2065 - The Academy
“Keep your eyes shut,” Victor said, “and follow me.”
David nodded. Keeping his eyes closed wasn’t hard, as he was wearing a crudely fashioned blindfold, but he wasn’t entirely sure where they were at the moment, or why he’d been brought here. He simply knew they’d walked a long way—far beyond the dormitory halls—into regions of the Academy he’d rarely ventured before.
“Be careful,” Victor said. “There’s stairs in front of you.”
David reached forward with his foot, and sure enough, his boot met an obstacle. He took a moment to gain his bearings, then began the climb with Victor holding his arm in a steady grip.
It was a spiral staircase, he quickly realized, and they ascended for what felt like forever, although it was probably no more than thirty steps.
“We’re almost there,” Victor said. “It’ll be worth it, I promise.”
Normally cadets wouldn’t be permitted to wander, but this was a holiday, and most students had gone home. Only a few remained during the break, and both David and Victor had elected to do so. They’d spent the week on campus, passing their time studying and getting to know the small group of classmates who’d stayed along with them.
Captain Bartlett remained too, ostensibly to focus on his studies, but David would’ve expected nothing less. So had Weasel, although he’d declined to give a reason; he simply seemed sullen and withdrawn.
The climb was long, and David suspected that wherever they were going was off-limits—a thought which was all but confirmed when they reached a small landing, and he heard Victor struggling with what sounded like a locked door.
“No peeking,” he said. “We’re getting close.”
Finally, he heard the sound of the door opening, and Victor took his arm and ushered him forward.
“You can look now,” he said.
David removed the blindfold and gasped in surprise.
They were inside the observatory—a corner of the science wing dedicated purely to astronomy. That explained the long walk—it was located on the far side of the building, nearly hidden on the topmost floor.
David stared at the dome-shaped roof above them with its faceted glass and its pristine view of the stars. They weren’t the first to have come here after hours, he guessed—worn graffiti decorating the corners told tales of other cadets, most of whom were probably long-graduated, venturing to this place years before Victor discovered it.
As his eyes drifted downward, he saw that a large blanket had been laid out in the center of the floor, surrounded by lit candles which had been placed throughout the room, lending this space a welcoming aura. It had been staged to look like a picnic, with simple place settings and pillows on each side, and there, in the middle, was a square, lumpy concoction vaguely resembling a cake.
“I noticed something,” Victor said as David took it all in. “I was browsing your file one day while we were doing homework, and I saw that our birthdays are about a week apart. I’m sure you realized that long before I did, though, being the way you are.”
David shrugged, and he couldn’t help but blush. He hadn’t noticed, but felt he should’ve.
Victor smiled ever so slightly. “We missed the opportunity to celebrate back then, but I thought now was as good a time as any, so I made this for you.”
David simply stood there, surveying the room before him. Victor studied his face, and he must’ve seen the way he was looking at the cake, because his eyes darted toward it too. “I did my best,” he said quickly. “I saved several days’ worth of desserts from the mess hall, and I stole some icing from the galley.”
“It’s perfect.” David smiled.
Victor seemed relieved. He let out a tense breath and placed a hand on David’s lower back—a gesture David interpreted as an invitation to sit down.
He took a place on the blanket, settling into a half-laying pose as he positioned one of the pillows beneath him while Victor sat across from him, cross-legged, and held out a fork.
“You do the honors,” he said, gesturing toward the cake.
David took the fork from his outstretched hand, and as Victor looked on, he sliced into one side.
“Chocolate,” he said.
Victor nodded. “I wasn’t sure which you liked more—chocolate or vanilla—so I took some of each.”
“I’ll have to try both,” David said.
“You say that as if you haven’t endured months of the mess hall’s... offerings,” Victor replied with a grin.
“This is different,” David said as he took a small bite. The icing was hard and the brownies beneath tasted stale, but he smiled all the same. “Thank you, and happy belated birthday.”
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“Same to you,” Victor replied.
They sat in silence for a while as the candlelight flickered gently across their faces. The cake was far from elegant, but they devoured it nonetheless, and when it was gone, Victor pushed the empty plate aside and lay down in a manner similar to David.
There was nothing between them now, and they stared at each other across that narrow gulf, the patterns on the blanket tracing a path connecting them.
David wondered what Victor might do. He initially thought he might try to touch him—that was often where these encounters led, even in far less intimate circumstances, and Victor rarely held back. Tonight, though, he almost seemed nervous.
Finally, Victor took a deep breath and looked away. “I’d have brought some wine, but I figured you didn’t want any more of Howard’s alcohol stash.”
“No,” David said abruptly.
“I can’t believe he let us go that night,” Victor mused. “I thought for sure we’d be expelled.” There was another pause, then he shrugged. “I assumed he’d be more of a hard-ass. Turns out he’s just a grumpy old man who doesn’t want to deal with any of us.”
He looked down, and David watched as his fingers traced that pattern, drawing ever closer.
“I’m glad, though,” Victor glanced back up. “I’d hate for our time together to be cut short like that.”
David returned a soft smile, and Victor continued. “That’s part of why I did this. It’s not just to celebrate our birthdays—I’d like to get to know you in a close, comfortable environment where we can speak freely, without the risk of being overheard.”
“You know almost everything about me, though,” David said.
Victor shot him a look. “Hardly. Even if that was true, though, what about the opposite? How much would you say you know about me?”
David studied his face. “Not much, I guess,” he said quietly.
Victor nodded. After a long pause, he took a deep breath, and for once, his voice wavered. “There’s something you should be aware of,” he said. “I’ve never been in a serious relationship.”
David frowned. “How? You’ve had so many...”
“Yes, and most only lasted a few days. I don’t like to get serious, because then it just hurts more when they say goodbye.” He looked away. “And they always say goodbye.”
David was silent at this.
“I consider you to be my first—the first real one, anyway,” Victor continued. “I’m willing to take that risk with you.”
David smiled again, and this time, he was the one to initiate contact. He reached forward and traced an invisible line across Victor’s chest, then moved up and ran his fingers through that curly brown hair he loved so much.
Victor closed his eyes, and there was another long period of silence.
“Go ahead, then,” he finally said. “Ask me something—anything you’d like to know.”
David withdrew his hand and thought for a second. “I’m not even sure where to start.”
“Start with something small, then.”
“Fine.” David shrugged. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“No.” Victor’s smile disappeared. “I’m an only child, and if my parents had gotten their way, they wouldn’t have had any at all.” He sighed. “They didn’t want me.”
“I’m sure that’s not—” David began.
“It is,” Victor interrupted. “They never wanted to become parents. I was a mistake, and they spent the rest of their lives regretting it. They’ve told me so multiple times.”
He looked away, his face drawn into a tight frown, and David could see that there was no argument to be had. He simply nodded, and after a while, Victor studied him closely once more.
“What about you?” he asked.
“I’ve got a twin sister,” David said. “We get along well enough, but...”
He trailed off.
“But not well enough to go see her during a holiday,” Victor replied. He held David’s gaze, waiting for an answer.
Instinct spoke tonight, whispering that if there was ever a time for honesty, it was now. This was the moment for all secrets to be laid bare.
“I never felt like I belonged there,” David said. “With my family, I mean. That’s why I’d rather spend my time here, improving my grades and building my career instead of wasting a week in that house, being uncomfortable and ignored the whole time, counting the seconds until I leave.”
“They don’t want you there?” Victor asked.
“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if I came back, but they don’t seem to mind when I stay away, either,” David said. He remained quiet for a while, then sighed. “My parents had a specific idea of how children should behave, and my sister just seemed to understand it. I tried too, of course, but nothing I did ever seemed good enough. They treated us like display pieces—something to be shown off and bragged about rather than interacted with. She knew how to play that role better than I did.” He looked down and traced the pattern on the blanket. “Outward appearances were always more important. Even their house is like that; there’s no personality to it. It’s pretty, but you can’t touch anything.”
“You come from one of those families,” Victor said, “just like every other rich brat here.”
A smirk played at his lips, and David detected a hint of disdain in his tone.
“They weren’t rich, but they pretended, anyway,” he replied. “They gave off the impression they were wealthy, but it was all a façade. They were deeply in debt. No matter how bad it got, though, we still went to nice restaurants and formal dinner parties, where I wore uncomfortable clothes and sat in uncomfortable chairs the whole time, and I wasn’t allowed to speak unless spoken to.” He drew a long breath. “That was my childhood. There were lots of unwritten rules, but God forbid we ever broke any of them.” He looked down at the blanket. “I think I spent more time at my friends’ houses than I did my own. I actually felt welcome there.”
Victor studied him closely. “I assume they wouldn’t approve if you brought me back to meet them.”
“Doubtful,” David said. “And yours wouldn’t either, I take it.”
Victor shrugged. “I never made a secret of who I was dating. They knew, but they never cared. Even if they had, though, I don’t think it would’ve been possible to disappoint them further. They gave up on me years ago.”
Their eyes met again, and David watched as the flickering candlelight traced the contours of his face. “It sounds like yours haven’t, though,” Victor continued. “They still have quite a few expectations, I’d imagine.”
David nodded. “They always assumed I’d do well in school, then settle down one day and get married. Start a family.” He shrugged. “I’m not necessarily opposed to any of that. I didn’t expect it to be like this, though. With someone like...”
He trailed off again.
“Someone like me,” Victor finished.
David didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t sure how Victor would interpret that statement, and he took a deep, nervous breath.
Victor sat up a bit, rested his weight on his elbow, and looked directly into David’s eyes. “You really want to get married?”
“Someday. Not when I’m eighteen, though.” He nodded toward Victor. “What about you?”
Victor shrugged. “I always thought the concept was ridiculous. I saw how miserable my parents were, and I wanted no part of it.” He looked down again. “I might be willing to entertain the idea, though, if I found the right person.”
David studied him carefully, but Victor avoided his eyes. Instead he shifted again, then rolled over and lay on his back, studying the glass roof and the shadowy candlelight dancing across its reflective panes.
David wondered what he was going to do, and sure enough, Victor reached out and placed a hand on his back. “Come here,” he said, motioning for him to join.
David followed his lead, lying down beside him.
Victor wrapped his arm around David’s shoulder, then leaned over and extinguished one of the nearby candles, plunging them into a state of semi-darkness that illuminated the stars above.