Trying to get back on my regular posting schedule again. Post-holiday, there was the whole awful explosion in the romance community, and then I got sick and… well, anyway. I’m working on edits for Exit Plans for Teenage Freaks, as well as final proofs for Of Echoes Born, and it’s time to give myself a moment to just revel in inspiration. So, back to Monday Flash Fics, which this week, brought this little gem:
The take-a-few-more-steps-and-turn-to-check thing is old hat, but the classics stay for a reason. You see the cute guy, you pass by, and then, a couple of steps later, you turn back to look. If he’s also looking at you?
I’m maybe not as overt as all that, but I’ve done it. I’ve even done more than just smile at the guy once it happens, though only the once, and it turned into a coffee date that didn’t repeat. Still, there’s a kind of happiness in those turn-and-look moments. You get to revel in a split second or two of not only not being alone, but also of being in the company of someone who finds you attractive.
Sometimes, you wink. Sometimes, you say “Hi,” even. Usually? You just smile, and then you both walk on, enjoying the moment.
But this was different.
I’m not GenTech. I should be clear about that. No one mixed and matched DNA to suit their purposes and then stirred for nine months until—voila!—freak cake, ready for frosting. No, I’m something different. Worse, according to most.
All that stuff the GenTech people can do? They learned it from somewhere. I got my stuff the old-fashioned way.
I inherited it.
That I’m living in Canada is one of the few reasons I’m still walking around, of course. No required screenings at birth. I’m lucky. But with the world government looming, and the pressure on the True North Strong and Free, I’m thinking soon enough it’ll just be the True North Strong, and then…
Then I don’t know. Given how the United Earth Charter seems so very, very clear on what is and isn’t human, I’m guessing it’ll be best if I find somewhere else to be. Mars, maybe, though lord knows the Reds aren’t much better. Luna?
Alone in my apartment, I practice. I’m not a teep, thankfully: I can’t imagine how in the world teeps stay off the radar. How would you even practice not thinking too loud? But I’m a teek, and a strong one, I think.
It’s not like there’s a lot of easily accessed information about it. And I don’t go searching, since I’m sure they watch out for people who search that stuff.
I can lift a lot—I’ve lifted my entire set of weights, and it barely feels like effort these days. I can lift myself, too, which was hard to figure out and I dropped myself often at first. The idea is to be so good at what I do that I don’t do it when I’m surprised. Or scared. Or shocked.
Which makes what just happened so dangerous.
I probably would have looked at him regardless. That’s the frustrating thing. He’s handsome. I’m not as keen on his black suit—not flattering, snub collared, so very blend-in-and-take-no-notice—but then again, that’s more or less what I’m wearing, too.
But that’s not why I turned.
It was the hum.
The closer he got to me, he walking his way, me walking mine, passing on an empty street in the night, the louder that hum got. Except it wasn’t a noise. It was… vibration.
I could feel it happening and couldn’t stop it in time. An instinct kicked in. Found something similar and… reached out.
Three steps after, I turned, realizing with a cold shock what I’d done.
The look on his face matched mine, I imagine.
We were both about an inch off the ground. It wasn’t on purpose. My teek had just sort of picked him up.
His had done the same to me.
“Hi,” I said. My voice cracked.
“Hey.” He barely managed the word.
We both lowered to the ground.