DL Ch. 08 - A Trivial Thing

Hi. :) You are reading chapter 8 of my novel Divergent Limit. If you're new here, I'd recommend that you click on the series link at the top (on mobile) or to your right (on desktop) and start with the prologue (chapter 0). This series isn't a collection of loosely connected stories that can all be read in isolation, but one long narrative where each chapter keeps building on the previous one.

If you want to know whether the story is for you, I'd recommend that you read "Element 00 - Prologue", "Element 01 - A Hint Of Summer", and "Element 02 - I Hate Kurt Gödel". If you enjoy these three chapters, chances are you might enjoy the rest as well. And if you aren't interested at that point, I doubt that later chapters will change your mind.

Should you make it back here, say hello in the comments and let me know what you think. So far, a few people have started following me as I keep posting new chapters, but rarely anybody rates the story or comments on it. Your thoughts are very welcome! ;)

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Element 8 -- A Trivial Thing

Still November 8th, Saturday

"No, no, it's not just Eleanor fighting today."

Eugene was walking to her right, his arm swaying back and forth with every step he took. His hand was a perfectly predictable pendulum, predictable precisely until Claire made up her mind to reach for his palm. For reasons incomprehensible to her, he seemed to feel the need to gesture with his hand every time she was only a fraction of a second away from grabbing her nimble target.

"There will be twelve fights total, both women and men."

It seemed so simple. After they finished eating, she had deliberately walked beside him to his left, positioning her right hand within striking distance of his. Her left hand, after all, was still a bit greasy after eating her burger -- and stealing some of his fries.

"I think Eleanor's fight is the eighth."

She was left-handed, so naturally she would have preferred to hold his right hand with her left. But there were no fine-motor skills involved in handholding, so she settled for her less skilled but ungreasy right hand.

"Each fight is only three rounds. So don't expect this to be twelve rounds, like a heavyweight championship fight. They're fighting by K-1 rules, but don't ask me what that means."

He did it again! He shrugged, throwing his hands in the air in the process! She was doing her best to absorb all the information while she kept tracking his hand. She had no idea how many rounds professional boxers fought, nor did she care much. She only knew that his hand was coming down any moment now, and when it did, she'd grab it. Her anxious hand was curled into a fist as if she were about to throw a punch of her own. Then his shoulders relaxed and the raised arm began to fall. The arm, bent at his elbow, unfolded, and his hand was about to drop next to his thigh again. Her phone vibrated.

Eugene turned to her as she reached for her phone with a frustrated sigh. The moment had passed.

"Bad news?"

He sounded concerned, watching her read Emily's text with a disgruntled expression on her face. She shook her head.

"No, just Emily being... nosy."

Eugene snorted.

"Heh! I wouldn't be surprised if she later descended from the ceiling like in Mission: Impossible just to spy on us."

Claire tilted her head to the side and placed one finger against her lips as she took a moment to actually imagine Emily in a black spy suit rappelling from the ceiling. The more she thought about it, the wider the grin on her face grew.

"Emily took me bungee jumping once. So her dropping from great heights has precedent."

They both chuckled.

"What was that like? It sounds fun in theory to me, but I'm scared I might just end up vomiting."

The memory of the last time she had vomited briefly invaded her mind. Mark's basement, after... the second time. She pushed the memory away.

"Yeah, same for me. I feel a little sick just thinking about it again. But back then, I didn't dare say no to Emily."

"Why not?"

She smiled. She had no particular desire to go bungee jumping again, but she was nevertheless fond of the memory.

"Emily and I met during orientation. I had known her for only about two months when she asked me to go with her. I..."

She hesitated a second.

"I don't make new friends quickly. And I was glad to have found her. Moving here, living alone for the first time, and dealing with the surplus of guys in my field was a lot. Emily was like my anchor back then. Looking back, it sounds silly. But I was worried I'd lose her if I said I didn't want to go."

Eugene nodded.

"I get that. With Eleanor, I at least still have somebody I know from high school. Other than her, I don't really know many people that well yet. There's Ashley, but I know her mostly through Eleanor. And then there's Mark. We have a few courses together, but we haven't done much together yet outside of class. And of course, there's y... Claire?"

Claire had stopped dead in her tracks. There was no chance the Mark Eugene was talking about was the Mark. Mark was thirty. What would he even do in a course for engineering freshmen?

"Oh, uh... I was just thinking. Which class do you have with... him?"

Eugene's face did little to hide his confusion.

"You mean Mark? Introduction to Newtonian Mechanics. We're in Emily's section together. But if you have a Mark in one of your sections, I doubt that's him. He has no Eleanor to bully him into taking the 'real' math courses instead of those designed for engineering majors..."

Claire breathed a sigh of relief. If a 30-year-old Mark was attending Emily's section, she would have told her.

"Oh, okay. Must be a different Mark then. It's a pretty common name, after all."

Claire began to walk again, and so did Eugene.

"Sure... So..."

Eugene was visibly searching for something to say.

"What about this old friend of yours? Jason, right? Wasn't he there too when you were new here?"

Things between her and Jason had returned to normal after the incident on Monday. But despite there being no visible difference from before, something still felt off.

"Oh yeah, he was, he still is. But unlike Emily and me, we didn't share any courses at all. Maybe I should've taken a page out of Eleanor's book and forced him to take a real statistics course instead of whatever knock-off version they're teaching psychologists."

She could hardly imagine Jason making it through a more advanced statistics course. She had barely managed to help him through his regular one. And yet, she found some delight in picturing him suffering as he tried to actually prove the unbiasedness and consistency of an estimator, and not just apply it. A mischievous grin spread across her face. But who was she kidding? It'd be fun to see him sweat for maybe two weeks, and then she'd teach him after all.

Eugene's cackle pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Heh! I didn't know there was a little sadist behind that pretty face."

So he did find her pretty. Hopefully, she didn't blush.

"Are you kidding? Why else become a TA if not to legally torture unsuspecting freshmen under the noble pretense of higher education?"

She wagged her finger at him. Eugene raised his hands in playful defense.

"I see. Then I better tread lightly around the likes of Emily and you."

She saw the bright smile on his face and his kind blue eyes not shying away from her. His pupils were dilated.

"You better. Prolonged exposure bears the risk of learning and enjoying math. And we can't have that, can we?"

More and more people were crossing their path as they got closer to the venue for the fights, the Riverton College field house.

"It's a high risk, but I'd be willing to expose myself to..."

Then he abandoned the joke with a sigh, followed by an expression she couldn't quite read. This time, he was the one who stopped.

"What's wrong?"

He shook his head, now looking visibly amused.

"Nothing, just... I've been simply enjoying myself. Lately, everything I've been doing has been so... tense, even the good stuff."

She knew exactly what he meant. He was hiding his hands in his pockets now, looking less sure of himself, but he didn't have trouble finding the words he wanted to say.

"I didn't really notice that until just now. But..."

She saw him make a deliberate effort to hold eye contact.

"Enjoying myself with you... I think I needed that more than I realized. So... thank you."

There was no joke, no insincerity, no sign of performance in his voice. Her face softened as she saw him standing there. She was content to let a fleeting silence linger between them and feel his grateful eyes on her.

"It's... it's similar for me. Recently, I've..."

For a moment she wondered if telling him what she truly felt was appropriate, but then she decided to go through with it.

"I've been nothing but a burden to my friends."

If he was confused, his face didn't show it. Nor did he interrupt her.

"So... hearing you say that you enjoy having me around, and don't just... endure... me..."

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, opened them again, and finished her sentence.

"... that makes me feel a little less... useless."

She watched him watching her. First, she could see him thinking: the narrowed eyes, the furrowed eyebrows, the hands clenching in his pockets. As he seemed to come to a conclusion, his face and posture relaxed. He pulled his hands out of his pockets, stood a little taller; his eyes opened just the tiniest bit more, and the faintest trace of a gentle smile lit up his whole face. His words were barely more than a whisper, not because he didn't dare to say them out loud, but because he didn't need to.

"You're no burden to me."

Eugene was suddenly difficult to see as he turned into a blurry mess in front of her eyes. She hung her head and saw that her boots were blurry as well. She realized she was crying only when she saw her own tears fall to the ground.

"Do you want a hug?"

Eugene's voice reached her through the fog. She hesitated a second, then nodded while she was frantically wiping her tears away.

Eugene wrapped his arms around her and pulled her toward him. He held her tight. She let her hands and face rest against his chest as she cried. For a moment, she wished they weren't wearing their winter coats.

When she calmed down, she looked around her, becoming fully aware of the people walking past them to the field house. A lot of students, but also quite a few older people, some of them carrying expensive-looking cameras. Despite the close hug, the other pedestrians didn't seem to pay them much attention, probably thinking this was just a normal hug between boyfriend and girlfriend.

"I'm sorry for making a scene like that."

She apologized in a nasal tone. Eugene stroked her head. His touch was barely noticeable, just the tips of his fingers gliding through her hair. He cleared his throat.

"A wise woman once said to me: 'Even if I don't fully understand what's going on, I know something hurt you. I got that much. What's wrong with showing that?'"

Claire took a step out of the embrace, reestablishing some distance between them. She giggled while she was reaching for a tissue in her purse.

"So you've already learned the importance of citing your sources. Didn't think you'd use that against me!"

She wiped the tears off her cheeks.

"When last we met, I was but the learner. Now I am the master! Muahaha!"

She wasn't the biggest Star Wars fan, but even she knew that quote.

"Yeah, right."

She rolled her eyes.

"Hey, don't write me off so easily. For all we know, I could be the next Knödel!"

Claire broke into laughter in the middle of blowing her nose.

"Gödel."

She corrected him. Eugene just shrugged, seemingly indifferent to his crime against the Austrian logician. Then he unzipped his coat and reached inside.

"Anyway, here's your ticket. Should we head inside?"

She took the ticket out of his hand. For a fraction of a second, her fingers brushed over his.

"Yeah, let's. What do I owe you?"

Eugene shook his head.

"Nothing."

"Eugene, come on. You don't need to pay for me."

Eugene zipped up his coat again.

"No, no. I meant that literally. Eleanor's gym is not just participating but hosting the fight night. I got these tickets through her, for free. So I paid literally nothing. Besides, you said 'your treat'. You're a TA rolling in money."

Then he pointed at himself with both hands.

"And me? I'm just a poor freshman. If you're offering free food, I'm sure as hell not saying no!"

Claire put the tissue back into her purse.

"Rolling in money my ass! I'm pretty sure I offered to buy you coffee, not free lunch for life."

They resumed walking toward the field house while they kept chatting.

"But more importantly, Knödel is actually German for dumpling. Not sure what that means for your aspirations..."

"That just gives my claim that I could be the next one even more credibility!"

"You'd make a cute dumpling. Fun fact, by the way, there's also this thing called Knödel numbers in math, but... that's unrelated to Gödel. They were just named after Walter Knödel."

"Poor guy. Who wants their last name to be dumpling?"

They showed their tickets at the entrance and headed inside, hands still unheld.

The field house seemed crowded to Claire. At first, she thought she had simply underestimated the popularity of kickboxing, but when Eugene turned out to be surprised too, she quickly realized that this event was bigger than just some local fighting competition. When she took a closer look at the crowd, she saw signs that confirmed her suspicion.

The people with cameras turned out to be journalists, at least a few of them. Some just seemed to walk around and take pictures. But others were unmistakably interviewing the students, asking them whether they were here to support Eleanor and what their thoughts were regarding the Robertson scandal. She even overheard one journalist introduce herself as a reporter from The New York Times. Claire just hoped nobody would ask her about her opinion on the matter.

But the large share of young women among the audience, many even younger than her, was even more striking. She recognized a few from the sections she taught, especially from her linear algebra section that Eleanor attended. Others she recognized from courses she had taught in previous semesters. Despite the surprising number of familiar faces, there were even more girls she had never seen before, likely because they had no connection to any STEM major.

To her, Robertson had been a mentor, an aspirational figure. Learning that he had raped Eleanor had been destabilizing, especially after her own experience with Mark. She hadn't given much thought to what the situation looked like for an ordinary student. Now that she was taking a moment to consider it, she didn't find it hard to imagine.

'One in six women has experienced attempted or completed rape'; 'One in three victims report the assault': she knew the facts by heart at this point. Of course, she didn't need to remember the numbers to know that the looming threat of sexual violence was a lingering constant in every woman's life. But if she translated the statistics into lived reality, she could only wonder how many silent stories like her own were gathered in this room to watch Eleanor's fight, the fight of the woman who had publicly accused her rapist -- and won.

Claire was waiting for Eugene to return from the men's room. She had taken a quick trip to the restroom herself, less because she needed to pee than to properly wash her slightly greasy hand. She wasn't sure if Eugene actually had to go or just needed a moment upon learning that the ring had been set up in the middle of the basketball court. The last time she had asked him about basketball, he had stormed out of the Infinite Pint. She remembered him suddenly sweating and growing pale. She still didn't know what that had been about, but basketball was clearly a touchy subject.

The rest of the court was almost entirely covered by white folding chairs. Their tickets allowed them to sit close to the ring with the team from Paragon Combat Sports, Eleanor's gym. But until it was Eleanor's turn, they had decided to watch from the wide concourse encircling the court above the bleachers. Claire was now leaning on the railing, her coat draped over it, as she watched the second bout of the night. The first had come to an end just as they had arrived.

Claire lacked the insight to really understand who was winning. Two relatively small but well-trained men were facing each other. At first, they seemed cautious. They were quick on their feet as they circled each other. They looked a bit like they were dancing. Then the black guy closed in on the redhead and started pummeling him. The redhead stumbled backward as he tried to land a few punches and kicks of his own. This process seemed to repeat again and again, coming to a temporary end only when the referee decided to separate the two men whenever they started to cuddle at the edge of the ring.

A murmur went through the crowd, and Claire had to briefly look away. A strong kick had landed directly in the redhead's face. The impact was accompanied by a loud thud that left little to the imagination.

"That sounded painful."

She turned her head. Eugene was back. He had taken his coat off too, revealing a DragonForce hoodie underneath. He stood to her right and leaned on the railing as well. Of course he chose the wrong side.

"Yeah, I think he's bleeding. Can he keep fighting like this?"

She looked up at Eugene's face as she asked. It lasted only a second, so she wasn't sure, but had he just checked out her ass?

"If the referee thinks the fight's too dangerous for ginger boy, he can call it off even if he hasn't been knocked out yet. But I can't tell you if that will happen here."

The fight continued, only for the first round to come to an end mere seconds later.

"Literally saved by the bell, I guess."

Eugene commented. His hand was so close now, his arm resting perfectly still directly beside hers. All she needed was a tiny push and...

"Speaking of redheads, who's she?"

Eugene pointed at her purple sweater. She looked at the anime girl printed across her chest.

"That's... Makise Kurisu. She's one of my favorite characters."

Eugene smiled.

"She looks cool. I think I've seen pictures of her before. Should I watch the anime?"

She had to think for a second.

"Hmm, I think the humor would be right up your alley, but..."

She had made a decision. She took a step back and walked around Eugene.

"... if you're bothered by mangled science in time travel stories..."

Eugene turned his head as he tried to follow her with his eyes.

"... then you better skip this one."

And she stopped in the perfect position, just to his right. Eugene was visibly amused.

"Anything wrong with your old spot?"

"There... there was a draft."

Eugene held out his hand where she had been standing until seconds ago.

"I don't feel anyth..."

A familiar voice interrupted them.

"Hi!"

Ashley chirped in her high-pitched voice as she approached them with Eleanor in tow. The two of them couldn't have looked more different. The girly Ashley in her pink off-the-shoulder top and her black pleated miniskirt radiated pure enthusiasm. Meanwhile, Eleanor approached them with a stern expression on her face. She was wearing black track pants, a black sports bra, and an open jacket with her face hidden beneath its hood. She looked as if she was about to beat someone up -- only for Claire to realize that this was exactly what she was here for.

Eugene waved at them. Ashley was immediately busy gifting free hugs, whereas Eleanor cautiously pulled back her hood and took a quick look around. Then she addressed them both.

"Hey. I can't stay for long. My coach didn't want me to go out at all before the fight. But I wanted to at least say hello."

Claire was relieved to hear that Eleanor didn't mind her being here. She had wanted to show her support, but was worried that the sheer number of people reaching out to Eleanor would be overwhelming. But what was she supposed to say now? Bringing up Robertson, even indirectly as part of complimenting her bravery, didn't feel appropriate.

"I like your hair. You look very pretty with that long braid."

She had never seen Eleanor wear her long black hair like that. Usually, she wore it loose. It gave her tall stature a distinct femininity, not girly but elegant. For a moment, Eleanor looked surprised. Then she playfully tossed her head, making her braid fall over her shoulder. She put it on display on her palm.

"You think so? It's actually more of a practical thing for the fight than a fashion choice. Long hair can easily become a nuisance."

That made sense, but it didn't change her opinion.

"I still think it's very cute!"

"Thanks!"

Ashley chimed in.

"I didn't know you were into kickboxing, Claire. Or anime."

Ashley had noticed her sweater as well.

"Oh, I..."

Fortunately, Eleanor saved her.

"Relax, guys. You don't need to pretend that you've been passionate about kickboxing all along. I appreciate you coming either way."

Claire smiled at her.

"So, uh... Is this your outfit for your fight?"

Both Eleanor and Eugene chuckled.

"No, no jacket, no track pants. Just shorts and a sports bra. And of course, no..."

Eleanor raised her leg.

"... shoes. That wouldn't end well."

Claire remembered ginger boy getting kicked in the face. Imagining the same kick with shoes wasn't a pretty sight.

Eugene had been quiet so far, but now he had something to say. Meanwhile, the second round of the fight started, providing their conversation with an undercurrent of cheers, collective gasps, and the occasional blow loud enough to cut through the ambient noise of the crowd.

"Before we spend all our time imagining broken noses... do you two want to come over to our place sometime and watch that anime Claire is so shamelessly advertising?"

Eugene exchanged a look with Eleanor. She nodded. Ashley's eyes lit up. She clapped her hands together.

"I'm in! We're binging this bitch!"

Technically, this would mean going home with Eugene on their second date. But would watching Steins; Gate with everyone even count as a date? The others would be there. If this were Emily planning the evening, she'd expect everybody but Eugene and herself to miraculously cancel last minute. But that wasn't Eugene's style.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

Eugene nodded.

"Cool! Bring Emily and Jason as well, if they want to."

She was surprised.

"You want me to invite Jason?"

Eugene shrugged.

"Yeah, why not? Spares me the fate of ending up alone surrounded by girls."

Ashley laughed.

"You make that sound like some horrible punishment!"

Eugene smirked.

"It might sound nice on paper, but I know my limits!"

They talked for a few more minutes. Eleanor was trying her best to explain a thing here or there, but for Claire, the fighters were moving too fast, and the various punches and kicks came in such close succession that it was hard for her to categorize them and assess their purpose. Eugene was watching the fight in silence, happy to let Eleanor do the talking. He was absent-mindedly twirling his curls around his index finger, which made Claire smile in delight. Ashley, meanwhile, was on a completely different mission, swooning over the winning fighter's abs. Ginger boy eventually ended up lying on his back, bleeding from his battered nose. He wasn't unconscious, but he was nevertheless counted out by the referee, ending the fight in a KO.

The flash of a camera burst their little bubble. A middle-aged man in a white shirt had taken a photo of them. Claire saw him standing below on the court. He pointed at them, showing their position to a woman whom she presumed to be his colleague. Eleanor let out an annoyed sigh.

"I better get going. It won't help my chances if my coach kills me before the fight begins. If you want to, I can take your coats with me and put them in my locker?"

Claire and Eugene shared a quick glance. Then Eugene responded.

"Yes, thanks! We're rooting for you. Break a leg!"

Eleanor grinned as she took their coats from them.

"Hopefully not mine! Claire, let me know next time you go to the gym again. We could go together."

It had been a while since Claire had gone to the gym, but she had indeed run into Eleanor there a couple of times before.

"Let's do that! Going together gives me some extra motivation to get my ass off the couch!"

Eleanor gave her a thumbs-up, then turned to Ashley.

"Come with me. I could use some help carrying the coats."

Ashley looked confused as she was about to hand her coat to Eleanor too.

"What? Why? It's just three coats."

Eleanor rolled her eyes, grabbed Ashley, and pulled her along.

"Bye, guys! Have fun!"

Eugene and Claire said their goodbyes as Eleanor was already on her way, berating Ashley, who followed her reluctantly.

"Do I really need to explain to you what cockbl..."

The announcement for the next bout swallowed her voice as she walked away.

The moment they left, the photographer began to follow Ashley and her. Claire looked to Eugene.

"I don't like leaving her alone like that."

Eugene leaned back on the railing, following Eleanor with his eyes for as long as he could.

"I feel the same way. But there's nothing we can do. Her going back to her coach is the best she can do if she wants privacy."

Now that it was just the two of them again, the next bout didn't register much with Claire. The fighters looked taller and bulkier than the guys from the previous fight, and one of them had walked out to a song she actually knew. But after that, she didn't remember much, not even who won in the end.

She was watching Eugene, or to be precise: his hand, the elusive beast she had been chasing this whole evening. She saw him hold his stomach while he laughed, sheepishly scratch his nose when he wasn't sure if one of his silly jokes landed, and play with his pretty curls without even noticing it himself.

She wasn't nervous anymore. Though that wasn't entirely correct. She was still excited to take his hand. But she was no longer scared.

What was the worst that could possibly happen? In the grand scheme of things, holding this doofus' hand wasn't difficult if she really wanted to, no matter how much he gesticulated. She had seen Eleanor shoulder so much. She was sure Eugene was carrying his own burdens even though she knew little about them. And she, she had been kidnapped and raped a mere two weeks ago, but was now standing here, overthinking, laughing, making plans for the future, and seeking happiness despite it all.

Even if, against all available evidence, Eugene didn't want to hold her hand, she'd be able to handle that too. In the end, reaching for his hand was a trivial thing. And yet, she didn't mind that the thought alone made her heart flutter.

Eugene was about to run his hand through his hair. But before he could do so, Claire stood on her toes, stretched out her arm, and snatched his hand, preventing it from making contact with his scalp. She pulled his arm down, laying it beside hers on the railing, and interlocked her fingers with his to keep his hand where it belonged -- in hers.

She watched him out of the corner of her eye. Eugene just stood there, silent, his mouth agape. She didn't know what Eugene's hopes and plans had been, but he clearly didn't expect her to intercept his hand while it was hovering right in front of his face.

"If you don't like it, say something. Otherwise, that's mine now until the end of our date."

Usually, Eugene's eyes looked observant. She liked how they softened when he was being kind to someone, which was precisely what they were doing now.

"I'll leave it in your hands then, free of charge."

He squeezed her hand back, just a little, with the same tenderness that accompanied his smile.