2. Alex
Alex tugs on her earlobe, her gaze immovable from the pause symbol on her living room TV until it fades to black. Her robot vacuum stops buzzing as it docks at its charging station.
Tan liquid whirs into her favorite mug, and soon, warm nutmeg and cinnamon ferry a ten-year-old memory to the front of her mind.
She remembers the blurry, blue spokes rotating on her laptop screen under the world’s blurriest, plainest font: ‘Please Wait As We Process Your Request’.
She remembers her chin being inches from slamming onto the keyboard, and how the hand on the vintage wall clock had ticked on, warning her not to miss her train. Once she finally had, that warning had progressed to full-on taunting, reminding her that the next wasn’t for another hour, and her parents would be worried sick.
Despite that, she couldn’t bring herself to leave the café. Not when the answers she was looking for could have been one page load away. Or so she’d told herself.
Still, on and on those blue spokes had spun, until one of the baristas, Synthia, had placed a cup in front of Alex, even though she hadn’t ordered anything in hours. That kind of generosity seemed natural from someone who smelled like chocolate-chip cookies all the time. Alex had thanked her and lifted the cup before blowing away some of the steam. The first swallow had jolted her awake, but honey chased the spice like a sweet embrace. Turned out, Synthia’s off-menu chai was the answer to world peace. Alex’s world, anyway.
However, as she grounds herself back in the present, she realizes she may have had one too many cups trying to counteract the disorder from the beginning of her day. The universe dropped scoop after scoop in what turned out to be a hot mess sundae, so instead of caffeine, Alex should probably drink some water.
After grabbing her mug, she sits on one of three stools, and enters what’s a weekly vicious cycle. She’ll realize the width of the stools doesn’t comfortably accommodate her thighs, which will make her want to replace them, and sometimes she’ll even make it as far as finding a potential new set, but she’ll never follow through on the purchase.
That’s what the couch is for.
Alex exhales.
“Did you find them?”
“Oh, shit, Ben! You scared me!”
“What? How?”
“I…forgot we were on the phone. Cut me some slack.” Alex pulls the navy scrunchie off her wrist, leaving a ring of tiny dimples on her brown skin.
“Should’ve taken a nap while we were at the store like I told you, young lady. Now, did you find your keys?”
“I did not. That means they’re probably at…” Alex puts a finger under her nose, getting a mental whiff of stale clothes and cologne showers. “Nik’s.”
“Oh.” Ben’s tenor conveys plenty of familiar sourness. He can be as petty as he is pretty sometimes, but it’s often well warranted. That stubbornness was how they’d met, actually.
The second week of ninth grade, during what was probably only their fourth history class, their teacher had asked them to turn to page twelve and read a passage on Columbus’s voyage to the New World. The middle school level content had immediately bored Alex.
Then, Ben raised his hand and asked how they could possibly be expected to trust the text for the next three hundred pages, when they hadn’t even made it through a fraction of the text, yet it was already filled with such lies. He’d caught the teacher off guard and was sent to the principal, but all that did was inspire him to stage a protest.
For the next five days, the class (Alex included) remained silent, just as Ben felt the curriculum contributed to the erasure of native peoples, which included the Taino culture that ran through the veins of his homeland, Puerto Rico.
Not all of their classmates were on board for the sake of the culture, but they’d enjoyed the benefit of practically having a week off from that course.
The demonstration didn’t result in the entire book being shelved, but it did remove that part of the syllabus until a more accurate resource could be found.
Ever since then, Alex has admired Ben for sticking to his principles.
On the other hand, his beliefs can sometimes make him a bit judgy, particularly when it comes to Alex and who she spends her time with. Though, the reverse is often true, as neither has any siblings, so they’ve filled in those roles for each other.
All that to say, he knows her circumstances, which is why he only says, “oh”.
“Yeah. Yesterday was the first time I’d seen him in a few weeks,” Alex responds. “But I was pretty much in and out. Wasn’t really thinking about keys. They probably fell out of my bag or something.”
“I guess I get it. Not like he sticks around either. But don’t worry, I think you’ll graduate soon enough.”
“Graduate?” Alex scratches the root of one of her faux-locs.
“Yeah. I’ve always seen Nik as like a…seventh-year senior, and you’re like his beautiful, valedictorian-status, FWB. Sure, he’s pretty attractive, and maybe not as unpleasant as some of his other frat-bros, a.k.a. Komarov and his cronies, but his biggest accomplishment is being beer-pong king five years in a row. Meanwhile, you’ve got one semester left, and you’re set to get your Master’s and marry some CEO. And Nik’ll still think his hot, boxed wine and cold, leftover pizza are enough to keep you coming back for more.”
That’s…so specific.
And somewhat hilarious, considering Nik did offer Alex a slice before she left him yesterday.
Unfortunately, the amusement ends there. Nik might have a lot in common with the dense slackers Alex encountered during her college years, but his boss doesn’t. Their boss.
Alex never imagined working for a vampire like Ivan Komarov. He’s not the brooding heartthrob, either. He’s the bloodthirsty antagonist, draining Alex of her time and energy at his leisure. He often requests her services before the sun comes out, and she has no choice but to comply.
It’s been this way for the last seven years, but for some reason, today she’d felt the most hopeless she’d ever felt since the beginning. Today, all she could see was the face of her first love, the man who got her into this mess. All she could hear were his promises falling like fragile glass. His face, his voice…they both used to offer her happiness, but now, his memory holds nothing but heartache.
“Ay, Dios. I’m sorry, beautiful. I’ve been trying to cheer you up all day but I’ve just been making it worse, haven’t I?”
Alex toggles the mute button on and off so she can quickly sniffle and take a sip of tea. “Relax, I was only drinking some tea. But I laughed.” On the inside. For a second.
“If you say so. Did you ask Nik if he had your keys?”
“Did you ever ask out that guy you met at Salsa class?
Ben scoffs. “How are those equivalent?”
“They aren’t.” Alex partakes in a bit more tea and rolls her shoulders back, pleased they’re shuffling conversation topics. “I still want to know, though. Means you’ve moved on from Double D.”
Double D, the polite way to refer to “Dickhead Dougie”, who ended his nine-month relationship with Ben via text. Ben has since unfollowed, blocked, deleted, and trashed all things related to them, per Alex’s advice.
Meanwhile, it somehow continuously slips her mind to do the same. So, Double D has a weekly reminder of how phenomenal his ex-boyfriend looks every time Alex posts him.
“Why does moving on have to mean to another person?” Ben asks.
Thatmakes Alex laugh loud and clear. “Are you kidding me? I’m just giving you your own advice.”
“Well, keep it to yourself, because it’s horrible. What is it your judicious Dr. Bell taught us? We all move at our own pace? I guess I’m a snail. I’ve been trying to get the courage to ask him to be my dance partner for the last three weeks, let alone on a date.”
“Trust me—no judgment here. I’m the last person who should give relationship advice.”
“Very true.”
“Jerk,” Alex teases back. She finishes her tea while sending a text to Nik.
A far-off chime makes Alex’s eyes fly open. It’s so dark, it feels like they’re still closed.
She clings to the images of the dream she was having. The drink in her hand, in a coconut bigger than her head. The stunningly beautiful birds resting on the balcony. Pure sand, crystal-clear water…
It’s just a dream, though. Gone by the time she sits up.
Alex slides off her bed, then tip toes out of her bedroom to pick up her decrepit yet trusty bat. The door cracks open and she clutches at her chest with her free hand. “Seriously?!”
Nik’s shirt collar peeks from under a quarter-zip sweater, and his shorts barely pass his knees. When Alex’s eyes rise to the backward baseball cap covering his sandy-blonde hair, she almost loses it. He truly does look like he’d just arrived from his frat house. Thanks, Ben.
“If you’re gonna use that thing, at least look like you know what you’re doing with it.” Nik eyes her intently, then he adds, “What if I was someone dangerous?”
He delivers the question so unironically Alex isn’t sure whether to laugh or correct him. “Then I would have hit you in the head. Maybe next time give me a heads up?”
“You’re the one who was all ‘call me back ASAP’.”
“That was hours ago.”
“So you don’t want these?” Nik’s palm glints with a ring of multi-metal keys. “Mind putting that shit down, first?” he asks, strolling to take a seat on her couch. He smells like an ocean of cologne with a hint of mouthwash.
Alex coughs and nestles the bat into the umbrella stand and follows. “Well?”
Nik offers an empty, lukewarm hand instead and pulls her onto him. His nose against her neck distracts her for a moment, but she tears away.
“Can you at least put them on the table so they don’t go MIA again? My brain is…” Alex waves a hand. “Thanks to Ivan.” She pulls her ear and slides off his lap.
“What do I always tell you? We’ve all got our role to play.”
“Which would be fine, if I actually auditioned.” Ugh. Letting loose to Nik always leaves Alex worse off than if she were to keep it inside. She tows an orange blanket off the back of the couch and wraps it around her shoulders.
“Honestly, after all this time, who cares? Yeah, it sucks how you got here. But you’re here. If you finally let yourself, you’ll see you’re better off with us. You’ve got it pretty good as long as you do what you’re supposed to.”
It’s true, Alex is alive. She isn’t missing any body parts. She’s not squeamish anymore. But as Nik acknowledges, those are perks reserved for the subservient. So his “optimism” misses the mark, as usual.
If Alex were to tell Nik she fell off a ladder and sprained her wrist, he’d first check for any broken rungs. If Alex received the wrong sauce for her chicken tenders, Nik would want to verify the right one was on her receipt. So, his advice makes sense, because he’s not the guy to offer her cuddles or a listening ear. That’s why they don’t exactly talk much when they’re together.
The transition to the more beneficial part of their situation is always so instantaneous. There’s a joke, a touch, a look. Maybe all three. A moment that makes it tempting to forget what they are. That their relationship is one of convenience. It’s transactional. In the end, it’s a consistent and usually satisfying reciprocity.
Alex feels the change now as Nik casts a wicked gaze on her lips.
“I can remind you of one of the advantages, if you’d like,” he says, his forearm wrapping around her back. “Unless you’d rather get back to sleep. Although I could probably help you with that, too.”
“You want to hear what I really want, though?” she whispers.
“What?”
Alex slips her hands into Nik’s sweatshirt pockets, and he pulls her closer, his cool breaths tingling against her neck. His mouth glides from ear to chin before attaching itself to hers. It’s not an extremely enthusiastic kiss on either end, probably because Alex isn’t as covert as she hoped.
Nik guides one of her hands to his shorts’s zipper, only to veer it to the right, where she feels some ridged metal poking out.
“Wrong pocket,” he says, matching her low voice.
Alex smiles into another kiss and removes her keys, then Nik’s hat.
They leave a trail of clothes to the bedroom as his hands move from her shoulders to her ass in a matter of seconds. Nik’s touch is a bit rough from some cracked skin, but his mouth is a different story. It’s steady and…satisfying.
He makes good on his assurances, liberating Alex’s remaining tension.
Afterwards, he lies beside her, glistening and panting. Just for a few moments, though. Then he sits up and begins to put on his questionable choice of clothing.
Alex raises a green duvet over her bare shoulders. “Are you going straight home?”
“Yeah.” Nik stares with a tilt of his head.
“What?”
“Just thinking about what you said before.”
“Don’t. I was just…talking out loud. I know things are different now.”
They aren’t. They won’t be until Alex finishes paying her debt to Ivan. Until she fulfills all the duties of her role. Until then, she’s stuck giving one hell of a performance.
“Exactly. You have nothing to worry about. We all know you’re not that dumb anymore.”
Alex tucks in her lips. Her ribcage tightens with a comeback, but she releases it. “See you later.”
Nik nods and leaves the bedroom, and after a few minutes, Alex hears her front door close.
Maybe I am.