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The bridge leading south out of Pelican Town was old and worn, but sturdy. It had been there since Alex had moved in with his grandparents and, with any luck, would still be going strong when he had kids of his own. Its planks creaked beneath his sneakers as Alex made his way across, headed for the beach. He was looking to clear his mind from the cluttered mess it had become lately.
For a long while, feelings of doubt and uncertainty had been slowly collecting within him, settling over his mind like a layer of dust in a neglected attic. Alex had been more than happy to ignore it, locking it away out of sight and out of…well, out of sight at least. But then Orsin had come along, throwing open the door and stirring it all up at once.
Stepping off the bridge and onto the sand, Alex took in a lungful of clean, summer air fortified with the tang of the sea. The empty stretch of beach just outside of town proper had always been the perfect spot to toss the old gridball around and zone out to the rhythmic lapping of the waves. Alex let the breath out steadily and twirled the ball he’d brought between his hands. The weather was perfect. Unfortunately, it seemed he wasn’t the only one who thought so.
To Alex’s dismay, someone had already claimed the beach for their own private sports practice. It couldn’t have been Sam and Vincent, content to keep to themselves or even join in on a game of catch without asking any difficult questions. He wasn’t lucky enough for it to be Sebastian, moping alone on the pier. No, of everyone it could have been, of course it had to be Orsin.
When Alex had first heard rumors that the old farmer’s grandson would be taking over the property west of town, Alex had expected someone with a farmer’s build. You know, the kind of thick, ropy muscles that physical labor both demanded and cultivated. That’s why, when Orsin had first stepped off the bus, Alex had thought he was a tourist.
The man had bleached-white hair with the faintest tint of blue, or maybe purple. Alex had never decided which. He kept it short and stylishly swept to one side. He wore flashy jewelry – like diamond stud earrings and gold chains – and, if Alex was being completely honest, dressed like a butch lesbian in a period reenactment troupe. That was why Alex had originally mistaken him for a woman. Orsin was as a far cry from the lumberjack Alex had been picturing as you could possibly get. He looked better suited to the pages of a magazine, as a model in an ad for fancy cologne. Even now – shadow fencing across the sand, dancing and lunging in his flouncy, white shirt and tight, black pants – Orsin looked more like a pirate from the cover of a fantasy novel or a Sorcery: the Convergence playing card than a small-town agrarian.
And yet, he’d had those overgrown fields cleared by the end of the same spring he’d arrived and was growing enough produce by mid-summer to feed the entirety of Pelican Town. Against everyone’s expectations – and warnings – he’d ventured to the bottom of the mine and won the approval of the notoriously stringent Adventurer’s Guild. Orsin had turned Alex’s every assumption of him on its head and showed now intention of stopping.
Before Orsin could catch him staring, Alex made his way over to say hello. After all, he didn’t want to give the wrong impression. Alex waved when Orsin caught sight of him and paused his fencing.
“You’ve got some pretty sweet moves there. I’m surprised you don’t have your own cheer squad of babes swooning on the sidelines.”
Hefting his training sword up to rest on his shoulder, Orsin gave him a queer look.
“Haley did that once. But I kept encouraging her to join in. I’m pretty sure she hates me now, because she never showed back up. Abigail joins in sometimes, though. She even brings her own sword.”
“Oh well.” Alex shrugged. That certainly sounded like Haley. Still, he didn’t want to discourage Orsin by saying so. “Don’t sweat it. One day, we’ll both be famous and swarmed with adoring fans. You as a dashing folk hero and me as gridball’s most valuable player.”
When Alex had first gotten his head out of his ass and actually started making an attempt to get to know him, he’d asked Orsin about his hobbies. Even though he’d been actively trying to be better about assuming, this scene had been exactly what he’d pictured: this unrealistically romantic portrait of a man dressed for the stage, effortlessly making sweat look sexy. Fencing, ballet, ballroom dancing, acrobatics; something physically demanding that favored a sleek, agile build like Orsin’s over bulky muscles. After all, even Alex knew you didn’t have to be swole to be athletic.
But no, Orsin had only taken up the sword in his first season living in Pelican Town. And even then, it had only been to defend himself against the monsters infesting the local mine. Instead, Orsin had claimed that his only hobbies were reading and sewing. Again, not the background one would expect from someone willing to take on a farm all by himself.
At the time, not able to reconcile what Orsin was telling him with what he could see with his own two eyes, Alex had relegated him to the same category of benign weirdo that Emily and Abigail inhabited in his mind. People that Alex didn’t personally click with but that were pleasant enough when he ran into them at Pierre’s.
Except that, recently, he and Orsin had begun to click. When Hickory Farm had first gotten chickens, Orsin had started bringing fresh eggs to the Mullner house along with gifts of seasonal flowers and wild leeks he’d foraged. Orsin had quickly become one of the few people Alex’s grandpa would smile for, and his grandma had entrusted him with her secret cookie recipe. Hell, Dusty didn’t even growl at him anymore.
He’d been nothing but supportive of Alex’s dreams of going pro, even when Alex had been a dick about it. Now that he thought about it, Orsin was the only one aside from Haley that Alex had talked to about his parents in a long time. It was…weird. Having been one of the most popular guys back in high school, Alex had had plenty of male friends in the past. But none of them – nor Alex’s feelings for them – had been quite like Orsin.
Orsin lifted the bottom of his loose, sweat-drenched shirt to mop his face, giving Alex a clear view of his impressively tight core.
“Woah. You’re actually kind of ripped, aren’t you?”
The farmer snuck him a mischievous smile.
“You sound surprised.”
“Guess I shouldn’t be, huh? What with you working the farm and all. It’s just…the hair, the earrings, the blouses-“
“They’re poet’s shirts, thank you,” Orsin corrected.
“I just didn’t take you for the sporty type.”
Orsin shrugged. With his training sword resting on his shoulder, the gesture made it look weightless despite being metal.
“Admittedly, I’m not. I did have to put in the hours rehabbing the fields early on, but I’ve got most of the farm automated at this point. But I can’t automate monster-slaying. At least, not that I’ve yet found. If only. The mines would be a lot safer, then.
“Anyway, that’s where all this muscle comes from: swinging steel at slimes. It’s just a matter of course, you know. Not anything I strove for.”
What an unsettling thought. The idea of letting himself be pulled along by the current of life without any attempt to steer for the shore of a particular goal was as terrifying as a riptide. It wasn’t that he needed to optimize his life to razor precision with no regard for his own well-being. Alex greatly enjoyed both working out and playing gridball. Exercise felt amazing, and who could resist the thrill of competition or the rush of a hard-won victory?
There was also the fame, the prestige. The satisfaction and reassurance of being seen as attractive, as desirable. As wanted. That was the real crux of it. Making sure he would be perceived and remembered the way he wanted to be trumped whatever might distract Alex’s heart in the short-term.
“Isn’t it the same for you?”
Alex nearly jumped out of his skin at Orsin’s sudden question. He must have zoned out.
“You always seem so natural, like you’re pursuing what you really love.” Orsin smiled sheepishly. “That’s all I’m doing, too.”
A twinge of guilt pricked Alex’s heart. Orsin said it with such sincerity, it made him feel shallow; not to mention cowardly. What was he supposed to say? That, actually, he was only in it for the fame? For attention? Admitting out loud that it was all to prove he was worthy of the love and admiration of total strangers who might only exist in his mind would have sounded pathetic next to the farmer’s sold sense of self.
Instead, Alex changed tactics, going on the offensive against his rapidly growing uncertainty rather than letting it back him into a corner.
“I don’t know about that. I mean, you put a lot of time and effort into your appearance, right? You’ve got such a distinct look. You make your own clothes and everything!”
With a non-committal tilt of his head and an uncomfortable smile, Orsin unlimbered his sword from his shoulder and planted the tip in the sand between his feet.
“Well, yes. But I just make thing I’ll feel comfortable wearing. It may look fancy next to contemporary fashion, but it’s just what feels right to me. I only learned how to sew because I couldn’t buy the kind of clothes I wanted off the rack. So, that’s also a result of being who I am, rather than trying to cultivate an image.”
And with that, Orsin had cleanly cut through Alex’s last remaining shred of hope that he could simply throw a comfortable blanket judgement of known unknowns over the farmer. In his most dazzlingly mystifying move yet, Orsin had dodged Alex’s final assumption about him. At this point, Alex almost expected it. Yet the off-kilter sensation of the ground tilting under his feet as his brain attempted to course-correct mixed badly with the closeness growing between them. Alex was left desperately clinging to their budding familiarity like a life preserver. It made him dizzy and left a bitter taste in his mouth.
And the most frightening part was that he liked it. It was new and exciting, something Alex had never known he longed for because he’d never known it existed.
As much as he wanted to, though, the price of indulging that aching desire swelling within his ribs would be accepting that he – already in his 20s, at the prime of his life – might not be the man he truly wanted to be. That he might not even be the man he thought he was. And that was too rich for his blood.
Forcing a smile, Alex rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.
“Heh. Good answer. Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out, huh? Well, as long as you’re happy.”
Orsin smiled back as though Alex’s entire world wasn’t actively dissolving around him, sending another pang of guilt shooting through his heart. Alex didn’t deserve a smile like that from someone as honest as Orsin, especially for such cowardice.
“Right back at ya. So, here’s to both our continued success and happiness.”
Drawing his sword from the sand, Orsin gave a strange salute. Closing his eyes, he brought the blade down vertically in front of himself until his empty hand met the one gripping the hilt. His eyes snapped open the moment they connected, their deep blue hue washing over Alex like a sudden wave. Whatever the gesture meant, it looked cool as hell.
“And, hey, look at us: talking philosophy. Just like you wanted.”
Alex blinked at him.
“Huh? This stuff counts as philosophy? I thought we were just killing time.” Despite his best intentions, Alex hadn’t gotten around to doing any studying after mentioning it to Orsin previously. The fact that he hadn’t realized they were philosophizing probably made that painfully obvious, thought. “What kind of philosophy were we doing?”
“Mm…not sure. Metaphysics?” There was a twinkle in Orsin’s eyes. “Maybe we could figure it out if we put our heads together. Say, at the library? We could start a two-man study group! If you like, that is.”
“It’s a date!” Alex exclaimed a little too enthusiastically. His heart did a backflip, and his cheeks burned. “Er. You know what I mean.”
Turning back towards town, no longer in the right headspace for relaxing, Alex headed home. Hopefully, he would be able to pump enough iron to burn off the adrenaline spike that had come over him out of nowhere, now surging through his veins.
Looking back over his shoulder, Alex called out, “Um… I’ll let you get back to it. Catch you later!”
As Alex crossed the bridge into town, the same thought from earlier returned: that, with any luck, this bridge would still be here to see his children safely to and from sunny days spent playing at the beach as well. The first time it had crossed his mind, it seemed like such a romantic idea. He’d always wanted a family and kids. Pelican Town was the perfect place to raise a family, and getting to share all the things he loved about it with another generation seemed like the perfect way to return all that it and its people had done for him. But now that his thoughts were a freshly jumbled mess, he found himself asking, ’My kids with who, though?’
If he’d asked anyone in town, they probably would have put money on it being with Haley. Alex himself had been no different until a minute ago. They were childhood friends, and he’d assumed that what he felt for her was the kind of love that characters in chick flicks gushed about. Haley was unarguably drop-dead gorgeous; she loved to watch him work out and hung around whenever he was manning the ice cream stand in summer to help him pass the time. They were the classic sweetheart story that every couple who’d been married for half a century loved to tell. Alex had always seen a future waiting for them, assuming neither of them fell head-over-heels for anyone else along the way.
And then there was Orsin. The upstart. He’d been a fixture in Pelican Town for a year and a half now, and yet he was still one big mystery to Alex. There was no nailing the guy down no matter what angle he attacked from. Where Haley was a comfortable certainty, Alex felt lost with Orsin, like he was stumbling through unfamiliar woods in the pitch dark. Yet his heart would give a leap of joy whenever Orsin stopped by the deliver eggs, and whenever he ran later than usual, Alex couldn’t help but worry until he showed up.
Not only that, but the relief he’d felt when his grandparents had embraced Orsin as though he were part of the family had been massive. It was natural that he’d be happier when they and his friends got along, and yet it had surprised even Alex how much it had meant to him in this instance. In fact, it seemed like everything he felt for Orsin got run through an amplifier behind the scenes. At times, even the positive feelings he had for the farmer were so strong that they hurt. Even so, he wouldn’t have traded them away with the pain for the world.
For now, Alex pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind so they could gather dust with everything else he refused to face. They were as incomprehensible as Orsin was, and torturing himself with riddles wouldn’t do Alex any good. No, he would get his exercise for the day, enjoy a protein-packed dinner, and look forward to starting fresh tomorrow.
It didn’t occur to Alex until he was already home and halfway through his third set of squat lifts that they hadn’t picked either a day or time to meet up for their study date. Oh well, he thought. It wasn’t like they didn’t run into one another every other day in such a small town. Alex’s heart fluttered at the thought. Taking it as a sign that he’d been slacking on his cardio, Alex added two laps around Cindersnap to his impromptu exercise plan. He would work these kinks out or collapse trying.