21. Zeno
ZENO
“What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” his dad says with a shrug. “I just feel like you’re off today. Ergo, something is wrong.”
Zeno huffs a laugh. “Ergo?”
Bios scowls at him in that childish way of his, which is even funnier given that he’s hanging upside down on his office couch. He claims that he thinks better with more blood going to his brain. “Yes, ergo. Now don’t change the subject.”
“Nothing’s wrong, Dad,” Zeno sighs, not trying at all to hide the fact that something is definitely wrong. He needs advice desperately—what else is he meant to do? Ask directly? Never!
“Come on, bud.”
“Fine, yes, okay, something is wrong.”
“Wow, you came around quick,” Bios says, and Zeno shoots him a scowl of his own. His father is unaffected. “Are you gonna tell me what’s up, or should we keep playing the question game?”
“You know my friend—”
“Which one? Alexander? What happened? Did he say something weird?” his dad interrupts.
“I thought we weren’t playing the question game!”
“My mouth is shut,” he says, sarcasm dripping from his smooth voice that sounds so much like Zeno’s own.
“My friend Eudoxia. The one I told you about.”
Bios nods. “The one you had me put in a single, right?”
That was not Zeno’s finest moment. He still hasn’t told Eudoxia about it; he knows she’d be pissed. But she was so miserable with Kleitos and so scared for Arete and he couldn’t just sit by when his dad was on the Council.
“Yes, that one,” Zeno answers, not elaborating.
Bios rolls his eyes. “So, what happened?”
“You know how we spar together at night?”
“You’ve mentioned.”
“Well, we were doing that…” Zeno says before launching into a long-winded explanation of two nights ago when he was… and she was… and…
When he was an dumbass, basically.
“And now things aren’t awkward but they’re not like they were before. I think she knows how I feel and she doesn’t feel the same and she’s, like, trying not to think about it because she has enough to stress out about without me perving around, you know?”
“Okay, okay, slow down. Are you sure she doesn’t like you?”
“I mean… pretty sure.”
“Well, that seems like something you should know for definitely sure. And for the record, I wouldn’t call how you’re acting ‘perving around.’ It sounds like you might feel stronger than that. Like maybe you…”
Zeno knows where this is going. “Love her? Yeah, I thought we all knew that already.”
Bios laughs. “No, we did not all know that already. That’s a pretty big deal, Zeno—and there’s a very big difference.”
“I know.” He wishes he were just interested in her physically, honestly. Thoughts like those are easy to filter out. But love? He’s helpless to it.
“So, what should I do?”
Bios hums. “You’re sure you don’t want to just tell her?”
“I don’t know. I’m scared it’ll make things worse.”
“But isn’t that fear less important than how much better it could get? She means a lot to you. That’s why she has a right to know where your head is at.”
That kind of makes sense. He’s always thought of telling her as the selfish thing to do because it would screw everything up. But is it fair to keep her from knowing how he feels?
But what is he even supposed to say?
‘Oh, you know these past five years? Well, I’ve been in love with you for all of them and I just never told you. You feel me?’
But, then again, if he gets a formal rejection, he might be able to stop pining.
Yeah, likely story.
“I should tell her.”
“Oh, I wonder who gave you that fantastic idea? Unless it goes badly. Then it was your idea.”
“You’re the worst, you know that?”
Bios smiles wide. “Of course I do,” he agrees. “Now go get her, tiger.”
“I’ll try,” he says on his way out. Then, at the door, “I love you, Dad.”
“Forever and always?” he asks with a knowing smile.
It started as a joke. Forever and always. Something people say in stories and never in real life. But now it’s more than that. It’s a promise.
“Forever and always.”
Zeno psychs himself up all the way out of the Main Building and to the stairs.
This is it, Zeno. She’s either going to slap you or kiss you and you are going to enjoy it either way.
He’s going to knock right on her door and just… tell her.
Or maybe he shouldn’t.
Nope. No. You’re gonna tell her. And you’re going to do it tonight before you lose your nerve.
“Okay, okay,” he groans.
I’m the voice in your head, Zeno. You don’t have to respond to me out loud.
Oh, Forms, he’s going crazy.
When he gets to their floor, he’s tempted to throw his body the rest of the way down the stairs rather than talk to Eudoxia.
But he doesn’t do that. He walks into their hallway and turns towards her door and—
Oh, Forms.
All thoughts of confessing his love are thrown to the wind.
Because Eudoxia is crying—sobbing, really—in Ophelia’s arms. A breakdown the likes of which he’s never seen from her.
He’s never heard a sound as terrible as her hiccupy breathing. Suddenly the only thing he wants is for her sadness to stop. For her to smile.
He doesn’t say anything as he approaches them. Ophelia meets his eye and gives him a sad smile. Zeno tilts his head in a question.
When Ophelia nods, he wraps his arms around them both, Eudoxia now sandwiched between them. She looks up at him, tears coming in a steady stream and eyes glossy. He almost breaks down with her.
He just wants to beg her, don’t cry, please don’t cry.
Instead he holds her tighter.
Once he starts stroking her hair, her sobs die down.
“What happened?” he prompts gently.
Eudoxia takes a gasping breath through her tears and says, “Something horrible.”