Escapism (The Escapism Series) (12 page)

Mysterious Tattooed Man

I awoke early in the morning to the feel of a warm slice of sunbeam through my horizontal window shades. I stretched out my limbs as far as I could reach, yawning my residual sleepiness away.

  Reaching for my Cyclopod by my nightstand, I checked my schedule to find that my economics lecture was canceled and my first class for the day was at ten—with Calliope and Marla. Unable to fall back asleep, I showered and dressed for the day ahead.

  Calliope picked us up on her own accord. Even though she complained of being the chauffeur, she enjoyed showcasing her silver Benz.   For our first lecture of the day—a two hour natural science elective which felt more like five—had there been no time restriction, I was certain the professor would talk all day. As soon as it ended, we cruised around the campus mall, grabbed some pizza and smoothies, and sat outside by the pond in the commons, soaking up some sun.

  “I have an idea. Let’s buy some strawberry cigarillos and chill at Blueberry Hill’s patio. First pitcher is on me,” I said, spiritedly.

  Marla and Calliope looked at one another, nodding agreeably.

  “Now we’re talking. I could use a drink,” Calliope replied, taking a bite of her pizza.

  “Let’s do it!” Marla nodded in favor. “I have a lighter,” she waved it in the air.

  “Why d’you have a lighter?” Calliope asked.

  “To light things with. Like, duh.”

  “Says the future arsonist before us,” Calliope said, twisting her face in a wry smile.

  “Oh, stop it,” Marla glared.

  “Just saying. Someone should keep track of these tell-tale signs.  We’ve got a potential arsonist on our hands. That’s serious,” she teased.

  I darted back to the original subject. “We have three hours before our final lecture of the day. Let’s try to not get tanked,” I proposed, however likely it seemed.

  A cute guy walked past us, admiring Calliope in all her beauty. She smiled, holding his gaze as he continued to walk straight into a garbage bin. I laughed so hard that I projected a piece of pizza back out of my mouth in front of Marla’s shoes. She shrieked in disgust, while Calliope basked in admiration.  The guy dusted himself off and carried on, hurriedly.

  We smoked and drank to our health and wellbeing, paradoxically. While finishing off our second pitcher, the pitter-patter of rain signaled an end to our fun.

  “So much for chilling on a patio,” Marla said.

  “I bet our lungs are ecstatic!” I exclaimed, taking a drag.

  “Don’t forget our livers,” Calliope added, holding her glass up.

  “I think I just might be okay for lecture,” I said, switching to water.

  “Pfft. I’m going home. Beer makes me sleepy,” Calliope said, reapplying her lip-gloss.

  “You shouldn’t drive, Cal,” I cautioned.

  “I’m not driving silly—he is,” she giggled, waving to a guy at a table amongst a group at the far end.

  “Seriously? Wow. Okay, if he drives your car, how’ll he get back?” I asked, amused.

  “How should I know,” she replied, winking at her newfound prey.

  “Why don’t you two take the bus?” I suggested.

  “No, thank you,” Calliope snapped.

  Marla burst out laughing. “I think I’m buzzed,” she whispered.

  “And I thought I was a lightweight,” Calliope said, derisively.

  “I’ve got to run to class, but you two stick together. Do not drive—either one of you.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the girls replied in unison.

  We said our good-byes and I headed to my last lecture. I pulled on my hoodie, shielding myself from the pitter-patter of rain. With time to kill, I sat on a cement block and held a cigarette that I had acquired from a guy on my way to class. I rolled it over and over in my hands, debating whether or not to smoke it. I knew the occasional cigarillo with the girls was bad, but smoking cigarettes was a whole new level of potentially addictive substances, aside from my established caffeine addiction.

  I looked over to my right and saw Orion approaching. He was an enemy of mine for reasons I was still unsure of. He was tall and striking with broad shoulders and a medium build. Strands of dirty-blond hair were tucked behind his ears, while others hung loosely across his face.

  “Are you going to smoke that anytime soon?” he merely smirked.

  I squinted, blinded by the sun shifting westward from behind a building.

  He sat beside me and gestured to my cigarette, “May I?” he asked, politely.

  I handed it over.

  “Hmm,” he sighed, analyzing the label.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You don’t look old to me,” he said, leaning back in observation.

  “Thanks,
I guess
. Must be all the moisturizing,” I replied, self-consciously.

  He grinned. “Fifty year old men smoke these. You sure you smoke?”

  “Um, no. Not really,” I exhaled noisily, ejected from my shell.

  “Then why were you about to inhale this poisonous stick? There are better options for us…
never mind
,” he said, imitating a smile.

  “I thought I’d try it out—I don’t know,” I said, intoxicated by his very presence.

  “Smoking is bad for you,” he said, crushing the cigarette into pieces.

  “No shit,” I smirked profusely.

  I did not expect him to be so pleasant after my talk with Kiran.

  “Having a bad day I take it?” he asked.

  “Kind of,” I said, surprising myself. “Just the morning part.”

  “Ah. I’m more of a night person myself,” he whispered.

  As we conversed, the sky progressively darkened and it began to rain again.

  “I hate rain,” he winced, while drops of water struck his perfectly tanned face.

  “You owe me a dollar,” I said, shielding myself with a newspaper.

  We ran to the entrance as the rain came down harder.

  “What for?” he asked, amused.

  “The cigarette. It wasn’t free—nothing ever is.”

  “Here,” he said, handing me a dollar.  “Now you owe me.”

  “For?” I laughed, taken aback.

  “My advice,” he smirked.

  I sighed, immensely amused. “That wasn’t just friendly advice?”

  “Apparently not.”

  I giggled, surprised by his response.

  Aimlessly, we walked through the halls, avoiding the obvious tension between us.

  “You’re a student here?” I asked, skeptically.

  “I must look old,” he smiled, having picked up on the cynicism in my tone. “I’m a T.A. I’m working on my master’s.”

  “It’s not that you look old—I just suck at guessing.”

  “How old do I look to you?” he asked, mischievously grinning.

  “Hmm. I’d say around twenty four.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Close—twenty six.”

  “That’s not
old
,” I said. “My turn! Guess how old I am.”

  “Twenty-one?”

  “
Wrong
. Try again.”

  “
Okay
. Nineteen?” he sighed, playfully.

  “Dead on.” I felt as though he was toying with me.

  “I haven’t officially introduced myself. I’m Orion Nordstrom.”

  “I’m Xe—” Just as I started to say my name, he interrupted.

  “I know who you are,” he whispered, smiling sinisterly.

  In the background, I caught a glimpse of Kiran standing in front of Scott library. Unsure if Kiran would be implicated in any way had I waved, I merely glanced as soon as I caught his attention.

  Kiran’s expression looked equally confounded as he approached.  

  “Well, look at what the cat dragged in,” Kiran chided. “Orion.
Xenia
.”

  Orion remained calm and collected—it almost oozed out of his  presence.

  “
Kiran
, how nice to see you,” he said.

  “I see you’re escorting Xenia to class,” Kiran said, warily.

  “Actually, I’m done for the day,” I explained, deciding to skip class.

  “Oh, look at that. I’m done as well. Do you mind if I join you to the parking lot?” Kiran pressed.

  Orion’s expression remained taut, but his eyes sparkled with fire. If looks could kill, that’d be the look.

  “
Okay then
. It was nice meeting you, Orion,” I said, hesitantly.

  “I’m happy to have met you,” he whispered, ignoring Kiran’s existence.

  “I’m glad you two hit it off,” Kiran added, impatiently. “Let’s not keep him from his stacks of ungraded papers or whatever it is that he does.”

  “I’ll see you around, Xenia,” he said, glancing at Kiran.

  “Bye,” I said, warily.

  Kiran walked hurriedly and I attempted to keep up.

  “Kiran, slow down. Is this a race?”

  “Potentially, yes. I told you to stay away from Orion.”

  “You’ve got it all wrong.
He
approached me.”

  “Really? Well that’s odd,” he said, furrowing his brow.

  “You’re telling me. Truthfully, as friendly as he came off today, something about him doesn’t sit well with me.”

  “You’re scared—as you should be. He’s trying to—” he halted midsentence as a swarm of girls passed us by, two of which caught his eye.

  He slowed his pace in acknowledgment. “
Ladies
,” he sung, making the girls visibly giddy along their way.

  “As you were saying.” I cleared my throat, tapping his shoulder.    

  “So many girls, so little time,” he sighed, continuing, “What was I saying? Oh, right. I was saying, he’s trying to figure you out—what your strengths and weaknesses are.”

  “What’s it to him?”

  “Right now, he thinks you’re a blind Diplozoe—unaware of your potential. Usually the case with Diplo-children adopted by an average human family.”

  “I’m not adopted,” I howled, surprised. “And they aren’t average—they’re lawyers.”

  “But still human…more or less,” he mused. “Some novice Diplos think they’re dreaming when they shift, never really grasping their potential.”

  “Oh, okay. So, he thinks I’m blind—he doesn’t know that I know. I still don’t understand why it matters to him.”

  “It shouldn’t, but he’s intent on monitoring your every move now. He’s a traitor to our kind. Since that night in Styx, he’s become infatuated with you, Xenia.”

  “A traitor? And he’s infatuated with me of all people?”

  Kiran paced back and forth as we stood dead center in the parking lot. He scoped out our surroundings before divulging a secret. “Orion is a spy,” he whispered.

  I took a moment to digest Kiran’s words before breaking down into laughter.

  “This isn’t funny, Xenia. The ESOM is established Offline, and they collaborate with rogue Diplozoes to find us Online. Humans cannot trace us otherwise. Rogue Diplos are essentially traitors to our kind. He could reveal you to the ESOM should they be searching for you.” Kiran shook his head in disbelief. “I shouldn’t be telling you any of this. I’m implicating myself so you have to listen when I tell you things like stay away from Orion.”

  I dwelled on Kiran’s words. Then it hit me.

  “We’re Online right now?” I asked, pushing my hair back from my face.

  “
Yes
,” he exclaimed, pleased by my sudden grasp of reality.

  “How do I know if I’ve been Offline?”

  “Easy—let’s shift together,” he said, enticed.

  “Right now?” I asked, anxiously looking around us.

  “Sure. We can go whenever we like. Don’t worry, our bodies won’t just flop—we kind of run on autopilot. Functional, but emotionally hollow more or less.”

  “Like most guys,” I smirked.

  “My my. Aren’t we contemptuous today. Here’s a tip—avoid  shifting while driving. I once ended up in Buffalo,” he flinched, continuing, “Are you ready?”

  “What am I supposed to do exactly?”

  “Just look ahead as far as your eyes permit. You’ll feel like you’re skipping channels surrounded by flickers of light—that’s when you begin to transition between worlds.”

  “To the transitory portal, Styx?” I asked, verifying what I had acquired.

  “Someone’s finally taking notes,” he moaned, relieved.

  “We can affect the energy for those around us as well?”

  “We most certainly can, grasshopper. It’s like a natural high for the average individual. The air is euphoric when we travel, shift, call it what you like.”

  “It’s all making sense now. Landon’s birthday was definitely unusual.”

  “It’s kind of funny, huh? You were part of the reason it was unusual,” Kiran mused. “I’m shifting in a minute,” he proclaimed, his eyes less defined with every second.

  I followed his lead as we traveled into the transitory world, Styx.

  “Don’t stop until you feel you’ve hit a road block—an energy wall.”

  I saw a flicker of light that was unlike the others, slowly expanding to that of a high beam, directly shining into my eyes. I felt as though, I had physically walked into a brick wall, propelled backward onto the cement. On the ground, I rubbed my eyes. My forehead tinged with a prickly sensation.  

  Kiran continued to shift, briefly stopping to extend his hand to me. I walked toward him, hesitantly. His eyes were fixed ahead. “Xenia, take my hand,” he instructed.

  I placed my hand in his and a series of mental blocks hit me—I shrieked in pain.

  Kiran also flinched, feeling the residual pain sear through my hand. Instantly, his eyes swirled back into a distinct form.

  “It’s too late,” he said.

  “For what?”

  “Dude. You’ve been tampered with. You can’t go Offline.”

  “Orion did this, didn’t he?” I was spooked by the thought of someone spying on me.

  “It’s unlikely. The ESOM is usually involved in these cases.”

  “How do I get unblocked?”

  “I’m not entirely sure. All I know is if you keep trying to go Offline, you’ll need painkillers.”

  “Can you help me get unblocked?”

  Kiran walked me to my car. As I got in, he said, “Yes, there’s a miniscule chance that I can help.”

  “I beg you, Kiran. Please help me. I’ll do anything.”

  “Hmm. 
Anything
?” He bit his lower lip, provocatively.

  “Let me rephrase that. Anything aside from whatever it is that you’re thinking of—pig. Someone has his head in the gutter,” I snarled.

  “Rightfully so. Look at you, and look at all these equally fine, fine ladies around campus—in the gutter, I shall remain,” he chuckled, continuing, “You drive a hard bargain, Miss Sanders. I’ll help but you need to dig deep.  First off, didn’t your parents have the Diplo talk?”

  “No,” I replied, undeniably feeling short-changed.

  “Really?” he cocked his head, bemused. “Let’s go to your place. I’d like to meet your parents.”

  “You want to meet my parents? Don’t you think that’s a little rash? We aren’t even dating.”

  “If you want my help, you’ll do as I say. Or, you can flat out ask them. I’m sure they’ll take great care of you, and by take care, I mean admit you to the finest psychiatric facility in town,” he explained, astutely.

  “Let’s try your way first,” I said, sighing nervously.

  “Good idea,” he said, amused.

  We took his car to my place on a whim since my parents’ schedules were unpredictable. As we pulled in, I saw my parents’ cars in the driveway.

  “They’re home. What exactly are you going to do?”