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Study was basically all he did. He woke up, went for a run, showered and had breakfast. Went to classes, grabbed a sandwich for lunch and ate it outside on the lawn if the weather allowed it (and often even if it didn’t) while reading or writing some assignment, sharing his bread with any bird who came to him, then more classes, then studying in the library or in his dorm room. He went to the gym, or the dojo to train Krav Maga in the evenings, then grabbed take away or made a cup of noodles when he came home. More studying before trying to sleep. He barely spoke with anyone except when he was prompted to in class. Not because he was shy. He wasn’t. But because it was easier that way. People were dumb and cruel and he didn’t like them. They always found fault with him. Or, if they didn’t, they were drawn to him because of the wrong reasons. Prescribed him qualities and opinions he didn’t have or downright disagreed with. He told people his name was Nick. It wasn’t a lie. Not really. His middle name was Nicholas. It made people treat him marginally better. It didn’t make him stand out. It didn’t make him a target.
He missed his brother. Some nights that void inside of him got too great and he ventured out for a drink. Sometimes he just sat by the bar, sipping his drink. Content to just have people around him. Sometimes he sought physical distraction. Although he knew absolutely nothing about how to seduce and flirt, he had no problem getting laid. He’d go to the bar and look up on the drink list above, while tapping his AMEX Centurion card restlessly on the disk like he had trouble deciding what to drink. Someone would approach. Someone would always approach. Sometimes men, mostly women. Since he didn’t really know how to flirt he’d look up and meet their eyes. If they held his gaze and smiled, and were attractive enough for him, he’d skip ahead like if they’d had their introduction already. “I can’t decide what we should drink. Why won’t you decide for us?”
They were stupid. Anyone would buy them a drink. They could have chosen someone good looking, with charm and patience, who’d court them properly. Instead they chose him because his fucking AMEX told them he was rich. He wasn’t good looking. Sure, he was tall, broad shouldered and muscular for his age. But that was it. He was too pale. Too mean looking. Hs ears stood out too much. His eyes were too deep set, his eyelids too heavy. People had told him he looked evil too many times over the years for it to be a lie. Yes, he knew he wasn’t good looking. He’d still get laid, a blowjob, or whatever. He kept conversation to a minimum and he never brought anyone home. He didn’t do it often. Going out maybe once a month, when the hole left by his brother was too great. Fishing for sex maybe every second month.
He didn’t look his age. He’d hit a growth spurt at fourteen and when he went to college at 16 he could easily pass for 19. And when he got carded he had a very convincing fake ID that said he was 21. Everyone he’d had sex with since he came here had committed statutory rape without even knowing it. He thought it was hilarious. He also thought the legal age for drinking and consent was utter bullshit. Like he wasn’t old enough to make his own decisions. Fuck them. Fuck them all. They didn’t need him and he didn’t want them. As far as he was concerned everyone could burn in hell.
Then, nearing the end of his first year at Yale, she threw his world for a loop. She sat down beside him one day in English lit. He’d seen her before. Of course he had. It was hard not to. She had flaming hair and wore really colourful clothes, sometimes mismatched socks, shirts with movie or TV related prints. Sometimes she skipped across campus. That’s right. Skipped. So he’d noted his existence. But that was it. Until that day, that is…
She fell into the chair next to him and nearly bounced. Luci ignored her and proceeded to write in the pad before him. He sat in a half lying sprawl, claiming space and radiating boredom. The lesson hadn’t even started yet and he was already sick of it. So was their professor or it wouldn’t be so boring. He wished the professor would do them all a favour and realise his existence was pointless and just stay in bed. Or take a left turn instead of a right on his way to work, go to the airport and hop on a plane to Bahamas or something. Luci didn’t care if the guy put a bullet in his head or migrated to Thailand to live his dream. Bottom line was that he shouldn’t show up.
“Hi! I’m Charlie! You know what I just realised today? I’ve never talked to you despite the fact that you are here every single lesson and almost the whole semester has passed. Isn’t that funny?” the redhead chirped.
“Hilarious,” he deadpanned in an aloof tone of voice without pausing his writing.
“I just don’t understand why. I mean, you’re one of those who stand out.”
“I’ll just have to fly lower,” he answered, hoping she’d just shut up and leave him be.
Charlie’s laugh startled him inwardly even if he didn’t show it. “Dude. My radar is spherical, nothing eludes me.”
“Except silence.”
She laughed again. Luci rolled his head along his chest and against his shoulder to look at her with an unimpressed eyebrow raised. She was pretty in an exuberant over the top kind of way. Kind of like a manga character but without the pedophile wet dream overtones.
"I know, I know. I talk a lot. It’s to hide that I have something to say. So are you gonna tell me your name? Or should I just assign you one?"
His lip quirk in a tiny smirk. "It depends. What name would assign me?" he asked, slightly curious now in spite of himself.
She leaned back doing a thinking pose, like she was stroking a beard. "Hmm... I think, maybe... Draco. After Draco Malfoy."
Interest lost, he looked back at his paper and continued writing. "Sure. Pick one of the bad guys," he muttered.
She made an indignant sound. "He's not one of the bad guys," she protested. "He's just misunderstood. Forced to take sides based on his parents expectations on him and under the threat to lose their love and all his friends if he associates with the wrong people or doesn't do what they tell him."
Luci’s heart skipped a beat and he fought back the urge to turn and look at her. It hit way too close to home and he wondered if he was cellophane to her or if she'd just guessed. He remained silent, not showing how unsettled the parallel made him.
"I'm only seventeen," she offered, flitting from subject to subject like a butterfly. "I'm a lot smarter than I look."
He snorted. "Not much of an achievement," he answered defensively.
"I love to read. You do too, don't you, Draco?" she went on as if she hadn't heard.
"It's Nick."
"Nick. Right. I see you reading all the time. But English lit is boring. I expected it to be fun."
"It's because the professor hates his job and is very predictable. Now, Charlie, I don't mean to be rude," he said in a tone that made it clear that the opposite was in fact intended. "But I don’t sleep much at night and I intend to get some shut eye this lesson. I'd like to finish writing my notes before teach shows up if you don't mind."
"What? You write your notes before the lesson?" Charlie asked bemusedly.
"Yes. Like I said. Predictable."
"No way. Let me see that." Charlie snatched his notepad from him just as the professor walked in. Luci rolled his eyes, crossed his arms, and sunk deeper into the chair, legs splayed. He was almost done anyway. Charlie could look at or copy his notes if she wanted. He was going to catch some blessed sleep either way. He closed his eyes and drifted off as the professor began to drone.
He’s shook awake what seemed mere minutes later. "Dude! That was soo awesome! You nailed it to the letter almost. I filled in the stuff you hadn't written. I think you must be the coolest person I've met since I came here! You're so coming with me for lunch. Come on!" Charlie beamed at him. Most students had filed out already and the professor had fled first chance he'd gotten like he always did. Charlie stuffed his notepad into his messenger bag for him and began pulling him out of the chair.
Slightly confused he took his bag and let her pull him along. She kept talking as they walked. "That was some jedi mind trick or something. Do you do that every lesson?"
"No. Just his." He felt warmed and confused under the barrage of her unabashed admiration. When he did stuff like this in highschool people accused him of cheating. It’s not like it's a big deal if you had read all the material they were assigned this semester and had listened well enough to establish his thinking pattern. But to Charlie it apparently was a huge fucking deal and that was flattering.
Before he knew it he was sitting in the cafeteria for the first time since he got here, and as a consequence ate a real meal instead of just a sandwich. Charlie chattered on and on, unperturbed by his act of disinterest. "Star trek or star wars?" she asked.
"Haven't seen either."
"Dude, we got to fix that. My roommate is a bitch. Where do you live? I'm coming over tonight and we're gonna watch star wars on my laptop."
And so it went. He came home after training at the dojo, took a shower and heard a knock on the door. He opened still dripping wet, clutching at the towel around his waist and scowling at the intrusion. He hadn't actually thought she'd show up. If he had, he'd been nervous about it because he couldn't figure out what she wanted. She hadn't asked him to do her schoolwork, hadn't flirted with him (as far as he could discern), hadn’t tried to get money from him, or shown him disdain.
"Damn! You look like one of those greek athlete statues. If I was straight―boom, pregnant!" Charlie exclaimed and eyed him appreciatively. "I'm telling you Nick, you'd never guess that is hiding under your clothes. You should totally wear tighter shirts. You’d have tons of girls throwing themselves at ya."
He gave her a bored look. "Yes. Fighting off droves of mindless drones. Just what every guy dream of," he deadpanned dryly, but heat flushed his face, belying his unaffected act.
Charlie laughed. “Okay. You got a point. It would take away to fun of flirting,” she said and shouldered past him, still talking. “I’d ask if you live in the gym except I only ever see you studying so instead I wonder how the hell have you got time to keep a body like that?” She dumped her laptop case and the big plastic bag she’d been carrying on top of his writing desk and spun around to gesture from his head to his toes while looking at him expectantly. He blushed even redder. She didn’t look at him like the people he’d slept with did, more like ‘Wow. That’s a pretty car you’re driving. Where did you buy it?’
“I run every morning, go to the gym on weekends and train Krav Maga every other day,” he answered without thinking. Her interest just seemed genuine and unthought through which puzzled him. Normally he wouldn’t tell people he took martial arts. The less they knew about him the greater the surprise was when he was forced to defend himself.
“Krav Maga? That’s, like, some Israelian woooh yaaah, hooaa chow...” Charlie said and made some ridiculous karate-ish moves while she did those silly noises and it all just looked so ludicrous that unbelieving laughter overtook Luci. It bubbled at first, unexpected like the first hiccups. Then his brain caught on how funny he found it and he doubled over laughing, almost dropping the towel in the process. When he managed to collect himself Charlie was looking at him, her whole body drooping mournfully. “I was wrong, I suppose, huh?”
It almost set him off again but he restrained himself, limiting the threatening laughter to a wide grin. “Nope. That was quite correct. Krav Maga is an Israeli martial artform. Developed by the military. It just,... it doesn’t look quite like that,” he answered her and closed the door. Her posture perked up and she chuckled sheepishly. “Will you give me a moment to get dressed?” he asked her more out of courtesy than caring for an answer.
“Yeah, yeah. Sure, chiselchest. I’ll set things up while you do. I only see one chair so we’ll have to sit on the bed. No worries. I brought beer and snacks by the way. Did you know…” She went on talking while he got clean clothes out of the wardrobe and went into the bathroom to dry himself off and get dressed. In there he paused to look at himself in the mirror. It was the odd feeling on his face that did it. He realised he was still smiling broadly, and that brought the realisation that he hadn’t laughed like that for almost two years, maybe longer. He suddenly felt slightly panicked. He had never had anyone over in his home. Not here, not back where he came from. Any guests had been guests of father’s. He wasn’t exactly sure how you were supposed to tend to a guest unless it was about hosting elaborate dinner parties or have high ranking diplomats or military over that you had to measure every word with between-the-lines-duels for the upper hand. But then again, Charlie didn’t seem to follow conventions anyway. Nervous for the unknown he dries off, slips on his boxers, sweatpants and a tee before going back out.
Charlie stood by his desk with an envelope in her hand. Luci’s stomach lurched unpleasantly when he saw which one. “Is it a habit of yours to go through other people’s mail? It’s illegal you know?”
“It is. But only emails, I swear. Didn’t look inside and it was lying in the open. No laws broken. Lucifer? Is that, like, an alias or something?” Charlie asked curiously as he snatched the last letter he ever got from his brother out of her hands with an annoyed frown.
“It’s my birth name. Nicholas is my middle name. Not that it’s any of your business,” he answered and put away the only physical evidence of the biggest heartbreak of his life in a desk drawer. He didn’t lie about the name when caught out. It was his fucking name, despite the stigma that came with it.
“That’s so cool. That matches up with your weird habit of running in the morning.”
Luci scrunched up his face in puzzled annoyance. “What?”
“Oh, you know,” Charlie grinned and fanned out her hands to mimic the rising sun. “Prince of Dawn an’ all that jazz. I’ve seen you run once when I was doing the walk of shame. It was just during sunup. No normal person should stir that early without getting paid. Do your friends call you Nick or Lucifer?”
Luci’s annoyance transformed into bemusement. The girl in front of him was a complete mystery to him. He couldn’t figure out her thought process on things. Or how she seemed to be able to talk without drawing breath between sentences. She must have an extra set of gills or something that she used for breathing purposes while talking. That was the only rational (kinda) explanation.
Luci didn’t have friends but he wasn’t about to tell her that. But he did like Luci. Something Mikey used to call him on occasion and his bullies had tried to call him as a taunt but failed to raise his ire because he liked it. “Luci they call me.”
“Luci. That’s awesome. Kinda contrasts with your appearance but in a good way… or maybe not as much contrast when you think about it.” Charlie gets a thoughtful frown as her eyes shifted to an introspect look.
“My appearance,” he stated skeptically, not following her at all.
Charlie reanimated. “Yeah, you know. Like, super manly and zero fucks given? But that zero fucks given thing does go well with Luci. As Luci sounds feminine and you’re not. Feminine. Like, at all. So it’s a cool combo.”
“Whatever you say. Don’t tell people Lucifer is my real name, okay?”
Charlie nods. “My real name is Charlene. I don’t like it. Makes me feel like I need to wear a pant suit and sensible shoes. But then again, I wear sneakers and that’s pretty sensible. Don’t tell anyone my name is Charlene and I won’t tell on you, deal?”
Lucifer squinted and tilted his head. “Do you have gills?”
“I do. But one is broken at the moment. I meant to get it fixed but I haven’t had time,” she explained as she went to his bed and put the cushions up against the wall for them to lean on. She took a six pack of beers out of the plastic back she’d moved and put beside the bed. “Or technically, I’ve had time. I’ve just prioritized everything else instead, you know? There’s only so much time and I have used them once already. I was planning to remake them and use them for another costume, but… Why? Do you need them?” She turned around and handed him an opened beer while looking curiously at him.
He blinked, dumbfounded. Then he chuckled and shook his head. What a peculiar creature she was.
“So why’d you ask if I have gills?”
He felt that laughter threaten to spill over again and looked down on the beer in his hand, grinning. “It seemed like a rational conclusion at the moment. But now I wonder why you have gills?”
“Cosplay of course. Now come on.” She climbed onto the bed and patted the space beside her before putting the laptop on her knees. “Let's get this show on the road.”
He didn’t know what cosplay was but didn’t bother asking. He took a swig of the beer and sat down next to her and she hit play. Sometime during the movie they crawled under the blanket both making comments about the movie, drinking the beer and eating the popcorn she’d brought. It was nice, he discovered. She was nice. Why? He had no idea. She fell asleep during the second movie. He didn’t know what to do. He lifted the laptop off her lap, shut it off and connected it to an outlet to load it’s batteries, cleaned up the bottles and the empty snack bags, then stood beside the bed looking at Charlie. What on earth was he supposed to do with her? He didn’t know. It was the middle of the night already and raining sleet outside. Did she live far away? On campus? Should he wake her up and call a cab? He could pay for it. He went to brush his teeth while pondering what to do. When he came back she’d curled around his second pillow, hugging it to her chest, and snored softly.
He was really tired. It felt almost cruel to wake her up and throw her out. So he didn’t. He took a shirt and bundled it to something that would pass for a pillow and crawled back beside her in bed, but head to toe to make it less intimate. If she didn’t want to wake up beside his feet she shouldn’t have fallen asleep beside him, he reasoned. Then he turned on his side, facing away from her, further limiting the intrusion from his side since she wasn’t awake to answer the question of whether or not she was okay with sharing the bed with him. It took a while for him to fall asleep, just because of the strangeness of it all, but after a while he drifted off anyway.
“Uuurgh... Whatever making that noise, kill it.” Charlie sat up and blinked blearily at him, then at the rest of the room, then at his alarm clock which he shut off, then at him again. “Dude. This is legit the first time I’ve ever woke up next to a guy. What are you doing down there?”
“I didn’t want to force unwanted intimacy on you without knowing if you were okay with it but I don’t have a couch and I refuse to sleep in a chair.”
She smiled sleepily at him. “Aww. You’re a gentleman.”
“Really. I’m not.”
“Yes you are. You’re sweet. I like you. I’m gonna keep you. What time is it?”
Luci snorted. Sweet. Not likely. “5 AM.”
She fell back with a groan. “Why the hell are we awake at 5 AM?”
“I’m going for a run.”
“No you’re not. We’re gonna sleep in. Come up here. Can you spoon me please? Your blanket is so thin. But don’t get any ideas. I’m so gay I fart rainbows.”
Luci chuckled and considered his options. Missing out on his run one day couldn’t hurt. He ran because he liked it and spooning a pretty girl with no pressure to have sex sounded like a pretty damn good offer. In fact, it sounded great. Awkwardly he switched position to lay beside her. She’d abandoned the second pillow sometime during the night so he arranged it comfortably then edged closer to her on his side. He didn’t know how close she wanted him so he edged closer very carefully until she lost patience. “Oh my god, Luci. Stop pussyfooting.” She reached around, grabbed his arm and tugged him close, slotting herself into the mould of his body without shame.
“Don’t wiggle too much. If I’ve got a boner when we wake up, it’s your own fucking fault.”
Charlie laughed and wiggled a little, making Luci scoff, before settling in. She smelled good and it felt good holding her. Fucking awkward. But good. Falling asleep was easy. They didn’t wake until noon, already having missed two classes. (Luci didn’t have a boner.)
Luci got a hug when they parted and thought that would be it. That it was just a weird blip in his life. He was wrong. When Charlie said she was going to keep him she wasn’t lying. He didn’t have say in the matter. She kept seeking him out for lunch or on breaks. He didn’t understand why but he liked it. He got a warm, light feeling in her company and found himself missing her the hours they were apart. Not that there were many of those after the first week. Charlie dragged him along to LGTBQA meetings, book stores, the movies, to play video games, out to parties, or they just hung out together.
It took him about a month to figure out why she did it. She had told him that first day but it took him about 30 days to believe it―she liked him. She liked his grumpiness, his snark and sarcasm. She liked his arrogance and his intelligence. She liked how he would ask random questions that didn’t seem to make sense like the gill-thing. She liked his discipline when it came to studies and training. The very idea that someone liked him for him was so foreign to him that the idea hadn’t even occurred to him.
He liked her back fiercely. He figured some stuff out. Her appearance of being scatterbrained was not because she was, but because her brain made connections so fast a normal brain had problem keeping up. She was smart, very much so, in a different way than Luci. And when he listened to her talk he could hear her drop astute observations and conclusion mid-conversation and they just passed everybody by. Like she’d said that first day “I talk a lot. It’s to hide that I have something to say.” She too had breezed through school, moving up grades and being younger than her peers. Unlike for him, that had not caused bullying. They were born the same year, but she was nearly a year older than him, born January 1st as she was, while his birthday was November 21st.
Sometimes when he looked at her he’d be hit with an overwhelming sense of affection and the thought of not having her in his life made it hard to breathe. At first he wondered if he was in love. But he had no wish to have sex with her, or to kiss her. He didn’t want to get married and have children with her, didn’t want romantic fluff of any kind. Despite finding her beautiful the only way she turned him on was if she deliberately incited the physical reaction on purpose. She did that sometimes to tease him, finding it hilarious, like on the dance floor where she would use him as chaperon to keep other guys at bay while she scouted for a nice girl. Then she’d ride his leg or rub her ass against his crotch and laugh her ass off when he got a boner. But really, could you fault him for getting hard when a nice looking guy or girl rubbed themselves on him? She was a relentless matchmaker and he went along with almost every one of her schemes (not without a protest). She called him her ‘zucchini’ whatever that meant and they would cuddle and sometimes sleep together in the same bed. The trust that developed between them was absolute, and although they both dated others and sometimes had very heated arguments, nothing and no one could come between them. Not even Lilith when she showed up and Luci did fall in love.
Charlie was exuberant, bossy, and full of shenanigans. She adopted him and by doing so she saved him. Once again he was happy. Possibly more than he’d ever been.