Freaks and Fortune

"Hey, Cal," I called as I walked through the door to the cabin.

A blast of cool air greeted me. It felt good against my forehead; damp from the summer heat. The cabin was messy, as usual. Clothes littered the floor, posters and pictures lined the walls. I had become comfortable here. It was like my home.

Cal was lounging in his hammock. His pajama bottoms were pushed up to his knees and he'd removed his shirt in the heat. He caught sight of me and started, his eyes widening. He yelped and scrambled around for something to cover himself with.

"Uh..." he muttered awkwardly.

I reached down and picked up a tank top off the floor. It looked like Aqua's, but I threw it to him anyway. He caught it and tugged it on over his bare chest. Unlike Aqua, he wasn't built like a swimmer. He didn't have ridiculously chiseled muscles or abs of steel... But he had a strong, slim physique. It was sort of nice.

"You've been drinking," I said, pointing to the silver flask in Cal's hand.

Cal reddened and hastily turned the cap on the flask. He pushed it under his pillow.

"No!" he protested. "Well... Yes. I mean, I only just started. I'll stop now."

I kicked off my shoes and nudged him over on the hammock. I settled down in the netting and wrapped one of his thick comforters around me.

"Why do you have a hammock?" I asked out of the blue, twirling a thread that stuck out of the bottom hem of my shirt.
"Huh?"
"The rest of us have beds. Why are you the only one with a hammock?"
"Jealous?" he teased.
"Yeah, a little," I said, laughing. "But mostly curious."

He sighed and shifted position to face me. He pushed his feet under the blanket I was using. His toes rested lightly against my legs. They were warm. Hot, almost.

"I guess it's because I always thought I was going to leave soon."
"You mean... Leave the circus?"
"Yeah. I always thought that I had to be ready to leave at a moment's notice. A hammock is easy to get rid of. Easy to pack away."
"Oh."

I looked down at my fingers and continued twirling the thread. Out of the corner of my eye, I could tell that Cal was discreetly surveying me.

"How'd it go with Anthony?"
"Good. Really good. I think I'll talk to Ravi tomorrow."
He smiled. "Am I invited?"
"No!"
"Somehow I knew that was going to happen," he chuckled.

I didn't know what to say after that so I continued looking at my hands. Cal began looking at them, too.

"You can control your... Uh... You can control your bending, right?" I asked, hesitant.
He nodded. "Why?"
"Just wondering."
"Oh. Okay."
"So why do you wear gloves?"

He sighed and played with the straps on his fingerless leathers. He looked at them and scowled, as if they represented some kind of handicap.

"I mean, if you control yourself," I continued awkwardly. "Then can't you just-"
"I can," he interrupted. "I can control my bending... But my body temperature..."
"Oh," I said, wanting to scoot away from him but deciding against it.
"It's not that bad. Only on my hands. My palms can get hot enough to set a fire, even without a flame."
"Oh," I repeated.
"When I get angry or excited or nervous... I could seriously hurt someone."
"Or drunk?" I asked, thinking about his odd behavior after he'd downed the purple cough medicine. "Or high?"
"Uh... Yeah," he said slowly. "But I'm not drunk now. Don't-"
"No, I know."

He fell silent.

"Hey, Cal?"
"Yeah, babe?"
"I like it when you're not being obnoxious."
"Gee, thanks."
"No... I mean... You know what I mean."

My curiosity made my stomach tingle.

"Does your face get hot, too?" I asked eagerly.

Without waiting for a reply, I placed my hand on his cheek and he flinched, pulling away from me.

"Yes," he answered. "No more experiments, okay? This is freaking me out."
"Really?"
"Yeah..." he muttered darkly. "I actually have to go-"
"No!" I protested, grabbing the strap of Aqua's tank top. "Stay!"
"Ivy-"

He stopped talking as I grabbed his hand. I tugged on the leather strap of his glove and yanked it off his hand.

"Woah!" Cal yelled. "Bad idea!"

He tried to worm his naked hand away from me, but I held on strong.

"Concentrate," I ordered. "Lower your body temperature."
"Ivy-"
"Concentration doesn't involve struggling!"

He stopped and stared at me in disbelief. He knew I wasn't going to let go. I was putting my health in danger but, somehow, I didn't feel like I was. I had faith in Cal, and I was trying to make him see that it was okay for him to have faith in himself.

He closed his eyes and I could immediately feel him grow colder. I wrapped my hand around his, lacing our fingers together. I pressed my palm against his. It was cold, lifeless. Cal was totally zen.

"My hands are a hot point," he told me, his eyes still closed. "They're usually the warmest."
"Do you have other hot points?"
"My lips. My chest, right over my heart."

I let go of his hand and slapped one palm over his heart. My fingertips reached up and lightly touched his bottom lip. He tensed, everything suddenly spiked in temperature.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice wavering.
"Just concen-"
"Ivy, get off, get off!" he cried, still trying to remain calm.

I could feel his heart jumping around. The heat in his lips became intense, his chest was sweating. Cal knew what was coming. He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, but it was no use. My hands were hurt in a rapid increase in his body temperature. His lips were as hot at a stove top, and his chest felt like an oven.

I gasped and pulled my hands away. Cal fell back into the hammock. Sweat beaded his forehead and his chest was heaving. I got up off the hammock.

"Cal, I didn't mean-" I began, but was cut off when he shot up.

He gave me a look so angry, I gasped. He snatched the glove from my hand and held it in his clenched fist. Wordlessly, he breezed past me, bumping my shoulder. He stomped, barefoot, through the cabin door and off across the fairgrounds.

Oops.