"Part 1: Id

"Id" is the first in a series of interconnected short stories. They're good exercise, even if no one will ever read them.

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"Buck twelve."

He handed over the money to the cashier, who smiled at him. He liked knowing the people who worked at the places he shopped, even if it was casually. It helped him feel comfortable.

This is not to say he was very comfortable now, but it helped and that was the important thing.

He left the store with a wave, rolling his shoulders to get the tension out. He'd gotten the chocolate bar in a bag to keep it from melting his hands, knowing full well that nervous hands tended to warm and squeeze. He imagined that this unconscious response was unlikely to change simply because it was chocolate.

Her bright eyes were dull today, her smiling, attractive lips turned down. He felt so guilty looking at her from the corner of his eye most days, but he did rather than ignore the loudly nagging impulse. It was hard not to, actually, despite how flush he felt when he did. They had spoken some and he was impressed by her, her sweetness first, then her intellect. They had more in common than he believed likely, and he felt himself filled with the butterfly hormones and thoughts that he was sure had been left behind.

How irritating.

"Hey..." He waved casually, though he felt awkward, as he always did, with her especially. She was perched on the edge of a table, the rest of the class departed.

"Hey." She smiled briefly, faintly, and he could see the bags under her eyes. "What's up?"

"Not much, just wanted to see if you'd gotten some sleep." The both of them had the worst sleep patterns. It could be twenty solid hours before a four hour nap, then off to the races to wear themselves ragged.

She looked at him and slowly shook her head. He wished he could see what her eyes were conveying the way other people did. A neurological impairment made the interpretation of body language harder than anything had a right to be. But today he could see something... her eyes were shining with sadness, pretty and horrible at once.

He frowned.

"No, actually... me and my boyfriend of eight years broke up last night."

The id thought, "She's available."

The rest of him crushed that thought like a bug. What a horrible thing to think... how ugly and disgusting. He could hardly believe that it had come from him, because the rest of him felt for her. Frankly, he couldn't imagine anyone breaking up with her, and she looked so sad.

"Oh... wow, I'm so sorry... do you mind if I ask what happened?"

She said they were growing apart, and now that she was in college she was becoming more the person she was always going to be, and that they were simply too different to stay together.

She'd been sleeping on a couch. Were he in a position to do so, he would have blurtedly offered a place for her to crash.

After his initial, honest condolences, he weakly joked that the worst that could happen was that she would be the she-whore to some friends of her ex... he had no idea how to make her feel better. He was kicking himself all throughout this.

He wanted to offer her a hug. He didn't know if he could. He offered her instead to be there if she needed anything, though they didn't know each other so well. She nodded, and said she'd still be available as peer tutor, though he gently asked her to take it easy.

He felt awful that he had to go. He tried to offer his ear again, weakly joking that he'd felt the same thing: There was a she-whore in his life recently, after all. She laughed a strange, awkward laugh he couldn't interpret, and he waved quietly to her when they said goodbye.

He looked down at the bag. He wanted to make it up to her. He wanted her to feel better. But a part of him wanted to see if she'd notice him for it.

And as weak and as lonely as it was, he couldn't quite crush that impulse. But he was sure... he was so sure it wasn't born from that.

Right?