Page 53 of The Cat's Mausy

Once More on Monday

Dimitri was right where he had been every morning since Issac started being dropped off for school, paper coffee cup in one hand. Annoyed at the sight of the Cat’s car as it pulled around, he felt the knot in his chest loosen when he saw Issac roll out a few moments after it came to a stop. Friday had been an excruciatingly long wait of watching the tinted windows for only the barest of movement from the front seat, wondering what they were doing behind the glass.

He didn’t know what Issac’s deal was at the charity event Saturday. Whatever it was, it had to be bad for the Cat to resort to letting Dimitri take over showing Issac around with only the instruction to avoid all made men whenever possible. Not that he didn’t absolutely revel in doing it. He had been praying for the chance to introduce Issac to all of the political figures and connections Dimitri had made through the multiple events Papa had gotten him into. He’d be lying if it didn’t feel like his greatest fantasy come true for that hour to guide Issac from one connection to the next, stealing all the small touches he had craved for so long, watching Issac come out of his shell and charm the fuck out of every other person he met. The fact that the Cat- Mr. Drago- had spent the entire hour at a distance glaring at the back of his head had only made it better, honestly, because Dimitri knew that Issac belonged there, next to Dimitri and with the political world in the palm of his hand.

But it had all come crashing back down when he looked around to see Issac and the Cat gone from the table about halfway through the seated portion of the event. He didn’t know if he was more annoyed at Issac for leaving without saying goodbye or at Adrian for seeing the two leave and not saying a word until Dimitri noticed. Adrian. It was hardly the first time Issac had simply left without saying a word, and as frustrating as the habit could be, Dimitri was used to it.

He had spent Sunday going back and forth from trying to finish the assignments due before midnight and wanting to text Issac to ask for an explanation. A little part of him thought he should be proud that he didn’t. Issac had said Monday, and though Sunday had passed antagonistically slow, he wouldn’t push for an answer before Monday.

“Morning,” he said, falling into step with Issac as they walked.

“Morgen,” Issac said, his eyes slightly out of focus, then blinked hard and grimaced. “Did you get your assignments in?”

Dimitri tilted his head with a frown. “I did,” he said, deciding to let the moment pass. “Though I already know Young is going to rip my citations to shreds. I swear, that man hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Issac said rolling his eyes. “If he hated you, you wouldn’t be allowed in his class and if he was indifferent to you, he wouldn’t bother giving you detailed feedback.” They paused at the classroom door, a schedule for five-minute meetings during Young’s office hours taped to the metal surface.

“I guess,” Dimitri said, watching Issac write his name for the first available slot after their final class. He wrote his name immediately after. “Could… Could I take you to dinner after he finishes with me,” he asked, glancing down at Issac. “To talk about… everything?”

Issac let out a slow sigh. “Not dinner,” he said, not looking at Dimitri. “But… I’ll let him know that I’ll be running a bit behind and we can talk after. His brother is making pizza from scratch and I’m not missing that with how much they’ve all gushed about it when he made the dough yesterday.”

Dimitri felt himself smile even as his ego took the hit of being rejected once again. He hated not being the person Issac had needed for whatever he had going on. He hated even more that the person who filled that role was a cold-blooded killer who made men like his brother and Fritz nervous. But he couldn’t deny that he loved hearing Issac looking forward to eating something as simple as pizza. “Alright,” he said as they walked to their usual seats in the front of the room. “I guess I can’t argue with pizza made by Italians. But if they ever make stroganoff, I’m going to flip a table.”

A laugh escaped Issac, short and soft, but real. Dimitri thought he would burst. Had he ever heard Issac give a real laugh? He’d heard him laugh before, but they always came with a negative tone, a sound of pain that Dimitri could never understand the origin of. “Noted.”

Dimitri looked at Issac and wondered at all the changes that had happened in just a week’s time, wondered if he would ever fully understand what the truth was and what really happened to draw the person he had glimpsed for seconds at a time in the last seven years out into the open. He hated not being the person who brought on this change, but he was thankful to that person for doing it. Not that he’d ever say it to his stupid face.

* * *

Issac often heard that there were only two things a person could count on in life: death and taxes. Those people had never had to deal with someone like Dr. Martin Young. Young was in his early sixties and had the look of a man who hadn’t had one singular thing happen in life that didn’t at least mildly disappoint him. His students were no exception. Weirdly, for all of the things that Issac had put up with in his own life, Young’s frowning face as he glanced back over Issac’s work and citations was something of a comfort. The fact that he was comforted by the idea of someone who could still be disappointed in him was something he probably should add to the list of things he needed to talk about to the therapist Felinus mentioned yesterday.

“This isn’t as detailed as your usual work,” Young said finally, “but it does meet the requirements. You can continue to the next assignment.”

“Yes, sir,” Issac said, watching the old man lean back and look at him fully for the first time since he walked in.

There was a pause as the man pressed his fingers together. “Mr. Maus,” he said finally, “it is not my policy to pry into the lives of my students.”

One of the reasons you have always been my favorite,Issac thought, waiting for the “but” that always followed those sentences. It was, perhaps, too much to expect even a man like Young to not make some comment on the last week.

“The janitorial staff sent out a message to all faculty this morning to give a final reminder that anything left in the gym locker rooms will be thrown out after today,” he continued and Issac blinked. “I believe you use the gym regularly. I only mention it in case anything was left behind given your sudden change in personal schedule.”

Issac just stared at the man, perhaps for the first time in his life silent because he was speechless rather than choosing to stay silent. Young had, perhaps, just admitted to knowing there was more to Issac’s situation than suddenly having nicer things. He’d always assumed that Young didn’t care enough about what happened outside of his classroom to notice anything, but somehow he knew that, at the very least, there were more than physical changes going on in Issac’s life. He wondered if Young knew Issac had been homeless the entire time he was in his class or if he just assumed Issac used the gym every morning to save on a water bill. “Thank you for letting me know,” he said finally. “I’ll double-check to make sure.”

Young nodded, reaching for his mouse. “Send in Mr. Volkov on your way out.”

“He’s ready for you,” Issac told Dimitri as he stepped out of the office. “I need to go down to the gym to make sure I didn’t leave anything in there last week before they toss it out. I’ll meet you in the roundabout.”

Dimitri rolled to his feet with a grimace as he glanced at the door. “Nyet, I’ll meet you at the gym,” he said. “There’s only so many ways he can tell me I’m wrong. Why don’t you leave your bags with me in case you have anything?”

Issac’s hands tightened on the backpack straps, a knee-jerk possessiveness about his stuff surfacing even though he knew logically Dimitri wouldn’t do anything to harm or steal from him.

“How about just the lunch bag,” Dimitri suggested, seeming to notice Issac’s white knuckles. “It always looks obnoxious to carry both, though I get the reason. I can carry it.”

Issac made himself breathe out slowly and slipped the strap for the rectangular bag off his shoulder. It wasn’t really that bad after having to deal with the duffle and backpack combination everywhere he went except school, but carrying all three did seem like overkill if Dimitri was offering his help. He could accept that much from him at least. “I’ll see you down there then,” he said, putting the strap in Dimitri’s hand and turning away.

The locker room, like always, was empty when Issac walked inside, pulling Felinus’s scarf off his neck as the hot, sticky air of the room pressed in around him. One of the lights had burnt out, probably the reason for the early clean-out as Issac walked to the back corner where the beaten-up lock sat firmly shut on the metal door.

He put the combination in quickly and felt something shudder inside on the second number. The lock stayed shut and he sighed. It had been getting worse for a few months now but he hadn’t been willing to replace it. Another good lock would have cost too much, and anything less would just get broken the first time he looked the wrong way in a shelter.

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