Human (13 page)

Ivy bit her bottom lip and tried to look nonchalant for a moment. She failed. Despite the conflict in her heart, her shining eyes agreed before her lips did.

Back at the lab and buzzing with anticipation and coffee, Ivy tried to settle back into her routine of microscopes and research. It didn't work very well. Her effusion of energy was soon put to good use in the first year linguistics tutorial, however. Blank looks and a distinct aversion to discussing the week’s course material, told Ivy that old Harold had lost his students within the first five minutes. With a sigh, she started at the beginning.

A mountain of articles lay waiting for her after lunch and Ivy retreated to her small office. Jarring open the timber window frame with a book, the musty air was slowly replaced by a chilling afternoon breeze as she picked her way through notes with a highlighter. She distantly heard doors and windows being locked throughout the building. Other staff were escaping to their warm houses, families and lives. Ivy's life existed almost entirely in this small room, so there she stayed as it grew slowly darker outside her window and the full moon crept up.

What seemed like hours later, Ivy's frigid and tired body finally sunk into a hot bath. Steam fogged the wall mirror and the heavy scent of vanilla bath oil hung in the air. As she dozed in hot water, Ivy's mind was finally free to consider her encounter that morning with Orrin. Closing her eyes again and grinning, she sunk under the steaming water and disappeared beneath the bubbles, emerging a moment later and resting her head. She picked up her tired journal and pen from the old wooden clothes stand set next to the bath. Ivy propped it on her wet, bent knees and began to write.

Stepping out of the bath an hour later, she wrapped an oversized towel around her body and dried her hair with another. As she pulled her pyjamas on, Ivy's fingers brushed over the large strawberry birthmark high on her left leg. As a child she’d despised having such a prominent blemish. Now it was just
her
. Through the fogged mirror glass, Ivy's green eyes sparkled as she imagined Orrin tracing that mark with his rough fingers. Shaking her head in mock disbelief at her own foolishness, she padded out to the lounge room in dressing gown and slippers.

Faced with another long night of reading, Ivy curled up on the couch with a blanket and a stack of papers. Orrin's face stubbornly flickered in and out of her thoughts, distracting her research. Ivy squeezed her eyes closed, trying to clear her mind. Within ten minutes, she was asleep on the couch, a journal article across her smiling face and the rest fallen to the floor.

The stench of stale cigar smoke assaulted Ivy as she unlocked and pushed through Chuck Ellery's dungeon office door. The somewhat eccentric archaeology professor preferred to hide down here between lectures to deter the onslaught of student inquiries and administration requests, smoking thick cigars and defying as many school regulations as possible. A colourful, round Canadian with a neat beard and silver ponytail, Chuck was perpetually busy, overloaded with students to assist, papers to mark, curriculum to write and a lavish professional interest in digs throughout South America. As such, Ivy rarely saw him, and even less often got any assistance from him, but never asked for any. This alone made her his favourite, albeit entirely neglected, research student.

Although not strictly a dungeon - the rusty louvres at the top of the walls looked out into the shrubby gardens above - the large room looked dark and imposing with its cluttering of overcrowded book shelves and bizarre artefacts from the pokiest holes of the globe. Ivy ritually took it upon herself to entice a bit of sunlight and fresh air into the room whenever she dropped by; more so for the feeble scattering of pot plants than for Chuck himself. Leaving a scribbled note and a stack of marked undergraduate papers on his desk, Ivy let herself out again. The carved nameplate
'the dungeon'
smacked the dark wooden door as she left, echoing up the empty staircase behind her.

The contrasting brightness of the green courtyard was delicious and Ivy filled her lungs with crisp air. A fluttering lightness played within her as she wandered toward the Biology building. Although she still had a stack of work on her desk and an as yet, untouched, second box of artefacts from the Flores dig; it felt entirely criminal to be inside on such a beautiful afternoon. Being a Friday, with no classes to teach and only her faltering conscience to push her, Ivy figured a few hours of freedom with Kyah was in order.
I'll be working all weekend anyway. Except Saturday night…
Her mind wandered far and refused to return. As Ivy rounded the great jacarandas with their fallen shower of purple flowers, grinning at her own disreputable thoughts, she smacked straight into someone.

Orrin turned as well, caught off guard but smiling as he stuffed a string of headphones into his jeans. Ivy could hear soft classical music finishing.

“Is that-?” She dismissed the thought.
Of course it wasn’t.

“I was hoping I'd run into you today,” Orrin said, “Not literally maybe, but I'll take what I can get.” His eyes were casually suggestive and full of humour and Ivy blushed under the weight of them. “Actually, I’m lying,” Orrin said. “I saw you coming so I waited for you. Trying to fill my quota.” He shrugged.

Ivy ducked her head, laughing. “Catching me by surprise, right?”

“It’s a full time job.” Orrin's words teased, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “I actually wanted to confirm our date tomorrow night. You’re not going to stand me up, are you?”

Ivy met his doubt defiantly. “Of course I'm coming. I said I would.” Her fingers curled her long fringe behind her ear. “I’m looking forward to it, actually.”
A little too much.

Orrin smiled. “Brilliant. I couldn't decide where to go, so I thought… what about dinner at my place? It's not far from here - spectacular views of Port Phillip Bay. What do you say?” Before Ivy could answer, he added, “I'm deadly in the kitchen, well, I tell myself I am anyway.” His eyes searched hers intently for an answer. Orrin shifted slightly, and Ivy became critically conscious of just how close he was standing. “No expectations, just pasta,” he said, adding quietly, “Trust me.” There it was again.
Trust.
Why did they always want the one thing she couldn’t give?

Orrin's warm breath touched her face and Ivy felt her chest constrict. Her mind raced forward to the unspoken opportunities afterward, brushing heat underneath her pale skin.

“Your place… sounds great,” Ivy mumbled, barely breathing. “Dinner…”

Orrin pushed a folded piece of paper into her hand. “My address, then.”

She nodded, pushing it into her pocket with an odd frown. “Um… I'm a vegan.” Her chin rose and her arms crossed subconsciously in front of her waist. She fell back a step. Orrin grabbed her hand and pulled her gently forward again, deftly closing the space between them.

“That’s okay,” Orrin whispered with an amused smile. “I’m an Irish Catholic.”

His eyes swept her face, suddenly losing humour for intent. Orrin’s hand reached up at the same time as her own, hesitated and then pushed Ivy’s aside. He swept the runaway section of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. His fingers lingered against her jaw. Ivy's heart hammered in her chest as the outside world fell silent.

“So, my place then?” he breathed.

“Your place.”

“Brilliant.” With critical intention, Orrin trailed his fingers around the back of her neck. His touch burned the skin it traced and Ivy suppressed a shiver. The air between them felt heavy and fused with energy. The smell of cut grass and eucalyptus drugged her senses. Orrin pulled her minutely closer. She could feel him there, behind the layers of clothing that suddenly seemed too much and too heavy. His neck, his chest, those arms. Under the veil of her own fabric, every nerve ending ached and tingled. The burn that danced under his fingers turned inward, rushing from her nape to her breasts, then pooling deep within her. Orrin’s gaze swept across Ivy’s face down to her lips. Gravity tipped aside, drawing her instead to his body.

For an infinitesimal moment, Ivy felt as if she had nothing to lose. She leant forward, sealing Orrin’s lips with her own.

His mouth was soft and warm and tasted of coffee and spearmint. She felt his fingers fanning across her jaw and neck as he angled his head to the side meeting her, groaning softly.
Nothing to lose.
Draping one arm around his neck, Ivy pushed him very lightly with the other so that Orrin’s back hit the jacaranda. Her hand stayed still on his chest, but she could feel the firm line of muscle under his shirt, and beneath that, the steady, quick beat of his heart. She was enveloped in the scents of oak moss and fir. Ivy deepened the kiss, parting her lips and felt the soft intrusion of his tongue. She felt a hand glide up her side and grip tightly on her waist.
Nothing to lose. Everything to lose.
For the first time in what seemed like forever, Ivy began to lose herself.

“Ivy!” A loud voice called out from the other side of the courtyard, crashing the silence with a confusion of footsteps, talking and background noise. Ivy was suddenly aware of the busy footpath behind her and the scattering of students chatting across the grassy expanse. She looked up to see Liam standing on the far edge of the court with a handful of yesterday’s orange shirted ambassadors. He waved at her enthusiastically, beckoning her to join them.

Orrin pulled away, licking his lips. He ran his fingers through his hair, looking stung.

“Apparently you’re in high demand.”

“Apparently…” Ivy murmured, shooting Liam a scathing look. She offered Orrin an apologetic smile. “I'm so sorry. I'll definitely murder him later though. When there are fewer witnesses.” She ducked her head, stepping back carefully. “I’d better go.”

“Of course.” Disappointment tarnished Orrin's attempt at indifference. “Do me a favour though. Come by the Physics lab when you're done? I'd love to show you around.”

“Actually, I can’t,” Ivy said regrettably. “I’m on my way to see Kyah. She depends on our time together, it’s the only freedom she has.” Ivy hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip and waving dismissively to Liam across the expanse. Her fringe escaped and Ivy longed for Orrin to touch her again, but the moment was too far gone.

Orrin sighed, looking thoughtful. “Bring her then. I won't scare her with any equipment, she’ll be entirely safe - scout's honour.”

“Thought you weren't a scout?” Ivy smiled.

“Minor detail.”

“I don't know Orrin, she's easily scared. I think it's best if I don't. Laboratories aren’t great…”

“Trust me Ivy; it's not what you think,” Orrin said. “No formalin smell, no cages. Just a room with computers. I'm setting up a new trial today and I would love for you to see. Come on; indulge me, one more time.” The final thread of Ivy's resolve broke at the persuasion burning in his eyes.

“Why do I get the feeling you’ll be nothing but trouble for me?”

“Because maybe that’s exactly what you need,” Orrin grinned.

Ivy gave in. “Okay. Later this afternoon though. Dusk. That’s when I take her out - when everybody else is gone.”

“I’ll be waiting.”