From youth to adulthood, life stood pillared by one's brand of repetitive decision-making. Shower in the morning or at night. Eat or drink. Drive or walk. Pay attention or don't. Care or hate. Laugh or cry. Foster friendship or neglect it. Where you choose one, the other always lays in wait. Arguments occurred or were bypassed through yet another series of choices, and so on. This was the exhaustive cycle of human interaction. 

I was tired of it. Overall and right now. We'd been at the pub two streets away from our university for the better part of three hours. Everyone but me was drunk and in various states of degeneration. Some writhed to the music, others sat around us, laughing and chatting so loud it bounced off the walls of the private room. I thanked Merlin for pushing the group into booking one knowing the potential outcome.

In contrast to the utter chaos around us, Uri had his whole body against my side, head pillowed on my shoulder as he snoozed with his mouth open. I tried not to imagine the drool pooling on my jacket. It was hard to curse his name for bringing me here when he looked so peaceful. Plus, he was effectively doing his job as my buffer. 

The women of the group were disappointed when I yanked my best friend down beside me where I sat against the wall. It was a calculated move. They were vultures circling me every time I came out to a class party. Thankfully, I avoided most invitations with excuses of work or exercise regime. Both were true so it wasn't a big deal. Tonight I was free and naively asked Uri to hang out. Lo and behold, it led me to this disappointing situation. I sighed, readjusting his head to make certain he wouldn't wake with any stiffness. 

A redhead from our department slammed her empty beer mug down and leaned across the table, squinting at us with a frown. Her emerald eyes were red and watery behind a set of paisley-printed glasses. 

"You two are awfully close," she slurred. 

As if those words were a sin, the entire room fell silent save for the steady beat of music pounding away. I blinked at them and tilted my head to the side. Brown hair slipped into my vision, messy from Uri's hand ruffling it whenever he laughed. 

"Of course we are. We've known one another since we were young." 

"Where are you from, again?"

A woman I'd met before during various courses asked the question. I knew that for sure, but her name was one of those unimportant details that slipped my consciousness. Those included acquaintances, scheduled events, and anything outside of my general sphere of view. I knew that shortcoming about myself, therefore I'd grown accustomed to relying on Uri. 

Plus, her question had a complicated answer. I didn't know what to say. Yes, the two of us moved here from Illinois, but my birthplace lay much further away. A fact even Uri wasn't yet aware of, let alone total strangers. The time wasn't right but honesty was something I prided myself in, so I hated putting myself into situations where I'd have to lie. I blew out a long, slow breath, chin tucking toward my chest. 

In my silent panic, I jostled Uri too much. He groaned, both hands pushing against my thigh as he sat up with a lazy blink. His eyes were the color of copper, drawing in the attention of anyone speaking to him, let alone his low voice which commanded respect. 

"What's the deal, Alice? I take a nap for ten minutes and you're drilling him. We're from Chicago, the suburbs. We came to Michigan for Q's scholarship and our active research grant. How many times have I told you that? You just wanted to hear it from him, didn't you?" 

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

Everyone froze, especially the girls. 

"Of course not!" Alice yelped, pale cheeks turning beet red. "I'm trying to get to know him. He's never at any of our events!" 

"Well, life gets pretty busy when you're working around the clock to make interdimensional travel a reality." 

"I know that Uri, geez! We're all from the same department. Why do you have to be so protective of him all the time? What, are you his handler?" 

"We're best friends."

 "That doesn't give you the right to hide him from everyone else!" 

"Hide him? Q is socially awkward—has been his whole damn life! I help him out when he needs it and keep girls like you away so he can focus on research."

"Did he ask you to do that?" 

"He didn't have to!" 

Uri and Alice inched closer and closer across the table, glaring so hard sparks flew. No one moved to stop them, eyes wide with excitement over the pending argument. The amount of gossip passed around by humans had always left a sour taste in the back of my throat. Where was honesty or kindness? They only existed within the cracks of skin or between blinks. Look away for a moment and it'd be gone. Scowling, I grabbed Uri and tugged before things could grow beyond my control. He plopped down beside me without resistance but crossed his arms. 

"Most of my processing power goes toward theoretical ideas, I'm afraid," I joked, trying to cow Alice's pending tears. They wavered against her blonde lashes, matching the wild curls around her head. "He does help me. So often, sometimes, that I wonder if I'm the one taking advantage." 

Alice smiled, ocean eyes crinkling at the corners. "You're so kind, Quinlan. I've never met a man like you before." 

"That's 'cuz there aren't any," Benson cut in. "Dude's a freakin' genius."

"True," his brother, Tyler, laughed, knocking their shoulders together. "We don't even play pranks on him anymore, it makes us feel bad for interrupting." 

The twins sat a few couches away, swaying to the beat of the music while watching the tipsy girls giggle and twirl. Out of everyone in our department, Uri and I worked most closely with them. They tested our sample theories against proven science to check for outliers in ideals, documenting them for later interpretation. The pranks in question involved swapping one brother out for the other during a task or class. It was easy for them because they were identical. 

Neither would tell a soul the real reason they stopped playing pranks on me. I could split them apart no matter what they did. When I remembered someone, it was for a specific reason. Sitting in my brain like a file card to be flipped through. Benson had his grant work that closely aligned with ours focusing on galactic travel, and Tyler often spoke with me on what he found interesting in our most recently published studies. They were useful for soul-specific reasons, and the cadence of their voices was different when filled with passion. Who could mistake that? 

The redhead hiccuped. "No matter how many times you say it out loud, it still sounds impossible that other dimensions exist, let alone traveling to them."

The rest around the table agreed with firm nods, but Alice rushed to clarify. "Not that we doubt your intelligence, Quinlan. The higher-ups believe in your abilities." 

"I take no offense," I promised her with a bow of the head. 

"That's great! Would you like to tell me more about your research over lunch next week?" 

My brows furrowed at the forward offer. "I'm not sure. Can I get back to you?" 

"No problem. Can I have your number?" 

"… I suppose so, give me your phone." 

People around us watched with shocked expressions as the blonde handed it over. I noticed her fingers were shaking, so I stilled them out of politeness, shooting her a smile. The flush of alcohol deepened, rising over Alice's ears as she glanced away. It took no time at all to type my contact information in. I could ask Uri what the best wording would be for a polite rejection. This was the perfect plan for letting her down easily. 

The party went back to normal. I ruminated, not noticing the fidgeting of my conduit until he exploded upright from his seat. I looked at Uri in shock, opening my mouth to speak when his fingers latched onto my elbow. Our eyes locked, and for the briefest moment, I swore I saw some level of anger. My mouth snapped shut.

Had I done something wrong by giving out my number to a fellow department leader? Not a soul in this room had anything less than a brilliant brain. Alice was worthwhile in some respects. Even if her true intentions turned out to be less than noble, I didn't have any desire to act on them. Surely he knew that…

"Uri?" 

"My head is killing me. Let's go." 

"Oh, okay."