1.1 The Chronicles of Us - Vice & Virtue

Chapter thirty

I grin at the tiny yellow pill in the palm of my hand. This is going to be one heck of a ride. Well, not just yet. I went to the health clinic yesterday to get on birth control. Apparently, it takes a week before it's safe to have unprotected sex. In lights of that, I bought some more condoms, extra-large.

Both size and quantity.

Honestly, the whole ordeal was a little embarrassing. I felt sixteen instead of twenty-one. A girl whose ears turned bright red at the sound of questions about anal and bed partners.

Or maybe it was because the good doctor looked like the star actor from some hospital TV show. He even had that Hollywood smile. People here are ... different.

He raised a good question, though. Am I in a committed relationship? Despite the fact that Tex and I haven't exactly defined what we are doing, I don't believe he would cheat. The exclusivity is implied.

After gulping down the pill with a drink of water and then hiding the strip in my shower bag, I walk up to the bookshelf in the living room. Dozens of methodically organized books, CDs and old vinyl records fill the shelfs. They are grouped by genre and then in alphabetical order.

Music is not something I know a lot about, so I focus on the books. Most of them are thrillers, dystopian novels and biographies about famous musicians. I would never have picked any of these books myself, but I'll will try them anyway. Tex is not easily impressed, so the storytelling must be formidable.

I run my finger over the bindings until I reach the last two. They seem random and out of place. The first is some sort of crafts book on how to be creative with cork. The second one is a classic. In fact, it's one of my favorite novels.

I take Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland off the shelf and sit down on one of the balcony chairs. Just when I'm about to flip the cover, my phone buzzes. Could be Tex. We didn't decide on dinner yet. I tap the screen and read the message. "Wait outside at six and wear pants."

Seems a bit cryptic. Besides, it's hot like the Devil's pan-fry outside. I text a simple response. "Why?"

He sends a non-answer back. "Just do it."

I guess, I'll have to wait and see. Since there's an hour left, I might as well re-read some of Alice's peculiar adventures. This copy seems rather old. I run the pages through my fingers and do a quick sniff.

That satisfying old-book smell.

As I inhale again, I notice a picture sticking out from between the pages. Interesting. I pull it out and place my hand on my chest. What a lovely photo.

A young boy—ten or so—stands next to his mother, holding up a guitar. The boy wears a big smile above his Loony Tunes shirt. The mother is kneeled down, pressing a kiss on his temple. The boy is obviously Tex. That shade of blue in his eyes is quite special. His features are softer, rounder. But even then it was evident that he was going to be a heartbreaker. His mother is just as lovely. Honey-brown hair and similar eyes. How is it possible that this happy-looking woman suffered from depression and took her own life? Tex must have been devastated; he looks a bit like a momma's boy.

Maybe that's why there's not a single picture displayed throughout the apartment. I can only assume it's too difficult for him to be confronted with the loss. Why does he keep it in this book, though?

I flip back to the first page. Something is written on it. It seems to be a child's handwriting. "Property of Guinevere."

Is this his mother's book? If he keeps it, it must have been special to her. What a coincidence that we both love the same novel. Can I share this with Tex or will talking about his mom hurt too much? Food for thought.