Escapism (The Escapism Series)

© Copyright 2007, 2011 Maria Dee.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

Escapism is a work of fiction and does not reflect the lives of actual people.

Escapism is a fictional novel with references to the following actual places: York University, Ryerson University, Osgoode Station, Queen and John Street.

Canadian Intellectual Property Office (CIPO):

Registration Number: 1050523

Date of Registration: July 24, 2007

The United States Copyright Office

Registration Number: TX 7-447-929

Date of Registration: November 15, 2011

Cover image provided by vita khorzhevska

The Escapism Series (Book #1) Second Edition 2012

To my ninth grade English teacher, Ms. Ezer, for being one of the first to foster my creativity with positive feedback on my short stories.

To my twelfth grade teacher, Ms. DeLuca, for nurturing my writing when I was most confused.

Table of Contents

Prologue

I wondered how it was possible in my nineteen years of life to have been so oblivious to my inherent gift—if that’s what it was. This was the first day that I realized the life I led was anything but ordinary. I ignored all unusual things, such as my vivid daydreaming and what felt like astro travel up until the night I met a Diplozoe traveling through Landon’s twentieth birthday party. We had met before—
I was sure of it
.

  He lurked from behind the crowd as Landon blew out his birthday candles, all twenty of them. His friends cheered him on while I looked over every so often at the mysterious, tall and striking guy—I wished I knew his name.

   He smiled and approached me.

  “Xenia,” he said with great relief as he lured me aside with his presence. “I am ready to travel,” he whispered as he held out his hand, waiting patiently.

  “Excuse me? Travel where?”
I was oblivious at this time
.

  “To Styx,” he replied. “You’re Xenia, right?”

  “Yes, but I think you have me mistaken for someone else.” I anxiously took a step back.

  “I’m searching for my missing...” he trailed off, taking note of my cluelessness. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. You really don’t know why I am here, do you?”

  “No, sorry, I don’t.”

  He stood for a moment, bewildered.

  “And you are?” I asked.

  He grinned and held out his hand. I hesitantly placed my hand in his. Everything changed in a split second as light flickered before my eyes and I saw us both someplace in a different time—I remembered him.

  “
Nicholas Wyles
,” I said, astonished.

  “Welcome, my
Charon
.”

  In my first year of college, I found out I was a Diplozoe and, on top of that, a Charon to Nicholas, an Online traveler. And here I thought my life was mediocre.

Someone New

Xenia (Offline):

At first, the persistent beeping delivered a bolt of panic that shook me to the core of my being, but with time, it became melodic and familiar. I remained motionless in an unfamiliar world, but moved freely in another, unsure of where I was held, as the sounds were abstract and distant. My senses gradually heightened as I adapted to the unfamiliar environment. I could smell pine and chlorine and, at times, a faint floral smell. I wondered what the next day would smell like.

  I felt the warmth of skin against my hand, resting within my grasp. I couldn’t control what usually happened next—flashing lights and everything around me seemingly quaked in the process. I dimly saw him on the other side—a flashing vision in my mind. He held out his hand in a final attempt to reach me as I transitioned to a mystified portal of in-betweeness to an enlightened world—
Online
.

  I gasped for breath and immediately checked my bare hands as I got up and out of bed to the bothersome ringing of my alarm clock. Have you ever had a dream that seemed so real, when you woke up you questioned your entire existence? I have and on more than one occasion. Imagine if the place you just woke up from made your reality appear insignificant—what would you do?

  I made my way over to the bathroom to wash my face after slipping on my favorite fuzzy slippers—the ones my mother referred to as little mops of bacteria.

  I looked intently in the mirror, faced with a perplexity greater than the prior morning. It left me slightly dumbfounded. What a great way to start my day. Everything in my life up until that moment had been painfully ordinary. I knew that everything was about to change.

  I splashed warm water on my face and looked up at my reflection. Usually my hazel eyes were separated by spokes of gray. However, in this light, each iris was an agglomeration of hazel and gray liquid surrounding my dilated pupils. I felt unusually excited. I rested my hands against the cool marble counter while the water ran freely, swirling and gurgling down the sink. Everything felt real—it had to be.

  My silver Cyclopod—the latest in mobile phones—vibrated on the counter, snapping me out of a trance. It was the last day of summer break before university commenced, and my friend Calliope had already reverted to her old high school ways. I tapped the solo eye in the middle of the screen to retrieve Calliope’s video text.

  “No one will be at school on the first day,” Calliope responded, disinterested in my earlier request for a carpool.

  I VT’d back, “Seriously? We can’t skip, Cal.”

  I placed my Cyclopod back on the counter and brushed my long, dark brown hair, thinking about what the day would be like and how the last night of summer break would unfold. I had overheard a few seniors gossiping around campus about the ultimate party of the year—undoubtedly, the perfect way to mark our rite of passage into university.

  I dried my hands and face and followed the aroma of freshly brewed coffee downstairs. I poured some coffee into my favorite mug while my mother read the daily paper in her creaky rocking chair on the back porch. I hollered good morning and shuffled back upstairs to take a shower.

  This would be my first year attending university in Toronto, the provincial capital on the northwestern shore of Lake Ontario. My mother, Chrysanthe Sanders, was ecstatic that I had decided to stay in Toronto. Her dream was for me to follow in her and my father’s footsteps by attending Osgoode Law School. My father had always supported my decisions and continually evolving aspirations, whereas my mother’s vision of my future remained fixed. In her eyes, I was already a lawyer. She strategically left LSAT study guides around the house and ceased to entertain the notion that there might be something else in the work force more suited for me. Marlon Sanders was a great father, aside from being a workaholic criminal lawyer, just like my mother.

  I’d never really had any desire to study abroad because I loved Toronto’s rich culture and diversity. I was born and raised in fast-paced Toronto, but as a child, everything moved slowly enough to appreciate the simpler things about life. I experienced the subtleties as autumn rolled into winter—the red, green, and brown maple leaves darkening each day while covering the sidewalks on my walks to school. I spent countless hours outdoors with friends in green parks surrounded by crisp autumn breezes followed by the smell of cool breezes while skating in winter. Each season’s particular sight, smell, or feel was always within our grasp. Generally speaking, I couldn’t have asked for anything more. My parents and I lived happily in a creaky two-story house in central Toronto big enough for a family of five.

  I hadn’t chosen a direct path in life because I was only nineteen and just entering my first year of university. My courses ranged from business and economics to natural science and humanities electives—all of which seemed interesting on paper. I was extremely fortunate because my two best friends also had chosen to attend York University. Each of us had different majors, but we had plenty of down time between classes. Calliope and I had Fridays off, but Marla had screwed herself over when she switched out of her half-year psychology elective into a required full-year natural science course that she had forgotten about. Marla was absolutely furious when she had seen her schedule a few days earlier. On top of having to attend school on Fridays, she had to register for a three-hour lecture at eight o’clock in the morning followed by an hour-long tutorial—that pissed her right off.

  At five feet six inches, Marla was the shortest of us. Her long dirty-blonde hair was straight and her eyes smoldered dark coffee brown. Spokes of orange converged at the rims of each iris. At times, she talked more than I could listen, but I couldn’t imagine life without her.

The fitness facility’s open house was one of the more appealing campus orientation events for freshmen. Having neglected most of the social orientation events, at the very least, I signed us up for a campus tour in the afternoon.

  Once on campus, I parked in front of the gym in the spacious parking lot that would soon become congested once classes commenced.

  Generally speaking, morning was the perfect time to hit the gym because of the low occupancy and the wide array of available fitness equipment. Treadmills one through six—the newer models with fans—were all in use, but number four had a few openings. I had signed up for eleven thirty on treadmill number four, but as I approached the treadmill, some guy was still using it. At first, I thought he would cool down and get off after I had finished my preliminary warm up, but he stayed on it. It seemed as though he had even accelerated.

  I confronted him. “Hi, excuse me. I’m signed up for
now
.”

  He continued to run without as much as a glance my way.

  “
Excuse me!
You’re cutting into my time. I signed up for eleven thirty.”  

  He continued at the same pace, sweating profusely, but turned to face me.

  “Are you going to get off or what?” I asked.

  He removed his earphones and, out of breath, replied, “I signed up...for eleven thirty... sorry, I think you are...mistaken.”

  I was beyond furious. I decided to check at the front counter again. Just as I thought, I was right. I walked back to the opposite side of the gym, increasingly irritated.

  “I was right.
I
signed up.
You’re
cutting into
my time
,” I exclaimed.

  He smiled and, although he was really cute, he was getting on my nerves. I pulled the safety key off the screen and he bumped into the treadmill as the motor halted abruptly.

  “Hey! You didn’t even let me cool down!”

  “Oh, I think I gave you more than enough time. Go walk around the gym for your cool down.”

  He smirked and wiped the sweat off his forehead as he stepped off. I started warming up while he wiped the machine down with a disinfectant.

  “What’s your name?” he asked lightheartedly.

  Still annoyed by his lack of consideration, I ignored him as I turned up the volume on my Cyclopod. Eventually, he left and I got in my twenty-minute jog. As I was cooling down, he startled me by appearing beside me, leaning on the screen. He stood over six feet tall. His upper body towered over the screen.

  “How was your run,
Xenia
?” he asked, apprehensively. He ran his hand through his short, dirty-blond hair. I made an internal memo from then on to sign up using an alias, or better yet, Calliope so as not to forget.

  “It could have been better.”

  “Listen. Sorry about the timing incident. I’m Landon, by the way,” he held out his hand as a peace offering.

  “I’m Xenia,” I corrected, as it wasn’t a common name.

  Since he appeared genuinely apologetic, I lightened up.

  “I’m sure you’ve already heard about a major party going on tonight. It’s my birthday-party-slash-end-of-summer shindig. It’s kind of a big event around campus. You and your friends are officially invited,” he said, winking playfully. His eyes were the color of the sky on a clear summer day.

  “Oh. So you’re the guy throwing the killer party?”

  “Word travels fast on campus, huh?”

  “So it seems,” I replied with a smile.

  I couldn’t stand people cutting into my workout, but the aggression had subsided and I felt a sudden change in mood. I was pleasantly delighted.

  “But you don’t even know me.”

  “Why don’t we change that?” he smirked a bit.

  I bit my lower lip in an unsuccessful attempt to suppress a smile. “Where’s the party at?”

  Landon seemed content with my change of mood. “Styx Nightclub. There’s a lounge on the second level and a club on the main floor. The lounge is reserved for my party.”

  “Nice.” I was thrilled by the invitation. My first official college party— very exciting!

  “Just bring you, your friends, and an appetite. It’s going to be sick,” he said while tapping the treadmill screen as I cooled down.

  “Cool. I can’t wait,” I responded before taking a sip of water. He winked and nodded favorably before walking toward the stack of weights. I opted to head off to the girl’s locker room since I was still sore from my last workout.

  After I showered and changed, I VT’d Marla and Calliope as we were meeting soon for the campus tour. I was surprised to find Landon waiting for me out in front. I couldn’t help but grin when I saw him. He looked down at his shoes and periodically up at me, smiling, as I approached.

  “I was just heading to get some coffee. Uh...would you like to join me?”

  “Yes!” I replied, abruptly disregarding my scheduled plans. “I mean
no
.”

  “I see,” Landon whispered, disheartened.

  “It’s not that I don’t—I can’t,” I stammered. “I have to meet some friends, but you’re welcome to come with. We’re doing the whole tour thing around campus.”

  “No way! I could’ve given you a tour. I’m a sophomore—experienced and all,” he said proudly. “You can’t pass up on a guy with experience.” He bit his lip nervously. “Not that kind of experience...but it’s not that I’m not.” He rubbed his temples with his right hand, attempting to clarify himself once more. “I know all the best places to eat around campus. The best study spots—and the best pubs.”

  I giggled and replied, “I’m sure I’ll need another tour. This campus is huge, and I can’t pass up on a free tour now, can I? Especially me—I can’t tell north from south at times. I only know where the campus mall is aside from the gym, and that’s because shopping calms my nerves.”

  Landon smiled, moving to clear the walkway for passing students.

  “I could use some shopping right about now,” I said.

  “So could I,” he smiled, nervously.

  Marla and Calliope showed up surprisingly on time outside of Tait McKenzie, the fitness center at York University. Calliope was delighted by Landon’s presence. She smiled at Landon flirtatiously, cocking her head to examine him. “Well, hello there.”

  “Hey. I’m Landon Bostwick,” he beamed, shaking her outstretched hand. “I hear you’re all going on a campus tour.”

  “Are
you
coming along?” Calliope ran her finger down his chest, making Landon visibly uncomfortable. He laughed nervously and replied, “Uh-huh.”

  The girl couldn’t help it—it was in her nature to flirt shamelessly. She was disarmingly beautiful and stood at five feet eleven inches—an inch taller than me. Her shoulder-length locks of sparkling black hair and bangs emphasized her ivory complexion and iridescent green eyes. It only took her fifteen minutes to select her light course load with an undecided major, while others took days or even weeks to decide. Sometimes I wondered whether she had only enrolled in university to meet guys and party. She rarely attended class in high school and any free time was usually spent with Marla or me. She barely cracked a book open, but her marks were impeccable. I used to think she was Wonder Woman.