Hidden in the Blood: A Novel of the Terribly Acronymed Detective Club (Book 5)

Chapter Fifteen: Al, Fall, 1998-Summer, 1999?

When Al met Agnes Chu in his Children's Programming course at Langara College, he'd already resigned himself to the fact that his relationship with Marnie Pruitt had ruined him for other women. 

He'd taken a long time to recover from being dumped, and the way she'd framed it, proudly, as if she'd imparted on him the skills necessary to make his own way in the world of dating and relationships, made it worse. For one thing, nothing had been natural about the way he and Marnie had come together; they'd been coworkers, forced to be with each other for eight hours a day, so Al had had no choice but to relate to her if only to be safe and successful at his job. For another thing, she'd been the instigator; Al would never have had the courage to even ask her out, much less put the moves on her. For another thing, they'd never gone on a single date, not in the conventional sense. They'd never gone to dinner or a movie, or even out for coffee. All they'd done was have sex, first at the gas station and then at her place. 

If he'd been a few years younger, it might have counted as grooming and exploitation of a minor, but for all his experience with sex up to that point, it might as well have been.

And yet, even if the relationship was unconventional, he had been in love with her; when Rachel asked him about it after they'd gotten together, he wasn't entirely honest when he told her he'd been relieved when it ended, that he felt like prey with her. The fact was, he liked being her prey, he liked her feasting on him, having her way with him. It felt exhilarating, having attention paid to him, being valued for his ability to perform in bed, acting like an adult. He'd watched The Graduate a few years after his relationship with Marnie ended, and was incredibly aroused by the way Mrs. Robinson seduced the younger Benjamin Braddock; it was a PG version of the way Marnie had seduced him, but at least he could finally relate to the way romance was portrayed in the media.

For years after, he missed her, and when he'd finally admitted the relationship to his parents, after his mother had lamented that he never went out and had a good time anymore, what happened to the girl he was dating, why didn't he bring her around, they'd been shocked (except maybe his father looked a little impressed but would never say it.) He'd tried the whole bar scene, going out with the Reis boys, but none of them ever worked up the courage to approach women, they were usually in groups as well, and the loud music and raucous behaviour of the other guests just made the whole thing intimidating.

He'd buried himself in school and work to distract himself from his loneliness, migrating from job to job, unable to find a good fit with his interests. When he finally decided to try the Library and Information Technology Diploma program at Langara College, it wasn't because he'd done a whole lot of research into careers and determined it would be the best fit. One day he'd walked into Coquitlam Public Library, where he normally went to study and check out books, and it just hit him: why not work in a place he loved visiting? He was already well versed in customer service, why not put it to use helping patrons find information and materials?

The commute was hard. He lived in Coquitlam, and Langara College was in the southwest corner of Vancouver. Multiple buses and Skytrain exchanges were necessary to get there, so he spent most of his day away from home. Away from his mother. Maybe that was a good thing, though he'd never admit it to her. Being on his own forced him out of his comfort zone, and the classroom setting forced him to interact with his classmates.

He didn't predict most of his classmates would be female. It had never crossed his mind. In the Children's Programming class, he was the only male. If that was supposed to make him feel confident, it didn't. He felt even more exposed, and his classmates didn't seem to notice he was there, anyway.

Except one. 

They were often teamed up to practice Storytime techniques, and Agnes Chu asked him more often than not if he wanted to pair up with her. He was relieved to not have to ask anyone else, so he always agreed.