Project
Tish despised him, and for some reason, Brick was all about her. He’d arrived on campus early for the slim chance of snagging a seat near her. Why was he still enamored with Tish when they’d never had so much as a thrilling conversation? Was it hope, habit, or obsession? Because the answer remained a mystery, Brick settled for the sophomoric rebuttal, 'just because.'
Regardless of how Tish treated him, she had been the first person in a long time to capture his heart. Perhaps he was a borderline masochist? Maybe he wanted someone unattainable, so they remained safe, unlike Fritz and Kaylen?
Two weeks ago, a rebel faction in Myanmar killed Fritz before Brick could reach him, despite his supernormal abilities. During winter break, his father ordered him to assist his ex-lover in taking down a rebel base and eliminating the leader. Exterminating the Russian general had been far too simple, but something troubling had occurred after that, which disturbed him even now.
When Brick engaged his powers, the energy was normally warm and full of light, and he remained calm and emotionless through the altercation. However, after Fritz’s death, boundless wrath filled him, and he vented that rage on the general and his elite protectors. That energy had been cold, dark, and limitless as it fed on his emotions. Instead of dissipating after the battle, the wrath had invited or, perhaps, created a dark seed in his body, which had taken up residence behind his solar plexus.
It lay dormant for the time being, but during his trip back to the United States, he’d touched it with his mind and discovered an orb smaller than a needlepoint, possessing infinite power within. The energy’s dark affinity initially concerned him, yet it emitted neither evil nor good, only a limitless reserve of power. So, like the other skill he’d hidden from his family, he kept it to himself.
An internet search yielded no results regarding the seed, but this did not surprise him. His predicament was unique. Hell, his mere existence defied belief, so why wouldn’t he manifest an anomaly that also eluded explanation? It’s too bad his birth didn’t come with an instruction manual.
Perhaps he should give up on Tish before she became a victim of his family’s vendetta. Like Fritz. Like Kaylen.
Brick stared at his reflection in the science hall doors’ mirrored surfaces, his nose puffing wisps of steam as each breath failed to thaw the frigid winter air. He had no idea when he’d arrived at the door or how long he’d been staring at himself.
It was fortunate that he arrived early so that no one might witness his psychosis, albeit other people’s opinions had never mattered to him. It may improve his image as the wimpy, pacifist nerd-freak and possibly earn him the title of weirdo extraordinaire. It was a poor cover like Clark Kent’s glasses, and the reason for their secrecy was almost nonexistent.
Hiding was pointless after Brick’s family made their stand in Colorado Springs. Their enemies knew where they were, but they had not made a move in nearly four years. He hoped the nameless organization would show up since they owed him a bucket of blood for everything they’d done. Without thinking, he clenched his fists firmly enough to force blood from his palms.
Let them come, Brick thought. Let them discover me, the culmination of their grand experiment, and I’ll make them pay for what they’ve done to my family.
Brick opened his eyes, having no recollection of closing them. The image peering back at him had just a passing similarity to what he considered normal. The fading traces of wrath had stiffened the medium-brown skin on his face and neck, and anguish had stolen the light once present in his dark brown eyes.
He wasn’t handsome, but he wasn’t hideous either. He was neither short, nor tall, at 188 centimeters, and he concealed his lean muscles beneath layers of oversized clothing to preserve his disguise, minus the Clark Kent glasses. For Brick, that would have been a bridge too far.
He closed his eyes again and sighed, trying to dispel his foul mood lest it awakened the dark seed. When he forced his fingers to wrap around the door handle, the cold hurt the bleeding crescents his fingernails had gouged into his palm.
Despite his feelings for Tish, he had to let her go. Of course, he’d never had her in the first place. Still, he needed to move on, but what would that do to him? Would he, like his father, retreat from the world? No. Mara wouldn’t let him. She’d kick his ass if he tried. The thought brought a smile to his face. He’d be fine as long as he had his sister. Mara gave him the courage to walk through the doors and into his Combined Sciences 401 class to begin his final semester of college.
When Brick entered the amphitheater-like auditorium, Tish and her entourage of soul-sucking sycophants had already claimed their seats, building a near-impenetrable wall around her. He struggled to maintain his smile as she turned her head and said hello to him, but it did shrink to a reasonable replica of a smirk without the power of sarcasm to back it up.
Her followers swiveled their heads his way, as if they were a single entity, staring at him with the soulless, blank eyes of androids. At least, that’s what he imagined. He sat towards the center of the room, four rows above and almost directly behind Tish. The buffer of space and people should be sufficient to keep him from falling off the wagon during the first step of his version of the AA, the After-Tish Anonymous twelve-step program, assembly of one.
Tish rose and walked to the central aisle, then up the stairs. She stopped at the end of Brick’s row and approached him. He was too stunned to do anything but stare as she perused him with her cinnamon-colored eyes. She gazed, not glared, and offered him a smile for good measure. Searching for malice, he couldn’t find any. It was truly bizarre.
Except a memory sprang to mind. She’d been almost cordial during the final couple of weeks of the semester before winter break. Her eyes hadn’t ridiculed him, and her words hadn’t been tainted by disdain when she’d talked to him. He’d dismissed it as holiday spirit.
A 165-centimeter-tall gymnast stood before him, dressed in an alluring yet casual ensemble of dark blue distressed jeans and a basic, purple, form-fitting long-sleeved tee. Tish was a handsome woman. While her looks narrowly evaded classic beauty, her intelligence, charisma, and scathing wit set her apart from other women. Her thick, waist-length, wavy black hair and medium-brown skin tone represented a blend of her African and South Asian heritages.
“Too late again, Brick. I tried to make room, but the others rushed in and surrounded me. Sorry.”
“You’ve never been sorry before. What’s different now?” Brick regretted that he hadn’t managed to exorcise the sarcasm from his tone. A few gasps from the peanut gallery floated upward, disturbing the silence.
Either Tish didn’t catch it, or she chose to ignore his snark because she didn’t react to his snark. “I wanted to speak to you before class. I was hoping you’d call me back before the semester started.”
“Call you back?” Curiosity drove Brick’s eyebrows toward the bridge of his nose. Her sycophants began murmuring among themselves. He filtered out their banter.
Tish cocked her head to the side. “Yah. I called and left messages.”
Brick’s eyebrow raised against his will. “Messages? Plural?”
“Yah.”
Searching for irony in her reaction, Brick found none. He retrieved his phone from his book bag and examined it for the first time since returning from Myanmar. She had indeed called him several times and left messages. Then the internal whys and the hopes and desires followed, which he shoved to the side with great difficulty.
Brick restrained his emotions and responded, determined to stay the course. “Oh. Sorry about that, Tish. I was unreachable. I spent the holidays in the wilderness.”
At the very least, it wasn’t a lie. He despised lying and had advanced to grandmaster level in truth-stretching. Of course, the philosophy did not apply when he was on mission. Everything was on the table in the field.
Tish exposed more cuteness by raising her eyebrows. “Oh. No service?”
Brick struggled to maintain a flat tone. “Not even close.”
“Didn’t you check your messages when you got back?” Tish asked. She glanced at a student who descended the stairs and nodded at him.
“No reason. You have to have friends and family to get messages, and the only ones I have live in the same house as I do.” Brick glared at the guy who leered at Tish’s rear end as he passed.
Despite his best efforts, Brick felt himself tumbling from the AA wagon. How did she manage to disarm him without even trying?
The earth must have begun tilting off its axis because her eyes expressed sympathy. “I had no idea. Sorry.”
Brick’s brain had a hard time accepting what his senses told him. What in the hell is going on?
“Not your problem. What can I do for you, Tish?”
She was like a bottle of vodka sitting before an alcoholic. Brick stopped himself. No. She was more like a fine vintage cognac or a well-aged single-malt scotch.
He pondered. Did I just call her an old woman? Well, it’s better than reducing her to outdated male stereotypes like eyes, lips, hair, and breasts. Isn’t it? Maybe?
“We don’t have time to go into it right now, Brick, but please keep an open mind about me. Please? Yes, I’ve been a bitch to you, but if you give me a chance, I’d like to try and make up for it.”
Though he squinted his eyes, inside his heart leaped. “I don’t know.”
What in the world is going on? Is she from Htrae, Superman’s alternate reality Bizarro World? Is this some Bizarro-Tish I’m dealing with?
“Trust is difficult for both of us, Brick, but with time, perhaps we can find a way. What do you say?”
“I’ll think about it, Tish. It’s too abrupt, and I’m not sure I understand your motives.”
Brick anticipated anger from his remark, but he found reason.
“I’d expect nothing less from the second-biggest brain in the school.” The corner of her mouth tilted up.
She was joking with him. Tish was joking with him?”
“Gotta visit the Rink, Brick. Bye for now.”
Now I know the script done flipped up in here. Or it hasn’t, and she’s trying to punk me.
As she made her way back to the steps, disaster struck. Tish began to fall. Perhaps her foot hooked one of the seat mounts. Brick wouldn’t allow her to hurt herself, even if it meant revealing his abilities. He shifted into hyper mode. This boosted his senses and reaction time so much that Tish’s plummet became an ultra-slow-motion cut scene, no music, though. He examined the entire classroom. No one was looking their way, so he took a chance.
From his perspective, Brick stood, strolled over to Tish, climbed over the seats until he was directly in front of her, fell to one knee, and positioned himself to catch her. The droids forming her shield rotated their heads, their mouths open and eyes wide.
Martial arts and gymnastics training had taught her how to fall, and she had already started twisting to make contact with her shoulder rather than face-planting or risking a broken arm to catch herself.
Despite her excellent physical condition, he didn’t want to risk dislocating her shoulder by grasping her arm from behind. Disengaging hyper once he was in position, she fell into his waiting arms. as her startled squeal pierced his ears.
“What the hell?” Tish attracted the full attention of her group.
A light breeze ruffled her hair, but Brick didn’t think she noticed. Even though his abilities violated the principles of physics, some components of science refused to be denied.
Smiling, he focused on Tish’s face. “Are you all right? Seems as though the chair jumped out and tripped you.”
“Wait. How did you? But you were... What the hell, Brick?”
“You made me think of the Rink, so I was behind you. I guess you didn’t see me.” Again, not a falsehood, but stretching the truth to its technical limit.
“But... But... Oh, forget it. Thank you, Brick. That would have been a bad fall.”
Tish lay in his arms, her back resting on his knee. She looked up at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, smiling.
One side of her mouth curled upward. “Well, you could lift me up… or something.”
With the last two words, her broad smile turned predatory yet seductive, destroying any residual thoughts of giving up on her.
Gasps echoed around the room from the twenty, or so students now in the room. Brick struggled to remember exactly when they’d shown up. Had they witnessed his heroics? Was his cover blown now? He found he didn’t care. Tish was in his arms.
“And if I choose the or something?”
“It could be wild and wonderful; I might draw blood or maybe both. You willing to take the risk, Brick?”
Now, this was more like his Tish, minus the claws. Her reaction was mild in comparison: stranger and curiouser.
Brick, the operative, would not hesitate and wear the consequences as badges of honor, but the nerd would not, so he stood up and helped her back to her feet.
Her smile vanished, replaced by an expression he couldn’t place, but it appeared to be disappointment. There was no way to tell for sure because they seldom hung out. Despite being able to read strangers in the field in less than a minute, he had no idea how to read her. He’d either built up mental blinders when it came to the woman before him, or she had some serious mojo.
Tish’s shoulders drooped. “That’s too bad. I wish I knew what I would have done.”
Brick’s ears warmed and the flush ran down the back of his neck. “Wait. You didn’t know?”
Having lost interest in them, the gallery’s chatter lowered to a normal level.
“It would have depended on how good you were. Well, I’m off to the rink. Coming?”
Brick shook his head, wondering why she was so focused on him. “Nope, changed my mind.” It couldn’t be because he’d sav—.
Tish darted in and kissed him on the cheek before flying up the stairs, yelling over her shoulder, “Thanks again!”
As Brick swept his fingertips across the place of contact, he discovered a little moisture from her lips remained. Forcing the grin from his face, he dried his fingers on his jeans.
◆◆◆
Everyone dubbed the restrooms in the Phinegan T. Jarvis science hall, The Rink, when a group of kids, who had much too much time and creativity, executed a stunt three years ago. Earlier in the semester, they completed a fluid dynamics segment and a chemistry session on theoretical refrigerant formulas and decided to put theory into practice.
Someone who shall not be named spent a sleepless night testing a solution that came to him in a dream and solicited the assistance of two other genius students. They flooded the co-ed restrooms and sprayed the water with the freezing solution invented by the unknown student. In less than a minute, it froze into an almost undetectable, ultra-slippery barrier. Classes started around a half-hour later. After three hours and various hilarious mishaps, the ice dissolved into a swiftly dispersing cloud of steam, leaving a fine crystalline powder on the floor that easily washed down the drain.
No one ever discovered any evidence revealing the identity of the perpetrators, and nobody claimed responsibility. Campus security dropped the case because no students or faculty were seriously injured. So far, stories of the epic stunt have survived three years and may become an urban legend of the science building. At the very least, the unnamed one hoped so.
◆◆◆
Brick sighed again as he sank back in his chair. Wasn’t it his luck that just as he was about to let Tish go, she up and dumped a block of C4 in his lap and shoved a deadman’s detonator into his hand?
Though deep in meditation about recent occurrences, he kept a subconscious awareness of his surroundings for his safety. While it had little effect on his stream of thought, Brick noticed when Tish returned, his classmates filled the room, and the professor, Dr. Sandra Brennan, called the class to order.
The same part of him acknowledged that the professor had announced the class project she’d revealed to him the night before. However, the majority of his intellect was still engaged in solving the puzzle of Tish’s abrupt evolution.
After his senses noted an uncharacteristic reduction in sound within the classroom, he retreated from his cerebral meanderings and entered an aural vacuum where a pin drop would have sounded like a thunderclap. He brought the rest of his thoughts back into the world, only to discover that all the students in the classroom were staring at him… every single one of them.
Brick’s nerves pinged like a Geiger counter as he scanned from left to right. “What? What did I do?”
Of course, the pout had to look so blasted adorable on Tish. “You completely ignored me, Mason Redstone. I chose you as my project partner, and you just sat there staring at the wall.”
The silence was unsettling, like everyone held their breath, waiting for word from him to exhale. Brick was not used to, nor did he want that type of attention. Despite everything, there he was, the center of the enclosed universe of the classroom. The weight of their collective gaze weighed on him. Two pairs of eyes bored into him. One pair hovered over perfect lips smiling from the front of the classroom. The other beneath furrowed brows, from a few rows below.
Brick only addressed the closest pair as his emotions pulled up the right side of his mouth, just a little. “Why me, Tish? We’re not friends.”
Her brows relaxed. “Maybe not, but I believe we’d work well together.”
“Seems like the last three years and more have told a different story.”
A set of wrinkled formed over the bridge of Tish’s nose. “You really want to go down this road right now?”
“You started it.”
“In front of all these people, Brick?”
Everyone, including the still smiling Professor Brennan, followed the exchange with their eyes as if they watched a Ping Pong tournament. Several of them uttered verbal reactions to the jabs Tish and Brick traded.
Suppressing the dark seed that threatened to awaken, Brick allowed a little irritation to show. “They’re just collateral damage. Let’s get it all out… or you could back off.”
If darts could fly from her eyes, they would at this moment. “If you had answered your damn phone, I wouldn’t have to start anything.”
Brick dragged his brows down to the bridge of his nose, stretched his lips thin across clenched teeth, and answered in a rumbling growl as he stood up slowly. “I was busy. I’m not one of your sycophants, so I’m not privy to your every whim, princess.”
Tish leaped from her seat. “Don’t call me princess, Brick.” Tish spat out his nickname as if it were a curse.
They exchanged stares across what appeared to be an unbridgeable chasm. When their argument reached its ultimate crescendo, the classroom fell deathly silent.
Why was he doing this? At any other time, he would have jumped for joy at the prospect of working with Tish. But it wasn’t any other time, was it? Still, he should reserve his rage for those who deserved it. Tish didn’t.
Brick reined in the anger; afraid it would fully awaken the dark seed. He relaxed the muscles in his face, offering a neutral expression. As reason returned, he wondered why Sandra, or rather, Professor Brennan, hadn’t stopped them. One quick look and her familiar half-smile explained everything. She was enjoying their exchange.
Brick apologized, placing his hands together as if praying. “I’m sorry, Tish; I guess we both struck a nerve.”
Softening her expression, she exhaled sharply, as if astonished at how long she’d held her breath.
“I’m sorry too. Look, we’ve had our disagreements, mostly my fault, but I think we’d make a great team. Your skills complement mine, and we both need the extra credit to graduate summa. If we work together, I believe we can win.”
The winning team of Professor Brennan’s project would pass the class and receive extra credit for their overall grade for the semester. Additionally, if the judges determined the winner’s presentation to be viable, the university would provide them with a research and development grant and a partial scholarship for a graduate degree. Brick would be a fool to decline Tish’s offer. And she was right. Their skills did complement each other, and Brick would love to work with Tish in close quarters.
Oh, she’s not done talking yet.
Brick cringed at that last thought since not too long ago, his Lit. professor had slapped him across the face with the metaphorical gauntlet over the difference between the words done and finish. Despite the situation, his voice echoed in Brick’s mind, “People finish while things are done. Remember that Brick.”
Filled with snark, Tish’s next words spilled forth. “I figured you’d jump at the chance to be close to the woman you love.”
Brick would have leaped to his feet if he hadn’t already been standing. “Aw hell naw.” His temper flared for the second time and his eyebrows returned to their position on the bridge of his nose.
Despite his clenched teeth, his response was crystal clear. “If we do this, and that’s a big frigging if, you will NOT use my feelings against me. Is that understood?”
Tish sat there, jaws agape and eyes wide.
That must be her look of astonishment.
Brick searched faces and found similar expressions throughout the classroom as light banter tickled his ears and not in a good way. His actions were out of character. He didn’t stand up for himself, and he didn’t show emotion. Everyone called him the wimpy, pacifist nerd-freak, which was precisely how he wanted it. With a bit of luck, one anomalous episode wouldn’t strip away his cloak of invisibility.
“Is that clear, Tish?”
“Um, yah, Brick. Sorry. I just… I mean…” Her next words came out in a near-whisper. “Is it true, Brick?”
He sighed. Perhaps they shouldn’t have done this in front of everyone, but it’s not like they didn’t already know. He never had to face it in public because only a few people talked to him on the daily. Still, he never disputed it on those rare occasions when someone did.
“Depends on whether you believed my ex-bestie when she outed me, Tish.”
Contrition was not something he expected from Tish, but there it was. “Well, I’m asking you, and who better to ask than the source?”
The way she gazed at him after her query made Brick question everything he deemed indisputable. Tish wore another of those looks he couldn’t place, but if he had to guess, it was somewhere between curiosity and what? Wonder? Concern? Interest? He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Why? Why do you need to know?”
Dead silence reigned in the classroom once again. Every student, and the Professor, remained focused on their every word.
“I don’t need to, and I can’t explain why, Brick. I’d just like to know… If you want to tell me, that is… It’s fine if you don’t.”
Searching for malice in her eyes and body language, he found none. Tish remained a mystery to him. In the field, he had little trouble reading people. Hell, it was necessary for his success and survival. Did his feelings affect him that much? Maybe, making it, and her, a severe liability, but would he pass up a chance to work with the woman of his dreams? His heart told him no, and his subsequent words confirmed his rebellion against the family philosophy of the head before the heart.
Focusing on her face, Brick conveyed his answer. “Yes, it’s true.”
“Oh.” Her expression softened into a half-smile. “I really hope you’ll work with me on this project. Will you?”
After a moment’s hesitation, Brick surrendered to his heart. “Sure. Why not?”
Tish’s next transformation confirmed he’d made the right choice. Joy spilled from her every word. “I’m glad you’ll be my partner. Or… or rather, that you’ll partner with me, Brick. Thanks”
The room exploded with applause, and nearly everyone stood up cheering. 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 their dialogue was better than the last play, and another was upset that they hadn’t recorded the entire thing because it would have gone viral.
Professor Brennan chimed in once the uproar subsided, her Irish burr slightly thicker than usual. “Well, that was quite the show, you two. Let’s hope your project will at least be half as stimulating as this little tiff we witnessed.”
A few snickers rang around the classroom.
Brick began apologizing, but the Professor motioned him to stop. “No need to apologize, Mr. Redstone. Yours was a thoroughly enjoyable exchange… enjoyable and revealing.”
She flashed him that smile. The one that fueled Brick’s fantasies when Professor Brennan tutored him and what came after the lessons concluded.
Tish narrowed her eyes and flicked her gaze between him and the professor, but Sandra’s following words broke the spell.
Professor Brennan waved her arms as if dismissing the two of them. “Because 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 Tish’s mouth also hung open. The classroom exploded again, this time with catcalls, complaints, and a few congratulations tossed in. 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.
