In the Ghost's Shadow

Brick made it back alive from yet another op, but his blood brother didn’t. Some winter break that was, he thought. Still, there he was at the foot of the stairs, staring at the double doors of the science hall at Jarvis University in Colorado Springs, Colorado. The light, seemingly everpresent breeze snatched the puffs of steam from his nostrils, only to freeze his nose hairs upon his next inhaled breath. The crisp, clean, cold air bolstered Brick because it cleansed him of the dark, heavy, dankness of the Myanmar rainforest where Fritz had been slaughtered. He sighed.

One more semester to go, and he would be done. A fleeting thought curled the corners of his mouth however briefly. His Literature professor would have corrected him immediately.

“Brick. Things are done but people finish.”

Well, at least he would finish his undergraduate studies. He wondered if Tish would stay for graduate school. Not that it mattered all that much because she hated him. However, that did nothing to dim Brick’s feelings for her.

Perhaps it would be better if she did leave because his family’s vendetta against the shadow organization that had destroyed their lives might well consume them and anyone with whom they became involved. That, too, did nothing to dim his feelings for the incredible Latisha Owusu. He sighed again, then climbed the stairs as he simultaneously hoped and dreaded he would be early enough.

When he wrapped cold fingers around the silver handle of one mirrored glass door, his reflection stared at him. Anguish had stolen the light from his dark brown eyes, and melancholy had tightened the brown skin on his face and neck. No one would notice it, though. He was sure of that. He was as invisible as the furniture, and that was by design.

His question would be answered soon enough and at least that question would be done.

Sorry Prof, that just doesn’t sound right, Brick thought as he walked into the classroom.

Nope, he wasn’t early enough. Tish had already claimed her seat for the semester, and her entourage surrounded her completely. Brick had to settle for another spot in the class. As he plodded down the stairs of the large, double-aisled, amphitheater-like classroom, Tish stood and excused her way to the same aisle he currently descended.

She must have misstepped or tripped on the transition because she began to fall. Brick shifted into hyper mode, where his speed and perception were much faster than normal. No one was behind him or beside him, and those in front weren’t paying attention. Tish was fifteen feet away, so he took the chance.

If anyone had been looking, they would have seen Brick disappear from where he was and materialize just in time to catch Tish before her painful interaction with the floor. A brief gust of air followed, ruffled her hair and a few papers on a nearby desk—though hyper-speed violated its laws, physics would not be completely denied.

Her wide eyes stared up at him as he effortlessly cradled her with one arm. Tish’s entourage gasped as one, almost as though they had rehearsed it, then they remarked at Brick’s speed and agility, especially for a nerd-freak. It made him feel good, however briefly. He had exposed himself, though. Hopefully, he could mitigate the damage.

“Oh shit! Where did you come from?”

“That wish you made for someone to save you.”

Her broad smile warmed his heart. He didn’t get many of those from Tish.

“So, you’re a mind-reading Djinn?”

“Be happy I’m not. They demand a hefty price for their services, never have the best interests of their subject at heart, and sometimes require payment in flesh. I think you mean Genie.”

“Well, thanks for not holding a grudge and for being cooler than I thought.”

“Conversation breeds more understanding than does condemnation.”

“Still a nerd, though.”

“It’s who I am. Who I’ve always been, and who I shall forever be.”

She laced her fingers together behind his neck, and for a moment, Brick thought she would kiss him, but the upturned corner of her mouth spoke volumes. Her voice? Well, that was pure vamp.

“I didn’t know you were so strong, Brick. I have a feeling there’s more to you than everyone thinks. I’m not a small woman, and you caught me with one arm.”

Tish celebrated her Big Beautiful Woman status, and for good reason.

“Maybe someday I’ll find out,” she tightened her grip and softened her voice ever so slightly, but the smirk remained in place, “So, you could lift me up…or something.”

Her eyebrow lifted when she added or something, but Brick didn’t know if it were an invitation or a dare. It was probably a little of both.

“And if I choose option two?”

Tish’s voice dripped with honey spiked with habanero as she pulled herself up to within an inch of his lips. She was no slouch in the strength department either. There were advantages to being a gymnast. Her eyes told one story as her sweet breath caressed his face, but that corner of her mouth? It told another.

“It would be wonderful, but then I’d draw blood, and you’d have to explain the teeth marks to everyone all day.”

Brick the operative would take option two without hesitation and wear the scars as badges of honor. But Brick, the wimpy, pacifist, nerd-freak, could not—not and maintain his cover.

He lifted her to her feet as if she weighed nothing, then took a step back. She stared at him for a moment as one eyebrow rose, the other dove, and her lips pursed after mouthing what looked like the words; he resisted. Tish quickly relaxed her face into its previous, vamp mode.

“You didn’t even struggle, Brick. I felt like a feather in your arms. There’s a ton more to that body of yours than meets the eye. Now I’m really intrigued.” Tish’s eyes tracked him from head to toe, then back.

“What do you mean?”

Tish had crafted her very own like/dislike scale. Brick started the day like every other, firmly entrenched in the totally despise category. When he saved her, she elevated him from totally despise to loathe, and when he lifted her so easily, he leapfrogged right over hate and landed squarely on totally irritating. Finally, Brick achieved the rank of moderately irritating when he didn’t respond to her taunts.

“Um. Thanks?” Brick responded.

Tish took a step toward him—well within his personal space and lay her hand over his heart. Brick’s temperature rose exponentially, and he wondered if his no kiss decision had been the wrong one. Based on his track record, probably so. He was woefully inept when it came to women.

“I’ve been intimate with men and women in that category, math-boy. At least you’re in the ballpark now, but don’t get any ideas about playing in the game just yet. Things might change soon, though.”

“I can live with that. However long it takes.”

“Maybe sooner than you think. Later, math-boy.”

Tish brushed past him, dragged her hand across his chest and shoulder, and proceeded up the stairs. She glanced back and flashed that smirky smile again before the door swallowed her whole. Brick followed her using his peripheral vision so he wouldn’t look like a stalker. It was bad enough that everyone on campus knew how he felt about Tish, so adding the perv tag would only make things worse. The first open seat was not too far away on the next row up, closer to the middle of the class. He sat down and filled the next few minutes with the daily dose of self-loathing to which he’d subjected himself ever since the op.

Fritz made his choice and had given him a moral out, but, as usual, Brick bore the mantle of blame anyway. If he had followed his heart and acted on his first impulse, Fritz might have been pissed, but he’d be alive. However, if he had followed his heart, he would have rebelled against years of family indoctrination.

Follow the head; never the heart because it will lead you astray.

Then there was the matter of his first love, Kaylen. Of course, that darkness had to throw its bucket of guilt and blood all over his already suffering ego. Sure, she had been behind the wheel, but Brick’s bad judgment had driven her right into that retaining wall.

How many more people I love will I kill with my bad decisions? Is that why I don’t take chances with Tish? Because I don’t want to kill her too? How much loss is too much?

Brick knew he would never answer the last question until he reached that limit. The only way to even prepare for it was to face it head-on—if such tragedy were something for which he or anyone else could prepare. He sat near the center of the now nearly full classroom, surrounded by other students, lost in thought, and very much alone. Not even Tish’s return interrupted his melancholic trance for more than an instant.

Just then, the incredibly brilliant and otherworldly beautiful physicist, Professor Sandra Brennan Ph.D., burst into the room, flipped her raven hair, and locked her gorgeous green eyes onto Brick’s for one second that somehow blossomed into eternity. Her gaze drew him from his universe of pain and doubt long enough to realize that eternity wasn’t necessarily infinite because the black hole within dragged him back to where despair patiently awaited his return.

Professor Brennan turned her attention to the rest of the class and captivated them with her opening statement in that irresistible Irish burr. Sandra had told him her plan the previous evening a few hours after his tutoring session ended, so it offered Brick neither surprise nor joy.

She announced a science project and contest. The winners would receive a letter of recommendation from her, an automatic pass with extra credits, and a grant to help with graduate school.

In addition, if the judges determined the project would be a valid contribution to both society and science, the school would also offer a research grant. The reaction in the class was volcanic, and still Brick remained oblivious because, for the moment, nothing existed outside the event horizon of that black hole inside him. However, his tactical mind remained vigilant as ever, scanned for danger, and deposited most of what happened over the next few minutes into his subconscious as fodder for his dreams—or nightmares.

After a couple of minutes, deafening silence invaded his subconscious. Its disruption wave dissolved the black hole and immersed him in an aural vacuum where a pin drop would sound like a thunderclap. He pushed his mind back into the real world only to find that all of the students in the classroom stared at him—every one of them.

Brick’s inner eye withdrew from the tattered event horizon and scanned from left to right, while his nerves pinged like a Geiger counter. He had to control himself better. The students surrounding him may not know who and what he was, but his enemies did, and ever since his family made their stand in Colorado Springs, they also knew where he was. One of them could have infiltrated the class. However, a quick scan told him there was no external danger. However, in the microcosm of the classroom, the danger was clear and present.

“What? What’d I do?”

“You ignored me, Mason Redstone. I chose you as my partner for the project, and you just sat there and stared at the wall.”

The silence was eerie, like everyone held their breaths, waiting for word from him to exhale. Brick was not used to that kind of attention, nor did he want it. Still, there he was, the center of the enclosed universe of the classroom. The pressure from their eyes weighed him down and created another, very personal gravity well. One particular pair of eyes affected him more than any other. Brick answered that set of eyes as his emotions pulled up the right side of his mouth ever so slightly.

“Why me, Tish? You hate me. No, wait, you graced me with the status of—what was it? Oh yeah, somewhat irritating,” Brick, unsure from whence this outburst came, went with it because, every once in a while, even a worm will turn.

“True, but you love me, so it balances. Besides, we’re the top two students in class, we both had a bad semester, our skill sets so totes complement each other, and we need the extra credit to graduate Summa. And, just to clarify, it was moderately irritating, but I’m good with somewhat. I’ve never seen you mad before—even when Bran’s posse beats you down. It’s kinda cute.”

“Yeah. Well. Whatever.”

Mostly Brick was stalling so his brain could catch up. Had Tish really chosen him as a partner? How could he have missed that?

Because you were so wrapped up in your pity pit, asshole.

His alter, just one more irritating aspect of his family’s unwelcome genetic manipulation, called him an asshole, and so did a lot of other people, including his sister. He’d heard it so much growing up that, for a short while, he thought it was his middle name. That inner voice had been more active ever since he lost Fritz. He had long since given up on whether the halo or the horns spoke to him from their perch on his shoulder.

“I didn’t hear a denial, Brick. So you’re for real about me?”

Brick never understood how the conversation shifted from the project to his feelings for her, but he didn’t hesitate.

“Don’t front. The whole campus got the 10-4 on that when my ex-bestie outed me last year.”

“I didn’t hear an answer either.”

“Quit changing subjects. Your reasons may be valid, but maybe it’s the delivery I got a problem with.”

“Dude, seriously? You tellin’ me you don’t want to spend some quality alone time with the woman you love—with all of this?”

Tish stood up and then moved her hands up and down her body as if she were an infomercial’s prime product. She tossed Brick a smile that brightened her eyes and almost mesmerized him, but a flash of anger snapped him out of her spell.

“Aw hell no,” Brick bolted to his feet. His temperature rose for the second time, but for a different reason, as his eyebrows dove into a v-shape propped up by the bridge of his nose. For that moment, only the two of them existed.

Clenched teeth didn’t garble his words, “If we do this, and that’s a big frigging if, You will not use my feelings against me. Is that clear?”

Tish sat there round-mouthed and wide-eyed. That must be her astonished face. It wasn’t one he was familiar with because, frankly, they didn’t hang out enough for him to figure out stuff like that. She was the popular girl, and he was the geek. Brick looked around and saw similar expressions throughout the classroom, and light banter tickled his ears, if not his fancy.

Brick’s actions were out of character. He didn’t stand up for himself, and he didn’t show emotions. Everyone called him the wimpy, pacifist nerd-freak, which was how he wanted it. Hopefully, one backbone-filled episode wouldn’t strip away his cloak of invisibility. He depended on that because no one could know the truth.

About the truth, Brick wanted desperately to partner with Tish, but he had to set some ground rules. He got to the point quickly to limit his backbone’s exposure. For more cover, he would make sure the subsequent beatdown from Tish’s boyfriend, Bran, and his posse was public and brutal enough to dispel any reaction to his brief display of ballsiness.

“Is that clear, Tish?”

“Um, yah, Brick. Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Damn, she backed down, he thought, didn’t see that coming. Or is she setting a trap for me?

“As long as you stick to that, I’ll partner with you. You do it again, and I walk.”

The room exploded with applause; some of them even stood. A nearby student, Brick couldn’t remember his name, clapped him on the back and congratulated him for finally standing up for himself. Others said that scene was better drama than the last play, and another was irritated that she hadn’t recorded the whole thing.

“Well, that was quite the show, you two. Let’s hope your project will be even half as interesting as this little tiff we witnessed.”

Brick started to apologize, but the Professor interrupted him, “No need to apologize, Mr. Redstone. Yours was a thoroughly enjoyable exchange—enjoyable and revealing.”

She beamed that smile at him, the one that fueled Brick’s fantasies when Professor Brennan tutored him. It was more than an ordinary smile because it, as her eyes before, concealed a secret.

Tish must have noticed the smile because she squinted her eyes and shifted her gaze back and forth between him and the professor. Thankfully the instructor’s following words broke the spell.

“Since you two spoke up first, you may leave. I’ll be seeing the both of you two Mondays from now.”

Brick’s jaw dropped, and when he looked at Tish, her mouth hung open as well. The classroom exploded again, but this time with catcalls, complaints, and even a few congratulations. Hands immediately shot up, likely hoping that the next set of partners would get at least half the deal they had received. Professor Brennan prodded them to leave, so Brick grabbed his belongings and headed for the exit with Tish a step or two ahead of him.

Once they left the science hall, Tish turned toward Brick, “Let’s go to my house and start planning.” Plumes of steam from her mouth evaporated quickly in the cold, dry air of the Colorado winter.

“Your place? It’ll take me two hours to ride the bus there, and then I have to get home. Why don’t we set a time and place tomorrow?”

“Brick, I’ll drive us to my place, then drive you home after, you goof. We might as well get used to being around each other if we’re gonna do this thing.”

“You’re okay if people see me ride in the same car as you?”

“Yah. I’m not the same person I used to be, Brick. I’m tired of all the BS and posturing it takes to be part of the hip crowd. This year, I’ll follow my own path. If people see me hang with a nerd, so be it. Let’s jet.”

Tish walked, and Brick shadowed her after a second or two because a part of his mind thought that she literally walked her own path right that instant. He chuckled inwardly at his silliness. He couldn’t think of anything to say in response, so he walked along in silence, slightly behind her. The view was a lot better from that vantage anyway.

The parking lot was large and full, but Tish walked in a beeline straight to where she had parked her brand new, 2043 electric blue Tesla. She never strayed from her path once. Brick was impressed because he would have been lost among the sea of automobiles. It was strange that he could navigate in the wilderness during a moonless night, but broad daylight in a concrete parking lot stumped him. Abilities were great, but you had to recognize and compensate for their limitations.

“God, what a view.”

“Excuse me? What?” Tish stiffened.

“Yeah. We caught it at just the right time. Have you been to Pikes Peak lately, Tish?”

“Oh. You meant the Peak. I thought--,” Tish shook her head, then turned to look at him.

“Thought what?” Brick’s eyebrows rose at least an inch. He figured she had busted him watching her.

She spun away to face The Peak once more, “Just forget it. I went before season’s end last year,” Tish paused, “I love this. The air is crystal clear, there’s hardly any wind, and the sun is at just the right angle. Everything looks so close.”

“Yeah, I call it the lensing effect. It’s like you can reach out and touch The Peak.”

“And Garden of the Gods too,” Tish tossed him a sideways glance, “Is that lensing thing a scientific term, math-boy?”

“Nope. My very own creation.”

“So you do have an imagination.”

“Kind of a requirement for most role-playing games, and stop smiling. It wasn’t that funny.”

“Yah, it was. You smiled too.”

When Tish reached the driver’s side door, she turned, put a hand on her right hip, bent her left knee, and stared at him. The world melted away as she became his universe for that moment.

Tish was thick, but she was solid and fit with a glorious hourglass figure. Her cinnamon-colored skin matched her eyes which were deep-set, slightly almond-shaped, and perfectly complemented her oval face. Tish’s jet-black, wavy hair flowed over her shoulders, down her back, and ended near her waistline. It always seemed to move, even when she sat still, as though the curls in her hair bounced off of each other, building energy like a perpetual motion machine.

Tish was five-foot-five, but the way she carried herself made her seem almost as tall as his own six feet. To Brick, she was nothing short of a vision.

“We need to make a deal, Brick.”

Her statement snapped him out of his trance, “Deal? What kind of deal? What do you mean?”

“I need to be able to trust you, so we set some ground rules, okay?”

“Okay, I guess your half of the deal is to not use my feelings against me. So, what’s my half?”

Tish paused for a moment before answering. Her hand grasped her chin and her index finger lightly tapped it, “You can’t objectify me.”

“Define objectify.”

“Seriously? I have to spell it out for you? I thought nerds were supposed to be smart?”

“Being a nerd means that I probably don’t have a lot of experience with women, right? Besides, your idea of objectification might be very different from mine, so clarification is important.”

“Yah. Guess you’ve got a point. And if you say something about the top of your head, I’ll hit you.”

“Why so violent?”

“Some people just bring it out in me. Now shush; I have to think.”

Still maintaining her model pose, Tish raised her left hand to her mouth, one eyebrow dove toward the bridge of her nose, while the other arched high above it. That must be her thinking face, Brick mused. She held that look for a few seconds before answering.

“No accidentally brushing against me. No looking down my blouse. No inuendos of any kind. No offer to massage my shoulders or any other part of my body, and no staring at me with those damn puppy dog eyes you had a second ago. Stuff like that. Deal?”

Brick stuck out his hand to shake, “Deal.”

“Uh-uh. You know that I seal serious deals with a kiss. Everybody knows that.”

Brick was shocked while his heart raced at the prospect of kissing Tish, but his mouth had other ideas and acted before he could stop it.

“Why would you want to kiss someone you hate?”

“Look. Hate is too strong a word. I just don’t like the way you represent.”

“Not following.”

“You’re a pacifist,” Tish began ticking off the reasons with her fingers, “you run from trouble. You don’t stand up for yourself or fight back. If you can’t stand up for yourself, how can anyone else depend on you to stand up for them?”

“I stood up for myself against you in class just a few minutes ago.”

“Yah. Once in, how long?”

“Still happened. Look, just because I don’t use violence, in school,” Brick had to throw that codicil in just to stay somewhat honest, “doesn’t make me a wimp. Maybe I’m a different kind of warrior, and, just so you know, I do stick up for others.”

“Really? When?”

“Many times, but about a month ago, you were there when it happened.”

Brantley, Tish’s on-again/ off-again boyfriend, and his gang of goons had been trolling the Quad looking for a victim and found a prime candidate in one of Brick’s friends. Tish sat on a bench not too far away, talking to someone, probably because she and Bran were in one of their off-again times. Brick happened to cross the Quad at that moment and saw the goons pushing around his friend. He changed course and then ‘accidentally’ stumbled into Bran, who immediately turned his attention to his all-time favorite punching bag. At a secretive nod from Brick, his friend bolted.

“Wait. You did that on purpose? Why?”

“Because I knew I could take what the goons dished out, and my friend couldn’t. Those guys can’t hurt me. Hell, my sister punches harder than they do.”

“Huh. Never would have figured. So, how are you a warrior?”

She doesn’t miss much, does she, Brick mused, better watch my step around her.

“I know I’m misquoting, but to paraphrase Sun Tzu, a successful warrior wins first, then goes to battle while the unsuccessful warrior goes to battle first, then tries to win. When I took the place of my friend, I was the successful warrior.”

“How?”

“My goal, my plan, was to shift their attention away from my friend. I succeeded in that while causing them to fail in theirs.”

“Which was?”

“To cause fear, pain, and panic. I took that away by becoming their target because I’m not afraid of them, and they can’t do any real damage to me. Sure they get in a lucky shot every once in a while, but nothing serious. Like I said, my sister hits harder than they do.”

“Huh. It just looked like you blundered into it.”

“That’s the way it was supposed to look.”

“So there is more to you but don’t you care what people think about you?”

“The only opinions that matter to me are those of my family and the few people I call friends. They know who I am and what I’m about. Everyone else? Irrelevant.”

After a short conversation, they resolved most, if not all, of their issues—at least those on the surface. Brick had the feeling that each of them had deeper conflicts to resolve but knew they wouldn’t fix them at that moment if they could even vocalize them in the first place. The first item on the table was to establish trust, then see if they could make their partnership work. According to Tish, in order to trust him, she had to kiss him.

“I think I’m all talked out, for now, Brick. Do we have a deal, or do we go back to class and pick other partners?”

“What do you think we should do?”

“I think we have a lot to discuss. We need to get to know each other better to work more efficiently, which will take time. I also think that we can be a great team if we work at it.”

“Intuition or logic?”

“Cryptic much,” Tish rolled her eyes and pursed her lips, “A little bit of both, Brick. Do we have a deal?”

“Deal, but who’s gonna make the first mo...?”

“God, Brick, just shut up and kiss me.”

The real world melted away, and Brick embraced Tish, who leaned in close. He stared into her eyes. He expected to see indifference in them but found something else. Brick didn’t know her well enough to understand what those beautiful eyes conveyed, but what he saw was way better than what he expected.

He pressed his parted lips to hers. Tish opened her mouth a little more, flicked her tongue out, and teased the inside of his upper lip. Brick teased back, and her lips opened wider, inviting him in. She smiled ever so slightly then relaxed, wrapped her arms around his waist, and pulled him close. He responded to her but, despite her apparent invitation, never took more than she offered. The kiss lasted longer than he would have dreamed.

When they parted, each stood slightly out of breath; foreheads pressed together. Brick’s head spun. Then he realized that she could probably feel his physical response, so he released her. Tish backed away very slowly.

“That was—um—surprising and amazing, Brick. That kiss was legit.”

“Yeah. It was. So, deal sealed?”

He played it cool even though he felt hot, bothered, flushed, and aroused from the kiss.

“Yah, we have a deal. C’mon, let’s go.”

As they drove away, Brick asked for a favor

“I’d appreciate it if you’d call Brantley and talk to him about the kiss. There were a few people who saw us, and you know it’ll get back to him. I’ve already got a public beatdown coming, but I’d like to limit the chances for a second.”

“Yah, sure, but me and Bran are kind of on the outs right now. I don’t know if it really matters.”

“Does he know that?”

“I don’t know. He should.”

“We are talking about Brantley.”

“I’ll send him a text.”

“Thanks. I appreciate ‘cha.”

Tish and Brick’s robust conversation touched many topics during the drive and never ceased until they arrived at her home. They had quite a bit in common when it came to interests outside of school. The kiss remained at the forefront of Brick’s mind all the way to the Owusu estate and kept him warm and tingly. Her soft, supple lips, the feel of her body against his, and the way she pulled him close would stay with him for an eternity.

When they pulled into the long, looping, gravel-covered driveway, Brick realized he really needed to revisit the true meaning of eternity. His alter answered him in a Latin accent. Like Inigo Montoya hinted, dat word must not mean what you think it means.

It was Brick's turn to call his alter an asshole.