1
" My mother made a squeaking sound that might of been either " yes" or " help" .Poseidon took it as a yes and came in.Paul was looking back and forth between us, trying to read our expressions.Finally he stepped forward." Hi, I'm Paul Blofis." Poseidon raised an eyebrow and then shook his hand." Blowfish, did you say?" " Ah, no. Blofis, actually." " Oh, I see," Poseidon said. " A shame. I quite like blowfish. I am Poseidon." " Poseidon? That's an interesting name." " Yes, I like it. I've gone by other names, but I do prefer Poseidon." " Like the god of the sea." " Very much like that, yes" " Well!" My mother interrupted. " Um, were so glad you could drop by. Paul, this is Percy's father." " Ah." Paul nodded, though he didn't look real pleased. " I see." Poseidon smiled at me. " There you are, my boy. And Tyson, hello, son!" " Daddy!" Tyson [shouted]...Paul's jaw dropped. He stared at my mother. " Tyson is..." " Not mine," she promised. " It's a long story. "
8
" 1.I told you that I was a roadway of potholes, not safe to cross. You said nothing, showed up in my driveway wearing roller-skates.2.The first time I asked you on a date, after you hung up, I held the air between our phones against my ear and whispered, “You will fall in love with me. Then, just months later, you will fall out. I will pretend the entire time that I don’t know it’s coming.”3.Once, I got naked and danced around your bedroom, awkward and safe. You did the same. We held each other without hesitation and flailed lovely. This was vulnerability foreplay.4.The last eight times I told you I loved you, they sounded like apologies.5.You recorded me a CD of you repeating, “You are beautiful.” I listened to it until I no longer thought in my own voice.6.Into the half-empty phone line, I whispered, “We will wake up believing the worst in each other. We will spit shrapnel at each other’s hearts. The bruises will lodge somewhere we don’t know how to look for and I will still pretend I don’t know its coming.”7.You photographed my eyebrow shapes and turned them into flashcards: mood on one side, correct response on the other. You studied them until you knew when to stay silent.8.I bought you an entire bakery so that we could eat nothing but breakfast for a week. Breakfast, untainted by the day ahead, was when we still smiled at each other as if we meant it.9.I whispered, “I will latch on like a deadbolt to a door and tell you it is only because I want to protect you. Really, I’m afraid that without you I mean nothing.”10.I gave you a bouquet of plane tickets so I could practice the feeling of watching you leave.11.I picked you up from the airport limping. In your absence, I’d forgotten how to walk. When I collapsed at your feet, you refused to look at me until I learned to stand up without your help.12.Too scared to move, I stared while you set fire to your apartment – its walls decaying beyond repair, roaches invading the corpse of your bedroom. You tossed all the faulty appliances through the smoke out your window, screaming that you couldn’t handle choking on one more thing that wouldn’t just fix himself.13.I whispered, “We will each weed through the last year and try to spot the moment we began breaking. We will repel sprint away from each other. Your voice will take months to drain out from my ears. You will throw away your notebook of tally marks from each time you wondered if I was worth the work. The invisible bruises will finally surface and I will still pretend that I didn’t know it was coming.”14.The entire time, I was only pretending that I knew it was coming. "
11
" The tavern keeper, a wiry man with a sharp-nosed face, round, prominent ears and a receding hairline that combined to give him a rodentlike look, glanced at him, absentmindedly wiping a tankard with a grubby cloth. Will raised an eyebrow as he looked at it. He'd be willing to bet the cloth was transferring more dirt to the tankard then it was removing. " Drink?" the tavern keeper asked. He set the tankard down on the bar, as if in preparation for filling it with whatever the stranger might order. " Not out of that," Will said evenly, jerking a thumb at the tankard. Ratface shrugged, shoved it aside and produced another from a rack above the bar. " Suit yourself. Ale or ouisgeah?" Ousigeah, Will knew, was the strong malt spirit they distilled and drank in Hibernia. In a tavern like this, it might be more suitable for stripping runt than drinking. " I'd like coffee," he said, noticing the battered pot by the fire at one end of the bar. " I've got ale or ouisgeah. Take your pick." Ratface was becoming more peremptory. Will gestured toward the coffeepot. The tavern keeper shook his head. " None made," he said. " I'm not making a new pot just for you." " But he's drinking coffee," Will said, nodding to one side. Inevitably the tavern keeper glanced that way, to see who he was talking about. The moment his eyes left Will, an iron grip seized the front of his shirt collar, twisting it into a knot that choked him and at the same time dragged him forward, off balance, over the bar,. The stranger's eyes were suddenly very close. He no longer looked boyish. The eyes were dark brown, almost black in this dim light, and the tavern keeper read danger there. A lot of danger. He heard a soft whisper of steel, and glancing down past the fist that held him so tightly, he glimpsed the heavy, gleaming blade of the saxe knife as the stranger laid it on the bar between them. He looked around for possible help. But there was nobody else at the bar, and none of the customers at the tables had noticed what was going on. " Aach...mach co'hee," he choked. The tension on his collar eased and the stranger said softly, " What was that?" " I'll...make...coffee," he repeated, gasping for breath. The stranger smiled. It was a pleasant smile, but the tavern keep noticed that it never reached those dark eyes. " That's wonderful. I'll wait here. "
13
" He pulled the gun from his waist, running it along my cheek and back down to my lips. I blinked back the tears at sick game. He finally stopped the gun at my temple, my pulse fighting against the pressure of the cold metal of the gun.
“Do you think you are a good person, Kendall?”
“No, not at all,” I said, swallowing down the misery of my honest answer.
“Really?” he asked, one eyebrow lifting in confusion. “Are you afraid to die?”
I wished I could spit in his face for making everything so hard. I wished he would just pull the trigger and end it already. But a small part of me was begging and pleading internally that he wouldn’t shoot me.
“No, I’m not afraid to die,” I admitted, I closed my eyes and the tears fell quickly. “I’m not afraid of much in life. I’ve seen too much to be scared.”
He let out a sigh. I opened my eyes. He pulled the gun away from me.
“Well, damn. How the hell am I supposed to kill someone so miserable?”
I looked away. Even in death I was pitiful. "
― Holly Hood
16
" He smirks, shaking his head and letting his eyes wander. I watch him carefully, wondering what I can say to get him to leave. “I’m not leaving until you answer some questions. Plus, I’m holding your sketchbook hostage, so you might want to cooperate.”
I raise an eyebrow at him. I guess there isn’t much I can say. “This isn’t a hostage negotiation.”
He chuckles half-heartedly as his eyes take me in, almost sizing me up. “I guess I should introduce myself.” He holds a hand out for me to shake. “I’m Nathan.”
I stare at his hand for a moment. “Taylor,” I reply, meeting his eyes again without taking his hand.
He lets his hand fall back to his side. “At least I got you to say something non-hostile.”
“I haven’t been hostile,” I object.
His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, haven’t you?”
“Why don’t you leave me alone?” I snap. “Leave and don’t come back.” I move passed him, heading for my apartment. He can’t follow and annoy me if I lock the door.
“Where are you going?” he demands. I look back over my shoulder and roll my eyes at him, indicating the answer should be obvious: anywhere he isn’t. Once inside, I slam the door behind me.
“That was totally not hostile!” he calls after me, sarcastically. I quickly head for my bedroom door, slamming it, too. "
― Ashley Earley , Alone in Paris
18
" Now wasn’t the time for freaking out, I needed to know what the hell I’m dealing with. I took another breath and turned. Facing me was my former friend, their loyal sidekick, and the unwilling participant. “I’m insulted.” Devin’s eyebrow arched. “Excuse me?” “You heard me. Since I’ve been on this expedition, you’ve treated me as less than. You’ve insulted my intelligence, and not just mine but Mr. Chowdhry’s as well.”Devin rose from their chair and approached the tube. “I apologize Vee, I didn’t mean-”“I’m talking Dr. Strucker.” Devin returned to their seat. “If I’m one of the best scientists as you’ve claimed, then why haven’t you treat me that way? I want answers, real hardcore answers. Enough with the bullshit.”Marahi burst into applause as Nurse Hughes stared in disapproval. “What?” He inquired. Devin shook their head. “I said what I said Devin. I’ve been threatened, transformed into what I'm not sure, and you’ve kept me in the dark this whole time. It ends now.”Devin stood again and replied, “You’re right Dr. Foy. I haven’t given you the respect you deserve. For that I’m sorry.” They then turned to Marahi. “I also apologize to you Mr. Chowdhry.”Marahi grunted in acknowledgment. “I accept your apology. Now get to the facts. "
