The Base

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"You know it's a bad idea, right?"

I look up. "Huh?"

It's Pixie Cut, aka Faith, Val's roommate. She's leaning against the bookcase, staring at me. "You and Val. Bad idea. Going to end badly."

"Who's Val?" I say. "What do you mean?"

She rolls her eyes. "Fine. Play dumb. So long as you're happy with Little Miss McCrazy, none of my business."

I guess Val wasn't kidding when she said she wasn't popular with the other girls. "What's your problem with her?"

"She's just weird. That's all. I'm surprised you two haven't gotten caught yet, with as many cameras as there are around here."

"No idea what you mean."

The doors to the library swing open, and Val comes tumbling in, followed by a flurry of snow. "Whoo!" she says, shaking some flakes off. "Gareth, you are not ..." She catches sight of Faith. "Oh. Um. Hi, Faith."

"Whatever." She pushes herself from the bookcase and moves out the door. "Dig your own grave."

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Val and I meet most of the time in the library. If Doc's there, we keep it on the down low—sit at opposite ends of the desk, pretend to read the encyclopedias. But if he's not, we cuddle by the DVD rack while she tells me about the different ones she loves and why. Or sometimes we go in the back by the fantasy lit books and I tell her about the different chivalric stories I like.

"Hey," I say, one day. "I got something for you. Well, made, I guess ..." I fumble in my coat pocket. "We did crafts in English class. Made pins based on some book we finished ... I forget the details. Anyway, here you are." I hold out my gift: a pin made of twisted wire. Two wings spreading outwards from a diamond.

She takes it from me. "A present you made in arts and crafts. So romantic." She giggles. "Wow, though. This is really good for something you made yourself. Why the wings?"

"I was thinking of making an angel emblem. Like a coat-of-arms. You know, like what knights had on their shields?"

"What is it with you and knights?" she asks, looking at me. I still can't decide what color her eyes are. Sky blue? Sapphire?

"Well ... I mean, I just ..." I hesitate. "It's ... y'know how I usually go by Gareth?"

"Right. Because it's the only vaguely good one.

"Right. It's this guy in King Arthur. He's pretty badass; he starts out as this kitchen boy named Beaumains, but—"

She giggles again. "You sound like such a nerd."

"Well ..." I feel warm, but not embarrassed. "Yeah. I don't talk about it much."

"Mm." She nuzzles into my side a bit more. My arm's going a bit numb, and I'm gonna have to move it in a bit. Not yet though. "You're really weird, you know that?" she says, offhandedly.

I'm not sure how to feel about that. Odd. I'd always thought I wanted someone to tell me I was weird. "What do you mean?"

"It just..." Her back rises and falls as she takes a breath. "Never mind. Hey," she says, turning towards me. "You wanna go to the fight on Saturday? Watch some guys burn off their hormonal male aggression?"

'That's not what it's about," I say, though at this point I guess I don't know what the fights are about. Getting noticed? Showing off?

"Sure that's what it's about," she says. "Guys are all about being the biggest and the strongest. They're all about power." She pauses. "I guess they might also be trying to impress girls. Sex is the other thing guys are all about. Not... y'know. Love."

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