed hard. “I told you. I was in Toronto.” He had that matter of fact look on his face, telling her not to question the Toronto thing anymore.
“I know. But … everything is better with you here. I feel like I’ve known you forever.” She picked up her fork and avoided his expression, eating silently. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so at home with anyone. The past twelve years were tough. She hung onto the good memories of her dad and Steph, but everyone had a way of avoiding her, treating her like she was somehow different. She dared a glance at Rob and caught him staring at her, a painful longing in his eyes.
“Yeah … I feel the same,” Rob said, a wan smile crossing his face.
O O O
Rob dropped her off at Earl’s Garage. He offered to walk her all the way home but she didn’t want to give him more opportunities to make her feel uncomfortable. As much as she liked him she had to teach herself to detach, driving it through her skull he was only friend material. Rob didn’t let the Michael thing go and she ended up chickening out, telling him about the walls he put up and the way he refused to talk to anyone. Rob didn’t have any advice which made her feel stupid for saying anything in the first place.
She passed the dock, keeping her head down as she stepped on the frozen ice. Out on the open water the wind played tricks with itself, blowing in every direction, causing snow dunes to form in different patterns along the surface of the lake. She pulled her scarf up to her lower eyelashes, and pulled her hood down as far as it would go, covering her forehead. The wind stung her cheeks, the thin material of her scarf not enough to keep the cold out of her cheekbones. She loathed frostbite, the idea of ice caking on the tips of her ears, fingers, and cheeks, sent shockwaves through her. She could be a tiny frozen icicle in the snow. She shook away the fear and trudged onwards, glancing up to see how far the dock was.
She stopped in her tracks.
A woman in red stood on the dock. Bright auburn hair flapped in the wind, a long form fitting red trench coat covered her shoulders, while showing off spandex cherry red leggings, knee length red stiletto boots and matching tube top, a strip of bare skin showing off a ruby jewel nestled in her belly button. Her face was a porcelain mask, dark red lipstick covering her thin lips. Maeva blinked and rubbed her eyes, her heart reverberating. The woman resembled a comic book character, which was also one of the craziest things she had ever seen. She took a step back hesitantly, Michael’s words ricocheting through her.
It isn’t me you need to be worried about.
The woman smirked, and her eyes went from unrecognizable to flaming ruby red. She put her hand behind her back and pulled out a large flaming red sword.
Maeva trembled and cold seeped into her. It filled her lungs, slithered up her arms and pressed itself into her heart. The scarf fell off her mouth as it formed an O, her eyes wide. The woman in red slammed the sword into the ice, igniting a loud crack that echoed across the lake. The ice split, a jagged line skirting towards her. Water erupted from between the crack and one platelet of ice slipped under the other. Tufts appeared along the surface as water rushed forward, engulfing the ice.
Maeva ran.
She slipped on the tilting, exploding ice and fell on her knees, sliding towards the docks. She forced herself to her feet, her lungs crying out from a shock of biting winter air, her heart hammering. She sprinted and doubled over, bracing her hands on her knees. The sound of sloshing water interrupted her train of thought and she kept running.
She hit dry land and kept going, winding down the road and taking the narrow path through the forest. She slowed, walking briskly through the snow, her backpack bouncing, her eyes wet with tears she didn’t mean to cry. The wind was a harsh mistress, stinging her face and leaving her eyes watery. Glancing at the path behind her she broke into a jog. The forest was beautiful but stark during winter. Evergreens with snowy leaves closed in on either side, interspersed by bare birch trees and prickly decaying shrubs. The tops of her boots sunk in the snow, making the bottom half of her jeans wet. She didn’t care. She hopped through thick blankets of snow until she hit the ravine and lost her balance, sliding down the incline on her back. She flailed until she came to an abrupt stop, her boots hitting an icy stream. She crossed the river, staying to steep muddy walls on the opposite side. There was no way she could climb out, she was trapped.
She huddled by the waterfall, arms around her knees, head tucked into the circle of her arms, breathing in heavy slow breaths. She felt her pulse in the palms of her hands and in the side of her neck and in her stomach. She hiccupped and held her breath, but another one erupted from her and it was impossible to stop after that. The sound rippled through the quiet forest, echoing off trees above her.