Hi all! I just want to give a brief warning for language and drug use (marijuana)
The window gets stuck about two centimeters up, so Ulrich has to lean on it and yank until his fingers hurt, just to get it open. It's hot out, humidity pouring in through the crack. The breeze is a blessed relief, as sticky as it is. Not for the first time, he laments living on the second floor, with the way the heat gets trapped up here.
Down below, Jim is muttering to himself as he paces the perimeter of the building. Ulrich can almost make out what he's saying, but he rounds a corner before he can fully catch it. It's probably for the best: if he knew he was being overhead, he'd probably trail off and say he'd rather not talk about it.
Sill, being on the second floor has it has it's perks.
With Jim gone, Ulrich pulls the pipe and lighter out of his sweatpants. The pipe is one of his favorites – green and gold swirls. It fits perfectly in his hand and holds just enough weed to get him comfortably high but still able to fall asleep at night. Odd gave it to him for his last birthday - indirectly anyway: he'd signed him up for a one-day glass-blowing class, and the instructor was cool enough pretend to not know what he was making.
Speaking of, Odd is out tonight – Priscilla invited him to a small party in her room. Ulrich laughed when he found out – like hell he'd have a chance with her. She's a year older and a good head taller. But Odd was his ever-optimistic self about it, so, as his good buddy, Ulrich did his duty to roll his eyes, and wished him luck.
He kinda gets it. Priscilla's cute – short, dark hair and a fashion sense that she's not afraid to be a little wild with. As he takes his first hit, blowing it out between the grated screen, he thinks to himself she's like a slightly edgier version of Yumi.
So yeah, he gets it.
Anyway, Priscilla is definitely Odd's type. He likes 'em a little wild. It's like skating, or doing flips on the Overboard when he really shouldn't. It's dangerous, and that makes it exciting - that's how he explained it, anyway.
Ulrich takes another hit and holds it in his mouth a moment, trying to make a ring when he blows out, but it just comes out as a blob and gets caught by the screen.
He definitely prefers girls who are, well... Quieter. More down to Earth. Someone he can just sit in the same room and exist with, someone who's just as lost in thought.
She fell asleep on his shoulder last night. They were watching Titanic, again, since it was Aelita's turn to pick a movie. Odd had complained, again, saying it was tragedy porn with no artistic merit, but privately Ulrich thinks that's because every time they watch it, the chance of being able to hide his tears when Jack disappears under the water get exponentially smaller. Ulrich doesn't blame him. Hell, even he gets misty-eyed sometimes.
Anyway. Usually, Yumi opts for the spot on the bed next to one of the Einsteins, but last night she plopped down next to him on the floor, saying something about wanting to stretch her legs. He glanced over her shoulder, where Jeremie and Aelita were sharing a look, but didn't stop her. Odd was relegated to his other side, to avoid having his sockfeet in their faces.
That's how they watched Titanic, cuddled up together in Ulrich and Odd's dormroom. A couple times, Yumi nodded off, half-slipping down onto Ulrich's shoulder, and Ulrich forgot how to breathe. His heart raced so loud he was sure the whole gang could hear it. Around the time Kate Winslett's boobs came onscreen, Yumi's head was fully tucked against his neck. He couldn't say anything then – Aelita is very insistent nobody make a sound during that scene in particular – so he just. Sat there. Trying not to move. Or breathe. All the while willing his heart-rate to go down.
If he thinks about it now, he can still feel the tickle of her hair against his throat, the weight of her head at rest. He'd let her stay there as long as she wanted. Forever, if she asked him to.
But that's the problem, isn't it?
She won't fucking ask. She'll just do this – do these things that make him feel like maybe he has a chance, like maybe they can actually be together – and then... And then... Something goes off in her head, some switch gets flipped, some anxiety triggered, and she shuts down. Shuts him out. Then they're just friends, that's all. He doesn't even know why, because she won't. Fucking. Tell. Him.
He sighs, taking a deep hit and feeling smoke trickle out his nose. He sneezes, then coughs, then laughs, because if Odd were here he'd make him do pushups as penalty.
Whatever.
He wanted to smoke tonight to forget all that.
He's feeling pretty hazy now, that last hit really did it for him. It's a nice behind-the-eyes kind of high that gets him fixated on one thing, like the dead ladybug in the corner of the windowsill, or the way the stars can still be seen behind the wispy clouds.
He wants to talk about it. He really, really wants to talk about it. But the person he wants to talk about it with is Yumi.
He sighs for what feels like the millionth time.
He's lucid enough still be able to work his phone. 20:47, still early. He taps a number in and lets it ring once, twice, three ti-
"H'lo?"
Aelita's voice is scratchy, as if she's getting tired.
"Hey!" He smiles into the receiver, "You awake?"
There's some tapping in the background – probably a laptop.
"Yeah, I am. Jeremie and I are just working on some last-minute calculations."
He chuckles.
"Sounds about right. Don't let Einstein keep you up all night, okay?"
"I won't." He hears the smile in her voice, "Everything alright, Ulrich?"
He sighs. Outside, a little bird hops from a treetop to a telephone wire.
"Um." He wants to say, yeah, all good, but suddenly, everything he's been trying not to feel is threatening to burst out of his chest. "Not really?" He says instead, his voice cracking on the last word.
"Oh, Ulrich," She says, as sweet as ever, "Hang on one sec, mkay?"
"Mmh."
She moves the phone away and he hears Einstein talking in the background, loud enough to recognize the sound of his voice but not loud enough to make out what they're saying. She comes back a few moments later, "We're in my room, can you sneak downstairs?"
"Um." The room has started to feel underwater, "I'm a little too high, I think."
After a second, Aelita laughs. It's tinny over the phone.
"Alright, shit. Give me ten, I'll be right there."
"'Kay."
He glances out the window – Jim is doing some stretches over by the fire exit. He'll be no match for Aelita's superstealth.
It is about ten minutes before there's a quiet knock on his door, but to Ulrich it feels like years. The room is definitely underwater now, the ceiling folding in and out, like he's an octopus trapped beneath a wave, or a stowaway hiding in a barrel below deck. Maybe he shouldn't've had that last hit. Ah, well.
"Come in," he says, at what he hopes is a low volume. The lock clicks, and then Aelita is in the doorway, silhouetted in the dull flourescent emergency lights in the hall. She's in pajamas and mismatched socks with no shoes. Briefly, Ulrich wonders how much uh, programming they were really getting up to.
"Hey," She says, breaking him out of his stupor by letting herself fully into the room and closing the door behind her.
"Hey."
She gets about halfway in the room – stopping at some invisible boundary at the end of the beds. Ulrich is over by his desk. She opens her arms and smiles, an invitation.
"Come here," She says, and he falls against her.
That's the nice thing about Aelita, she knows what you need before you do.
Her shirt is soft – worn cotton that feels good on his cheek. He tucks his head on her shoulder and she rubs up and down his back. They sway, and she hums a little song.
"You wanna talk about it?" She asks after a minute.
"Yeah," He says, and he can hear how tired he sounds. Eventually, he picks his head up, then leads her over to the desks. He takes one chair, she takes the other.
There's a gouge in the side of his desk, an ellipses of holes made by the desk's previous owner. It makes him a little sick to look at for too long, but now he wonders just how long it took. How long had some bored student sat and stuck a pencil in a groove, twirled it until it became large enough for him to stick a pinky finger in. Is it destruction of property, or creation of something new?
"It's Yumi," He says eventually.
"Mmh," She nods, "Because of the other night?"
So she noticed. He's not surprised. Aelita's the type to notice things – unlike her boyfriend.
"Yeah," He says, "Well, that, but also every other night before that. We keep – you know – having these moments, and it's like, I'll think she wants to, too, but then she doesn't and it's like, what? And I get so – so -" He makes a claw with his hand, wishing he had a paper to crumble in his hand. "Gah! You know?"
She fiddles with Odd's collection of pens as he talks, taking the one that looks like a cat out and clicking the tail a couple times.
"How high are you?"
"Yes."
She laughs again. It's a nice sound, like a bell. She puts the pen back.
"Why does it bother you?" After a pause, "I'm not saying it shouldn't, but I want to know why."
He sighs. He traces the ellipses hole with his fingernail, a piece of the paint coming up underneath.
"Fuck," He says, "I might be too high for this."
"Sorry," She grimaces.
He waves it away, "Nah. Just um, give me a minute." He thinks really, really hard, and eventually all the little fish in his brain swim in just the right pattern to make an even bigger fish, if he squints. Or something. Shut up. He's really high.
"It's like..." He says eventually, "If she didn't want to – fine. Like, that would suck, but like, whatever. I'd get over it. But then like, if she does want to, I don't know what the hold up is, and that makes me think, like, is it me? You know? Am I not – Jesus, I don't know – am I not manly enough for her? I don't know. I don't know!" He scowls down at the desk, where his latest D+ on his chem test scowls back. "Am I not good enough?"
Silence hangs in the air between them. When he looks up, Aelita is half-lit in the moonlight, concern knitting her brow.
"I'm sorry, Ulrich," She says apologetically, "If I knew, I'd tell you."
"I know you would."
She smiles at him, then looks away. She shuffles the papers on Odd's desk, then puts them back in roughly the same place as before.
"You want my opinion?" She asks, looking out the window.
"Please." He gestures for her to continue.
"Honestly? I don't think it's you. I think... I think she doesn't know what her deal is."
He sighs and flops back, following a crack in the ceiling with his eyes.
"Great. So I have all these feelings and she has none."
"I didn't say that," She snaps.
"Sorry."
He puts a hand up apologetically. She softens.
"It's okay," She says, "I just think..." She sighs, taking a moment to collect her words, "I think Yumi has a hard time expressing her feelings, or even knowing what they are."
"Great," He sighs.
He glances up, and she's looking out the window again. She glances over, smiling a little sadly.
"It's shit of her to lead you on like this."
"Yeah. Yeah, it is."
"What do you want to do?"
There's actually a small crack in the window, about a thumb-length long and diagonal. It's easy to miss at first, but when it's hot like this, or cold in the winter, he notices it. He touches it with the pad of his thumb, which sticks to the glass as he pulls back.
"Fuck, Aelita, I'd move mountains for her. I really would," He says, a little miserably.
"But...?"
He sighs.
"Like... Like you said, she's got shit to work out. We've all got shit. I mean, hell, we're trying to save the world on a bi-weekly basis."
She laughs.
"Right."
"Right. So like... whatever. I don't know. I'll just. Be here, I guess."
She takes a moment to absorb this before speaking.
"Is that fair to you, though?" She asks, raising an eyebrow.
Ulrich runs a fingertip around the mouth of his pipe.
"Probably not," He admits, "But I don't know what else to do. It's not really... Up to me, yanno?"
Aelita sighs and puts her hands out. Ulrich takes them. Her hands are dry, small, delicate but somehow firm. She squeezes.
"Do you want me to talk to her about it?"
He makes a face.
"Nah," He says, "At least, not yet? I'd like to try to talk to her first. Without getting anyone else involved."
"That's mature of you."
"Thanks," He says, "I'm learning from the best." He squeezes back. She smiles.
"I'm sorry, though. She's being a jerk."
"Thanks," He says, laughing a little humorlessly. "Thank you." He says more seriously.
"Of course."
They stay like that for a while, just being together, before he grimaces again, "Uh, sorry if I'm a jerk for interrupting your night with J."
She shrugs, "All good." At his look, she says, "Seriously, we just working on some calculations."
"Sure," He smirks, "I to-o-otally believe you."
She makes a face. "We were!"
"Uh-huh. Right. Maybe the calculations for the best angle to smush your faces together-"
"Shut up!" She laughs, hitting him in the arm, "Shut up, you – you-"
"What? Can't think of an insult?" He clicks his tongue, "Disappointing, Lita. And I thought I was the high one."
"You jerk!"
He leans back, crossing his arms, "So you can tell me there was absolutely no kissing involved in your, ahem, calculations?"
She turns as pink as her hair.
"Fuck off, Stern."
He laughs, full-bellied.
"Sorry," He says, waving the conversation away again, "Sorry, Lita. It's just too easy."
She rolls her eyes, leaning back in her chair.
"C'mon, lemme make it up to you," He insists, "How about, uh-" He looks around, trying to find something for them to do, but subjecting Aelita to Odd's dirty gym shorts aren't exactly his idea of penance. Belatedly, he realizes he still has weed left. "You wanna smoke?" He picks the bowl up and holds it out to her.
She looks at him suspiciously, eyes narrowed.
"Really?"
He shrugs, "Yeah, sure, princess."
She fiddles with the hem of her t-shirt. "I've never, um, I've never done it before," She admits after a moment.
He frowns.
"What, really? What about at Odd's birthday party?"
"Nah," She shrugs, looking wistful, "Jeremie had some work to do on the Skid, so we left early."
"Damn. Well then, princess, allow me to do the honors."
He holds the bowl out, and she leans in, holding it carefully between her lips. He walks her through it, showing her where to hold it, and how much to inhale.
"I think I got it," She says after a couple tries.
"Sweet. Remember to blow out the window, we don't want the whole floor smelling like weed, or Jim'll do another surprise inspection in the morning."
She laughs, looser than before, which tells him it's already working. He grins. On her next hit, she blows out the window in a perfect smoke ring.