Chapter Six

The rest of the lesson continued at a grinding pace. The subject of the day was apparently history, though most of the students seemed more concerned with passing notes than taking them. Orina moved her deskchair slightly so that she could see around Elgin's slim body, and noticed how the students kept looking towards the desk before giggling with each other. Elgin's shoulders slumped more as the class dragged on and, by the time it ended, he looked utterly defeated. Orina leaned forward and patted him on the back after the last student had left.

"I am so sorry," he sighed. He took his glasses off and set them on the desk, then rubbed at his eyes. "So, so sorry."

"I don't get it," Orina said. "The little ones think you hung the moon and the big ones hate your guts."

Elgin shrugged.

"Seriously, it's insane and it makes no sense! What happens to them when they leave that makes them come back like that? All they do is crack jokes and make fun of you!"

"They don't all make fun of me," Elgin muttered. "Some do their work."

"I know that, and I know they make fun of me as well... but that still doesn't answer my question," Orina said.

Elgin turned his head towards the door that joined his and Lorca's classrooms. He sighed as he put his glasses back on. The pinch-faced Grimalkin was watching them through the door again, and she looked just as sour as ever.

"It's her, isn't it."

He nodded.

"Why?"

"Lorca hates humans... absolutely despises them. I don't know why. I try not to talk to her unless I have to."

"Okay, but what does that have to do with you?"

Elgin took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. "I'm a human sympathizer. Not only that... I'm Contaminated."

Orina frowned. "You're sick?"

"No, not that. It's not a disease. It just means that I'm considered unclean due to... ah... human contact."

"Oh... I must be making things worse for you, then, by being here."

Elgin gave a sharp, bitter laugh before sighing again. "No, trust me... you're not. It's like I tell the kids: you don't get Contaminated by hugs and handshakes, so it's okay to be friends with humans."

Orina's eyes widened. "Oh. So, by human contact... you mean...?"

"Yeah. That." He flinched when Orina touched his arm. "Her name was Isabel. I met her in the computer lab at Guardian University and... we just hit it off. Sparks. Hearts. Everything. We were both eighteen; she was starting her second semester and I only had two years left before graduation. Izzy was brilliant. I loved her so much and couldn't believe she loved me back. The whole world felt made for the two of us. We planned to get married after she graduated and start a family. You know... adopt some kids."

"What happened?"

"I had the genius idea to take her home to meet my parents, that's what happened. We had been spending breaks and holidays with her folks, but I figured that since we were almost engaged... she needed to meet my family. That way Izzy could see where I grew up and visit some of my favorite spots, too, like we did in Porre. I thought Medina would be the perfect place to propose to her."

"And?"

"It was terrible. The anti-human sentiment then wasn't as bad as it is now, but... it was still too much for Izzy. She refused to leave the house after we got there and, after she met my parents, she'd only leave my room if she absolutely had to. They were so disappointed in me... Dad yelled. Mom cried. I cried, too, quite honestly. We left midway through the third day and I decided to hold off the proposal until she'd had time to recover from the experience. I thought we were going to spend the rest of the holiday in our apartment, but Izzy wanted to go home instead... alone. Everything changed when she came back."

"Oh... what happened?"

"Her parents were always nice enough to me when I was around, but they weren't happy that their daughter was dating a Mystic. Izzy even told me that after our first visit as a couple. They wanted grandkids -- real grandkids -- and... ah, you get how that wouldn't happen. Izzy said she was fine with adoption, but... when she came back, she told me that she had done some soul-searching and realized that it just wasn't going to work. She wanted to have her own biological children and she wanted to have them naturally with her own husband. She had to make it very, very clear because I begged her to reconsider... and I tried to bargain with her. I was an idiot."

"No, you weren't: you loved her."

"I did." Elgin sighed. "Anyway, we broke up. I graduated and returned to Medina, where I was lucky to secure this job before the administration got wind of my reputation. Izzy met someone else, graduated, got married... She still writes to me occasionally... She sends me cards with photos of her and her husband and their four kids -- and she tells me about their careers and their friends and their vacations... I used to write her back, too, but then I ran out of things to write about. I mean, there's only so much I can say about my work..." He paused. "And nearly every time she writes, she tells me that I need to meet someone and start a family of my own... like it's that easy. Like any woman in Medina wants anything to do with me."

"Oh, Elgin... I'm so sorry. I had no idea..." Orina murmured. She stood up and started towards him, but he slid off of the desk and hurried away to start pushing the tables back. So, she stood by the desk and watched him until the last table was pushed into place and all the stools were set beneath them. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, go ahead," Elgin said tightly.

"I thought you said that you didn't have any great loves or tragedies."

He shrugged. "I loved her, but it didn't work out. It wasn't Izzy's fault and it wasn't mine. It's not the sort of sweeping, tragic love story that they write about in books or turn into movies. And, going by what little you've told me, it's nothing like the love you and Decamerone had, either."

"But... it sounds to me like she ruined your life," Orina said softly. "I think that's tragic, even if you don't."

"Well, it's not like Izzy and I tripped and fell into bed together! We made our own choices and we're both living with the results."

"It's not fair, though!" she protested. "You didn't do anything wrong and... And it's like she's rubbing it all in your face! She got some stories to tell her friends, but you got shunned by practically your whole species! It's not fair! It's not fair at all!"

"Orina, I --" Elgin began, then paused. "I don't entirely disagree, but --"

"Do you have any pictures of her? I want to see what she looks like," Orina interrupted him.

"Um... maybe? I threw away her latest card, but I might have some in an album in the attic."

"What about the picture stuck in the desk drawer? Is that her?"

"What picture?" He tilted his head, then pushed his glasses up on his beak.

"There's a frame stuck in this drawer," Orina answered before she roughly pulled the desk drawer open. "It's way in the back. I found it yesterday when I... nevermind."

"Oh, that one. I'd forgotten all about that," Elgin said. He walked over and stuck his arm into the drawer, then tugged at the frame. Orina heard the cardboard stand for it tear away before he pulled it out and dusted it off. And she forced herself to stand still while he examined it. He handed it over to her with a sigh. "Yep, that's Izzy."

Orina glared at the picture. It showed a pudgy young woman with big brown eyes and a smirking smile, like she'd been caught thinking of something funny. Her pale green hair looked like it was probably curly when it wasn't skinned back into a tight bun. Both of her ears had multiple earrings and a tiny gold stud was visible on her right nostril. "Want to make her jealous?"

Elgin looked incredulous. "Orina?"

"I'm serious." Orina handed the framed photo back to Elgin, who looked at it briefly before dropping it into the trash can. "I've got an idea. Do you still have her address?"

"Yes, I do, but... why?" Elgin laughed nervously. "Orina, I want to know what you've got planned. From the way it's sounding so far... we're both going to end up on the news."

Orina snorted. "I'm not going to show up at her house, if that's what you're asking."

"Oh, good. I was starting to worry."

"I was just thinking you should write her a letter, that's all," she continued. "You could include some pictures of me lounging on the bed wearing your clothes and talk about how we're going to turn your study into the baby's room. You do have something you can take pictures with, right?"

Elgin stared at her, speechless for a few moments, then started to laugh. "You're joking," he finally said.

"I'm serious! Decamerone and I spent seven years presenting our relationship as an innocent friendship. I think you and I can achieve the reverse to Isabel with a few well-placed uses of 'we' and 'us' and some strategic mentions of the baby. You don't even have to lie to her!"

"Let's go home. I think you need some fresh air and we both need out of this classroom," Elgin said. He offered Orina his arm.

"We do," Orina agreed.

"...You definitely need some fresh air. Let's take the long way home."

Orina tapped at the remote, eyes narrowing as the channel changed to another commercial. Those seemed to be what populated the device the most and their novelty had wore off quicker than she could say "new and improved." She glanced in the direction of the kitchen and tried not to smile too smugly at the sounds of Elgin bumping around in the laundry room. He was obviously in search of something and, judging by his refusal to tell her, she had a very good idea of what it was. Still, she was surprised when he walked in carrying a shirt instead.

"Here," he said, and handed it to her.

Orina unfolded the shirt. It was a light, slightly iridescent blue and the fabric was softer than that of the one she currently wore. She looked back up at Elgin, who sat down next to her with a sigh.

"That's the nicest shirt I own... apparently it's designer, if that matters at all to you. Izzy got it for me and I decided it was too good to wear all the time, so I put it aside for special occasions," Elgin said and Orina noticed that he wasn't looking at her. "It's yours now. It matches your eyes."

Orina held it up to her chest. "Elgin, I can't --"

"Please," he interrupted her. "If you don't want to keep it, at least wear it once."

"I'll go try it on," she said, then got up and walked to the bedroom. She swiftly unbuttoned and removed the shirt she'd been wearing, then, carefully, put on the other. It was cut slimmer, fit closer, and, if it had been hers, she would have wished for more room in the bust and hips. Still, it did fit... and fit in a way that somewhat flattered her figure and, more importantly, made the baby's small presence obvious. She buttoned the cuffs and folded them over once, then smoothed her hands over her stomach. And, looking in the mirror, she realized that Elgin had been right: it really was nearly the same color as her eyes.

She jumped when she heard a cautious knock on the door.

"I was just getting ready to call you in," Orina said. She smiled at Elgin when he opened the door, then slowly turned once in a circle. "Well? What do you think?"

"I, ah --" Elgin began. He stammered for a few moments longer, then applauded.

Orina laughed. She started to do the same sort of theatrical bow he had, but stopped when she realized that it would also provide a view down the top of her borrowed shirt. Instead, she nodded towards the small, rectangular device he held. "Does that make pictures?"

"Oh, er, yes, it takes photos," Elgin said. He held up the device and tapped a button on it, causing a bright flash. Orina glared at him, blinking away the red afterimage, then watched as a small square of glossy paper slid out from the front of it. "This is what's called an instant camera. See?" He handed the paper to Orina, who watched as an image of her formed on its surface.

"There were similar devices in Zeal, but those required dark rooms and glass plates," Orina said as she set the so-called photo on the dresser. "Decamerone sat for one... and I put it in my locket..." She touched her fingers to the space between her collarbones with a sigh, then looked sadly at Elgin when he placed his hand on her arm.

"Would you like to try taking a photo?" he asked her. "I can't promise to be as good of subject as you or Decamerone, but I'll try my best."

Orina nodded. "Sure."

"Okay... you hold the camera like this -- careful! -- and there's the viewfinder," Elgin said as he helped her with the camera. The device was heavier than she expected it to be -- and somewhat unwieldy as a result -- but she could see the room through the little window on it. "What you see in that is what will be in the picture. Just tap that button once and ta-dah! Instant photo."

She took a step backwards with the camera and watched Elgin through the viewfinder. He stood slouched in front of the door with his hands in his pockets. Orina frowned at the sight. "I'm not going to drop it," she told him.

Elgin looked quizzically back at her. "I should hope not?"

"Stand up straight," Orina said. "I've never taken a photo before, so I'm going to want to keep this one."

"Oh... okay," Elgin said. "Is this better?"

"Perfect," she said, then tapped the button. She plucked the picture from the front of the camera and smiled as the image formed. The picture was askew and the camera's flash was reflected in his glasses, but it was still very clearly a picture of Elgin. He returned to her side to examine the photo as well.

"Yeah, that's me," he said and Orina handed the camera back to him. "You did well, despite that."

Orina rolled her eyes. "Thanks." She opened the top drawer of the dresser and set the photo inside before closing it, then looked back in the mirror and smoothed at her hair. Once she was satisfied with her appearance, she walked over to the bed and laid down on it. First she lay on her back, then rolled over onto her side, and finally scooted back against the pillows before turning around and flopping down flat again with her knees bent and her legs slightly parted. She placed one arm behind her head and the other with her hand resting just above her stomach. "Or I could just sit with a book, like you'd walked in on me reading," she offered, her smile mischievous.

"You could," he said as he pressed the button. He pulled the photo from the camera, then coughed once it developed. "...Maybe you should."

Orina climbed off of the bed and walked over to examine the picture. "I should," she agreed. "But, I won't. It's perfect."

"It's certainly, er, something," Elgin said, then paused. "I'm starting to think this wasn't such a good idea."

"It's not the only one we'll send her," Orina said. "Now, shoo: I need to change my clothes and hair. We'll take a nice one of me standing in the hall dressed like I'm ready for work and then later, after I bathe, on the couch in a nightshirt. You can start drafting the letter in the meantime."

"The camera has a timer... It can be set to automatically take a picture after a delay," Elgin said. "Maybe instead of the other two, we could just take one of us sitting together?"

"Even better," Orina said. She patted Elgin on the arm, then took the photo away from him. "And I'll be taking this for now. I think you've seen enough of it."

"I wasn't --"

"Out," she said, pointing at the door. Once he had left, she removed the blue shirt and folded it before setting it on top of the dresser next to the two photographs of her. Then, she pulled open the dresser drawer and examined what she had before selecting one of the blouses she had rejected earlier that day. She arranged her hair in a casual updo, then undid it in favor of a loose braid that she draped over one shoulder. And she sighed at how much effort she was putting into impressing... Isabel, she finished, before the needling little voice in her head could.

When Orina entered the living room, she saw that Elgin had set the camera on top of the television. He had also, she noticed, removed the sheets and pillow from the arm of the sofa. "Hey," she said before sitting down.

"Hang on and I'll set the timer," Elgin said. He jumped up and fiddled with the camera, then sat down next to her on the couch. "I set it for five minutes. I figured we'd need time to decide on --" he began, but stopped abruptly when Orina snuggled up to him and laid her head against his chest. "Or that. That works." He put an arm around her and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"Now put your other hand on my stomach," Orina said. She placed her hands over his when he complied. "How long do we have?"

"Still about five minutes. I didn't think we'd --"

"Shh." Orina patted his hand, then settled back to listen to his heartbeat. "I can wait."

"Then I can, too," Elgin said softly. He pulled her closer and rested his cheek against her head. And, together, they waited until the camera finally whirred. "Thank you, Orina."

"Let's see what it looks like before you thank me," Orina said. "We might need to retake it." She pulled away and sat back up, while Elgin retrieved the picture. "Well?"

"We're cute," he said, then handed it to her.

Orina stared at the picture. They were, indeed, cute and looked very much in love. "Somehow I think this is even worse than the other one."

"Oh, it is," Elgin agreed. "She might never write to me again. Let's work on the letter."

The letter turned out to be a giddy collaboration that while objectively true, contained enough omitted details that it veered into the realm of fiction. It presented Orina as an expert on Pre-Fall Zeal and implied that was how she and Elgin met. It failed to mention how long they had known each other, but did include that they lived together and suggested that it had been for a while. It included details about his work and told about her guest lecture. Elgin also jokingly despaired about Orina laying claim to all of his nightshirts -- apparently, those had mortified Isabel -- and theorized that the baby's growing presence was the only thing that could successfully combat her predatory laundry room habits. The rest of the letter was spent commenting on the contents of her previous cards and asking a few questions for further correspondence.

"I am not that bad!" Orina said, once the letter was printed, signed, and placed in an envelope along with the two photos.

Elgin chuckled as he put on his suitcoat. "The post office has a drop box, and I worry that I'll change my mind if I leave this in the box outside the door. It's only a few blocks there and back -- would you like to walk with me?"

"That depends," Orina said.

"On?"

"If you think I'm some sort of horrible clothing thief, I'm staying home."

"...You're coming with me, then," Elgin replied.

Orina started to take his arm, but stopped and took a step backwards. "And why do you want me to come with you, Elgin?"

"Because I'm terrified that, if you don't, you'll steal half my shirts for yourself and all my underwear for spite while I'm gone," he said gravely.

"Does it get hot in Medina?" She remembered the polka-dotted shorts and, while those were certainly out of the question, she could potentially see herself wearing a less garish pair around the house in the summertime. They probably look silly on him, too, with his feathered legs and-- Orina stopped herself before her imagination could take over.

"No, no, not particularly," Elgin said with another soft chuckle.