Rogue of Taurus

Whitney was starting to be the person that Livia went to for relationship advice. Whitney was crocheting on the couch when Livia came into the living room and lay on the floor in front of her.

“What’s going on, Liv?” she asked.

“I have a problem with this guy--”

“Oliver?”

“No, this is a new guy,” Livia said.

Whitney made an intrigued noise. “Go on.”

“I know him from work back home--”

“Oh, you ran into him at that library service project, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” Livia said, surprised she remembered.

“So, what’s the problem?”

Livia took a deep breath. She couldn’t tell Whitney all the details. She’d spent three days trying to figure out how to navigate this conversation without spilling anything she shouldn’t.

“I’ve had a crush on him for--” since I was seventeen “--a while but I know he’s all wrong for me.”

“How do you know that?” Whitney asked.

“He dated one of my friends back home and he didn’t treat her very well--”

“Why? What did he do?” Whitney asked.

Livia sighed. “She got this job she was really excited about and good at and he asked her to quit because he didn’t like it.”

“Oh,” Whitney sounded, concerned. “Do you know the reason why he didn’t like it?”

Livia paused. “No. It’s not like I interrogated him about it.”

“Well, you can’t be upset unless you know the reason. What if they were asking her to do unsafe things or the person she was working for was a jerk or something?”

Livia picked at the carpet anxiously. “Here’s the thing. I can’t ask him why he objected to her job.”

“Why not?” Whitney asked.

“I don’t know how to bring it up--” Livia said.

“Just bring it up,” Whitney said.

Livia shook her head. “We’re not that close. That’s the thing. We’re not close and that won’t change so I need to stop liking him.”

Whitney sighed. “You’re not going to like my advice.”

“What is it?” Livia asked.

“There are two ways to get over a person,” Whitney said. “One, you date other people until you find someone you like better--”

Livia let that sink in and her heart sank. You didn’t find many people better than Corvin--good family, financially stable, smart, professional, hard-working, community-minded. The boys in the general population wouldn’t catch up for years. Livia had time, though, she could wait.

Whitney continued. “Second, you tell them you like them and it either works out or it doesn’t.”

Livia frowned. “I don’t like that.”

“Why not?” Whitney asked.

Livia turned toward Whitney. “What if it works out?”

Whitney laughed. “Then great! Right?”

“This is bad advice.” Livia pulled herself into a sitting position and stood up.

“Wait, what’s his name?”

“I’m not telling you--” Livia said, walking away.

Whitney laughed again. “Come on!”

“No. You already know too much.”

###

Livia struggled to decide to go mingle with the Caesareans that weekend. Her little spat with Corvin left her discouraged. How long was he going to put up with her attitude? She was emotionally self-aware enough to know that she needed to interact with other people to ward off one of the depressive spirals she was prone to, but she couldn’t expect the others to like her if she kept fighting with Corvin.

Were things so bad with Corvin that she shouldn’t go? He hadn’t deliberately done anything rude or mean. He’d even changed how he smelled for her. Shouldn’t that count for something? In the end, it was the smell thing that made up her mind. He’d made an honest effort. She couldn’t snub him because he didn’t act the way she wanted him too right when she wanted.

Livia made a batch of cookies and headed over to Ratco. Just having people to give food to improved her mood dramatically. Terrance lit up when he opened the door and saw her. “Hey, we weren’t sure you were coming! Come in!”

“I brought cookies,” Livia said.

The Caesarean's made a big deal out of this. Livia had a reputation for making good cookies. She’d started working at a catering company when she was 14 and at 15 had moved back to the kitchens on the desert team. Then she’d worked at a bakery for a while before she moved to Caesarea. Livia was pro at baking and it had become her trademark way to apologize to people. Everyone in Justin’s department knew this about her and found amusement in it.

Corvin’s eyes twinkled when he saw the plate of cookies. He leaned in close so only she could hear. “Are these the famous apology cookies?

Livia’s cheeks warmed. “I, um, maybe--”

He tilted his head. “Maybe?”

“I’m sorry,” Livia squeaked.

He grinned. “We’re good. Thank you for the cookies.”

Livia relaxed. “Is the fridge working?”

“Yes,” he grinned. “Mission accomplished. Thank you for helping me out.”

Livia nodded. “No problem.”

Corvin stepped back.

The evening was full of lightheartedness and fun. No serious talk came up to Livia’s surprise. They all laughed and teased each other as they played card games. It was a good evening and Livia enjoyed it fully, refusing to think about her past or her future. This was one of the good times that made the bad stuff bearable.

Livia walked into the fall night air grinning, still alight with happiness from the evening. She hopped into her car and tried to start it. All Livia got was a clicking sound.

Livia groaned. “No, come on, I replaced your battery earlier this year.”

Livia took a deep breath and tried again. Nothing. Livia could not afford another repair bill. Maybe she’d forgotten to turn her lights off and needed a jump. She got out of the car and walked back toward Corvin’s place. Felicity had already taken off. Livia got to the door and lifted her hand to knock when a sound made her freeze.

Guitar music. Someone was playing.

Livia huddled closer to the door to listen. She didn’t realize how long she had stood there listening until someone walked out the door the next house over and looked at her. Livia didn’t want to look like a burglar so she knocked--too hard.

Her face heated. The person walked away without a word and got in a car. The guitar music stopped. Footsteps. The sound of the door unlocking. Corvin’s face appeared. “Liv?”

“Hey, my car won’t start.”

“Oh,” he said. “Let me grab a flashlight and a jacket. I’ll be out in a sec.”

Livia waited on the lawn. Corvin came out a moment later with a flashlight clutched in one palm, still threading his arms through his jacket sleeves.

“Has it been giving you a lot of problems lately?” he asked.

Livia sighed. “One of the belts snapped this summer. I had to pay to repair some of the stuff it broke too. It was...a lot of money.”

“Alright, what do you think it is?”

"The battery,” she said.

“Did you leave your lights on?” he asked.

“I don’t remember doing that, but I must have because it won’t start.”

Corvin’s expression didn’t change. “Let’s see what we got.”

Corvin’s flashlight traveled over the car. “How old is it, Liv? It’s a Honda Prelude. They don’t even make that model anymore.”

“It’s a 2000.”

Corvin made a clicking noise. “Did the mechanic give you a hassle about replacing parts?”

“No.”

“Well, let’s hope that if we got a serious problem on our hands they don’t charge you extra because the parts are hard to find.”

Livia sighed. “Probably just the battery.”

Corvin held out his palm. “May I try to start it?”

Livia handed over her keys.

Corvin tried to turn the engine over and got the same odd clicking noise. He winced. “That’s not a dead battery noise...but it’s fairly easy to check…”

He rotated the key a notch back. Then he tried the interior lights. They turned on. He tried the radio. It turned on. He tried the headlights. They turned on.

Corvin sighed. “I mean, we can run to Walmart in my car and get a meter to be completely sure, but I think it’s something to do with your starter. Maybe the engine.”

Corvin turned the car off and slipped out of the car and closed the door and handed the keys back to her. “Why don’t you let me drive you home tonight? We can deal with it in the morning.”

“I need this car tomorrow,” Livia groaned. She had errands to run.

“Want to run out and get a meter?” he asked.

Livia sighed. “We should make sure before we call a tow, right? That will be expensive.”

“It will be alright, Liv.” Corvin put a hand on her arm. “We’ll figure it all out.”

Livia’s mood sunk like a sputtering balloon. This was an awful way to end a good night.

“Let me run in and get my keys and check in with Terrance,” Corvin said.

Terrance ended up coming with them. He slid into the back seat. “Thanks for letting me come, Corvin. I’ve needed to pick a few things up.”

“No problem,” Corvin said.

“I don’t have a car so I bum off Corvin whenever I get the chance,” Terrance grinned.

Livia didn’t respond and only nodded. She was looking out the passenger window trying to talk herself out of crying.

“You alright, Liv?” Corvin asked, softly.

She nodded again. Too afraid she’d cry if she spoke.

“Hey, if it’s about money. We can work something out,” Corvin said. “There’s stuff that needs to be done around the townhouse, like the fridge. I’d pay you.”

Livia didn’t respond. She had no intention of doing that. Ever. She’d get a real job before she ever relied on Corvin for money.

“No offense, Corvin, but I’m not helpless. I can get a real job.”

He was silent a moment. “I’m offering help, Liv, not an opinion of your abilities.”

“Right,” Livia looked out the window and ignored him. “Of course not.”

“You don’t mean that,” he said

Livia’s gaze snapped back toward him. “What?”

Corvin took a deep breath and said calmly. “I assume you think that I hold a negative opinion of you--”

Livia laughed. “Of course you do.”

“I don’t,” he said.

Livia shook her head. “You’re Caesarean of course you do. I’ll never be good enough for you.”

“You are good enough--’ Corvin insisted.

Livia laughed in sheer disbelief. “You expect me to believe that?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Corvin asked.

Livia turned to look out the window again. “Let’s drop it.”

Corvin sighed. “Do you know what bothers me the most? You seem to not trust me anymore, Livia.”

Livia snorted. “I’m not sure I ever did.”

“You did,” Corvin said.

She turned to snap at him. “Then I never should have.”

Pain flashed across Corvin's features. “Why do you say that, Livia?”

“Cause I’ve watched you this past year and…” Livia suddenly halted, realizing what she was about to say.

“And what?” he pressed.

Livia turned forward, stiff. “It’s not important.”

“So, it should be easy to tell him then,” Terrance interjected easily from the back. “No big deal.”

“No--” Livia said.

“If it’s this hard, that means it’s something significant--” Corvin infused his voice with an air of seriousness.

“It’s not, I--” Livia’s heart thudded. This was getting all turned around on her.

“Then tell me,” Corvin pressed.

Livia broke. “I think you pretended to be a certain person when I first met you, but you’re not that person. You pretended to be another person at work, but I don’t know if you’re that person either. So, how am I supposed to trust you, Corvin?”

Corvin sighed. “I’m not going to deny that you’re right. Cause you’re right. I pretend a lot. But don’t you pretend?”

“No,” Livia said.

“So, why did you start wearing business casual clothes when you moved to Caesarea?” Corvin asked. “That’s not how you dressed when I met you. That’s not how you’re dressed now…”

“There’s a reason I do that--”

“So, you assume there are not reasons why I act the way I do?” Corvin asked.

“I don’t understand them--”

“That doesn’t mean my reasons aren’t valid,” Corvin said, angry now. “But I get you’re upset. You’re not the first person to end a relationship over this issue.”

Livia leaned across the space between them and spoke with a fury she didn’t know was inside her. “Corvin, we don’t have a relationship to end!”

He flinched. Livia didn’t blame him. She was frightened of herself. She drew back against the door and looked out the window, wrapping her arms around herself. She was shaking and she didn’t like it. She wished she could escape. “Don’t expect,” she said in a shaky voice. “That you can ignore me, avoid me, and patronize me for an entire year and still call yourself my friend. That you can still have my trust. Your actions speak louder than a few compassionate words, Corvin Tullius. You showed me who you are.”

“That is unfair,” Terrance cried. “You--”

“Terrance,” Corvin cut him off. Livia had never heard him sound sterner.

“Corvin, she--”

“Terrance,” Corvin raised his voice this time.

Livia flinched, her stomach turning.

Corvin looked at her and almost whispered. “Thank you for trying to defend me, Terrance. But I’d like to do this my way.”

“Livia,” he spoke her name gently. “I’m sorry that I hurt you. I never wanted that. Can you believe that?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

“Okay,” he said, simply.

Livia hugged herself, feeling awful, waiting for him to say what he should say. She had no reason to expect that he should be her friend. He didn’t have any responsibility for her. She tried not to cry. “I’m sorry, Corvin. I’m so sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” he asked, low-toned and gentle.

“I don’t deserve to have you for a friend. I understand that. I’m too...I’m an outsider, my family is so...broken, I’m poor, I’m young, I’m a girl. Why would you ever want to be my friend? I don’t have a right to be so angry, to have expectations.”

Corvin was silent. Livia chanced a glance at him. His lips were pressed together, there was a sheen in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered again. “I’m so sorry.”

“Please, stop apologizing, Liv,” he said. “I’ve been an idiot. If you’ll forgive me, we can start over. We’re both students at the same university. We come from the same community and we can be friends.”

“No. I won’t be your friend here and then have you...do that thing. That thing where you change in Caesarea. I don’t want to be friends if that’s what I’m getting into. You have to be my friend in every place and in front of anybody, Corvin.”

He took a deep breath. “Okay. I will agree to that.”

“You will?”

“Yeah, yeah, I will,” he said.

“I don’t believe you,” she said.

“I know you won’t. Not until I prove it to you, but I’m willing to do that.”

“Are you?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Why?” Livia asked.

Corvin pulled into a parking spot. He was silent for a moment, hands moving on the steering wheel. “Because...you’ve always made me want to be a better person, Livia. I like that.”

“You like that?”

“Yeah, I do.”

Livia shook her head at him. “No, you don’t. Who would like that?”

He laughed. “I do, trust me.”

“We’ve established I don’t trust you.”

He laughed again.

“Seriously,” Livia opened her car door. “I’d rather we agree not to be friends.”

“Why?” Corvin looked insulted.

“It’s easier.”

“But not as fun,” he teased.

“You think me yelling at you is fun?” Livia asked.

He grinned. “Do you?”

“No!” Livia got out of the car and slammed the door. She flinched. She’d shut it way too hard and made a huge sound. Since it was metal she didn’t think she could hurt it. Corvin got out and she met his eyes with apprehension, worried he’d be angry.

“That’s why you’re the perfect friend,” Corvin said over the roof of the car, continuing their conversation as if a Taurus slammed his car door every day.

“No,” Livia said. “I’m not doing this.”

“Why not?” he asked.

“You’re going to fake me out,” she said. Also, you make me slam car doors, and cafeteria doors, and even house doors.

“I’m a lot of things, Liv, but a flake isn’t one of them,” he said.

Livia looked to Terrance. Maybe he would discourage Corvin. No true Caesarean would approve of her hanging out with Corvin.

He shrugged. “I have been disinvited from this conversation.”

Well, he was no help.

“Nope,” Livia said. “Not friends.”

“Okay, trial period? Thinking about being friends?” Corvin gave her a pleading look.

“I didn’t even know you were capable of making that facial expression,” she said.

Corvin doubled down. “Please?”

“I will think about thinking about being friends,” Livia said.

He laughed and so did Terrance.

“No promises,” Livia warned.

“I’ll take it,” Corvin said. “Miss thinking-about-thinking-about-being my friend.”

“Now, you’re mocking me,” Livia drawled. “Nice start, Corvin.”

“Never promised to be a perfect friend, just a reliable one,” he said.

Livia glared at him. “What is even your definition of being a good friend anyway?”

“I’ll think about it and get back to you.”

“No, I’m not into that,” Livia said. “Tell me now, gut feeling, without thinking about it. What does a good friend do?”

“Keeps your secrets,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “You?”

“Won’t ever lie to you,” Livia said. “Not even to protect you.”

Terrance interjected in a sardonic tone. “Hmm, you both sound like you’ve been betrayed.”

Livia looked at Corvin with surprise, realizing. He looked away.

“Let’s get that meter,” he said, stalking away.