Sentilia
Chapter 8

MAXINE

I woke up in my unmoved, undisturbed room. I was still burning inside.

His face was imprinted in my head; it wrung my heart and hurt my stomach. I was obscured by the urge I felt to fall asleep again, to see him again. I opened my eyes and tried to calm myself, but every time I blinked, I saw his beautiful face and was overwhelmed again. The pull and attraction I felt for him had nothing to do with the interest I might have had for Kleio. It was so much more intense.

Elis, Dr. Elis Skythe, was shorter than Kleio, but still towered over me; he had a muscular shape, but not too bulky. His protuberant squared jaw was covered in a short unkempt beard. He had a hint of a tan, blonde hair, and magnificent smiling eyes. His voice was low and husky. I kept replaying it over and over in my head.

He was the man of my dreams, literally; I hated the irony of it. I wasn’t sure what the feeling of true love was, but I had definitively never felt like this before in my life. I was taken aback by the intenseness of the feeling, and I wasn’t completely sure it was a good thing yet. He hadn’t spoken a word to me, but the sight of his face was enough to drive me crazy.

I laid in my bed, concentrating on my breathing, long enough for the enchantment to wear off faintly, letting reality put some clarity back into my hazy mind.

I finally got up when the sun did. I went to get breakfast, and met my parents in the kitchen. I was careful, this time, not to show any signs of emotion.

To my surprise and relief, they didn’t notice any change at all, or at least, they didn’t mention it.

I could have sworn that day dragged on slower than usual, as if every minute was longer than it’s habitual 60 seconds. Any of the feelings I felt during the night had passed. I was left impatient and anxious: I couldn’t wait to go to sleep, hoping I would dream about him again. I tried to distract myself as long as I could with one of the books I had gotten from the museum — all the while asking myself what time was considered too early to go to bed.

The book was called “Romeo and Juliet”, from William Shakespeare. I really got caught up in the story; I could feel every bit of romance, but also every bit of pain. For once I felt like I could almost relate to the characters, it made me feel a little less lonely.

Nowadays, finding a mate was such an easy computerized process. The book, however, reflected the heart; the love of the two poor souls was pure and true and it was such it should always be for us too. Though what I felt for Elis was the strongest I’d ever felt for anybody, I still had some sanity left. Enough to know that I could not love someone whom I’d just seen for a second, someone I’d never spoken to, a person that wasn’t even real.

If I ever got the chance to live fully and appreciate a love tie like Romeo and Juliet—I couldn’t help wishing—I’d never let that go.

I had read the whole book, and hadn’t even realized it was dinnertime until my parents called me from the kitchen. I had gotten in too deep with Shakespeare’s work.

I also had forgotten that we were all supposed to go to the neighbour’s house for dinner, so I was fazed for a moment when I saw my parents waiting in the entrance.

“Are you ready?”

“Sure... yeah,” I said, acting like I hadn’t totally forgotten about it.

The annual dinner at the Clipperd’s was not my favorite night of the year. Frankly, I didn’t see the point of sharing a meal with them at all; it was a boring outing. Plus, their daughter Robyn and I were always forced to make conversation. Of course, she was completely at ease with me. She had other friends she saw regularly.

I didn’t. So I wasn’t very used to being alone with a girl my age. What were we going to talk about? Schooling perhaps. But then, what? What could we possibly talk about for as long as an hour or two? Robyn was not the most interesting person to talk to. And it wasn’t like we were going to talk about our personal lives.

I stepped into the apartment. My parents and I were welcomed with handshakes from Miles, Pax and Robyn. I smiled shyly at Robyn and she invited me to her room to chat while we waited for dinner. I accepted politely.

“So, what have you been up to lately?” Robyn wore a courteously interested expression.

“Hum...” I’d have to pretend that I really wanted to be here, and like I really had something to say. I had to work hard not to roll my eyes at the attempt at small talk. If I had it my way, I would probably just be reading. Then again, my parents had asked me if I wanted to come and I’d said yes. I wanted to kick myself now. Being alone was really what made me feel most confortable. But Robyn was here, being extremely nice and it was an opportunity to socialize, so I took it: “I’ve been working, getting my lessons... I’ve been to the museum a few times lately, and I’ve discovered this cool oldies station I listen to a lot now.” Why did I just lie? I had listened to it once. There was a tiny glint in her eyes that lasted just short of a second—I frowned, and her face went blank: “Oh...yeah... I do know some other people who have gone there. I went once when I was little...” I knew that—we’d gone together the first time, “I didn’t learn anything worth sharing, on my part.” She looked away, feigning to coif herself in the mirror. We didn’t exchange much after that. Robyn’s door was halfway opened and I saw my mom eyeing us inside the room, and then Miles put his hand on top of hers and smiled, and she looked away. I frowned and pursed my lips, and then Pax knocked quietly on the doorframe—I flinched, having not seen him approach—and told us they were going to serve dinner.

We sat down at the table, and our parents started talking about Robyn and I, about our recent occupations, as if we weren’t there. I ate in silence, faking a smile when Miles or Pax would glance towards me.

The dinner went on and on. Robyn kept rambling about everything she could think of. I took long, deep breaths to keep myself from sighing or yawning. I constantly had to concentrate on her words to keep listening, but at some point I stopped trying. I hoped no one would address me, catching me off guard.

Finally we finished eating. I excused myself, saying I had a lot of studying to do for my upcoming exams. It wasn’t a lie, even if it could have waited, but any excuse was good to be alone and stop the nodding and smiling. My cheeks were starting to hurt; it was like a soft form of torture.

I thanked the Clipperd’s family for having me over, and escaped from the apartment. I entered ours, leaned my back against the door, and sighed heavily.

I felt slightly guilty for not being able to stand one evening, once per year, with company other than my family, but I couldn’t help it. Faking wasn’t my forte. Still, I kind of felt sorry for myself, and rolled my eyes just thinking about my poor social skills.

I went to sit down on my favorite chair. It was a purple upholstered antique my mom had gotten as a gift when she became a peacekeeper. It was from the 1990′s, reinforced with metal rods and the soft plush material was protected with a coat of sealant to preserve its colour and texture. My mom had received the chair with a note: “Let this gift be a constant reminder that, no matter the times, without hope there is no peace.”

I had dozed off on the chair when my parents came in. They were taking off their shoes in the entrance, and I realized I had left in such a hurry that I had forgotten my own shoes at the Clipperd’s.

I got up.

“I’ll be right back. Forgot my shoes.”

I skipped over to their door; it was cracked open. My parents must have forgotten to close it completely when they left. The computer could not sense my presence because the door was already open, so I put my palm over the metal sensor to open it, and naturally my arm was about to push forward, but it froze instead, my hand now hovering over it. I could hear Robyn whispering in the kitchen: “She looked so suspicious tonight, so nervous, do you think something happened with Maxine?”

“I don’t know honey, it sure seemed like she’s afraid of something.” Pax said with a snort. “It’s like she’s scared we’re going to say something to her. As if. She knows we’re all working on a trust basis. You should have seen the look of her face when I just mentioned the word isl—” He stopped talking mid-way through the last word.

I sensed something behind me before hearing our front door slide open. I swiftly pushed against the sensor to open the door all the way and notify the Clipperd’s of my presence. I jumped at the sound it made, and peeked over my shoulder. My mom was standing in our doorframe.

The Clipperd’s were all standing frozen in the kitchen; their mouths were open, but they were silent.

“Hi...um...sorry,” I smiled, “I forgot my shoes.” Silence. “Ok...well, goodnight.” Pax glanced at me and half-smiled. I grabbed my shoes, shut the door behind me and walked back to our apartment, faking a smile at my mom before heading inside; her face was inscrutable.

I went to bed earlier than usual, pondering what I had heard, trying to decipher it, trying to figure out what they were talking about: me finding something out? The Clipperd’s knowing something my mom doesn’t want me to know? And what did Pax mean by all of us? The only way to have answers was to talk to them. If my mom was scared of me discovering something, she would never said anything to me. I would have to schedule to see Robyn soon, to try and get her to talk. Fun.

I had so many things to think about, so many things going on in my life right now and I wondered if they were all connected. Impossible... but, my mom had never kept anything from me before.

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