--ep. 11, Ch. IV. part 3, cont. from part 2.--

Still seething from Robert's news, I grudgingly agree to have lunch downtown with Sven and Linus before our next D&D session. We're sitting on a bench outside The Carcass and they are happily consuming multiple quarter-pounders with cheese. With no table manners whatsoever. Depression always destroys my appetite so I'm nibbling timidly at a bagel with lox and capers.
               "What's that?" asks Sven, pointing at my bagel and wrinkling his, very large, nose with distaste. 
               "High class food," I sniff. "You wouldn't understand." I reflect bitterly that Robert probably understands lox and capers better than I do. Sven rolls his eyes.
               "Oh, don't mind her," says Linus sympathetically. I glare at both of them and there's an uncomfortable silence. "So…does anyone know what's up with Mike?" Linus asks, probably just to say something. 
               "He said he had stuff to do," I say. "He'll come over when he finishes it. Whenever that is…" 
              "Well, I have stuff to do too," says Sven, finishing his second cheeseburger and standing up. "See you guys in about an hour."
               After he's gone, Linus finishes his burger more slowly and I keep picking at my bagel. Suddenly, I look up and who do I see but Robert walking on the other side of the street with a garment bag over each arm? "You stupid bastard," I yell after him but he keeps walking and doesn't seem to notice.
               Linus observes my outburst with surprise. "You like him?" he asks after a moment of thought.
               "Yea, pretty much," I say sourly. Better to just be honest. Trying to lie now will just make me look dumb. "And a lot of good it's doing me too."
               "So I noticed." He slides closer an puts and arm around my shoulders. "I know how much it sucks,” he says quietly. "The guy I like will never return my feelings either."
               "Uh…guy?" I've never had a gay friend, even though, according to popular wisdom, all girls apparently need one. I don't have a problem with it, I'm just surprised because he seems so much like the rest of the guys we hang out with. I certainly can't see us talking about shoes or whatever girls are supposed to talk about with their gay friends.
               "That's right," he says, slightly defensive, then glances significantly at the empty spot at the end of the bench. My brain is very busy being mad at Robert today so it takes a while to realize what he means.
               "Oh my god," I cry in disgust. "You like Sven?" Linus nods. There goes the last of my appetite. What is with all these people liking Sven anyway? It must be really nice to be fat, greasy, belch at will, and have the brains of an avocado and still have people throwing themselves at you. I, on the other hand, can't manage, even though I'm polite and bath regularly. I blame the fact that Sven's a guy and standards are always so much lower for guys. Girls have to be pretty and feminine and shit like that. I hate being a girl. 
              "Well, I'll never understand why,” I say, trying to conceal my queasiness as best I can, "but good luck…I guess."
               "Thanks, good luck to you too," he says as we finish our lunch and prepare to walk to my house. 
            Jeff is out of town, Robert, of course is not here, and Mike is, presumably, still busy, so it's just me, Linus, and Sven today. But this is probably for the best because my family's having company tonight and don't want a bunch of guys trashing the living room, so we've been removed to the guest room. There's nothing to sit on there except the bed. Sven kicks off his shoes and lies down on it as if he owns the place, taking up the whole thing. Extremely put out by this, I huddle up down at the end, pulling my knees up to my chest and trying to balance my rule book on them with difficulty. Linus squeezes onto the edge of the bed, about level with Sven's chest, seeming not to mind the lack of personal space at all.

                   Not mind? Of course he doesn't mind! Suddenly, I remember what Linus told me at lunch. So nice for him that his life doesn't suck as much as mine does right now, but I really don't want to see confirmation of that fact. Grinding my teeth, I keep my eyes focused on the rule book. "You wake up in a cellar," I say stiffly, "still sore from the fight where you were knocked out. You still have your holy symbol," I point at Linus without looking, "and your dagger," I point at Sven. "But all your other supplies are gone. The others are not here and you both have your ankles chained together."

               "So are my ankles chained to his ankles or just to each other?" asks Sven, obviously thinking this is funny. "Just to themselves but the chains are heavy and make a lot of noise. There is a pile of sacks of grain in one corner, otherwise the room is empty." They spend nearly half an hour wasting most of their spells on the door. Then, they finally have the bright idea of moving the sacks and find a sewer grate underneath. They crawl into the grate and I take malicious pleasure in having the chains catch on anything and everything and assigning penalties accordingly.                         Looking up from plotting their course on my map of the sewer system, I see that Linus has slowly relaxed so he's actually leaning on Sven now. "As you round the corner, your chain snags on a piece of rock and you fall on the hard ground," I snap. "Take three damage." I’m furious. Linus knows how wretched I am today, that seeing someone else get close to the person they like will just rub my own loss in my face. He was so sympathetic earlier. But now that his own feelings are at stake, he selfishly decides to ignore mine. It feels like another mini-betrayal on top of Robert's betrayal earlier and it's more than I can take. I'm so miserable and so angry that I'm no longer thinking. Half wanting to spite Linus and half just longing for some comfort, any comfort, I fling myself down on the bed and put my cheek against Sven's knee. If he isn't pushing Linus off, he better not push me off. I'm no catch but at least I'm female. Nothing happens and I try to ignore how embarrassed and uncomfortable I feel as I describe their ambush by a group of giant frogs. 

               As we reach the third round of combat, I feel a gentle movement against my neck and my spine turns to ice. Sven raises his leg I'm not leaning on and rests the knee against my shoulder, then places his foot against my back. I feel hollow all through my body and time slows so each breath seems to take forever. He flexes his toes on my back and I tell myself it's because his foot itches and not because it's me. 
               "Roll for initiative." My voice cracks as I say it. This is not like when I hit him with the book. Whether it's on purpose or an accident, there is no way I can view this action as an attack. Besides, if anything, it's really my fault, so I don't have my anger to protect me now. Nothing stands between me and the knowledge that a guy is touching me, seemingly on purpose, in a nice way, and at a time when I feel so rejected. Tension spreads through my muscles. I dare not move because I'm terrified he'll come to his senses and pull away from me. That or think I'm trying to come on to him. I assume everyone analyses other people's actions as much as I do. My palms fill with sweat so it's almost impossible to hold the book steady.
               About an hour later, they leave, after having finally escaped the sewers. But, long after they are gone, I sit there, rigid, on the edge of the bed, feeling my heart turn over, each beat slow and heavy like the stroke of a sledge hammer. Even hours later, I can still feel him touch me, still smell the unwashed odor of his skin clinging to my shirt. I can't get him out of my nose, my skin, or my brain. I keep seeing Sven laughing, showing all his big white teeth, or giving his mischievous look, the front part of his hair falling across his face. He's got really blue eyes. I never noticed that before.
              Filled with restlessness, I get up and pace the room, then catch sight of myself in the mirror. My cheeks are red, not blotchy like with anger, but glowing with pent up energy. Then I see my eyes in the reflection. I know that look. Those are Kendra's eyes. In them I can read the truth and Doom falls on me. 

--end of Chapter IV. -- 

Copyright: Amanda Hamlin

Not to be used by A.I. without permission of the author.

Cover art by Eric Hamlin

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Also read:

 “Deliverance from the Eye” a short story by Amanda Hamlin, free at https://amandahamlin.stck.me

“Ravenlord,” a short story from the point of view of a woman should be read by all men, is also available at https://amandahamlin.stck.me and on TAPAS

Also, go to: “All That is Gold” at URL:     http://allthatisgoldwriting.blogspot.com/p/httpsdrive.html

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 4/17/26