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Oh goddammit.
“Yes,” Nina says, somehow picking up on the growing awkwardness. “I was just waiting for Benji to come home and he introduced me to his friend and nothing more. Nothing more at all is going on, so no nosy nellies.”
“What’s his name?” Christie asks.
“Blue,” Nina says, as he says, “Calliel,” while I say, “Cal.”
The three women on the patio stare at us.
I cough. “Calliel Blue,” I manage to say. “Everyone calls him Cal.”
“They do?” Calliel asks, sounding extraordinarily baffled. “I have not heard this before from—”
“What he means,” I say, interrupting him, “is that he has a lot of nicknames and Cal is just one of them. Or Blue. Or… whatever.” Yeah. That should convince them.
“Really,” Mom says, sounding like she doesn’t believe a single word that’s falling from my mouth. “Hello, Cal. Or Blue. Or Calliel. I’m Lola, Benji’s mom. These are my sisters, Christie and Mary. I think you’ve already met Nina.”
He waves jovially at them (and everyone except for Mom starts waving right back), looking at me, begging with his eyes to speak. I shake my head quickly once and, unbelievably, he grunts at me, calling me ridiculous without saying the words.
“Cal Blue?” Mary whispers quite loudly, still waving. “That sounds like a porn name. He looks like he does porn too. Big bad ginger-man porn.”
“That’s not a porn name,” Christie scoffs. “Calliel sounds… Hispanic. Or Greek.”
I groan.
“I am not Hispanic,” Calliel assures her. “Or Greek.” Mary and Christie titter quietly at the sound of his voice, rough and wonderful.
He tries again. “I’m actually—”
“He’s actually Californian,” I say, as if that explains everything. To Mary and Christie, it seems to suffice; they nod as if that makes perfect sense. My mother is not buying a damn thing. Even worse, she’s starting to get that look on her face that means she’s going to start asking questions I have no idea how to answer. Making a decision, I walk over to him and take his hand in mine. Even though it can’t possibly be real, there’s a moment when our fingers connect, that feeling of skin against skin. An even brighter blue bursts across my vision. His palm feels calloused, his fingers soft and dry. My toes curl in my work boots. I look up at him and find him staring down at our intertwined fingers, wonder playing across his face. He raises his gaze to mine and smiles again. Fuck it all.
“Not what you’re thinking,” I say under my breath. “Don’t you say a damn word until I tell you to.” He nods, looking back down at our hands. He gives an experimental squeeze and then does it again.
Great. Fantastic.
I take a deep breath and look back to the porch. Mary and Christie watch us, dumbfounded. Nina looks like she wants to tackle us and kiss our faces off. Mom looks like there are at least four hundred more questions she must ask right at this moment. I need to end this now. “Cal’s going to be staying with me in Little House for a while.” Uh, what? He squeezes my hand again, harder. “There’s some stuff he and I need to talk about, so… you know. Maybe we can do this whole thing later?” I direct this last at my mom, trying to put enough emphasis on my words that she feels no need to say anything else.
She can see right through my attempts, but small wonder. She nods tightly, pursing her lips. Mary and Christie stand behind her, waggling their eyebrows obscenely, but it’s wasted on my apparent new best friend, who is still looking down at our hands, squeezing again and again like he’s never held hands with another person.
Maybe on whatever planet he comes from this is frowned upon, I think, trying to avoid going into hysterics.
“We’ll talk later,” my mom says finally, the tone in her voice letting me know in no uncertain terms that there will be a later. I almost want to tell her that I’m fucking twenty-one years old, but realize how that would sound and there’s no fucking way that’s going to happen. “Remember, you’ve… you’ve got the day off tomorrow, so….”
“So make sure you get plenty of sleep.” Mary giggles, sounding so much like her sister when she laughs.
“Yeah, sleep in,” Nina says, although I’m not sure she understands what she’s saying.
“Ladies,” Christie says, “into the house. Let’s leave Benji and Gigantor alone so they can do whatever it is two guys do when they are all by themselves in an empty house where no one can hear them scream.”
My mom shakes her head and turns and walks back into the house, followed by Christie and Mary. Mary asks her older sister if it looked like Cal was wearing a skirt, and Christie replies that it must be a Californian thing. Nina waits until they’re all inside before she looks back at us. “I promise I won’t say anything,” she whispers hurriedly. “But these things have a way of getting out all on their own. Be careful, Benji. And Blue?”
He looks up from our hands, where he’s nearly turned mine into mush. “Yes, little one?”
Her eyes sparkle. “I am so very happy to meet you.” She blushes again and runs up into the house, then closes the door behind her, shutting off the porch light and leaving us in darkness.
I stand there, staring after them, trying to collect my thoughts.
“Benji?” he finally says, sounding bemused.
