going to tell you you’re wrong, either I’m the most arrogant person on the planet or I’m God itself.”
Hearing it like that—I don’t know—I almost feel like I could start crying. I don’t start crying, of course. I rub my eye with the heel of my hand. There’s someone on my side. I’ve been wandering through a confusing mire since June. I can stop and rest now.
“That accident,” Azel says, but doesn’t finish.
“What is it?” I ask. I smile a wavering smile.
He bites the inside of his mouth. He looks contrite. “I don’t want to bring it up if it’s going to bother you.”
“It happened,” I say. “I can’t pretend it didn’t.”
He frowns apologetically, but continues. “It could have interrupted the functions in your brain. I don’t pretend to know anything about that. But—”
“You think…” Oh. “You think the accident’s the reason I saw that—had that—”
“Out-of-body experience. That’s what it was, wasn’t it?”
I falter. Out-of-body experience sounds so hokey.
“It’s just,” Azel says. “I believe humans can do things they don’t know they can do. I also believe science exists to explain the unexplainable.”
For a moment I imagine what it would be like if Kory were sitting here with us. Probably Kory would commandeer the conversation from the get-go: I read all about this in the American Science Journal, perfectly explicable phenomenon, nothing woo-woo about it, get me some potato chips…
“Well,” I say, attempting another smile. “I’m in the same boat as you are.”
Azel closes his mouth. His gaze is soft. I wish I knew what was going through his head. Just wondering about it, my face feels hot.
The front door swings open and claps closed. A petite girl strides into the sitting room, fluffing her thick black curls with an agitated hand.
“That study session was a bust,” the girl says. She stops and inspects me.
“Uh,” I say. I choke out an embarrassed greeting.
“This one looks stupid,” the girl prophesies.
Azel’s whole body jerks. “Layla!”
“If you’re going to invite girls over, the least you can do is warn me about it. I don’t want to come home to this garbage. You’re trying to make me puke, is that it?”
“Go upstairs!” His face is red.
“Fine,” Layla drawls. “God knows you’re not going to get any other opportunities. Wait until I tell Dad about this.”
Layla leaves the sitting room. Azel buries his face in his hands.
“Holy crap,” I stammer. And he lives with that…
“Tea!” Azel shouts. He leaps up like a bullet through a barrel. “I’ll make some!”
He scurries out of the sitting room through a side door. I watch him in a daze. Somewhere along the line, I realize, tea became codeword for A Plausible Diversion.
* * * * *
The pot on the tray is still steaming. Azel pours the tea into two delicate cups, strainers catching the leaves. The tea is rose-colored and rose-scented, a viable contender for Azel’s face.
“What are those?” I point at the snack on the tray, tiny little pastries glazed in honey.
“Luqaimat.” Azel won’t meet my eyes.
The tea tastes good. The luqaimat tastes better. Too many calories , Joss would have blanched. I smile at the memory. She can’t leave me if I carry her with me, the little swan on my wrist.
“You’re a gymnast?” I ask Azel.
He blows on his tea. I don’t know why—it should have cooled off by now. He looks at me over the brim of the cup. “No.”
“Really? I thought—” But that’s strange. “I thought you were wearing a singlet. That day in the gym.”
He puts his teacup down. He looks a little embarrassed. He scratches the back of his neck. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.
“I’m a dancer,” Azel says.
I didn’t expect that. I don’t know why, but it sounds… It’s just
Hearing it like that—I don’t know—I almost feel like I could start crying. I don’t start crying, of course. I rub my eye with the heel of my hand. There’s someone on my side. I’ve been wandering through a confusing mire since June. I can stop and rest now.
“That accident,” Azel says, but doesn’t finish.
“What is it?” I ask. I smile a wavering smile.
He bites the inside of his mouth. He looks contrite. “I don’t want to bring it up if it’s going to bother you.”
“It happened,” I say. “I can’t pretend it didn’t.”
He frowns apologetically, but continues. “It could have interrupted the functions in your brain. I don’t pretend to know anything about that. But—”
“You think…” Oh. “You think the accident’s the reason I saw that—had that—”
“Out-of-body experience. That’s what it was, wasn’t it?”
I falter. Out-of-body experience sounds so hokey.
“It’s just,” Azel says. “I believe humans can do things they don’t know they can do. I also believe science exists to explain the unexplainable.”
For a moment I imagine what it would be like if Kory were sitting here with us. Probably Kory would commandeer the conversation from the get-go: I read all about this in the American Science Journal, perfectly explicable phenomenon, nothing woo-woo about it, get me some potato chips…
“Well,” I say, attempting another smile. “I’m in the same boat as you are.”
Azel closes his mouth. His gaze is soft. I wish I knew what was going through his head. Just wondering about it, my face feels hot.
The front door swings open and claps closed. A petite girl strides into the sitting room, fluffing her thick black curls with an agitated hand.
“That study session was a bust,” the girl says. She stops and inspects me.
“Uh,” I say. I choke out an embarrassed greeting.
“This one looks stupid,” the girl prophesies.
Azel’s whole body jerks. “Layla!”
“If you’re going to invite girls over, the least you can do is warn me about it. I don’t want to come home to this garbage. You’re trying to make me puke, is that it?”
“Go upstairs!” His face is red.
“Fine,” Layla drawls. “God knows you’re not going to get any other opportunities. Wait until I tell Dad about this.”
Layla leaves the sitting room. Azel buries his face in his hands.
“Holy crap,” I stammer. And he lives with that…
“Tea!” Azel shouts. He leaps up like a bullet through a barrel. “I’ll make some!”
He scurries out of the sitting room through a side door. I watch him in a daze. Somewhere along the line, I realize, tea became codeword for A Plausible Diversion.
* * * * *
The pot on the tray is still steaming. Azel pours the tea into two delicate cups, strainers catching the leaves. The tea is rose-colored and rose-scented, a viable contender for Azel’s face.
“What are those?” I point at the snack on the tray, tiny little pastries glazed in honey.
“Luqaimat.” Azel won’t meet my eyes.
The tea tastes good. The luqaimat tastes better. Too many calories , Joss would have blanched. I smile at the memory. She can’t leave me if I carry her with me, the little swan on my wrist.
“You’re a gymnast?” I ask Azel.
He blows on his tea. I don’t know why—it should have cooled off by now. He looks at me over the brim of the cup. “No.”
“Really? I thought—” But that’s strange. “I thought you were wearing a singlet. That day in the gym.”
He puts his teacup down. He looks a little embarrassed. He scratches the back of his neck. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.
“I’m a dancer,” Azel says.
I didn’t expect that. I don’t know why, but it sounds… It’s just
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