Unwholesome Things - Part 14

Beta by LP, all remaining mistakes are mine.

The next morning, Oren grabbed his phone from the nightstand before he had finished wiping the sleep from his eyes. He slid his finger across the screen, illuminating it to check for missed calls.

A blank screen stared back at him. Not even a text message indicator.

He checked the time: 8:37 a.m. Rezo should be awake by now. But it was possible Marikit wasn’t.

Oren forced himself to set the phone down. He was being stupid. He should do something to distract himself instead of pathetically waiting by the phone. No one willingly dates the desperate.

No sooner had he resolved to not check his phone for at least an hour when it rang.

“Hello, Rezo,” Oren answered on the first ring. Because that didn’t seem desperate at all.

“Hi, um sorry I didn’t get back to you last night.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He paused, tying to act like he wasn’t going to barrage Rezo with questions without at least trying to be casual first. He failed. “Did you talk to her?”

Rezo sighed and Oren’s heart withered in his chest.

“I did,” Rezo said.

“And she said no.” Oren was beginning to wish he’d stayed asleep.

“Not exactly, but it’s not quite resolved yet.” Rezo paused. “I’m working on it.”

“Right.”

“She’s fine with the idea of me dating you, she’s happy for us actually.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Oren didn’t believe she was happy for them for a second.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Maybe I can help.”

“Oren.”

“Come on, at least tell me what it is.”

“She wants me to do something with her first.”

What was left of Oren’s heart stopped, shattered and fell to dust. “Like something physical?”

“Physical?” Rezo sounded confused. “As in labor? No, not like clearing trees or something like that, more like extortion.”

“Wait, she wants money?” Oren felt a rush of relief. “If the problem is coming up with it, I can—”

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

Oren frowned. If Rezo planned to let lack of money be the only thing that kept them apart, when he had access to plenty, Oren was going to have a lot more than a sentence to say about it.

“She’s not after money, well she is, but not mine,” Rezo said. “She wants me to help with a fundraiser.”

“For what?”

“Her class is going on a trip to Mexico City.”

“But I thought you liked helping friends and family with work, and things, and stuff...”

“Usually, but not with what she wants me to do.”

There was an awkward silence that Oren wasn’t inclined to relieve.

“Don’t worry,” Rezo continued. “She’ll come to her senses soon.”

“I’ll help.”

“Um…” Rezo paused. “We don’t need to muscle her into it. I think she’ll get there on her own.”

“Not that. I want to help with the fundraiser.”

“You won’t when I tell you what it is.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Oren smiled into the receiver even though no one could see him. “I get to be the knight in shining armor.”

Rezo snorted.

“I’ll be the one saving the Rezo in distress.”

Rezo groaned. “The only one that’s going to be in distress is—”

“Shh.”

“Is—”

“Don’t ruin my moment. Exactly how many times do I get to be the hero? Let me revel.”

Rezo laughed. The sound warmed Oren all the way through. He was pleased to be entirely responsible.

“Fine,” Rezo said with mock frustration. “I’ll pick you up at noon.”

“Today?”

“Did you want to wait?”

“No, but where are we going?”

“To the university.”  

Oren hesitated. He imagined the university would be crowded, and with his peers, no less.

“Still want to go?” Rezo asked.

“What are we doing again?”

“Far be it from me to ruin the adventure and spoil the surprise.”

“Rezo…”

“I’ll see you in a few hours.” Rezo’s voice was warm even as he hung up.

#

Oren didn’t care how lame it made him; he waited in the downstairs hall, peering out the window every few second once his phone said fifteen till noon.

He was excited. And nervous. But it didn’t matter because today he was earning himself a boyfriend.

Knights do not get nervous. He grinned at the thought. He should have dressed in white.

He heard Rezo’s car before he saw it. Like a serenade of crickets chirping their way into the driveway.

Oren opened the door and bounded to the car.

Rezo leaned over and opened the door. “I didn’t even have to wake you up this time.” He smiled.

“That was one time. You can get over it already.” Oren slid into the passenger seat and fastened his seatbelt.

Rezo dropped the transmission into drive as he turned the car in the direction of the university.

“If we do, um, officially start going out.” Oren asked. “Do you want to keep it a secret around your friends?” He already knew what the answer was going to be. Unlike him, Rezo actually had a reputation worth preserving.

“Why?” Rezo’s voice was light. “Are you embarrassed of me now?”

“I’m being serious,” Oren said.

Rezo kept his eyes on the road. “It’s too late for that.”

“What?” 

“I told Jeff that I was interested in you.”

“You did?” Oren realized he was staring at the side of Rezo’s face and forced himself to look at the road. “How did he take it?”

“Claims he knew it all along.”

Oren smiled. “Sounds like what he’d say.”

“He’s not supposed to tell anyone else until we make it official.” Rezo glanced at him.

For a moment Oren said nothing, preferring to sit in silence—or as much silence as could be in a car that made more noises than an undirected symphony—then Oren reached over and pinched Rezo’s arm.

“What the hell?” Rezo jerked, making the car swerve slightly.

“I was making sure I wasn’t dreaming.”

“You could have caused a wreck.” Rezo shot him a look. “And you’re supposed to pinch yourself.”

“It hurts less if I pinch you.”

Rezo closed his eyes. “What have I gotten myself into?”

“Eyes on the road,” Oren lectured, even as Rezo’s eyes were already opening.

Rezo shook his head. “That’s it. You’re in trouble.” For a second Oren thought he saw a grin but it was too quick to be sure.

“Not just for that—it was a joke.”

“This hand…” Rezo grabbed a hold of Oren’s wrist. “Is not going to get away with pinching others and causing reckless driving.”

“What are you doing?”

Rezo ignored him. “So this hand has earned a long session of time out.”

Oren was stunned to watch as the offending hand was placed on Rezo’s thigh. He looked up to see Rezo’s expression, but he only smiled and covered Oren’s hand with his own.

“There, that should keep it out of trouble,” Rezo said.

Oren laughed. He leaned closer to Rezo in his seat, for once enduring a punishment he didn’t mind at all.

#

“This is what you were afraid of?” Oren gave Rezo a skeptical look. “Selling hats to kids?”

“That’s not the worst part. Look again.” Rezo took a step back from the display table as if he wanted to be further away when whatever horror was plaguing him made itself apparent to Oren.

The table was covered with knitted hats made to look like different animals. Oren picked one up. It had orange and brown splotches that were vaguely giraffe-like. If that wasn’t enough of a clue as to what is was, it had eyes and ears and antlers that stood up. Flaps hung down to cover the wearer’s ears, terminating in a puff of yarn. It was cute enough to induce nausea, but nothing exceptional.

Then Oren realized what was bothering Rezo. It was adult-sized.

“They’re cute, you just won’t admit it,” Marikit said, from behind him.

Oren turned just in time to watch her enthusiastically wrap her arms around Rezo to plant a kiss on his cheek. Rezo squeezed her back while Oren fought his impulse to forcibly separate them. It was like the hug that wouldn’t end. Instead Oren focused on stilling his heartbeat and keeping his mouth shut.

When she finally released him she turned to Oren and gave him a quick hug, catching him off guard. His body was stiff but he forced himself to reciprocate. He noticed while she’d pressed her front against Rezo, she only let her side contact Oren. She didn’t kiss him either.

She was holding a hat with long whiskers and pointed ears.

“How do you expect to sell any of these?” Rezo asked. “It’s almost eighty degrees outside.”

“It’s not about keeping your head warm, it’s about looking adorable.”  

“We’ll see how well that theory works for you.”

“Don’t be so negative!” She smiled at Oren as if she expected him to side with her. “I bought this one for myself.” She slipped it onto her head, her eyes suddenly huge beneath the frame of the deep rust color. “I’m a fox.”

Of course she was.

“Excellent.” Rezo said. “Now you can attract juvenile men from miles around.”

“Not to mention furries,” Oren said.

“Like what?” Rezo looked at him with a troubled expression. As if there was some new threat he hadn’t previously been aware of.

“They’re mostly harmless.” Oren hesitated. “If you don’t know, then I don’t really want to explain.”

“Stop being difficult.” Marikit playfully shoved Rezo.

Oren was proud that he didn’t give in to his urge to tell her to stop touching him.

“Aw, is Rezo driving you crazy already?” Jeff said as he approached the stand.

“You made it!” Marikit beamed at him, but she didn’t offer a hug.

Jeff didn’t know how lucky he was. Oren could still feel the unwelcome touch of her arms on his skin.

“I made one to donate,” Jeff said, holding up a hippopotamus.

Marikit grinned and took it from him. “Thank you! I’ll put it with the others. I need to grab something from my car. Will you guys watch the stand until I get back?”

“As you wish,” Jeff said, giving her a dramatic bow.

He was rewarded with a brief nervous laugh before Marikit made her exit.

“I don’t think she got my reference,” Jeff said.

“No one gets your references,” Rezo said.

“Maybe I should have added ‘Princess Buttercup.’”

“I doubt that would have helped.”

“From the Princess Bride?” Oren asked.

Jeff turned to leer at him and Oren took a step back in alarm.

“I am obviously pursuing the wrong person.” Jeff looped an arm around Oren. “Come here, oh love of my life.” Oren pulled away and the embrace morphed into a headlock.

“So…” Rezo said, apparently indifferent to Oren’s plight. “Is this your spirit animal?” He poked at the hippo.

“No, it’s a sign of my devotion.” Jeff released Oren, who was quick to put himself on the other side of the stand, far away from unwanted and dubious signs of affection.

“I think knitting puts you firmly in the friend zone,” Rezo said.

“It’s crocheting and I don’t want to hear it. You have officially lost all rights to give advice on dating women.” He pointed at Rezo then Oren and back again. “You failed.”

Rezo let out a huff of air in nonconsensual amusement.

“Why a hippo?” Oren asked. “I mean, these are for girls, right? What girl wants to be a hippo?”

“One with self-confidence and an aversion to stereotypes,” Jeff said.

Rezo rolled his eyes.

“So which ones are you guys wearing?” Jeff asked.

“I’m selling them, not wearing them,” Rezo protested.

“It’s not as effective if you don’t demonstrate the product.” Jeff grinned. He held up something white and black. “Cow?”

“Absolutely not,” Rezo said.

Oren grinned. “A cow isn’t right for him. He needs something more ferocious, like…”Oren glanced over the selection, rejecting several before he found the one that was just right. “This.”

“A rabbit?” Rezo frowned.

“It’s a compliment. Haven’t you ever heard the phrase ‘breed like a...’”

Rezo gave him a look.

“That is not a rabbit,” Jeff said as if they had personally offended him. “Marikit made that one herself and she did an excellent job with the details. It’s a wallaby.”

The idea of Rezo wearing a hat made by Marikit was considerably less funny.

“See? Even Oren is up for this. I’ll be a…” Jeff seemed to feel only a few seconds were needed to make a decision as important as this one. “Koala.”

“Manly,” Rezo said.

“Just watch, this is totally going to get me laid.”

“I’ll be a bear,” Oren grinned. “For obvious reasons.”

Rezo pressed two fingers to his forehead and sighed.

“Going to have to work on the hair growth, buddy,” Jeff said. He made a face. “Actually, I don’t need any of that man to man imagery. Let’s focus on ladies in these.”

Rezo poked at a zebra the way Oren poked at some of his mother’s more adventurous dinner ideas.

“Hurry up and pick something,” Jeff said, going for a threatening tone, but the koala ears made it hard to take him seriously.

Rezo sighed and snatched the wallaby hat off the table. He slipped it on.

“Happy?” Rezo asked Oren.

Before Oren could decide if he was or not, Rezo was distracted by something behind him.

 “She’s back.” Rezo pointed at Marikit as she approached.

“If the two of you don’t mind, I’m going to stay behind and help man the table,” Jeff said, his eyes fixed on the approaching figure.

“Go for it,” Rezo said. He scooped up a basket of hats and turned to Oren. “Want to work together?”

“God, yes.” Oren was glad they weren’t staying to talk to Marikit again. He doubted she would have let him team up with Rezo. Also, he only had so much self-control.

Rezo smiled and together they started walking down one of the halls.

“So why isn’t this bothering you?” Rezo asked once they were alone. He pointed at the Oren’s hat.

Oren pretended to think about it before making an exaggerated sigh.

“Not all knights are lucky enough to get the shining armor. Some of us have to make do with the crocheted variety.”

Rezo smiled as if amused at the image. “Seriously though, you used to have such a hard time going out in public and now here you are on campus wandering around with a bear hat on like it’s nothing.”

Actually, now that Rezo pointed it out, it was odd. He took a moment to think.

“I think it’s because of the hat in a way.” At Rezo’s raised eyebrow he continued. “I’m supposed to look ridiculous. There’s no point in worrying about all the students with infinitely better social skills than me, because it’s hopeless. It’s freeing.”

“Your social skills aren’t that bad.”

“Oh really?” Oren rolled his eyes. “At our first meeting you bent me over the bed and spanked me.”

“That’s true.” Rezo nodded. “And I think you did an excellent job of communicating that need to me.”  

“I wasn’t asking for it.” Oren shoved him, but it wasn’t hard.

“I think we’ll have to agree to disagree.” Rezo moved as if to dodge an expected blow.

But Oren only smiled.

#

Rezo’s “bunny” ears turned out to be a big seller, a fact that Oren was inclined to credit to the model over the creator.

When they returned to the stand, Oren was disheartened to see the supply was still plentiful. Even with their success, it was beginning to look like they were going to be here all day.

Three middle-aged women were talking with Jeff and Marikit.

“Oren!” Marikit waved at him as if there was any possible way he could miss her.

He frowned. Rezo was right next to him. It didn’t make sense that she only addressed him.

“Come meet the family,” she said as they came closer.

“We’ve made a killing,” Jeff said. “How about you?”

“We did alright,” Oren said.

“Shockingly,” Rezo added, at which Marikit stuck out her tongue.

“This is Oren?” said one of the women. She was dressed a little nicer than the others. Oren wondered if she was Rezo’s mother. It would make sense.

The women exchanged a glance. That was a bad sign.

“Yeah, I’m Oren Gilby,” he said, trying to project friendliness, or humor, or something other than the mounting panic in his system. He held out his hand and was annoyed to see it was trembling. It was very important that he make a good impression. The last thing he needed was someone else opposing their relationship.

A woman dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt took his hand. Her eyes narrowed marginally as she gave him a tight smile.

“My son has mentioned you,” she said.

“I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Diaz,” Oren said, polite enough to make even Norman proud.

The other women shook his hand in turn. The nicely dressed one was Marikit’s mother and the third was her aunt. He forgot their names almost instantly, disturbed by the coldness of the exchange. He wondered what they had heard about him.

“Rezo?” Mrs. Diaz said. For a moment Oren panicked that she was going to ask him something horrible like why he’d brought Oren, but instead she only said, “I have a cooler in the car with drinks. Will you get it for me? It’s parked in the visitor zone.”

“Sure.” Rezo nodded and took the keys. He squeezed Oren’s shoulder before he left.

Instead of being comforted by the gesture, Oren found himself glancing to see if Mrs. Diaz had seen. But if she had she didn’t give any indication of it. Her attention was back on the conversation with Marikit and the other women as they restocked the table.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jeff said.

Oren jerked at the sound of his voice. He’d been so preoccupied with worry, he’d forgotten Jeff was here.

“About what?” Oren asked, although he knew.

Jeff gestured toward the women.

“I can’t help it,” Oren said. “I don’t know what they’ve heard about me.”

“Definitely nothing bad.”

Oren was surprised by how sure Jeff sounded.

“What about my drawings?”

“No one would have mentioned that to them.”

“But they acted like they didn’t like me.”

Jeff gave him a wry grin. “Rezo’s mom sees something in you she doesn’t like.”

“What?” Oren asked, even though he was certain he didn’t want to hear the answer.

 “The possibility that she’s never going to be a grandmother.”

“What does that have to do with…?” Oren didn’t need to finish because he got it. “Does she know about Rezo?”

“I’m sure she suspects.” Jeff shrugged. “He does have a brother, so it’s not like there’s no hope for her.”

Oren couldn’t leave it like this. Poor social skills or not, he had to make at attempt to be friendly.

“Thanks for telling me,” Oren said.

“That’s what friends are for.”

Oren looked at him stunned. Jeff thought of him as a friend? He tried to determine if he meant it or it was just an expression. Before he could find a way to ask without everything becoming awkward, Jeff patted Oren on the back hard enough to make him stagger. The moment passed.

Oren approached the women, determined to show them how likeable he was.

“So, um these are really nice,” Oren said. He’d forgotten to wait until they’d stopped talking and now they were staring at him as if he was an ant at a picnic. “Did you make all these yourselves?”

“I made a few, but they did the most by far,” Marikit said proudly.

“Kikay gave us the patterns,” Marikit’s mother said.

“Kikay?” Oren asked.

“Marikit,” her mother said with a frown.

“Oh, I think I remember Rezo calling her that,” Oren said, even though he didn’t. He didn’t want it to seem like he knew nothing about Rezo and his friends.

No one else said anything and Oren could feel the chance to change their opinion of him slipping away.

“So, are you worried about Kikay?” he asked, and the way they looked at him made him think he had said something wrong. Since he didn’t know what her nickname meant, so he probably shouldn’t have used it.

“Should I be worried?” Marikit’s mother asked.

“Going on the trip?” Oren amended. “Do you have family in Mexico that will check in on her?”

Her mother’s brow creased. “I don’t have family in Mexico.”

“Oh, I thought that might be why Marikit chose that location for the school trip, because she wanted to connect with her heritage.”

“I’m not Mexican,” Marikit said, the confusion on her face stretching from the wrinkle in her brow down to purse of her lips.

There was silence while Oren tried to think of anything he could say to excuse his mistake.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you looked similar to Rezo and so I assumed—”

“Wait,” Jeff said. “You thought Rezo was Mexican? This whole time?” He laughed.

Mrs. Diaz said something in a language Oren couldn’t understand, but was at least now fairly certain it wasn’t Spanish. The other two women burst into laughter. A rapid exchange of hand gestures and words followed. And laughter, lots of laughter.

Oren wanted to die.

Marikit was the only one that didn’t seem to find the situation amusing. One of the only things she and Oren had in common.

“Um, what’s going on?” Rezo asked from behind Oren, proving that yet again he had the worst timing possible.

Oren couldn’t look at him, any of them. “Jeff, where’s the bathroom?” he asked. His face was hot and the panic in his voice was audible despite his efforts to keep it out.

But Jeff was laughing so hard Oren didn’t think he’d even heard him.

“It’s straight down the hall,” Marikit said. “Fourth door on the left. It isn’t marked because they just repainted.”

Oren took off before he could hear Rezo’s reaction when he discovered what Oren had said.

He kept to a fast walk until he reached the bathroom. He turned the handle with relief and stepped into the room, the door closing behind him.

The light was off for some reason and he felt along the wall until he found the switch. Once he could see he was startled to find himself staring at a mop bucket. Hanging on a rack on the wall was the mop. In fact, there was a remarkably large amount of cleaning supplies in the bathroom.

He looked around the room and clarity hit him like a blow to the stomach.

He wasn’t in a bathroom. He was in a utility closet.

So he’d either failed to count correctly or he’d mixed up his left and his right. There was apparently no end to his absolute stupidity or the mistakes he could make.  

It was too late to just back out and go to the right room like a normal person. He’d been in here too long. He was trapped.

Maybe it wasn’t as bad as it seemed. Maybe he’d luck out and they were laughing too hard at him to notice what he’d done. Maybe if he just stayed in here long enough they would all go home and he wouldn’t have to speak to any of them ever again.

“Did he just shut himself in a closet?” Marikit’s voice said from the other side of the door.

He should have known better than to think he could be lucky. He looked around for a solution to the problem. Unfortunately the mop bucket wasn’t big enough to drown in.

He heard laughter on the other side of the door. Laughter that became much louder as it was opened. They were all there: Rezo, Marikit, their mothers, Jeff and the aunt—and all of them were staring at him.

“Oren,” Jeff said once he could breathe. “When you saw it was the wrong room,” he was interrupted by another bout of laughter. “Why didn’t you just come back out?”

Oren knew better than to try to explain the complexity of the situation. No one would understand. It was all he could do not to bury his scorched face, and hopefully with it some of his mortification, in his hands. Somehow he didn’t think it would help. 

Rezo stepped between the others and strode toward him. He took Oren’s wrist and pulled him from the closet. His expression wasn’t amused at all.

“I need to speak with Oren in private,” he said.

Oren’s heart dropped to the floor. Rezo was going to tell him he never wanted to speak to him again.

Rezo kept a firm grip on his arm as he pulled him down the hall and into the library. Oren had no idea why he would want to have a conversation that was most likely going to involve yelling and tears in such a place, but he was too miserable to ask.

Rezo propelled him into a private study room and the destination began to make sense.

He closed the door securely. Oren imagined it was to block the sound.

Next he closed the blinds, shielding the other library patrons from the savagery he was about to inflict on Oren’s heart.

“Rezo, please, I didn’t mean to. Please, not here, wait till we get back to my house.”

The grip on Oren’s arm shifted and he felt himself being pulled toward Rezo. Oren wasn’t sure what he expected to happen, only that it couldn’t be good. He resisted but Rezo was stronger and he found himself pressed against him. Which was not what he was expecting.

Strong, warm arms wrapped around him. Rezo nuzzled against the side of his neck. He made an odd sound, one that Oren had to struggle to identify because it was so out of place.

“Are you laughing?” Oren asked, his voice tight with accusation.

“I’m sorry, I’m trying not to.”

“You just scared the hell out of me.”

“Why?” Rezo sounded genuinely puzzled.

“Dragging me in here like that, being so serious and silent.”

“I didn’t want you to see me laugh.” The mention of the word laugh was apparently enough to start him up again. “What did you think I was going to do?”

“What do you think?”

“I have absolutely no idea.”

Damn it, his vision was becoming blurry. Oren turned his face away.

“Hey.” Rezo’s tone softened. He cupped Oren’s chin in his hand and turned it back to face him. “What did you think?”

“That you were bringing me here to tell me that you didn’t want to see me anymore.”

“I wouldn’t do that.” Rezo wiped away with his thumb the tear that Oren had been willing him not to see. He kissed the side of Oren’s face, brushing his nose against his ear. “You’re my favorite person to be around.”

“You’re really not mad?”

“No. I wanted to get you out of there. I know how you are with people and after something that embarrassing I figured you’d need the space.”

Oren’s heart thumped. Rezo had been looking out for him.

“I’m amazed you even want to talk to me after what I did,” Oren said, after a moment.

“Put your foot in your mouth? I’m friends with Jeff. I’m used to it.”

“But about something so important. I mean, I got your race wrong.”

He felt Rezo shrug. “According to my sociology professor, race is a social construct, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“I didn’t say it in front of your professor. I said it in front of your mom and her friends.”

Rezo made an amused snort. “Then you shut yourself in a closet.” He leaned his forehead against Oren’s and chuckled, but it wasn’t unkind.

“You shouldn’t be laughing about this.” Oren moved to bury his face in Rezo’s shoulder. “How can you stand me? I’m too ignorant to tell different races apart. I don’t want to be racist, but I can’t help it apparently.”

“You are not racist.”

“How can you say that?”

“Do you think everyone except you can look at a person and instantly see what ethnic groups their ancestors belong to? Can I look at you and see that your mother is Irish, or that your father is Swedish except for a grandmother from Wales?”

“No, but—”

“But nothing. No one can. What’s racist is making assumptions based on prejudices. Lumping groups together, making stereotypes. Discriminating against people based on their appearance or ethnicity. Understand?”

Oren frowned. “Maybe.” He knew Rezo was usually right, but he wasn’t ready to just hand his culpability over yet.

“Look at it this way, why did you think I was from Mexico?”

Oren winced. “Why does it matter? I was wrong.” He carefully removed himself from Rezo’s embrace, stepping back so he could see his expression.

“Trust me.”

“Fine.” Oren took a breath. “Your last name is Diaz, which I thought was Spanish in origin and Marikit is organizing a trip to Mexico City. I thought she might be interested in learning about her heritage.”

“That’s logical, wrong, but still logical.”

“Logic isn’t going to undo how badly I embarrassed myself.”

“No.”

Oren hung his head.

“Well?” Rezo asked.

“Well what?”

“Ask.”

Oren met his eyes and saw only sincerity. “If you’re sure—” Rezo’s look shifted and convinced him it was safer to hurry up and be sure. “Um, what’s your race or ethnicity or…?”

“Filipino.”

“Ok.” Oren nodded. Although that didn’t actually help. He knew absolutely nothing about Filipinos. Apparently he really was an ignorant American. He consoled himself that at least now he had a word to go home and look up.

“My parents moved from the Philippines before I was born, but one day I would like to visit. The reason my last name is Spanish is because back when Spain colonized the Philippines they reassigned surnames to the natives for tax purposes, among other reasons. In a lot of cases it was done alphabetically, based on where they lived.”

“That’s awful.”

Rezo shrugged. “That’s imperialism.”

“So the language your mother was speaking was Filipino?”

“Tagalog.” At Oren’s confused look he added, “It’s one of several languages from the Philippines.”

“Oh.”

“All good now?”

“I’m still really embarrassed.”

“Expect to be teased a bit and then it will pass.”

Oren groaned.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be worse when they find out we’re dating.”

“If we ever end up dating.”

“We will.” Rezo took Oren’s hand and leaned back against the desk, drawing Oren against him.

“She still might say no.”

“I won’t give up until she says yes.”

Oren smiled. “Then let’s go start talking to her about it, or selling hats, or something.”

“In a few minutes.” Rezo pressed a kiss to the skin below Oren’s ear. His lips trailed along the edge of Oren’s jaw until he got to his mouth.

Oren closed his eyes, savoring the warmth and affection of the touch as well as the entire concept that Rezo actually wanted to do this with him.

Rezo hovered over Oren’s mouth, his breath warm, before letting his lower lip brush Oren’s.

Oren leaned into the contact, draping his arms around Rezo’s neck as he deepened the kiss. He felt Rezo, press into him, his arms moving to grip his sides for a moment before wrapping them around his back.

Oren broke the kiss and Rezo made a brief frustrated noise. Oren was thrilled that he could have such an effect on someone that he regarded as self-control personified.

“I guess staying here for a few minutes is ok.” Oren gave him a sly smile. “You can remind me why going back out there and facing everyone is somehow going to be worth it.”

Rezo shook his head. “You’re only going to get so much convincing before we have our first date.” He moved to speak directly into Oren’s ear, his warm breath dissipating on his skin. “But I’ll see what I can do within those limits.”

“You want to go on a date?” Oren pulled back to look at his eyes, which had the effect of stopping Rezo from trying to kiss him, and Oren regretting having said anything.

“That’s how these things usually start.” Rezo searched his eyes. “Don’t you want to?”

“Yes, but what would we do?”

“Are you seriously telling me that you’ve never thought about it? That you have no ideas?”

Before Oren could answer he was interrupted by the Rezo’s ringtone. Rezo dropped his arms from Oren and retrieved it from his pocket. He frowned before he answered it.

“Hey, we’re still talking. Did you need something?” Rezo’s frown deepened as he listened. “In a study room in the library, but—” Rezo glanced at Oren, his expression becoming worried while he listened to the person on the other end of the line. “Maybe you should—” He stopped and looked at his phone before shifting his gaze to address Oren. “She hung up on me.”

“Who did?”

Rezo gently untangled himself from Oren before he moved to open the blinds.

“She wants to talk to you,” Rezo said.

“Who does?” The vision of Rezo’s mother storming into the room and forbidding them to continue their friendship, let alone anything more, was enough to induce panic.

“Marikit.” No sooner had Rezo said it than she appeared in the library, her eyes scanning the study rooms until she found the one containing her targets.

Rezo opened the door for her and closed it again behind her.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said. “But I wanted to apologize to Oren.”

Oren was speechless. Since when had anyone but him done something wrong?

“I should have said something before you took off, but I was a little stunned. The way Rezo talks about you I assumed you would know a lot more about him, me, his family, and all that.” She was wringing her hands together as if nervous. “But then I remembered that while he’s perfectly capable of quoting the most boring passages from a history or sociology text book for hours on end, my cousin is absolutely horrible about talking about himself or what’s important in his life. You should be proud that you were an exception.”

Cousin? “I was?” Oren said automatically, instead of asking the question he wanted to ask.

“He goes on and on about you: ‘I wonder if Oren likes white or dark chocolate?’ ‘Oren would hate this movie,’ ‘Do you think he’s read this book?’ It’s even more boring to listen to than the textbook rants.”

“I think we’ve talked enough about me.” Rezo wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes and his hands were stuffed into his pockets as if he was embarrassed. “Weren’t you supposed to be apologizing about something?”

“Yes, I am.” Marikit took a step closer to Oren. “I thought it was really rude the way everyone was laughing at you. We all say stupid things at times and it’s good to be able to laugh at yourself and each other, but you didn’t really know anyone yet. It was terrible manners on the part of my family and I just wanted you to know I disapproved. I told them so too, but you had already left.”

“That’s not your fault,” Oren said. “I shouldn’t have made assumptions.”

“It’s not a big deal. They’ll get over it.” She smiled. “But, the only one tending the booth is Jeff, so we should probably get back before he messes everything up. He never seems to pay attention to what he’s doing.”

Oren knew perfectly well where Jeff’s attention would be focused in her presence, but he had enough respect for Rezo’s—his—friend not to say anything.        

Marikit approached the door but stopped when her hand was on the knob. She turned to look at Oren.

“One other thing, I don’t care if you date. I just wanted Rezo’s help and it was the only leverage I had. You guys can continue to help if you want, I’d appreciate it, but you have my blessing regardless.” She smiled. “This just means I’ll graduate with higher honors that Rezo with my devotion to school and only school.”

“We’ll see about that,” Rezo said. “But thank you.”

“Well, I’m going back to work.” She opened the door.

“We’ll come with you,” Oren said, he paused realizing he’d just volunteered them both. He glanced at Rezo. “If that’s ok?”

Rezo let out an exaggerated sigh. “You’re my boyfriend for less than a minute and you’re already making demands. I see how this works.” He slipped his hand into Oren’s.

Boyfriend was, without a doubt, the most spectacular word in the English language. Oren grinned while he searched his brain for an appropriate way to fit it into a sentence.

“That’s what boyfriends are for.” That sounded cheesier outside of his head than it had on the inside.

But Rezo didn’t seem to mind. He leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek, before whispering into his ear. “As you wish, princ—”

“Finish that sentence and I will not be held responsible for my actions.”

Rezo grinned and squeezed his hand.

And somehow, just that small sign of affection and the new relationship it implied, made the day more than worth it.

Master List of Chapters