Hybrids

Chapter 5

A couple of days have passed since Aron dumped a massive history lesson on me. That night after he left, I poured a glass of Flóki whisky and opened the books Aron gave me. I have been pouring over every page for the past two days trying to make sure I at least had a vague idea of my world.

It is now Friday afternoon, and I am elbow deep in a bag of potato chips, reading a chapter about Nixies (water spirits not dissimilar to mermaids but don't get the two confused because apparently, they get really pissed if you call them mermaids). Suddenly, I am shocked out of my concentration when I hear a knock at the door. I shake the crumbs off my sweatpants and put the book in my bedside drawer.

I open the door and standing there like a model, is Sigjon.

He smiles brightly at me and says, "Hey! Did you get Frigg's text about me coming over before we go out tonight? I would have texted you myself, but I didn't have your number."

I haven't checked my phone all day because I have been so invested in the books.

"Oh shit! I haven't checked my phone all day. I have been reading a really, uh, interesting book. A real page turner," I laugh nervously.

"No problem. Mind if I come in? It's really cold out."

"Yes of course! Sorry."

I lead Sigjon into my humble abode and head to the kitchen to take out two glasses for drinks.

"You want to have anything to drink? Water, liquor, beer?" I ask, suddenly finding myself very self-conscious of my actions.
"What liquor do you have?" He asks as he moves closer to me.

I open a cabinet that has the alcohol in it and Sigjon chooses the vodka. He goes to open the fridge and I watch his head cock to the side as he notices some of the items in there have labels on them.

"You labeled your food?" Sigjon laughed. My face turns beet red.

"I ran into Frigg at the grocery store the other day and she helped me pick out food. She labeled the food for me, so I knew what what was."

"Yeah, that sounds like her," He says with a genuine laugh. He grabs the cranberry juice and limes and starts to make us cocktails. I watch his hands work as he cuts up the lime and squeezes the juice into each glass. He has nice hands.

"So, Ren. Are you going to go out in sweatpants?" Sigjon asks. I look down at my clothes and get embarrassed at my appearance. In the presence of a model and I am wearing two-day old sweatpants.

"Not that it doesn't look totally cool, but you may want to wear something with no holes in it," Sigjon says quickly, as if trying to apologize.

"Yeah, I guess I should change," I say. I walk over to the closet and look at what shirts I have. I don't know what to wear out, so I look at Sigjon and ask, "What should I wear? I have never really done this going out thing before. I don't want to embarrass you."

"You couldn't embarrass me even if you tried," Sigjon said coolly before meeting me at the closet. He rifles through my clothes and picks out a black turtleneck sweater, a blue and white striped scarf (my dad gave it to me for Christmas for color in my closet. But he didn't want to 'overwhelm' me with a shirt just yet), and a pair of black jeans. He lays them out on the bed and makes a gesture towards them with his arms stretched out towards it, as if beckoning me over. "This will be your outfit. Simple, yet very stylish, and very you."

I look at it like I am severely judging it, giving it a skeptical glance. "What makes you think it is very me? How would you know?" I ask jokingly.