TEN THERE’S A BOY IN MY ROOM #2
‘Oh, so that’s what that is?’ He grins, pulling the blanket over his legs and up to his waist.
No longer distracted by his lower body, my eyes move to his lips. What would it be like to have those lips on mine? Opel had that pleasure earlier tonight. I’m not usually a jealous person but seeing her kiss him… now I know how Jacob felt in those Twilight movies.
‘Can I… ask you something?’ I say.
‘Of course,’ says Tariq, adjusting himself so he’s leaning against my bedside table.
‘Are you and Opel…’
‘Together?’ He laughs. ‘No, we’re not a thing. Stuff happened in the past, but we’re just friends now.’
‘But she kissed you?’
‘Yeah, don’t you kiss your friends?’
‘Not on the lips!’
Tariq laughs. ‘You feel like you’re missing out or something?’
He winks, and my entire body goes weak. I’m hopeless. ‘No, I just…’ I lie on my back, pulling my eyes away. ‘So, you’re into girls, then?’
‘I am.’
Any chance I had of those lips being on mine has now vanished.
‘But I’m into boys too,’ he says, folding his arms on the edge of my bed.
My heart beats a little faster as the mattress jolts a little. I swallow deeply. ‘Oh, so you’re…’
‘I don’t really do labels.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to—’
‘Imagine a box of chocolates, and each chocolate was a different gender. Now, some people only like certain chocolates, right? Only dark, or only ones with nuts. Pun intended.’
I laugh.
‘For me, I enjoy every chocolate in the box. It doesn’t matter about the wrapper, or what’s inside; it’s about the deliciousness of each individual… chocolate. So, no matter how someone identifies, it’s all equally sweet to me.’
Wow. That’s a really beautiful way of explaining it. ‘I like that. You see the beauty in everyone.’
‘I guess, yeah,’ he says. ‘And what about you?’
‘Well, if we’re using your analogy, I guess I prefer my chocolate on the nuttier side.’
We both laugh. Tariq settles back against the drawers, fiddling with the corner of the blanket.
Silence passes between us.
There’s another curiosity I have. A name that has kept coming up tonight.
‘Who is Thomas?’ I say.
Tariq looks at me. He’s hesitating. Is he surprised by my question? Perhaps my sudden jump to a new topic. But I can’t help it. I have so much swirling in my head, it’s hard to order it.
‘Thomas was a Keeper,’ Tariq begins, his voice softer now, ‘and we were really close. He and Opel… they were more than that. They had this bond, you know? One day, we were investigating this old, abandoned church, and we came across Draven and his Dark Friars. There were so many of them. We fought, but we were outnumbered. I tried to persuade Opel and Thomas to retreat, but they insisted on fighting. We thought we had them, but then…’
‘Draven killed him, didn’t he? He killed Thomas?’ I say.
Tariq nods, his eyes a little glossier than before.
‘He slit Thomas’s throat right in front of us. Opel was too distraught to fight, and we had to get out. There was fire everywhere. That was the last time I saw Draven, until tonight.’
That’s why Opel is so short with me. Katie aside, I am Thomas’s successor. She probably thinks I’m replacing him somehow.
‘That’s why Opel reacted the way she did tonight, and why I had to go after her. Going up against Draven alone is suicide.’
There’s a tug in my gut. If Draven took down a fully trained Keeper like Thomas, what chance do I have?
‘I think sometimes she forgets that it’s painful for me too. I miss him, all the time,’ Tariq says, staring at his lockscreen on his phone. There’s Thomas, I assume, his arms around both Opel and Tariq. They look so happy.
‘I’m sorry for bringing it up,’ I say.
‘It’s okay. I haven’t spoken about it with anyone, not even Opel.’
I don’t envy him. Losing a grandparent was difficult enough; I can’t imagine losing a friend. Losing Lily or Jack would crush me.
Maybe I should change the topic before things get morbid.
‘Your powers.’ My words seem to drop out of nowhere. Smooth, Liam.
‘What about them?’
‘Earlier tonight, with Draven, you held fire, like… in your hand. It was amazing!’
Tariq looks down at his hands, avoiding my eyes as if my compliment embarrassed him.
‘Thanks,’ he says.
‘Can you do anything else?’
His eyes find mine again, and he smirks. ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.’
I raise an eyebrow. ‘You know what I can do.’
‘And now I want you to show me.’ He clears some room on my bedside table and sets an elbow down.
‘We’re going to arm-wrestle?’
‘Yes, and you’re going to beat me.’
I shuffle on my bed and mirror his arm on the table. I compare my undefined arms against his bulging biceps.
‘I may look strong, but you’re stronger,’ he says, interlocking his fingers with mine. ‘Trust me.’
We begin. My arm already feels strained. My palm is getting more sweaty with each moment that passes. I can’t tell what face I’m making, but it can’t be pretty. Tariq seems way too calm. He pushes on, and my arm starts to give way. Any moment now and I’m going to lose.
Tariq’s eyes lock onto mine. ‘Concentrate. Think about the times you’ve accidentally used your powers over the past few days. How were you feeling when those strange things happened to you?’
Punching the vending machine. Dropping my phone in the shower. Throwing that ball at that guy. Outrunning the Dark Friars. The Wretch in the storeroom. ‘I was frustrated, or scared. I was angry.’
‘Big emotions, right? Use them,’ he says. ‘Direct them.’
I close my eyes. I try to relive those memories.
Tariq’s grip tightens.
‘Find that drive, Liam. Focus. You want to beat me. You want to win.’
A surge of heat courses through me. My skin tingles.
‘You’re doing it!’ Tariq says.
I open my eyes. I am doing it!
There is no strain anymore. His force against mine suddenly feels insignificant. With newfound determination, I muster all my strength and push on. The impact as I slam his hand down causes the lamp to topple, but he catches it before it falls.
‘Yes, Liam!’ He ruffles my hair.
I fall backward between my pillows. A sensation lingers, but I’m unsure if it’s from my power, or from Tariq’s touch.
‘That felt amazing,’ I say, breathing heavily.
‘Right?’ says Tariq. ‘It’s like it’s been inside you forever, bursting to come out.’
I grin. ‘Is it always like this for you?’
‘At first it was, yes. The intensity lessens as you learn to control your abilities.’
The rush of adrenaline has me pumped.
‘Now, you have to show me yours.’
Tariq considers for a moment. ‘Turn on your main light. You have my pendant, and we don’t want any Wretches turning up.’
I do as he says and return to my bed, crossing my legs, an eager school kid at the front of the class.
Tariq picks up his glass of water from the desk; I inadvertently catch a glimpse of the scar on his back again.
How did he get it? He must have fought many battles in the past. The encounters he has as a Keeper must leave him battered and bruised often.
Suddenly the graze on my forehead doesn’t seem so bad.
‘Grab yours,’ he says, motioning toward my empty glass.
I comply.
Tariq places his hand over his glass of water, and in an instant, the liquid starts swirling within it. A miniature whirlpool, trapped. It’s a sight beyond anything I could have imagined.
‘No way!’ I say.
He raises his hand, and the water follows suit, leaving the confines of the glass and dancing freely in the air, creating a twister spectacle. The light from above us turns the room into an underwater disco. It’s enchanting.
The water approaches me, floating right in front of my face. It’s serene. Tariq navigates with delicate precision, ensuring the water remains suspended, just shy of my glass’s rim.
He lets his hand drop, and the water drops into my glass. My T-shirt gets a little splashback, but I’m too enthralled to care.
‘That was incredible,’ I say.
Tariq beams.
‘So, you can control fire, water…’
A soft whistling sound escapes the darkness outside. Tariq’s grin grows mischievous as his gaze shifts to the open window. It seems to respond to his unspoken command, inching further outward on its own.
With his arm outstretched and eyes shut tight, Tariq’s focus intensifies.
Before I can fully comprehend what’s happening, a forceful blast of air erupts into the room.
The gust is so powerful that, for a moment, I fear the window might shatter.
Posters flutter, torn from their places on the walls, and scraps of paper dance around us.
A scarf hanging on the back of my bedroom door springs to life, wrapping itself around Tariq’s head. Amid the chaos, we laugh. I remove the scarf from him.
As the gust finally subsides, the room falls back into silence, and poster remains float gently down to the floor.
‘That was wild,’ I say.
‘Sorry about your posters.’
I shake my head. ‘Don’t worry about it. I’m just amazed at what you can do. So, you can control the elements? Fire, water, air…’
‘Earth. Yep. I’m the Elementa Keeper. Although I’ve only really mastered two out of the four.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, my earth control is non-existent, and as you can see, my air-bending needs some work.’ He chuckles.
I collect a handful of shredded paper from my lap and toss it into the air. ‘Well, I think you’re amazing.’
A moment lingers between us, his eyes locking with mine.
‘Can you show me fire again?’ I say, before I fall any deeper into him.
There’s a noise from outside my room. Tariq stands, his blanket dropping to the floor. I get up off the bed. We both listen.
It’s the front door. Mum’s home.
I hurriedly turn off the main light, signalling to Tariq to do the same with the lamp. The room goes dark. I hold my breath as I listen to her movements down the hallway.
‘What if it’s not your mum?’ Tariq whispers.
I edge closer to the door and Tariq touches my arm.
The familiar sound of a clinking teacup and kettle. I relax.
‘It’s her, trust me,’ I say.
After what seems like an eternity, her bedroom door finally closes, plunging the flat into silence once more.
‘All clear,’ I say.
‘Won’t she check on you?’
‘Nah, my light is off. She’ll assume I’m either still out or asleep.’
I settle back onto the bed, but this time Tariq is next to me.
‘What are you—’
His finger is on my lip.
‘You wanted to see it, didn’t you?’ he says, shuffling closer to me.
A tiny flame appears, casting a soft glow that illuminates Tariq’s face. He’s so close that I can feel his breath on my skin.
He hovers the flame above his fingers.
I cautiously move my hand around it, feeling its warmth.
‘It’s hot, right?’ Tariq whispers.
My eyes find his, and time seems to stand still. His face flickers in the light, and I find myself losing track of everything around me. My heart beats a little faster, my breath quickens. No one has ever made me feel like this.
‘Yeah… hot,’ I say.
His lips are shiny and smooth. I bet they’re soft too.
‘We should probably get some sleep,’ he says.
Tariq closes his hand, extinguishing the flame, and the room plunges back into darkness.
‘Sleep… right. Yes,’ I say.
He moves away, taking his place on the floor.
‘Goodnight,’ I say.
I lay my head on my pillow, but I won’t be sleeping any time soon.