Page 55 of Paradox
“Have you heard of 1984?”
“Yeah. I think so. It’s the world but they spy on you. Big Brother, right?”
“Exactly. This is the same kind of thing. Except less emphasis on the ‘what you can and can’t say’, and more on different people’s roles in society.”
“Sounds boring.”
“Yeah, well. You like Gran Turismo.”
“I can put these back.”
“No! I’m sorry.” I stand and walk to the table as Eden pulls the last book out. He starts picking them up one by one, then turns them to face me.
“They’re Shawn’s. I was gonna use them for kindling, but thought better of it and just turned them around—oh shit.” A book spins through the air like a pizza and lands right in front of me. “Guess I’ve got a type—fuck, that’s not what I meant… I mean, the only other people who’ve stayed here both have the same book.”
I reach over and pick up Taylor Swift's biography. "I've got nothing against her, but I'm not sure how much Shawn and I actually have in common."
“What’s the author's name? Huxley?” Eden reaches back across the table and spins Shawn's copy of Brave New World around so he can read it properly. "Aldous Huxley. Yep," he says, and shoves another book in my direction.
I take the book from his outstretched hand; The Island. I’ve never heard of it, but I hold it to my chest like a child afraid it’ll be taken away.
Eden continues to slide more books in my direction, then abruptly steps back from the table. I raise my eyes to look at him, but he's just staring down at the piles of books. “I’m, ah." He swallows, and takes another step back. "I'm gonna take a shower before dinner. Do whatever you want with these, just make sure they're put away.
I lower my head and tell him, "No worries."
The bathroom door closes, and I start going through the books one by one…
"Do you wanna eat outside again?"
The book I'm holding twitches in my hands at the sight of Eden in only his sweatpants. “Um, sure,” I reply hesitantly, repeating his words over in my head to make sure I understood them right.
“Do you think you could do the veggies tonight?”
“Alright… But can I use some things from the pantry?”
“Only if you use the old stuff in the back.”
“Don’t complain about what I do, okay?”
“You planning on poisoning me?”
“I plan on blowing your bland, no seasoning, white boy mind.”
“I use seasoning.”
“You didn’t last time.”
“You pissed me off so much I didn’t think you deserved it.”
“So you punished yourself as well?”
He smirks. “You need to stop pointing out the flaws in my logic.”
“You need to stop having so many flaws.”
The smile falls off his face, and I grip the book tighter in my hand.
“I won’t drink as much tonight.”
