8. Ophelia #2
When she stomps away, he doesn’t follow her. He settles instead for yelling derogatory names after her that even make his lackeys wince. But why would she care? She’s been called worse by the Mothers on her best days.
And besides, she is a woman on a mission.
The handprint will keep girls away but now it’s time for phase two: fueling his overwhelming inferiority complex.
She scans the crowd until her eyes settle on dusky skin, pulled back hair, and wide caramel eyes all wrapped up in an Auxiliary uniform.
She saunters right up to him, no hesitation. Kleitos’ glare is fire on her back.
She taps the boy on his shoulder, and he turns quickly, like he’s very eager to escape the conversation he’s in. Leaning against the wall next to him is a pretty girl with golden-brown skin.
And, look. She is a girl’s girl to a fault, really, she is. She would never step on another girl’s toes. But, now? Now she’s after vengeance. And vengeance takes precedence over girl code.
“Sorry,” she says, hand on the girl’s forearm. “Do you mind if I have a word with him?”
The girl looks her up and down, then shrugs. “Sure. Come find me later, Eudoxos,” she says. Then she touches Ophelia’s arm with a wink. “You can find me too, if you like.”
Ophelia head-to-toe blushes as the girl walks away.
“Bye, Theokleia,” the boy says with a wave. Theokleia finds her way onto the dance floor.
“She is so cool,” Ophelia says, both because she is cool and because Ophelia might as well talk her up in front of the boy she just stole from her.
“Very,” he says curtly.
Then she remembers Kleitos and her brilliant vengeance plan with this boy—Eudoxos, Kleitos called him. “You’re the one Kleitos was yelling at earlier, right?” she asks with no preamble.
Eudoxos’ eyes widen. “Yeah, I am. I usually try to stay out of his way.” He mutters the excuse quickly, like he thinks Ophelia is coming to confront him on Kleitos’ behalf.
“Wise. But today it seems like you wounded his pride a bit.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because to fix it he came right up to me and pushed me against the wine table.”
“Forms, are you serious?”
“Oh, yeah.” She smiles, sharp. “But don’t worry. I slapped him out of the way. He’s looking at us right now, if you peek across the room.”
Eudoxos does, and his brows fly up when he sees a fuming Kleitos watching their interaction.
“So, I have a proposition,” she continues.
Eudoxos’ brows stitch together. “Go on.”
“He hates you and he wants me. So how do you think he’ll feel if I only have eyes for you? He may just perish.”
Eudoxos hums, not quite at ease but definitely intrigued. “I like how you think.”
She offers him a friendly wink.
“So what’s your name then?” Eudoxos asks. Then he pauses to consider and adds, “You look beautiful, by the way. I noticed you right when you walked in.”
He doesn’t tell her she looks hot or sexy or cute. He compliments her with the sincerity of someone who has absolutely no sexual interest in her.
How refreshing.
“I’m Ophelia. And you’re Eudoxos.”
“Yes.”
“Sorry about shooing that girl away, Eudoxos. It seems like she likes you. I just couldn’t waste an opportunity to make Kleitos mad.”
“It’s okay. She’s not… I’m not interested.”
“Too bad,” Ophelia muses. Then she asks, “Can I get a little closer to you? Maximize the jealousy and all.”
Eudoxos snorts and nods. Ophelia loves people who are down to have fun and mess around at others’ expense.
Does that make her a bad person? Maybe.
Does it make her interesting? Definitely.
She and Eudoxos are around the same height, five feet or so, so they fit together well when she swings an arm around his shoulder and he puts one on her waist.
“Look at us, so sexy,” Eudoxos jokes, and Ophelia lays her forehead on his shoulder to suppress her smile.
“Oh, Ophelia,” Eudoxos whispers. “This is gold. I think Kleitos is going to burst the vein in his temple.”
She laughs again, and they both lean into each other until they’re practically hugging. Maybe it’s strange how quickly she’s found herself comfortable in Eudoxos’ company, but what can she say? They just click.
The night continues, and the two of them remain draped all over each other with Kleitos hanging behind them looking ready to have an aneurysm. Eventually he gives up, and Eudoxos cackles as they watch him leave the cellar alone. Not even his lackeys follow him out tonight.
But Kleitos leaving doesn’t separate her and Eudoxos. They drink cup after cup until the music starts to slow down and partygoers sprawl out in their drunkenness, hoping to recover enough to make it to their beds.
She’s pretty sure neither she nor Eudoxos were keeping track of how much they drank, but as she lies down on a crate full of wine bottles, she realizes she’s more than tipsy. And, judging by the instability with which Eudoxos makes his way onto the crates, he is too.
“You know what I was thinking?” she asks with a hiccup. “If you were a Priestess we could just hang out all the time.”
Eudoxos gasps and then floops over to face her. “We would— that would be so much funner than here. Here is so sad. I don’t have any friends who are girls. I miss girl-talk.”
Ophelia finds that the idea of Eudoxos in girl-talk isn’t ludicrous to her at all. “Did you do girl-talk a lot before coming to the Academy?”
“Oh, all the time. All the girls in my fam— family did.”
“Were you—” her drunkenness has removed all sense of delicacy. “Were you a girl before?”
Eudoxos’ eyes go wide with visible fear. More than fear, really. Anxiety that Ophelia can tell is completely frantic, thoughts firing away in his head that he has no control over.
“It doesn’t matter to me if you were,” she explains quickly. “I know a lot of Producers are that way. Personally, I think everyone should have the right to express their identity however they choose. Even the Leadership Classes.”
It’s always seemed unfair to her that Priestesses and those at the Academy have no options when it comes to showing their femininity or masculinity.
Everything here is black and white because the Leadership Classes aren’t meant to have ‘desires,’ as if feeling out of place in your own body is a choice.
“Oh, I see what you think,” he slurs, curling up. “No.” Then he amends, “Well, of course I think that everyone should be… themselves. But that’s not me.”
Ophelia lets a momentary silence fall as Eudoxos collects his thoughts.
“I am a girl,” Eudoxos eventually whispers. “Like, now. But I can’t be. Not here. Never here. Because there’s lots of—no.”
Oh, Forms, they are really drunk. If that was a real confession, will Eudoxos regret telling her in the morning?
Eudoxos sticks his—her?—hand out for a shake and says, “Eudoxia. Nice to meet you.”
Ophelia pulls her into a sloppy hug instead, worries about their inebriated state forgotten due to… her inebriated state.
“We will be best friends, Eudoxia. For so many evers. Just, all of the evers.”
Eudoxia gasps again. “Oh, I’ve always wanted a real best friend. I mean, I have a best friend but he’s… things are complicated with him.”
“Oh my Goodness, do you have boy drama?”
“No!” Eudoxia yells. “Well, maybe?”
Ophelia grabs Eudoxia’s hands and demands, “You must regale me with the tale. Spare no details.”
Eudoxia laughs, and they talk and talk until most people have filtered out and sobriety—plus the hangover it comes with—hits them like a hovertrain.
“We should probably leave,” Eudoxia says, words sure now that the alcohol has mostly left their systems.
“That might be wise.”
“Just… could you not tell anyone what I told you tonight? We’re drunk and—I guess I just really needed to get it off my chest. I like you, Ophelia. I want to be friends.”
“I won’t tell a soul,” she says.
Eudoxia sighs, and pulls her in for another hug. There’s something about being around her… that feeling when you’ve found someone you’ve been looking for.
“So, you’d like to be friends? I meant it when I said I missed being around women. It’s hard. And isolating. To pretend for so many hours of the day.”
“I can imagine. I hate being around men. Having to act as one? No thank you.” She pauses.
“And, yes, I’d like to be friends. You’d love my Priestess friends too.
They’re like my sisters. Even though sometimes it’s hard.
I don’t know if they really… get it. I think you and I have a sort of drive that others don’t really understand. You know?”
“Some people are blessed with ignorance. Others with knowledge that they are meant for more. Neither is better or worse. You’re just the latter surrounded by the former.”
“That was very profound.”
“Whatever you say.” Eudoxia checks her ring. “Forms, it’s late.”
“Oh, the journey home is going to be a nightmare.” She already feels a migraine coming on.
“I forgot you have a long way to go,” Eudoxia says, eyes narrow like she’s deliberating with herself. “You could sleep over if you want,” she continues finally.
“Really?” Ophelia asks.
“If you’d like. And, Forms, this is probably really stupid because I’ve known you for like five minutes, but I feel like I was meant to find you here.
” Eudoxia releases a breath like she’s surprised at herself.
“There’s something else. Another secret.
And if you tell anyone, I will not hesitate to kill you. ”
There is no joke hidden in those words. “I won’t. Unless it’s putting you or someone else in danger.”
“No, it’s more… protecting someone from danger,” Eudoxia responds, shoulders falling.
“Only one person knows about this. Zeno—the boy I was telling you about. But it’s killing me, handling it all by myself.
And I need someone else to bear this with me and something about you makes me want to trust you. ”
“You can, you know. I don’t spill secrets. And we’re best friends now. Why would I betray that unbreakable vow?”