John Umland
April 10, 2020 7:31 PM
Back to starting squares. by John Umland
Running into Lenore again had, of course, been inevitable. If he was honest with himself, John supposed he would have to admit that he had known this from the start. Julian's situation had made it a lot more likely to happen sooner rather than later, as it forced John west more often than he might have otherwise gone, but the only way it could have been avoided forever would have involved something going so radically wrong (something, for instance, like his sister finding out about...the past, with him and Lenore) that Julian banned one or both of them from the library as a result. Short of that, the two of them eventually finding themselves in the same place at the same time again without the blessed mitigating element of other people really had been a given.This, perhaps, was why he was more resigned than alarmed when it happened. He didn't even really feel surprised, he thought, until Lenore spoke.
"Truce?" she suggested.
John's eyebrows drew down into a scowl out of sheer reflex as he studied her face, wishing he was better at decoding the less obvious human social cues. "Depends on what you mean by that," he said finally.
Lenore half-smiled, one of those annoying little half-smiles of hers...he couldn't say exactly why they were so annoying, but they definitely were. "Are you really this suspicious of everyone?" she asked instead of explaining what she had meant.
"Yes."
"Interesting. It really doesn't fit at all with how Julian seems to see you, when she talks about you."
"Julian is my big sister," he said. "She's not part of everyone. Terms, Lenore?"
Lenore looked briefly annoyed - exasperated - something, but to his surprise, she obligingly stopped teasing him. Instead, she spread her hands, as though to demonstrate that she wasn't carrying a weapon, and said, "Ideally, starting over. Just pretending the past...eight years?"
"Since we met? I think it's more like...nine?"
"We'll go with that. Just pretending the past nine years never happened."
John saw an obvious problem with this right off the bat, perhaps just because of the setting. "Does this mean you're about to call me a peasant and try to Stun me again?"
John did not know exactly how seriously he had meant this inquiry. He hated himself just the same, though, when she laughed, and he was pleased on some level that he had made her laugh. Damn it, he was not supposed to be flirting with Julian's cousin! Or even doing anything that could be remotely construed as such with anyone! Had he not told Julian just a few weeks ago that he had entirely too much work to even think about people - like that?
"We can get off on a better foot this time, I think," she said.
"I'm not sure either of us is capable of making a good first impression on anyone," said John. "It's sort of antithetical to being us."
"Well - in a theoretical past where we've met before - you always did like to lecture me about how we should try to overcome our shortcomings."
"And you've decided you want to be a better person?"
"Hell no," laughed Lenore. "I'm perfectly happy being exactly who I am, thanks."
"Then what do you want, here, exactly?"
"On speaking terms at least," said Lenore. "Friends, even, if you can get your abnormally large nose...not all the way out of the air, exactly. You wouldn't be interesting anymore if you did. But low enough to at least look down on a mere sinner," she added dryly.
Whatever John had been expecting, it had not been that. He stared at her, allowing the remark about his lack of beauty to pass unremarked - if she expected him to react to a comment on that, then she knew him even less than he thought, because he was in fact possessed of decent vision and occasional access to mirrors, and he was quite used to the results of combining those two things and then dismissing it as a matter of no importance. It had no impact, after all, on what was between his ears, which was the only really interesting bit of a person anyway...at least, when looked at properly. Objectively. Without memories of past...indiscretions.
"Why would you want to be friends with me?" he asked finally.
Lenore shrugged. "You're interesting," she said simply. "I can find someone to sleep with anywhere - anyone with the right anatomy can be a toy boy. Someone with the brains and guts to argue with me - that's a rarer bird, as you might say."
And that's the problem. I can't just find...toy-people wherever. As much as I enjoyed arguing with you, too - that was part of it all. And even if I'm not thinking about - that - then when I'm having a good argument, I forget - objects in space - and people get close, and it's fine if it's Joanie or Clark, but you -
It was an impossible tangle. Absolutely impossible.
"So," said Lenore, as he stood there frozen, perfectly aware of her proximity to him right now, and unable to convince his feet that he ought to move away. "Hello. I don't know you. I'm Lenore." And she extended her hand.
He could refuse the gesture - and lose face. Even if she didn't complain to Julian just to cause him headaches - which she might well do; he knew her of old, after all, whatever she was saying about pretending otherwise - then walking off would still be giving her a victory. He would admit weakness, give her the high ground, or at least let her think she had it...
"Hello," he said stiffly, shaking her hand, despite the absolute absurdity of the entire thing. "I don't know you either." This was, in at least some sense, true enough; she was one of those people who was, irritatingly, always more than the sum of the parts he knew about. "I'm John."
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John Umland
Back to starting squares.
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