Escapism (The Escapism Series) (9 page)

  “I am lost,” he uttered.

  The child looked around seven years of age with dark brown hair and greyish eyes.

  “How do you know my name?” I demanded. The eerie child ignored my question.

  “You can help me,” he said, pointing his tiny finger at me.

  “How?” I asked as he handed me a piece of a silver pendant.

  He simply stared, while his eyes smeared into a grey and black swirl. He got up to leave, but I quickly intercepted.

  “No wait! You can’t leave yet,” I exclaimed, right before a series of black spots trickled into my line of vision.

  He turned back, examining my wrist, “It’s gone.”

  “What is?” I pressed before blacking out into a sea of nothingness.

***

  Upon awakening the following morning, I wondered how much of the night, prior to passing out, had actually happened. I rolled out of bed, ventured down the hall, and peered into the guest room. The bed was made up and there was no trace of Nicholas. Was it all a dream? I sure as hell hoped not.

  I made my way down the stairwell to the kitchen. I decided on scrambled eggs or my backup plan—cereal, and tons of it.

  I could hear rattling in the kitchen and a woman’s voice.

 
Oh No! It couldn’t be
. My mother was home and poor Nicholas was in the kitchen with her. Chagrin filled me as I slowly pushed the kitchen door open, squinting in preparation for the worst.

  “Morning, Xenia. That was some storm last night, huh? I ended up staying at the hotel where our meeting was,” said Chrysanthe.

  “How’s my girl?” Marlon wrapped his arm around me, kissing my forehead. He was in a black suit and tie—his regular getup. His briefcase and luggage rested by the patio entrance, fresh from travel.

  I was surprised to see my father back so soon from his business trip, but even more surprised that Nicholas seemingly escaped without a trace.

  “Morning, Mom, Dad. I guess I overslept. I should get ready soon or I’ll be late.”

  “Not so fast, Xeni. Have breakfast with your old man,” he requested, dotingly.

  “I can’t. I’m meeting Marla for our parking passes,” I said, pouring some orange juice.

  “How’s university treating you?” he asked, feigning innocence.

  I knew what was coming—nostalgia over his glory days and lots of it. “I remember walking the grounds way back when I was a York U student. Running into your mother a few times in the library and finally manning up to ask her out.”

  “
Marlon
,” my mother made a face. “Your father is delusional, I swear. I asked him out first because he took too long. It was painful to watch,” she said, nudging me playfully. While my parents debated over who had made the first move, I decided to split.

  “Got to run,” I bellowed, pushing through the kitchen door.

  I overheard my father’s whispers from behind the wooden door.

  “Chrysanthe, our baby girl is all grown up.”

  I heaved a sigh of relief, having escaped the dismal scenario that ensued, yet again. The first few times were cute but after a while, the proud parent act got old.

  I rushed up the stairs and into the guest room where I found the neatly folded shirt and sweats that, not long ago, clung to Nicholas’ extraordinary body—if it weren’t for these few articles of clothing, I’d have thought I dreamt it all. That would have made for an interesting dream but still, I said to myself amen, thank God, and all that is holy, thanks!

  After I showered and found something simple yet college-like to wear, my Cyclopod nearly vibrated off my desk. My morning dose of Marla and Calliope was imminent.

  “Hey, I’m in line picking up our parking passes. Once you get here, call me—the line is insane,” Marla grumbled.

  “I’m just about ready to leave. I shouldn’t be too long,” I said.

  “Okay, cool. What’d you do last night?”

  “Nicholas came by…he stayed the night,” I said, carelessly.

  As much as I thought it was a harmless slip of the tongue, my subconscious knew better. It was inevitable. I had to reveal one or the other—being a Diplozoe or having a guy over—and the answer was obvious.

  “What?” she shrieked, piercing my eardrums. “Did you…did he…?”

  “No, it wasn’t like
that
,” I replied, putting her overactive mind at ease. “His car broke down nearby. He just crashed in the guest room.” 

  “I bet,” she said, unconvinced. “
Hey, can’t you see I’m in line
?” she shouted over the receiver. “God! Some people.”

  “Contain yourself, Marla. I’ll call you once I’m closer,” I said, ending the uncomfortable conversation.

  “I’ll be waiting,” she playfully sung the words.

  I hung up quickly thereafter.

  I pulled the sheets aside to make my bed and saw something shiny—it was the silver pendant. I freaked out and threw the sheets, leaving the bed in a mess. The significance of the pendant was far too much to endure right then and there—it could wait.

  I quickly left through the front door, steering away from my parents who were especially annoying this morning. The weather felt unseasonably warm at twenty-seven degrees Celsius on my walk to the subway station. Just as I initiated a VT—to find out if Calliope would grace us with her presence—my Cyclopod beeped twice, indicating an incoming VT.

  “Basketball in the main gym today around one?” Landon asked. He looked flushed as though he had just showered.

  “Be prepared to get your ass kicked,” I incited, cordially.

  “Ooh, Xenia’s throwing down the smack talk—me likey,” he replied, friskily.

  During our friendly banter, I realized that I was about to miss the subway. I could see it from under the bridge heading to the northbound platform. I bolted through the entrance, swiping my transit pass, and running down a flight of stairs in the nick of time. I hastily sent off a VT while the subway was above ground. “There’s a lot more where that came from. See you later.”

  The ride was quick, smooth and hiccup free—exactly what every commuter would hope for. Upon transferring on the bus platform, I boarded in time, and found a two-seater; it appeared the bus fairy was watching over me.

  Undoubtedly, I spoke too soon, jinxing myself. Naturally, someone much larger sat beside me. I moved my knapsack over onto my lap so that the tank of a man could sit and squish me into the window. I pulled out my Cyclopod and listened to a playlist of unfamiliar artists added by Calliope.

  I lost myself in the eclectic music and city noises that seeped in through the earpieces. I welcomed the familiar scenery as the bus swerved around from Sheppard Avenue into a quiet industrial back road. The bus ran over a huge pothole and the person to my left further squished me into my seat.
Soon
, I reminded myself. I would be getting a parking pass soon.

  As I stepped off the bus and breathed in the toxic fumes that filled the air—irrespective of car-pooling and public transit systems—I realized how grimy public transit could be and how much I longed to be in a car of my own.  I continued through the campus toward the parking building and hoped that Marla hadn’t strangled anyone.

  The green that surrounded the campus cleared the air, allowing me to breathe again. Angrily, my stomach grumbled, groveling for sustenance.

  “Xenia! Over here,” Marla hollered, vigorously waving for my attention as I approached the line.

  “Hey,” I said, bemused, “You’re
still
waiting?”

  “There’re like three people still ahead of me. You have no idea how insane it was in here. Now tell me about last night. I’m dying for deets,” she burst forth inhaling noisily, catching her breath.

  “Well, my dad’s back from his business trip and my parents were super-annoying this morning,” I said, hoping she’d cease her snooping.

  “Stop being evasive, Z,” she frowned, displeased. “Just spit it out already.”

  “Fine.
Nothing
happened.”

  “Are you seriously going to lie to one of your best friends? If anything, I’m like your sister.”

  “I’m being serious—nothing in
that
way. I mean, he kissed me and I kissed him back, but that’s about it. Oddly enough, he disappeared this morning.”

  “What’d you think he’d do? Cook breakfast for you and your parents? Hah! By the way, how is Mr. Sanders? I miss seeing him jog by my place in those retro runners’ shorts.”

  I nearly gagged. “Ugh, gross, Marla. You’re talking about my dad.”

  “Yeah, your
hot
dad,” she remained unaffected by my disgust.

  We walked over to Tim Horton’s—conveniently located in the same building complex—for breakfast after successfully picking up our parking passes.

  “Don’t you have a lecture right now?” I asked.

  “Oh shoot. I didn’t realize the time. I mean how could I possibly forget about my super interesting statistics class, right?” she snickered, continuing, “Besides, Cal asked me to take notes because she apparently has an ‘early appointment’.”

  “You mean she hooked up with a guy and can’t find her keys?” I alluded, grinning mischievously.

  “Precisely,” she enunciated each syllable. “Listen, I’ve got to run. Meet me by Tait’s parking after your last lecture.”

  “Good call. If Cal comes at all, it’ll be to use the gym. See ya later.”

  “Ciao, Ciao,” Marla hollered, taking off in a hurry.

***

  After morning lectures, I walked over to the south fitness facilities entrance, waiting for Landon. I saw him cutting across the green hill from the chemistry building to Tait Mckenzie.

  “Xenia, now that I think of it, you never did mention if you had a good time at my party,” he said, candidly. His lazy drawl continued, “I was a
little
drunk and my recollection the next day was kind of foggy.”

  “A little?” I giggled. “Your party was an absolute hit. I thought you knew.”

  Landon beamed. “It’s always nice to hear—and thanks for coming.”

  “Thanks for having me,” I replied, pleasantly.

  Landon appeared preoccupied. Something was eating at him and it was starting to show in his tense body language. 

  “So…who was that guy creeping on you?”

  “Uh, one of your old friends,” I laughed at his obvious jealously.

  “Never met the guy before,” he replied. “So are you seeing him now?”

  I distinctly remembered Nicholas’ words that night—old friend.

  “I don’t know,” I mumbled, confused.

  Landon released a sigh of relief.

  “Why? Are you jealous or something?” I pressed, amused.

  “Yes,” he replied, candidly.

  “I’m flattered, really,” I stuttered, awkwardly.

  “A real man can admit his feelings, and so I must say, Xenia I—”

  The mysterious guy that Kiran warned me about stood a few feet away. Landon snapped his fingers in my line of vision. “Hello? Earth to Xenia.”

  “I’m so sorry.
What
?”

  “I, uh, maybe we should sign out a ball before they’re all gone.”

  “Okay. Meet you on the main court.”

  While Landon entered the fitness facility, I looked at my mysterious and unopposed foe. He continued down the path toward the parking lot, briskly peering over his shoulder. I wasn’t entirely certain, but I could have sworn he was smiling.

  I forced my eyes shut and turned away, hurrying to meet Landon. After changing, I found him sitting by the bleachers in the gym eating a snack bar and drinking something from a large clear container.

  “Should you be eating right before we play?”

  “It’s just a protein bar and a creatine shake. I usually take it during my warm up before I weight lift. You see, this is technically a warm up for me.”

  “Hey, I’m a natural born athlete. You’re the one that needs to take all the supplements,” I pestered.

  “
Cheeky
—I like,” he took a final sip of his shake.

  “Let’s play already. Bring it,” I motioned with my hand.

  “I’m liking this side of you, Z.” He swiped the ball from my hands. “You sassy girl, you,” he teased.

  I rolled my eyes, smacking the ball from right under him.

  We played one-on-one and boy did he ever put up a challenge. He took a moment to catch his breath, arching over while resting his hands on his knees.

  “Is that all you’ve got? And here I thought you had game.” I shrugged my shoulders smugly. He did not take well to losing, evident by his  incessant moping.

  He insisted on a rematch and I admired Landon’s perseverance in light of his pending conquest. 

  After physically invigorating our bodies with an intense game of basketball, Landon playfully threw his towel at me.

  “You’re good, Z, but you still need my help if you want to try out for varsity basketball.”

  “Who said anything about varsity sports? I know I didn’t.”

  “You’ve got skill—It’s undeniable. What a shame it’d be if you let it go to waste.”

  I rolled my eyes at an awestruck Landon. Although being a part of sports teams was one of my fondest memories, it was no longer one of my priorities—finding out what I was and where I came from were. I threw the towel back at Landon and he wiped the sweat off his face. I sat beside him on the bench while he placed one arm around my shoulder.

  “You’ve already missed tryouts, Z, but I’m willing to give you a second shot. Let the team see what you can bring to the court.”

  “
You’re
willing to let me try out?” I replied, laughing. “Are you the team scout or something?”

  “Well, I’m kind of the assistant coach—unofficially. I’ve been the assistant coach on the women’s varsity basketball team since the original assistant coach left last year for a head coaching position at the University of Georgia.”

  “Varsity basketball would be great, but I don’t know if I can commit to it this year,” I replied, hesitantly. Realistically, I wouldn’t have the time to play sports when there were more pressing matters to attend to in my first year of university—like finding out what it meant to be a Diplozoe, and whether or not I had cool powers.

  “So? Will you try out?”

  “What will all the other girls think? Hmm? I will be known as
that girl
—the one with the special advantages, things just handed to her, branded as an outcast. They wouldn’t want me on the team.”

  “Xenia,” he moaned, continuing, “They’d accept you in a heartbeat.”

  “I’m not making any promises, but when are tryouts?”

  “You don’t know how badly we need a point guard on our team.”

  “Landon.
Tryouts
?” I snapped, slightly peeved.

  “Next Monday. Bring your A-game, Miss Sanders.”

  “
Great
,” I said, aloofly.

  “You could become a cheerleader instead, and put that great spirit of yours to use,” he said, sarcastically. “Ready? Okay! Go York Lions, yay! I can picture you in a skirt and everything,” he made fists, placing each on his hips, while attempting a series of high kicks.

  “
Ha. Ha. Ha
. So original, Landon. The light bulb is still lingering over your perfect sun-kissed hair,” I said, swiping over his head at the imaginary light bulb. He ducked out of the way, chuckling.

  “You’d make a horrible cheerleader.”

  “Agreed. No arguments there,” I snickered. “I’m off to change. Call me when you’re free for our first high-kick session—someone needs to stretch his hamstrings.”

  Landon looked down in admiration of his physique and smiled. “You bet. See you around, Z.”

  As I turned away, I felt a brisk slap across my buttock. “Good work today,” he said, taking a big bite out of his bar. “Post warm up snack.”

  I walked ahead with a hand on my right butt cheek. “Ease up on the bodybuilding formula, geez.”

  He grinned, taking another bite in spite of me.

  “You’ve got game, but a true athlete can play any sport.”

  “Oh really? Name the game, Bostwick.”

  “I will. Let’s see how you are at squash.”

  “Squash and I are like
this
,” I hissed, holding up my index finger crossed under my middle finger. I lied. I played squash once before and had badly bruised myself with my own racket. I figured it couldn’t be any worse this time around. 

  I waved good-bye while heading toward the girl’s locker room. I showered, changed, and walked to my next lecture for the day. After having walked from the opposite side of campus, I arrived ten minutes late.

  The entire lecture hall was at maximum capacity. Some students nodded off while others chatted about mixers and schedule conflicts of sorts.

  I caught every other word during lecture, zoning in and out. I wondered what Marla and Calliope were doing and daydreamt mostly of Nicholas. The girl next to me rigorously took notes. Every few minutes, she looked over at me, grimacing at my fragmented note-taking. It was only the first week of university, for heaven’s sake. Technically, it was a cushion week or a week to acclimate to our new environment. I wondered just how neurotic she’d get during midterms.

  The monotonous lecture sung to me, like a lullaby.  I made a mental note: upgrade to a large coffee as a medium would no longer suffice.

  I wondered how I would survive through these dreadful lectures over the next few years. I envisioned a caffeine sprinkler system, and the satisfaction of pulling the trigger. Somehow, these were happy—and not unusual—thoughts for me. Amidst my daydreaming, I contemplated the following three scenarios: going for a coffee run, staying whereby I’d die of boredom, or leaving early.

  I rested my chin in my palm, and navigated the web on my Cyclopod. With the lecture notes posted Online, I decided upon option three—leaving early. Hooray!