As much as I wanted to scoff at Orion’s obsession, I admired him. He didn’t hide any aspect of himself. Janet might do it as a form of shock, but he simply didn’t care what anybody thought. Of course, he didn’t spend last night breaking three noses, seven fingers, and a knee. It’d have been more if I didn’t need a decent night’s sleep.
“You’re staring.”
I sipped my coffee, focusing on a couple of women sitting on a couch on the far side of the lobby. Whatever the blonde spoke about, it had the other two captivated. The sharing appeared effortless. If I randomly spit out that I had nearly been stabbed before I beat a man with his own baseball bat, would Orion flinch? Would I be sitting in Arthur’s office as he handed me my termination notice?
“How do they do it?”
Orion followed my line of sight. “Feign interest?” I forgot his natural cynicism.
“Interact with one another? They make it look effortless.”
Orion laughed hard enough that the people around us backed away. Laughter at that volume usually came before a mad scientist threatened to kill us all. I thought he might be mocking me, but the tears streaming from his eyes were genuine. What had been so funny?
“You’re asking—” He held up a finger, sucked in air, and continued laughing. Half the lobby stared at us. As quickly as it started, he stopped, his neutral face with a hint of disdain locking into place. “My best friend is a sentient computer.”
He had a point, but he knew himself well enough to craft a companion. Before Connor had a body, they had been inseparable. I’m not sure it mattered how Connor came to be; their friendship had always been authentic. I tried formulating the words, even the idea. This had been an ongoing trial that left me feeling broken.
“Something’s off about you.”
He wasn’t wrong. Though I’m sure he meant my usual big smile and determination to make those around me happy. Since the night with Booker, the barrier that kept my identities separate had fractured. I had let it slip then, and with Carmen.
“How are you always you?” It was the best I could comeup with. I couldn’t ask for advice on how to reconcile the differences between bubbly Drew and the eager violence of Hellion. I could only imagine the moment I let my identity slip that I’d be sitting in Arthur’s office, staring down that disappointed expression.
Orion’s eyebrow crept up his face, giving away his curiosity. “I don’t know how to be anything else.” He crossed his arms, sitting upright on the stool. “My theories drive people mad, I know. I see your eyes roll every time I mention the demonic portal system under the city.”
I forced my eyes to stay in place.
“Why would I dim myself for somebody else’s comfort?”
To belong? To fit in? To have the people he called friends like him? I had a thousand reasons why I dimmed my light. Not one of them was about me. My insecurities came from… wanting to… I didn’t know. I envied his ability to give the world the middle finger and be himself.
“You’re not worried about what people might think?”
“I’m smarter than most people on the planet.” We had yet to test this theory, but he liked throwing it around when convenient. “Why would I care what they thought?”
Because…
“If they don’t like me, that’s their problem.” He broke into a smile. “I’m a delight.”
Because… I couldn’t finish the sentence. I wanted people to like me. It felt good when we had that connection. Ienvied his ability to live his life as he wanted without care, but I didn’t understand it. It must have made more enemies than friends. I knew he operated with the world at arm’s length, but did that change when he met Hudson? The whole thing sent my mind spiraling.
“Drew.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I get what you’re asking.” He tapped his forehead. “Remember, I’m smart. Let people like you for you. You can’t force a relationship by building the bridge yourself.”
Like me for me. I nearly scoffed at the idea. I imagined leaning forward and whispering, “My favorite pastime is hearing the cries of the guilty.” Dramatic, but also not wrong. If I revealed myself, his eyes would go wide. He’d be curious at first, and when I explained hunting for bad guys to take out my aggression, he’d withdraw. By the end of the conversation, he’d give me pleasantries, but whatever relationship we had would be crushed. No, Orion didn’t want me to be myself; he wanted me to be the curated version of myself.
“I’ll try,” I lied.
“Now, can we talk about your great big secret?”
I calmed, ensuring the mask stayed in place. The excuses and deflections were loaded and ready for wherever this conversation went. What if I denied nothing? Maybe I’d let the unknown hang to test the waters.
“What’s going on with your sexy ginger?”
“My ginger?” It took a moment before I connected the dots. “Booker? Nothing’s going on.”
“Do you want something to go on?”
After the pizza arrived, we stopped talking about business. As I devoured the first slice, ignoring the molten cheese, he talked about… books. While I chewed, salivating over the taste of mushrooms, he talked about his love of reading. No superhero shenanigans, no crooks busting in and needing to be dealt with. He couldn’t wait to talk about books I remembered reading in school.
