Work Text:
Malcolm watched the dark-haired young woman moving through their instructor’s yoga flow. Her form was nearly as good as the instructor’s and he felt sure he knew her. They had class together. She held the forearm scorpion pose effortlessly. He struggled with it, the small of his back wondering just what in the world he was doing to it.
They flowed back into downward facing dog, up into the crow pose and then finally into the corpse position to relax. Afterward, mopping sweat off his neck with a towel, he went to introduce himself. This was always awkward after all he’d been through with his father. He’d regained his voice after all the damage the Surgeon had inflicted on his vocal cords but still it sounded rough and raspy, and he couldn’t talk as long as he wanted to. He had his laptop in his messenger bag to facilitate things.
“Hi, I’m Malcolm. I think we have class together.” Yep, raspy as if he’d been chain smoking and stealing Gil’s bourbon.
She nodded, not seeming to notice the timbre of his voice. “Abnormal psych class and psychopaths and psychopathy. You are really good at answering the professors questions. I’m Aurelia.”
Malcolm tried not to wince. He broke the curve in both classes but so far no one really knew why. He planned to keep it that way. He wanted to change his name but Mother had thrown a fit when he brought it up. Now he needed to let the topic die down and do it quietly without her knowing until after the fact. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same. Would you like to go for a cup of coffee after this? I’d love to pick your brain.” She grinned.
Malcolm blinked. People still didn’t ask him out, even not knowing who he was. Boarding school had taught him how to stay within his shell and people sensed that. Harvard was slowly coaxing himself out of it. He nodded. “Yes.”
They went to the gym’s locker rooms, changed into something less sweat-soaked and went to one of the many coffee shops that dotted the Cambridge landscape. Malcolm let Aurelia pick. Boarding school had left him ill-prepared for dating life. So many of the boys at his school were set up on dates by their parents, priming them for marrying only the best sort that their families approved of. Gil had taken him aside and explained a few things about being a man – not the sex talk, though yes Mother had corralled poor Gil into that too – but rather he spoke on how to treat a lady. Letting her choose some of the things they did was close to the top of the list of things to do right.
His huge cappuccino in hand, he sat at the window table and took out his computer. “Do you mind if I use this if my voice gets tired?”
“Ah, someone said you sign or use text to speech,” she said, sipping a mocha. She had pretty hazel eyes, warm and inviting. “I suppose that makes sense all things considered.”
“How so?” he asked, dreading the answer. He tugged his long hair over his neck even though his turtleneck hid the scars on his throat from his father’s scalpel.
“I know who you are and who your father is.” Aurelia put up a hand. “But that’s not why I asked you here, and that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. You said some interesting things about the female psychopath in class on Monday, and I wanted to discuss that.”
Malcolm beamed. She didn’t care he was Martin Whitly’s son! Had that ever happened outside of Vijay? No, it had not! She wanted to actually talk to him for his insights and not about the man who’d ruined his life. He’d stay in this coffee house all day for that. “I’d love that.”
“And yes, if your throat hurts, use your computer.”
Malcolm didn’t use it at first. He was supposed to use his voice as much as he felt comfortable doing. He talked about his theories and Aurelia added her own thoughts. He ended up going to the text to speech as they really got into the nitty gritty of the psychopathy, talking fast and long. By the end he started to feel he had put some thoughts about his father in order in his head. He hadn’t seen the man since he tried to kill him but he still had this need to understand him.
Aurelia went back to the counter insisting she get to treat him to another coffee and a piece of pie for them to share. He’d never had butterscotch chess pie before and was eager to try it. Jackie baked the best pies but she’d never made that. He rubbed his throat while she was doing that. He wanted to talk more even if he might regret it later. Aurelia was better than any of the girls his mother had set him up with – many of whom he ditched before the night was over at whatever function they were at because they had nothing in common. Many of them had zero intellectual curiosity. He could care less about fashion and what the monied set was into at the moment. Aurelia was every bit as quick witted and inquisitive as he was.
She sat the drinks down and went back for the pie, refusing his offer of help. “Now, I’m done with school talk for the day. I know you’re from Manhattan. I’m from Pittsburgh by the way and anyhow, I want to know more about you.”
He pointed to his sternum, raising his eyebrows.
“Yes you.” Aurelia smiled. “You’re smart and cute and have an interesting story that anyone could know with a few minutes of searching on the internet. I want to know what I can’t find there.”
He ducked his head shyly, letting his hair hide his face and neck. “Thank you.”
Aurelia pushed a fork to him. “Try the pie and tell me something about you.”
“Like what?” he asked, ignoring the twinge in his throat.
For a moment, her eyes widened as if she hadn’t planned quite this far ahead and was as lost as he was with social interactions. “I don’t know. What’s your favorite reading genre? Your favorite flavor of ice cream something like that.”
“Science fiction,” he replied. It had been the classics but now he couldn’t separate them out from his father recreating them, doing the voices and how much he had loved that and how betrayed he felt. Besides most people his age didn’t care for the classics, finding them old. He’d learned that long ago. “Vanilla.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Nope, you can’t pick vanilla. That’s boring. You have to like something besides that.”
Mother hadn’t liked him eating ice cream and junk food. He had to sneak that in at Gil’s. Malcolm grinned at the memory of his first banana split and the belly ache that had gone with it. “Black raspberry.”
“Now there’s a flavor. I like peanut butter and chocolate, and we like the same reading genre though I like mysteries a lot too. Do you dance?”
He brightened with the realization that this had become a date, and they had strayed into his favorite territory. “I love to dance. I’ve trained for years.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, you mean actual dance like ballet or something? I mean club dancing.”
He grinned wickedly. “I can do both.” That was true but he had very little actual experience with clubs.
“Excellent. Taste your pie.” She pointed to it with her own fork.
He obeyed. The crust wasn’t as good as Jackie’s but the thick custardy sweetness of the butterscotch danced on his tongue. He took another forkful immediately. He’d have to ask Jackie to try this with her amazing crusts. “Wonderful, thank you.” He sipped the coffee. The warmth always helped his throat.
“You’re welcome. So, What activity instantly calms you?”
He raised his eyebrows. “That’s a different question.”
Aurelia shrugged and favored him with a lopsided smile. “I want to know how you play and how you relax. Me, I write for fun and yoga and classical music for calming down.”
Malcolm’s pulse did a little dance of its own. “I played squash and polo but I don’t think they were ever me. I did those mostly because my friend, Vijay, was involved. My fun is collecting weapons. I even learned how to throw axes.”
Aurelia clapped her hands together. “You’ll be perfect to drag to the Renn faire.”
Heat crept up Malcolm’s cheeks. She wanted to take him out! “I’ve never done it.”
“I have a suspicion you’ll love it.”
“I’m game. To calm down, yoga for sure, meditation but honestly it’s dance. I do love ballet. I can get lost in the music and the movement. It calms me right down.”
“One day you’ll have to dance for me.”
There was no mistaking the look she shot him, like a lightening bolt heading directly south. “I think I can arrange that.”
He had never paid much attention to his classmates before this. Malcolm realized now that was a mistake. He’d become so accustomed to being shunned, he never considered how different Harvard could be until now. He didn’t know where this could go but he was excited to find out. The next time he Skyped Gil and Jackie or his mother he hoped to have a story to tell.