“I know what the movie was about, Rubi. I get the point. My point is Kubrick was so obsessed with portraying the dystopian future that he neglected to push the message to a mainstream audience. Film students and artistic types are not typically prone to violence. The message is nothing new for them. The average movie-goer has to be kicked in the face with the truth or they don’t fucking get it. Why do you think Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ did so well? It was like a hammer of guilt hitting people in the face.”
“Fuck Mel Gibson!” Claudia contributed. “I don’t care if he’s talented. He’s a sanctimonious ass and the last person with any right to make a movie about Jesus.” Rubio caressed Claudia’s arm.
“No need to get worked up, Claudia. We’re just talking.” Rubio looked toward me. “What do you think, James? Are you a Kubrick fan?”
It was the first time anyone had called me James. It was such a simple name. It had no hidden meaning like dog or loyal disciple. It was just a name. A normal name for a normal person.
“Um, I’ve never seen the movie and I don’t really know who Kubrick is. We saw the new Harry Potter last week. I liked that one.” I smiled and sipped some sangria. Everyone burst into laughter, and Livvie leaned over to give me another easy kiss.
“I’m sorry, Sexy. Sometimes we get our nerd on without thinking about other people. Let’s change the subject.”
“I don’t mind. I like hearing what you think. I follow the conversation. Personally, I’d like to think a person can change for the better. But I think Rubio is correct as well—a person has to have a reason to change. They have to believe their situation will be made better by changing. Otherwise, that person is at a disadvantage. Violence is necessary if you live in a violent world.” My heart was thumping hard.
Rubio’s expression turned sour. “I never said violence was necessary. I said there’s too much of it and we need to find a way to treat it as a societal disease.”
“That will never happen. Even flowers kill, Rubio. Human beings are far more flawed than flowers. We all do what we feel we must do. If that means killing… so be it. Survival—”
“Is the most important thing,” Livvie finished. Her expression turned wistful. She set her fork down and stood. “I’m bored of this conversation. Let’s play more Rock Band.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. I knew that smile well.
I regretted ever opening my stupid mouth.
We played Rock Band for a few more hours. I got much better at the guitar and actually enjoyed myself. I’d studied a lot of things about America and Americans. I’d learned about their pop culture, but I’d never played a video game. It was very entertaining and I decided I’d be buying a PlayStation the very next day.
Afterward, Claudia and Rubio decided to pack up more than their share of the leftovers and head home. They hugged me goodbye—yes, both of them—and I thought it was a little strange. I went with it, though. I could be a hugger… maybe. No, it was weird.
“If we were in The States, you could buy one on the cheap tomorrow. Too bad Spain doesn’t celebrate Black Friday,” Livvie said as she turned the faucet on and began washing dishes.
“What the hell is that?” I asked and opened the dishwasher.
“It’s a sacred tradition where thousands of hoarders camp outside stores and then bludgeon their neighbors for the best prices on PlayStations and iPads. I used to go with my mom.” She shrugged.
“I think I’ll just order one on the computer. Unless you would find it romantic for me to bludgeon your neighbors?” I smiled. Livvie laughed.
“Hmmm… maybe. Let’s see who complains about the loud rock music.” She shoved me with her shoulder. “You did good today. My friends are a little in love with you, I think.”
I felt a strange pang in my chest.
“I did my best. They seem nice. Claudia is a little too friendly, and I don’t understand how Rubio does anything in those skinny pants, but they obviously love you. You’re very lucky, Kitten.” I paused. “There seems to be no shortage of people who love you.”
Livvie was scouring a pot and didn’t meet my eyes.
“Caleb,” she sighed.
“I like James. Maybe you should call me that. Less chance you’ll slip around your friends. I could call you Sophia. We could, I don’t know… pretend. We could pretend to be normal… together. I’m not wearing those skinny jeans, though.” I tried to keep the conversation light. We’d had such a great day and I didn’t want to ruin it.
Livvie handed me the pot for rinsing.
“I’ve been thinking about that. I think… it could be a good idea. It might sound weird, but when they changed my name I felt free to become someone else. Livvie was a sad girl. She cared too much about things that didn’t matter and let people take advantage of her. Sophia is self-aware and she doesn’t take shit from anyone.”
I didn’t care for her words.
“You never took shit from anyone. You’re the strongest person I know. Stronger than me.” I swallowed. “But I know what you mean. Rafiq started calling me Caleb after he…” I couldn’t say the word rescued. Rafiq had never rescued me. “I used to be called something far less flattering.”
Livvie handed me another dish and moved closer to me. Our arms brushed whenever we moved.
“What was it?”
I mentioned the name in Arabic.