Chapter 3.1: The Next Afternoon

I. – The Park

The afternoon light lay flat across the park. Everything looked duller, as if the night hadn’t quite let go of the city yet.

The same cracked benches. The same gravel path that led you around until you realized you were just going in circles like an idiot. The same pigeons who’d been living here longer than anyone else.

Cayde sat on the armrest of a bench, spinning his board between his fingers.

He wasn’t looking at Vexley. He didn’t need to. He could feel that something had happened.

“So,” he started. “The redhead. That’s not just ‘hot girl.’ That’s… a problem.”

Vexley didn’t respond.

Cayde glanced sideways.

“The kind that makes a guy do stupid shit. Like walk up to her at a show and try to kiss her in a bar line.”

Something moved at the corner of Vexley’s mouth. Not a smile. More like a reflex.

“Vex,” he said quietly. “Did you hear me?”

“Half the park heard you.”

Silence.

A pigeon shuffled near his shoe. Vexley nudged it away with a small motion. Not roughly. Just irritably.

“So?” Cayde asked. “Was it worth it?”

Vexley leaned forward. His elbows rested on his knees.

“You don’t get it,” he said quietly.

“You know me. You know how awkward I am. Normally I can’t even approach a regular girl who smiles at me and seems nice. I circle around for days. I wait until we accidentally end up next to each other. I come up with some stupid excuse.”

Cayde was listening now.

“But she… she just looked at me. Probably didn’t even notice. It was one moment. But when I looked into her eyes… it was like someone pulled the fuse out of me.”

Silence.

“I didn’t decide to walk over. There was no plan. There was no courage. It just felt like the most natural thing in the world. Like I was always supposed to do exactly that. You know?”

Cayde slowly exhaled.

Vexley’s gaze slid to the gravel.

“There was this girl… who clearly could wrap an entire room around her little finger if she wanted to. Everyone watching her. Everyone wanting something from her. But there were walls around her so thick that even the biggest talkers back off.”

He paused for a moment.

“And I… just walked up and almost kissed her.”

No explanation followed. Cayde just watched. For the first time, he wasn’t grinning.

“…like I said… problem,” he finally said, smiling at his friend.

Vexley nodded.

“Yeah.”

Cayde jumped off the armrest. The board clacked against the concrete.

“Alright. So that’s settled. You take the redhead. I’ll take the blonde.”

Vexley looked up.

“You always pick the blonde.”

“Because blondes always pick me,” Cayde shrugged.

For a moment they just looked at each other. The kind of silence that holds years.

Then Vexley spoke.

“You noticed them?”

“Obviously.”

“Not just… girls. There’s something about them. Some kind of sound.”

Cayde laughed.

“Sound.”

“Yes, sound, fuck!” He raised his middle finger, emphasizing the weight of his observation.

“When Nova spoke… that wasn’t talking. That was rhythm.”

Vexley finally leaned back.

“We’re gonna be a good team.”

Cayde picked up his board.

The pigeons flew off. But the park stayed the same.

II. – The Court

The basketball court was empty, which somehow made it look bigger. The concrete radiated the day’s heat. Roxy sat under the hoop’s support pole, leaning her back against the rough metal as if it were the only thing holding her together. Nova was beside her, knees pulled up, chin resting on her arms.

Roxy was talking. The Roxy that only Nova ever heard. Fast, unfiltered, dangerously honest.

“So the idiot is sitting next to me on the armrest, and he says-with that damn British accent of his-that I should be careful because he’s starting to have ‘dangerous ideas.’ Dangerous ideas. Like that’s a normal thing to say.”

She went quiet for a moment.

“So… the whole night… I’m telling you… I was soaking through my panties. Physically. Not metaphorically. I’m sitting there, and with every sentence he drops, I’m thinking I should either get up and go home or just climb him right there. But I didn’t leave. And of course, I played it cool, because… damn, it felt good to feel that way about someone. I’ve never had that. It’s not just ‘oh, he’s hot.’ It’s more like ‘Jesus-Christ-please-right-now.’”

“It’s something else. It’s annoying.”

She laughed. A bit embarrassed. That’s the sound she only makes when they’re alone.

“Is that normal?”

Across the court, a bike rolled by. The chain clicked dryly. The kind of sound that always signals someone is moving on.

“Nova?”

Nova didn’t speak for a long time. Her gaze was fixed on the basketball net. Then she spoke. Slowly. Like she was hunting for the words-which, for Nova, was a warning sign in itself.

“He made a fool of himself. In a way that I couldn’t even be mad or laugh at him. It was like… he just walked in.”

She went silent, then took a long, deep breath.

“For years. I’ve been building that wall for years. Nobody questions it. Nobody gets to question it! Nobody sees through it. Nobody even tries. And then he comes along… he didn’t even try, he just stepped past it. He was just there. Like the wall didn’t even exist. He had the nerve to touch me and almost knocked me right out from behind my own defense…”

Silence.

“It’s unacceptable.”

Roxy watched her face. She knew that tone. It wasn’t anger. It was something else-the sound Nova makes when she can’t categorize something. And Nova categorizes everything. She sees everything. She gets everything.

It seemed Vexley Vane was the first and only person this didn’t work on.

“Are you mad?” Roxy asked softly.

Nova didn’t answer for a second.

“I don’t know.”

It was the most honest sentence Roxy had ever heard from her, because Nova always knows.

Then Nova, under her breath, almost to herself:

“So yeah. It was a good night.”