Wilde Card, page 46
And when his shift was over, Kalvin unzipped the overalls, docked his tray, shrugged his backpack on and headed for civilisation. Ah, but to be amongst normal people again. Carly had been replaced with a sour faced guard called Paul and Kalvin had to wait ten minutes as he tried to find the timesheets. Then he was subjected to a conversation about punctuality because he was leaving on time.
“When I was your age, I was always the last to leave,” he spat as he signed Kal out. “How this generation expects to climb the ladder with such a lazy attitude is beyond me.”
“We would happily climb...if there was a ladder to climb.”
Karl shouldn't have answered and he was well aware of that. Paul had an expression on his face that made it look as though he had bitten into a lemon. Kal was supposed to keep his head down, blend in, make few friends and even less of an impression. But here he was, making an impression, all because a bitter old man didn’t want to let go of the past. He shoved his timesheet back and flipped up his hood. It was time to go. Now.
He ignored whatever Paul muttered after him and instead just focused on getting out of the building. His bag felt heavier on his back, heavy from the tools he wasn’t supposed to have on him in the first place. HIs mind felt heavier, heavy from the information he wasn’t supposed to know. He kept his gaze low, avoiding eye contact with the armed soldiers patrolling the quad. Here was a place where he had no friends, exchanged no friendly glances. He didn’t like guns. He never stopped long enough to even notice the colour of the soldiers’ hair, let alone who they were.
Once past the gates, the pressure on Kalvin’s chest lessened - but not completely. He was always on edge now, and had been since his very first day in the bloc. There was something so cold and detached, aside from the obvious, about the building that raised the hairs on the back of his neck. Even after two weeks-
Something barrelled into him. Or, rather, someone. He stepped back, surprised, as a warm body wrapped itself around him. Almost instantly, it disentangled itself and Kalvin was looking down at Chloe. He had been in a world of his own and she had jolted him out of his reverie. His pulse jumped in his throat. If there was one thing he hated, it was surprises.
“Chloe!” he admonished her.
“You’re late,” she replied. “You were supposed to be here five minutes ago.”
She was irritated, that much was obvious from her drawn eyebrows, her pursed mouth, her stance. All traces of her hug had disappeared, and he was now faced with hands on the hips. She was wearing the jeans he really liked on her, and her hair was tied up into a ponytail. It made her look a lot softer, swinging behind her, even with her angry face on. Lost in his own thoughts, he had walked at least two miles without realising his speed. They hadn’t planned to meet after his shift but he could see that she had been waiting anyway on the broken wall lining an abandoned bank.
“I’m not late, that would imply that we had plans.”
She scowled. “You think I wouldn’t check up on you after what you just did in there?”
“Careful, Chlo,” Kalvin raised an amused eyebrow. “You’re on the verge of sounding like my girlfriend. We wouldn’t want that now.”
His sarcasm was palpable. She caught it, balled it up, and shoved it at him in the form of her middle finger. “Don’t go there again.” She scooped up her bag from the wall and started walking. He had no choice but to fall in step with her. “I don’t know why I can’t care about you without having to deal with your labels.”
“My labels? I didn’t invent relationships,” he scoffed. “But generally speaking, my girlfriend would care what happened to me. Not a mean little hobbit.”
She laughed, both at the name calling and his not-so-subtle hints. They had this discussion often; he wasn’t going to budge and neither was she, but they liked the company too much to break it off. She acted much like a girlfriend would; walking him to work, caring for his cuts and scrapes when he had a particularly rough rugby game, teaching him how to break a man’s arm...all things he admired about her. But she didn’t want to be ‘trapped’, her words, not his. As a one-woman kind of guy, Kalvin wasn’t so keen to give up. She was soft as baby fuzz underneath all the blustering and the bravado, and he had all the time in the world.
“So tell me, why were you late?”
She wasn’t going to let it go. She knew his rota, and his habits, well enough to have been waiting for him in the right place at the right time. He took her bag, which looked heavy, and shrugged it over his other shoulder. It was heavy. He looked down at her, into her muddy brown eyes, and saw that she wasn’t going to thank him for his help - which he hadn’t expected anyway - but also that she was waiting for her answer.
“New guard in the booth. He didn’t know how to fill out the timesheets.”
“So….not Carla this time?”
Kalvin’s ears practically twitched. “Carla? You mean Carly?” he grinned. “Why would it matter which guard was in the booth?”
She was quick to shrug, even quicker to look away. “It doesn’t. Just asking. I’m allowed to ask, aren’t I? You’re always flirting with her, so I thought you were late because you were chatting away.”
“I flirt with her as part of my assignment. You know that, right?”
Chloe idly lifted a shoulder. They walked for a bit in silence, skirting around a new mother pushing a buggy, and avoiding a massive, ankle-breaking crack in the pavement. Somewhere, behind a mass of clouds and dust, a lone and amber ray of sunshine shone through. There was a consistent humming in the air. And Kalvin remembered what he saw in the bloc. He kept his mouth firmly clamped shut: he wasn't allowed to discuss it outside of Tia’s permission. That included even Chloe.
He had planned to go home, but he saw that she was leading him in the other direction.
It was in her nature to walk fast - in fact, she did everything fast. She was a 5 foot nothing bolt of lightning, constantly zipping around the place. Over a foot taller than her, Kalvin could easily keep up with her pace but sometimes he liked to hang back purposely. Partly so he could admire her figure as her wide hips swung from side to side like the cat that got the cream, but also so that he could think without feeling her scrupulous gaze. And she had him thinking a lot.
He had never felt this way about anyone, not even about Jules. There was something about Chloe that he couldn't find in anyone else. Her passion, her fire, her spark...it was a never ending, full scale blaze. She was tough, with a real powerful attitude and a strong sense of belief. In that way, he reminded her of Tia, but that was where the similarities began and ended. Despite all her talk, and all her actions, Chloe had a soft core stemming from years of maternal neglect and loneliness. She didn’t make friends easily and she didn’t know how to articulate herself without a scowl. When anyone showed her anything close to affection, she didn’t know how to handle it so she lashed out.
Until Kalvin. She had developed a soft spot for him after weeks of him trying to show her that it didn’t always have to be an argument, that she didn’t always have to retaliate, that it wasn’t all doom and gloom. It had started out as just the smallest, teensiest, soft spot. Kalvin was nothing if not patient; his time spent chasing after his science teacher could attest to that. So he put in the time and the effort and the affection, all the better to bring Chloe to the precipice of trust. Despite what she said, she did like him - it was in the way she shouted at him for stepping out in front of a car without looking, the way she asked him if he had eaten, the way she fiercely didn’t want him to have anything to do with the Rebellion. And fiercely was the appropriate adverb in this case.
All these...mannerisms...they were the reason why Kalvin was doing this. For her. He wanted to protect her, even though she would adamantly deny needed protection from anyone, from anything. He relished the chance to help, to be the saviour. He knew, without a doubt, that his father would be proud of him if he could see him. Tia - one of the only women in his life - had never let him help her. But here was Chloe, who didn’t want help but would accept it from him because she liked him. Here was a girl with a smirking mouth and a mischievous glint who would flush at his compliments. She wasn’t used to them, he knew. But she deserved good things.
So here was Kalvin, doing the Rebellion’s dirty work. All the while, falling deeper and deeper in love with Chloe Peters.
◆◆◆
They hadn’t spoken for the rest of the walk. Chloe’s bag was heavy on Kalvin’s shoulder but he refrained from asking her what was in it. She liked her privacy and he respected that, even though he was harbouring suspicions of a bomb. She liked to fiddle with things, had in fact made the tech-savvy glass reader that he had tucked into his own bag. She was intelligent, if impatient, and had the full capability. But both she, and TIa, had assured him that the Rebels were not terrorists. So he let that thought go.
As usual, once they reached the entrance of Hyde park, Chloe produced a scarf from her pocket. Kalvin lowered his torso so that she could reach him, bending his head so she could tie the scarf over his eyes. She tightened the knot at the back of his head, just enough that it would stay in place but wouldn’t cut off any blood circulation - not like she had done the first time, giving him a headache and a scar. And then, surprising him, her mouth was pressed to his and her fingers were now cradling his face. He felt for her body, letting his hands settle on her hips - his second favourite part of her - and pulling her closer.
She would be on tiptoes, he knew even without sight. She smelled like burnt sugar and something heavier, something like wood. She was soft in his arms, such a contradiction to all her spiky words and her easy glares. Kissing her whilst being blindfolded was new, but he liked the fresh feeling of it. He was noticing things he never had before. Like the way she cradled his face, the crescents of her nails resting casually in the hollows of his cheekbones. Like the way she slanted her mouth across his, not with her usual hastiness but as if she had all the time in the world, as if - perhaps - she didn’t ever want to stop. And he would understand that, because there was a spark in his chest, the kind that he didn’t want to stop.
She made an involuntary sound in the back of her throat, the sound waves vibrating all the way through his tonsils. He wanted to touch her more, to let his hands float over her body like ten individual butterflies searching for home. He wanted to press her closer, to feel her melt into him. He liked the way she stood her own, even when she was completely within his grasp, with full flat-footed assurance. He wanted to sweep her up, damn the assurance, and just hold her.
She pulled away, with a dry chuckle, and he could only imagine the amusement on her face. She took one of his hands around her waist and entwined their fingers. “Follow me.”
It would have been unnecessary for her to say in any other instance, but Kalvin’s brain was still fried from the best kiss they’d ever had. He nodded, like a dummy, and let her lead him through the park. It was nearing night now, but there was still plenty of life around. He heard scurrying in the scarce shrubbery, the choice call of a nest of birds overhead. He heard Chloe’s feet slipping in the mud beneath them. He had planned for that, however, and his boots held their own in the uneven ground.
Kalvin didn’t want to join the Rebellion. That was one thing he did know for sure and one decision that he was sticking to. A lot of people had tried to convince him otherwise, using his physique, his intelligence, his kindness, as bargaining chips. But he knew what his future was and it wasn’t to become a member of an anti-government movement. Chloe agreed as well - the only person who did agree with his choice. However, because he wasn’t actually a Rebel, everything was still classified when it came to him. He wasn’t allowed to know the location of the Tunnels, for one, which was why Chloe had to blindfold him. She enjoyed it, secretly, and he knew that (although he would never let on that he did). There wasn’t much she didn’t like to control.
He knew they were within the Tunnels when a wall of heat hit his body. He shrugged off his jacket at the same time as she undid his blindfold. She wasn’t supposed to remove it until they had passed the trio of tunnels and he was nestled safely within the heart of the network, but she had been breaking this rule almost since the beginning. She tucked the scarf into her pocket and decided to take her bag back. He allowed her to slide it off his shoulder and shrug it onto hers. As she did so, her hand lingered on his shoulder, his arm, his wrist. She started off down the tunnel without a word, and he followed behind her equally as silent.
He pretty much knew his way around the Tunnels by now but he wouldn’t tell anyone that. They didn’t think he paid enough attention to worry about whatever conclusions he may come up with on his own. Chloe took him to the canteen instead of straight to the library as she was supposed to. It was filled with people, loud with laughter and friendly chatter, encircled by the rich smell of gravy. Kalvin’s stomach grumbled.
“Hungry?” she asked him.
“I could eat a horse.”
“I don’t doubt it,” she replied, giving him the once over for the benefit of her joke. And it was a joke, of course, but the twinkle in her eye, and the bass in her throat...Kalvin felt more than just his stomach twitch.
Flustered, he sat at the first empty table they found. She flung her bag down to guard her seat and went to get their food. He received a lot of stares whilst she was gone, as he always did, mostly of curiosity but also a few of confusion. He had kept to himself at school once Tia had left but no doubt some of them still recognised him. To distract himself, he looked down at the table, tracing over the engravings with his thumb nail. Random names, unintelligible sentences, smiley faces. And then he heard a snippet of the conversation being had a table over and he couldn’t help but listen.
“...Tia Wildehurst as her second.”
“That would be dynamic! Can you imagine how fun that would be? They’re both so amazing at what they do.”
“Well, apparently, Natalia doesn’t even want a second.”
“Yeah right. Who would turn that down?”
“Well I wouldn’t kick her out of bed-”
“You’re disgusting, you know that right? I’m sitting right here, you arsehole.”
And then the sound of a girl storming away from the table, cutlery clattering on the table where she dropped them in her haste to get away. Kal sneaked a peek and saw two boys watching, bewildered, as their female companions stalked off. He mused over what he had heard. Tia, as Natalia’s second? From what he had gathered, Talia was the Leader and that was where the hierarchy ended. Kalvin knew of the council but they were more of a figurehead. They couldn’t actually enforce a second, surely?
Chloe dumped two trays down on the table. Kal looked up at her and she frowned. “Oh, you wanted the stew, didn’t you? For God’s sake-”
“No, no,” he put out a hand, grabbing her arm and pulling her into her seat. “I don’t. Thank you.”
She narrowed her eyes as she pushed his tray towards him. Chicken dumplings and salad, a respite from the usual onslaught of meat meat meat and more meat. He raised an eyebrow when he saw the artificial greens. “...Salad?”
She avoided his eyes and he watched her doing it. “I just felt like a change, is all.”
“Chlo, you don’t eat green things.”
“I just wanted a change. Are you deaf?” she sighed, exasperated.
Kalvin dropped his fork and scrutinised her. She was lying to him. “What are you not telling me?”
She ignored him, or tried to. After a minute of pushing her food around the plate, bearing the brunt of his glare, she dropped her fork too.
“Okay, fine,” she snapped. “If you must make a big deal of it. I’m trying to lose weight.”
Kalvin blinked. He looked down at the unappealing salad, the green foliage which could have been salty bread or creamy mashed potatoes instead. He looked back up at her, with her reddening cheeks and her stubborn chin.
“What for?”
The question was a silly one, obviously, if her reaction was anything to go by. He hadn’t thought it would be so inflammatory but she had other ideas. She pushed her tray away, as if disgusted by it.
“What for?” she scowled. “Have you seen yourself? You’re built like a goddamn cathedral, Kal. And then look at me.”
“Look at you? All I do is look at you. What’s wrong with you? Because I don’t see anything that I don’t like.”
She opened her mouth to jettison off some scathing remark, but nothing came out. She snapped her mouth shut, her eyes wide. He was reminded of the first time they met, her eyes wide as he asked her out, the flare of disbelief on her face.
“Chlo, you don’t like salad, so why are you eating it? You don’t have to lose weight, so why are you trying? I play rugby, and to be honest I have always been this big, even as a kid. You know, most of this is just body fat? When my clothes are off, I look just like any other guy. I’m not made of stone.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“I can promise you that I’m not,” he said, as softly as he could. “Is that...is that why you always push me away?”
She grimaced, looked to the floor, back into his eyes. She liked his eyes, had always told him that they reminded her of the first bar of chocolate she had ever had. “Someone like you shouldn’t want to touch someone like me.”
Her words hurt him, razoring straight to the bone. Who had hurt her so much that she thought so little of herself? It irritated him, he found, and with a ferocity that he hadn’t felt before. He wasn’t the type of guy who cared about those things and she had to know that. He liked her because she wasn’t funny at all, as in she genuinely wouldn’t know a joke if it slapped her. He liked her because she was feisty and stubborn and she fought for whatever she wanted. He liked her because she had a way of looking at him, with slight curiosity, like a cat with a twinkle in its eye. He liked her because the first time they kissed, it was on her terms. In fact, everything was on her terms. She knew what she wanted, and he liked that.
