In only a couple of deliveries, Ferris\u2019 apartment was nearly complete. He still wasn\u2019t quite sure how he\u2019d coerced Demos into helping him build five bookcases and a dining set. Demos was infamous for avoiding nearly every form of manual labor and had blatantly labeled his choices as \u2018plebeian furnishings.\u2019 Even so, he had folded up his sleeves and picked up an allen wrench, keeping his complaints to a minimum.<\/p>\n
Ferris was certain that he had received every box in his order and was therefore puzzled as he stood staring at the new one that had arrived just that afternoon. Upon discovering its contents, he immediately gave the Italian a call.<\/p>\n
\u201cHello?\u201d came a sluggish voice from the other end of the line.<\/p>\n
\u201cDemos, it\u2019s six p.m. Are you seriously still in bed?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d Demos lied. Ferris could hear the mattress creak as he rolled over.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cSure. Anyway, you feel like telling me why the delivery guy just dropped off a giant box of knives?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, good. They came,\u201d Demos replied, sitting up in bed and rubbing a hand over his face.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, I figured you had something to do with this.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey\u2019re for cooking.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t need this many knives,\u201d Ferris said, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder as he held up a particularly intimidating serrated blade.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey\u2019re not for you<\/i>. They\u2019re for me<\/i> \u2014 when I cook at your place. Don\u2019t use them. Actually, don\u2019t even touch them.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat the hell is this one, a sword?\u201d Ferris asked, ignoring his friend\u2019s demand as he examined another one.<\/p>\n
\u201cA sw-\u2026 oh, that\u2019s a knife sharpener. Don\u2019t touch that either.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you sure this apartment is for me?\u201d Ferris asked, eyeing the piano in the living room.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere\u2019s like a billion books in it, of course it\u2019s yours.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cRight. Now get out of bed before the sun sets you piece of shit vampire.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt was just a nap,\u201d Demos whined, flopping back onto his pillow. \u201cLike you did anything all day.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI went to work<\/i>. I have a real job, in case you forgot.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHey, I have a real job, too.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, what is it you tell people? You work in \u2018restaurant management?\u2019\u201d Ferris asked, pushing the box aside on the counter.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s a legitimate business,\u201d Demos insisted, draping an arm over his eyes. \u201cAnyway, how was<\/i> work?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt was fine. Actually, my boss called me into her office. She offered\u2014\u201c Ferris started, then paused. The memory was still fresh in his mind \u2014 the meeting had happened only hours ago.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019ve been here for nearly a year,\u201d his manager said, sorting through a stack of papers as he watched from across her desk. \u201cAnd we\u2019re quite pleased with your performance.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAh,\u201d Ferris replied, unsure how to take the compliment. \u201cThank you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou may have heard there are some openings at HQ. They asked me to choose a few promising new hires to fly over for interviews. You\u2019re not CPA certified yet, but they\u2019re willing to overlook it if you pass the exam within the year.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOpenings?\u201d Ferris asked, taking a moment to process her words.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s right,\u201d she said, folding her hands on top of the glass desk. \u201cFinancial analyst. With, of course, plenty of opportunities for advancement.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris grasped for a response. He had expected to go years without promotion and was reeling from the proposal. When his thoughts finally put themselves in order, one agonizing detail stood out.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou said it was at HQ,\u201d he said, hoping he had misheard.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, in Seattle. We would give you a short leave for the interview process.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSeattle,\u201d Ferris mouthed, his gaze dropping to the desk. He took in a breath, noticing that the air was suddenly stale. His eyes closed, then opened again.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m honored you\u2019d consider me,\u201d he began, \u201cbut I\u2019m afraid I can\u2019t leave Southport.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAh,\u201d his boss replied, her mouth flattening. \u201cYou\u2019re certain? It\u2019s practically a thirty percent pay raise.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes. I\u2019m sorry, Ms. Singh.\u201d<\/p>\n
As the memory finished playing in his mind, Ferris made the quick decision to keep it to himself.<\/p>\n
\u201cOffered what?\u201d Demos asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cOffered\u2026 ah, offered to let me start seeing more clients. Less office work, you know?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh. That\u2019s\u2026 that\u2019s good, right?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah,\u201d Ferris said, his voice already starting to trail. \u201cAnyway, I\u2019d better go.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGo? I thought I could come try out those knives,\u201d Demos said, his voice sweetening considerably.<\/p>\n
\u201cI have a date, remember?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, oh right. Another one. I\u2019ll come console you with ice cream when it\u2019s finished, okay?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCome on, they don\u2019t go that<\/i> badly,\u201d Ferris said with a grimace.<\/p>\n
\u201cUh huh. Have fun, Fish. I\u2019ll get H\u00e4agen-Dazs, okay? Bye!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cShut up,\u201d Ferris snapped, waiting a moment before finishing. \u201cAnd get Ben & Jerry\u2019s!\u201d<\/p>\n With that, he ended the call, glad that he couldn\u2019t see Demos\u2019 smarmy grin through the phone.<\/p>\n Melchior was a French bistro situated just north of Foley Park. Its high ceilings accommodated rows of gold-lit lamps and the air was infused with the scent of freshly baked bread. Ferris had learned, the hard way, that Italian restaurants had entirely too much red sauce for a first date and there were apparently some people who didn\u2019t like sushi. He hoped, quite warily, that French would be safe.<\/p>\n The entrance was filled with patrons waiting for their tables, though some had filtered into the street for a cigarette or two. Trying to think over the sounds of conversation and clinking glassware, he scanned the tables for anyone who might be sitting alone.<\/p>\n Two rows in, he spotted the back of her head. It seemed she had mustered up the courage to arrive, dashing his hopes of being stood up. At least with a no-show he wouldn\u2019t have had to make an excuse to his mother as to why he wasn\u2019t engaged yet.<\/p>\n \u201cHi,\u201d he said, peering past her as he approached the table. \u201cAre you Alexis?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cUm, yes,\u201d she replied, throwing together a quick smile as she looked up from the menu. \u201cJust \u2018Alex\u2019 is fine. You must be Ferris.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s me,\u201d he replied, sliding into the seat across from her. He glanced at her water glass, which was already half-empty. \u201cSorry, were you waiting long?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWaiting? Oh, not\u2014 well, I came a little early, to get relaxed. I\u2019m not really great at meeting new people. I get anxious and start rambling. Oh, god, I\u2019m already rambling,\u201d she said, covering her face with one hand.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t worry,\u201d he said, giving her a faint smile. \u201cI\u2019m not good at meeting new people, either.\u201d<\/p>\n She gave a nervous laugh, turning her hand to fidget with her hair. A moment later, she realized what she was doing and quickly forced her hands into her lap. Ferris watched her for a moment, trying to recall if they\u2019d met before. Her copper-red hair fell to her chin, its shade one he couldn\u2019t possibly have forgotten.<\/p>\n \u201cI feel like I\u2019m supposed to know you from somewhere,\u201d he admitted. \u201cBut\u2026 I can\u2019t seem to place you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, don\u2019t worry. We\u2019ve never met. Our moms play mahjong together on Tuesdays.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAh,\u201d he said, making a realization. \u201cDoes your mother do this a lot?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAll the time,\u201d Alex said with a sigh. \u201cI keep telling her it\u2019s a waste of time and\u2026 oh! Not that this<\/i> is a waste of time.\u201d<\/p>\n She quickly averted her eyes, tensely using both hands to adjust her glasses.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s okay,\u201d Ferris said, glad to see that she shared his sentiments. \u201cYou can admit it. I\u2019m tired of these things, too.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah?\u201d Alex said, looking up and giving her first genuine smile of the night.<\/p>\n \u201cYeah. But, you know, there\u2019s no winning against Mom. I just don\u2019t know how to tell her\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, are you gay?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cW-what? I\u2014 what gave you\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAh! I\u2019m sorry. I just thought\u2026 well, that\u2019s a really nice shirt for a straight guy.\u201d<\/p>\n Ferris laughed, rubbing the back of his neck as their waiter approached. It wasn\u2019t the first time he\u2019d been asked such a thing. He made a mental note to never wear one of Demos\u2019 gifts to a date again.<\/p>\n \u201cAre you ready to order?\u201d the waiter asked, readying his pen.<\/p>\n Ferris welcomed the distraction, quickly skimming the menu and locating the New England cod. Alex ordered an entree of duck confit, as well as a bottle of wine for the table. Normally, he would have welcomed the distraction of alcohol, but now found himself genuinely curious about the woman in front of him.<\/p>\n \u201cAnyway,\u201d she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. \u201cWhat do you do?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI work in accounting,\u201d he said helplessly. \u201cThrilling, right?\u201d<\/p>\n Alex made a sound that seemed to be the start of a laugh, but quickly ended when she cleared her throat.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s okay,\u201d she insisted. \u201cI don\u2019t even have a job \u2014 I\u2019m still in school.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh? What are you studying?\u201d he asked, leaning forward over his folded hands.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m getting a masters in biochemistry at SPU,\u201d she mumbled, staring down at her glass. \u201cBut I guess that\u2019s pretty boring, right?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAre you kidding me?\u201d Ferris blurted, his attention piqued. \u201cThat\u2019s amazing. When are you graduating? What do you want to do afterwards?\u201d<\/p>\n For a moment, Alex only stared at him. It was apparent that this was an unusual response and it took her a second to process his excitement. As she gathered herself, a grin swept across her face.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll be done next year. I want to do clinical research, or maybe forensics. My friends say forensics is gross, but I don\u2019t know, it\u2019s like\u2026 like finding order in chaos. Like having a big box of puzzle pieces that are just wreckage and ligaments and putting them together to find a story \u2014 the whole story. Though I think I\u2019d honestly be more afraid of being a court witness than dealing with a corpse. I just \u2014 um, sorry, is this weird? This is weird, isn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n Ferris honed in on her words, too focused on them to notice the arrival of their wine, nor the fact that he was blushing.<\/p>\n \u00a0For the rest of the evening, he forgot that he was taking part in one of his mother\u2019s contrived arrangements. Their conversation flowed animatedly from one thing to another, to molecules, taxonomy, and unbearably long books written by long-dead authors \u2014 topics which Seamus and Demos would sooner fall asleep to than chat about.<\/p>\n Two orders of profiteroles completed their meal, followed by the bill. Ferris reached for it instinctively, faltering when their hands met on the black holder.<\/p>\n \u201cLet me get it,\u201d she said, flushing as she drew back her hand.<\/p>\n \u201cBut it wouldn\u2019t be right,\u201d he insisted. \u201cYou\u2019re a student.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cA grad<\/i> student,\u201d Alex corrected, taking the opportunity to place down her credit card.<\/p>\n \u201cAll right, well, I\u2019ll get it next time,\u201d Ferris offered, then paused to touch the back of his head. \u201cUm, if you\u2019d like to, that is. Have a\u2026 next time.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019d really like that,\u201d she said, her voice softening.<\/p>\n For a minute, neither spoke, both needing a moment to take in what they\u2019d agreed to.<\/p>\n \u201cOh god,\u201d Ferris muttered. \u201cI\u2019m going to have to tell my mother she was right about something.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMe too. She\u2019ll never let me live it down,\u201d Alex said, her face contorting with the realization.<\/p>\n \u201cJust tell her I was horrible and spilled wine all over you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOnly if you tell yours that I fell asleep at the table.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDeal.\u201d<\/p>\n It was only when Ferris got home that he realized the time. He also realized, after noticing the glow of lights and the sound of the television, that Demos had kept a spare key.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat took you so long?\u201d the Italian asked as Ferris closed the door behind him. He was immediately greeted by the clicking and panting of Stanley, who hopped circles around his ankles as he removed his shoes. Ferris had gone through an arduous custody battle with his mother over the pug, eventually winning him over in spite of his guilt. Now, as he looked down at the rolls of fat and lolling pink tongue, he wondered if it was actually worth the effort.<\/p>\n \u201cSorry, I lost track of time,\u201d Ferris replied, moving to join Demos on the sofa. It seemed his friend had already gotten started on the ice cream.<\/p>\n \u201cYeah?\u201d Demos said, tapping the clean end of the spoon against his lips. \u201cHow did it go?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cReally well, actually.\u201d<\/p>\n The room was silent for a moment. Though the television had been muted, it continued to cast a flickering glow on the side of Demos\u2019 face. His expression was blank, impossible to read in the dim light of the room. A clench of fingers on his pint, however, betrayed his surprise.<\/p>\n \u201cOh?\u201d he finally said.<\/p>\n \u201cYeah,\u201d Ferris replied, allowing Stanley into his lap. \u201cShe was smart\u2026 really<\/i> smart. It was so easy to talk to her and, well\u2026 I think I\u2019m going to see her again. Maybe next week.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh,\u201d Demos repeated, this time more weakly.<\/p>\n \u201cYou okay?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah,\u201d Demos replied, hurrying to rearrange his features. He smiled. \u201cThat\u2019s great. It\u2019s nice seeing you happy for once. Ah, you are<\/i> happy, right?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOf course.\u201d<\/p>\n Demos\u2019 eyes softened, watching Ferris for as long as he could bear. He could see it in Ferris\u2019 expression \u2014 that familiar spark, the one that came forth when he read a great book or learned a new song \u2014 that look of happiness that was normally so terribly rare.<\/p>\n Slowly, Demos glanced back at the television.<\/p>\n \u201cThen so am I.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" In only a couple of deliveries, Ferris\u2019 apartment was nearly complete. He still wasn\u2019t quite sure how he\u2019d coerced Demos into helping him build five bookcases and a dining set. Demos was infamous for avoiding nearly every form of manual labor and had blatantly labeled his choices as \u2018plebeian furnishings.\u2019 Even so, he had folded […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-246","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fishbones-book-02"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p4oWx8-3Y","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/246","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=246"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/246\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":587,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/246\/revisions\/587"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=246"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=246"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=246"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}