11. Loren

11

LOREN

I can't quite see into the café where Oakley's disappeared. Three or four days a week, he stops in on the way to school. Before he knew Daniel was dead, he'd stopped going inside. I'm not entirely surprised, since that's where they met.

The news updates on Daniel's murder have been less and less. The more of his truth that they uncover, the less the public outcry is for his murder to be solved. I'd wanted to anonymously provide all the information we had on him, but Myro refused to allow it. He didn't want any tie between our family and Daniel.

It's not that I don't understand the danger in that, but I want the world to know I murdered him justly. You know, leaving out the fact that I was doing it because he became a danger to Oakley, and I was obsessed from afar.

My sense of right and wrong might be skewed, but I'm confident the world wouldn't be upset if they learned the full truth behind the man who was Daniel Rollins-Alabaster.

I sip my travel coffee cup that has water in it. Coffee is disgusting. Call it blasphemy if you want, but ew! However, as I sit on the bench across the street watching both doors to the café, I need to blend in as much as possible. Sitting on the bench at the bus stop seems like a fair enough reason to be hanging around.

Oakley's seen me now. While I wasn't exactly trying to be unseen entirely, I was trying to keep off their radar a bit. It makes studying Oakley easier if he and his roommates don't know I'm here. I blew it the night the police found Daniel and they showed up at Oakley's house for questioning. He'd seen me. Our eyes had locked, even from the distance that separated us.

It's become more difficult to convince myself that I need to leave, even though I know I do. What am I going to do with this guy? It's just ridiculous.

Oakley steps out the front door of the café, but I stay seated until he moves further down the road to the corner and crosses the street as he continues to the school. Once he's across, I get up and follow, remaining on the opposite side of the street.

He's easy to keep in sight because of his ridiculously bright backpack. It seems so out of place with him. He doesn't wear bright colors. Not even his shoes or the ties in his hair. Yet his backpack could be seen from an airplane at 30,000 feet!

I follow him to campus and plant myself on the bench across the grass outside the building he has class in. I'm aware there are many other exits, but since I've been following him, I've noted that Oakley uses the front doors most often.

This is the moment I try to convince myself to leave. Daniel is dead. He's safe. I have no business being here. None at all. I can leave.

I. Can. Leave.

My ass remains firmly planted on this bench as I take another sip of water. Rubbing my hand over my face, I sigh in frustration at myself. This doesn't happen often but… I need help.

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I dial Noah. It's almost nine, so I'm confident he's awake. Whether he has hockey this morning, I'm not sure. We were roommates for a year in college. He's the only person outside of my family that wasn't immediately put off by me. I'm sure I still made him uneasy, but he didn't react like I had the plague. He wasn't immediately afraid or kept his distance.

We became friends.

I was disappointed when he got drafted to the NHL. Well, disappointed for me. It's what he wanted to do, so I was happy for my friend. That's how normal people feel, right? Happy for their friends? Considering he's likely my only friend, I make it a point to be happy for him.

"Hey," he answers.

"Hi," I say, glancing at the building in front of me. There are still stragglers rushing inside, nearly late for the start of class. "Are you busy?"

"Nope. What's up?"

"Hockey's good?" I ask.

He chuckles. "Hockey's good. Lix is good. I'm good. Are you?"

I chew the inside of my lip. "I need some help," I say. "Maybe some advice, actually."

"Okay. I'll see what I can do."

"There's this guy," I start and pause. What exactly am I supposed to say to explain this? With a frustrated sigh, I back up and tell Noah about Daniel and how I found Oakley and then how I killed Daniel. I confess… a lot. Definitely enough to get me in trouble. "Now I know I need to leave, but I can't. My job's done and I should go home, but… I'm here."

I look up at the building again. I'm not sure which classroom he's in. Not that I couldn't easily figure it out. But so far, I've been able to convince myself that I don't need to be that creepy. I got rid of one stalker and replaced him with myself.

"Where is ‘here'?"

Pressing my lips together, I try to find anything that's the truth without being the truth. In the end, I just tell him. "Outside the building he's attending class in."

"Loren," he says, laughing. "You're going to get in trouble."

I sigh. "I know. Tell me I need to stop this. I'm being ridiculous, right?"

"Sounds to me like you've fallen in love at first sight," he tells me instead, and I can hear the smile in his voice. "It's very romantic."

I recall a conversation we had last year about being judged on things that we can't change about ourselves. He asked me if I wanted to be with someone and I'd said maybe. We talked about if there was someone in the world who would love me as I am even though my own mother couldn't.

I've thought about it a lot—whether someone would want to be with me knowing that I don't like to be touched often. That I can be cold and unsettling. My emotional range is very small. Not because I'm immature, but because of how I'm built. How I was born.

Will they still want me when I tell them I'm a sociopath? Or will they run the other way?

"You okay?" Noah asks when I don't answer.

"I'm not sure you remember that I'm not able to love," I answer.

He chuckles. "I think you are refusing to remember that I told you love means something different for everyone. For you, I've always called the manifestation of your love loyalty. But maybe it's broader than that. I think you're capable of more than you're allowing yourself to believe."

"Yes, I've expanded from loyalty to obsession," I deadpan. Noah bursts out laughing. I can't help the smile that makes my lips curl, even though I try not to.

"I'm going to ask you this again, Loren. Do you want to be with someone? With this guy?"

My gaze flickers back to the building. A shiver runs through my body but the truth is… I don't know what I want. I want to possess him. To own him. Keep him close and safe and… mine. I'm not sure that's the same as wanting to be with someone.

"I don't know," I admit, feeling frustrated all over again. I let my head fall back and close my eyes. "Maybe."

"Are you lonely?"

I frown. "What?"

He chuckles. "You once told me you might want to be with someone one day because you could get lonely and bored, and you do bad things when you're bored."

I do bad things even when I'm not bored. The good and bad of it is usually dictated by those who have a distorted view of the world and human life. Not all life is precious and valuable. Not all people deserve to live and die ‘as God intended.'

Rapists, traffickers, abusers… their lives are not as valuable as their victims. And that's coming from someone who doesn't often agree with what others perceive as right and wrong.

"This isn't the same thing," I say. "I'm not lonely. I'm not looking for a girlfriend." Then pause and reconsider. "Or a boyfriend, apparently."

Noah chuckles.

"I'm not even bored."

"But you saw him and instantly fell in love with him," Noah retorts. I can tell he's enjoying this, and I kind of appreciate his teasing.

"No. I became instantly obsessed with him."

He sighs. "Loren, we've already established more than once—including in this conversation—that love means different things. I've defined it by loyalty. But love can have more definitions. Obsession can be one of them. There are some parallels between your obsession and my love for Lix."

"Oh, yeah?" I ask, skeptically.

"Absolutely. I think about him constantly. Especially when we're not together. Sometimes it's truly inconvenient, like when I'm on the ice and some random Lix thought intrudes on my concentration. If you look up the definition of ‘obsessed,' I promise you, it sounds quite familiar to what I just described. And I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that it's close to what you're experiencing with your neighbor now, isn't it?"

It shouldn't make me feel better. I've never put much stock in being viewed as ‘normal.' In fact, I have absolutely zero desire to be like everyone else. Who would want that—to be one of many? I'd rather be one of the few, superior to what the world views as normal .

So I let Noah's explanation settle me a little. He's not wrong. How he thinks about Lix sounds a lot like how I think about Oakley.

"Two more questions," I continue. "Do you think he's going to be put off by my antisocial disorder?"

"Considering you haven't spoken to him at all and therefore we have absolutely zero to speculate on, I can't really give you my opinion on that. But if he's a good person, if he's the person for you, then I don't think he'll be put off by it. Just… don't mistake his fear or unease for disliking you. Okay?"

I nod. "Yeah. Okay."

"Your second question?"

People begin walking out of the building in front of me. A glance at my watch says it's time for classes to dismiss, so I watch the students stream out of the doors. It's not long before Oakley is in sight, and I watch him from a distance.

"What should I do?" I ask.

"I know you can answer that question without my help." He prompts, "What should you do, Loren?"

"You're going to tell me to talk to him, aren't you?" I ask.

He chuckles. "Yes."

I get up once I nearly lose sight of Oakley. By the time I blend into the crowd and spot his highlighter aesthetic backpack, he's been joined by Levis Li.

"How do I talk to a guy?" I ask.

"I'm offended that you consider me something else," he teases.

I'm sidetracked by his words for a minute. "Sorry. I mean, how do I talk to a guy I'm… maybe interested in? I just realized how weird this is."

Noah laughs. "It's not weird. Liking a guy is completely normal. Just as normal as liking a girl."

"I'm not sure that's true when you've only ever been attracted to women in the past. For me, this is weird."

"No, it's just new," he insists. "And I'll say it again, it's not any different."

"I think you're forgetting who you're talking to," I say. "My version of talking to anyone outside of my family and you is with a—" I cut myself off just before saying ‘a knife at their throats before I assist them in bleeding out.' I'm quite literally surrounded by people that would be alarmed with that. "It's not, uh, pretty. Generally speaking, my only goal when talking to a woman is how to get them in bed."

"Such a slut," he mutters. I can hear his amusement, so I just shrug, not denying it. I also don't bring up that I haven't slutted since spotting Oakley. Maybe it's my turn to move into my second virginity. "Okay, then try this. Talk to him like you talked to me the first time."

Generally speaking, I remember most things that happen in my life. Do I remember the day I met Noah Kain? Shy, pretty, reserved, maybe even a little mousy. I followed him to hockey one afternoon and the man on the ice was so different from the frightened and exhausted teenager I shared a room with. I'd wanted to know the man on the ice. The person Noah was innately. Not the mask he wears in the world.

"Yeah, okay."

Oakley steps inside a building for his next class, and I continue walking. There's no bench right outside this one, so I tend to try to time my meandering around campus right for this period.

"I have to head to weight training," Noah says. "I'll call you after and we can continue this conversation. Okay?"

"Yep. Thanks."

"Sure. I'm looking forward to meeting your man."

I roll my eyes. "He's not my man." Ohhh… If there was ever a lie I spoke out loud…

Noah laughs. "Sure, Loren. Keep telling yourself that."

We hang up and I turn around to head back toward the building Oakley went into. Usually, I spend my time circling. Examining the building and those around it. Seeing what there is to see and learn.

When I turn around, I come face to face with Levis, and have to stop abruptly so I don't run into him. He's standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, staring at me with a very unimpressed expression.

"Is it a coincidence that I see you everywhere?" he asks.

"Yes," I say. "I suppose that happens when we're neighbors and frequent the same places."

The key to telling half-truths is the half-truths . There needs to be some truth in what you say and if you can keep it vague enough so that it's all, technically speaking, a truth, then there's no lie to detect. As with now. What I said was an absolute truth. It just didn't answer what he was asking without asking.

"Where are you headed, Van Doren?" he asks.

Maybe I should be surprised that he knows who I am. Well, relatively speaking, I suppose. He didn't say my first name. From what I've learned about him via my observation and research, I'm not really surprised at all. In fact, I'm very sure he knows exactly which Van Doren I am.

I suppose this means we're not going to pretend to be clueless concerning identities right now and I can address him by name, too. "I'm getting exercise so nowhere in particular. Where are you headed, Li?"

I don't miss the way he tries to fight the amused smile as he stares at me.

"Nowhere in particular since I don't have class until one. I have a feeling you know that, though."

Does he think I'm following him? Have I been caught and yet misunderstood? Should I tell him I do know that he has a class at one and where it's located? That would only further confirm what he suspects, even though it's not the truth. Just a happenstance, a coincidence.

When I don't answer, Levis drops his hands into his pockets. "Let's walk this way. You're Loren, right?"

I glance back at the building Oakley's in before turning and falling into stride beside Levis. "Yes. You're Levis, right?"

He chuckles. "Are you going to turn every question back on me?"

"There's a possibility that I will."

"Good to know. What're you doing here, Loren? Don't ask me what I'm doing here because we both know that you know the answer to that question."

I decide on another half-truth. "It's a beautiful campus to walk around. Safe. Peaceful. Many paths to choose from and avoid muscle memory when I walk around."

"So you're not a student here." It's not a question.

"I've talked to enrollment," I say, shrugging. "But I don't know what course of study I'm interested in, and it seems like a waste of time and money to enroll just for the sake of enrolling." That is entirely true. I just left out the fact I was trying to find a way to enroll in Oakley's classes next semester.

He snorts. "Yeah, I get that. My friend faces the same issue—not knowing what he's truly interested in."

"How does he choose his classes?"

Levis shakes his head. "Based on interest, I guess. He keeps hoping that he'll stumble upon something that truly ignites some passion so he can find his direction."

I nod. Though I'm not sure which of his friends he's talking about, I understand that sentiment. I graduated with a medical biology degree two years ago and fuck knows whether I'm ever going to use it.

"I don't suppose that's a very cost-effective way to attend college."

He laughs. "His family has some money and they've encouraged him to follow his dreams, even if it takes him a while to realize them."

Okay, he's either talking about Oakley or Albrecht. Both of their families have some money. I appreciate this conversation narrowing down.

Now… how can I steer it to talking about Oakley…?