by Sarah Kuhn
I studied them. What had just happened? My brain was still bouncing around in that euphoric, loosey-goosey way and I couldn’t quite get a handle on it. Why was Tess being all weird and evasive about Julie? And why had they been so eager to change the subject?
These were all things I had to file away for later. For now, we had to focus on keeping Tess talking.
“What’s your opinion on Doctor Hyon’s latest theory on mitosis?” Tess continued, tilting their head at Aveda curiously. “Because I have to say, it’s provoked a lot of controversy in class—”
“Oh, it’s good,” Aveda said, flashing Tess one of her million-watt Aveda Jupiter smiles. “Very, very good. But listen, I’m really hoping to get to know all the students on a one-on-one level. So tell me more about yourself. Like, what’s the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to you here at Morgan?”
“Oh, um.” Tess popped the cheesy fry in their mouth, their eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “Probably the time I was doing my work-study job at the dining hall and I accidentally dumped a thing of green food coloring into the mixer. It turned all the rolls bright green.” They pushed their glasses up their nose, looking sheepish.
“Ah,” Aveda said, a puzzled look passing over her face. “That is . . . very weird. For sure. Green bread!”
“Hey, I remember that,” Pippa said, grinning at Tess. “Personally, I thought those rolls were dope—a much needed pop of color against a sea of beige dining hall food. But Shel here didn’t like it much. She thought the rolls looked ‘sick.’ And not in a good way.”
“Pips!” Shelby hissed, her face flushing. “Why are you telling them that, it makes me sound totally weird. Ughhhh . . .” She scrubbed a hand over her face.
“Hmm.” Pippa frowned. “Sorry, Shel, that’s so odd—I wasn’t planning on saying that out loud, I’m not sure why I did . . .”
“And I was actually thinking I’d take that green bread story to my grave,” Tess said, looking contemplative. “The dining hall boss lady is kind of a hardass, so I pretended I had no idea why the bread turned out that way. Not sure why I spewed it just now.”
“Eliza and I have that effect on people,” Aveda said, smiling beatifically. “Somehow, we always get them to open up.”
“Um, yeah,” I said, stifling an eye-roll. “But say, Tess—I think when Angelica asked you about weird stuff happening . . . well, she was wondering if you’d encountered any of Morgan’s famous oddities. You know . . .” I lowered my voice theatrically. I was still feeling weirdly loose and uninhibited, and just a little bit giggly. “. . . the hauntings.”
“Oh, I, uh . . .” Tess’s gaze slid to the side as they toyed with another cheesy fry. Suddenly, their guard was up again. “N-no. Not really.”
“Are you sure?” I said, giving them an encouraging smile. “No weird sounds in the dining hall? Unexplained noises? Nothing like that?”
“I . . .” Tess shook their head vigorously. “No. I don’t think so. I mean . . . I thought there was something, but some, um, friends helped me see that it was nothing.”
“Those friends sound rather gaslighting,” Aveda said, her eyes narrowing. “What did they help you see, exactly?”
“It’s nothing like that,” Tess said, a little too quickly. They dropped the cheesy fry on their napkin, uneaten. “They’re experts on ghosts and hauntings, and . . . well. I think I just wanted something like that to happen to me so bad, I imagined it.”
“Wait a minute!” Pippa sat up straighter, waving the remnants of her burrito around, her bangles clinking together. “Tess, are you in Morgan’s super secret ghost-hunting society?”
Aveda and I exchanged a look. Was this the possible secret society Bea had mentioned?
Pippa smacked Shelby in the arm. “See, I told you that was a thing! You have to go talk to them about your encounter, Shel!”
“Hey,” Shelby hissed, grabbing Carpet Ball and clutching it to her chest. “Seriously, Pips, what’s with the blabbing of all my secrets?”
“What encounter is she talking about, Shelby?” Tess said, leaning forward—their expression had turned intense, but they were obviously trying to hide just how important this was. “Oh my god, was that you who had the run-in with the courtyard ghost? I . . . wow. I really need to talk you about that, actually. I . . .” They pressed their lips together, like they were desperately trying to keep it all inside. “You should come to a society meeting . . . aw, shit . . .” Tess gnawed on their lower lip, their eyes getting big behind their glasses. “The society is a secret, you’re right. Please, please don’t tell anyone I blabbed about it. God.” They shook their head, frowning. “I don’t know why I said all that out loud. But anyway, yeah—I can get you an invite to a meeting. Count on it.”
“Do you suppose Angelica and I could get invited also?” I said, leaning forward so eagerly I nearly toppled our hot sauce trough.
Aveda shot me a surprised look. Usually she was the one who pushed boundaries, who made the more aggressive moves. I was the one who reeled her back in. But I was still feeling that weirdly euphoric sensation—as if I couldn’t keep any of my immediate thoughts contained in my head. They were all demanding to be let out now. “We’re really into ghosts and other supernatural phenomena,” I added. “And we’ve been hearing tell of this ghost society, soooo . . . ?” I gave Tess a hopeful look.
“I’m not sure,” Tess said hesitantly. They looked guarded again. “We’re only supposed to do one invite at a time, and I need to have a really good reason—”
“I want her to come,” Shelby blurted out. We all turned to look at her. Her eyes immediately went to the floor and she toyed with the ends of her hair. “I want Eliza to come,” she repeated more firmly. “If the society wants me to talk about my, um, encounter, she has to be there too.”
“And where Eliza goes, I go,” Aveda said, straightening her spine. “We’re a package deal.”
Tess looked back and forth between us, considering. Then they gave a small shrug and picked up their cheesy fry again. “I’ll see what I can do.” But it didn’t sound like they meant it. I studied them for a moment—their mood seemed to be pinging all over the place.
A slightly awkward silence descended over us, everyone chewing their food.
Pippa, of course, was the one to break it.
“Ooooh!” she said, clapping her hands together. “I know how y’all can build real trust with each other. You two . . .” She gestured expansively to Aveda and me. “. . . need to share a secret. Tess told you about their green bread. Shelby told Eliza about her ghostly encounter . . .”
“And then you blurted it out to everyone else,” Shelby muttered.
“So now you guys tell us something,” Pippa continued, her eyes flashing with excitement. “Something secret. Then Tess will know they can trust you.”
“That makes no sense,” Aveda said.
“Actually, I like it,” Tess said, some of their intensity dissipating. They leaned back in their seat, crossed their arms over their chest, and raised an eyebrow. “Wow me.”
“Ummm . . .” I exchanged glances with Aveda. Our biggest secret was obviously something we couldn’t tell them. So why was it on the tip of my tongue, why was it fighting to get out, why did I suddenly feel like I was about to straight up die if I didn’t tell them we weren’t who we were claiming to be—
“Eliza’s having love problems!” Aveda blurted out. Then clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oops. Sorry. I don’t know why I . . .” She shook her head, her cheeks flushing.
“Big deal, who isn’t?” Pippa rolled her eyes. “That’s not juicy at all.”
“Agreed,” Tess said. “I am decidedly not wowed.”
“He won’t have sex with her!” Aveda blurted again.
I glared daggers at her. “Angelica . . . what are you . . .”
“Better!” Pippa crowed, leaning forward. “T
ell us more, Eliza. What’s happening exactly? Don’t skimp on the details!”
“I . . . god.” I scraped a hand over my face. Was this really happening? Had Aveda just offered up my sex life to near strangers for consumption and judgment? I could have just refused to say anything . . . but suddenly the words were bubbling up on my tongue, pounding against my brain, dying to escape. “I love this man,” I blurted, dropping my hand from my face. “My, um, boyfriend. I love him so much, it overwhelms me sometimes. But he’s pulling away, he’s so distant. When I look at him, all I see is him being worried about me—”
“Why is he worried about you?” Pippa said, cocking her head to the side. “Seems like you’re killin’ it.”
“Um, it’s just . . . you know, the new school and everything, the fact that I just transferred in,” I said, stuffing down the truth that was lingering on the tip of my tongue. “I hate that I’m causing him to worry like that, I just . . . I hate it. But I don’t know how to stop it. And I’m so fucking horny right now, if he doesn’t touch me soon, I might explode. And that feels so silly. So inconsequential. But it’s how I feel, and I can’t . . .” My voice wobbled and unexpected tears filled my eyes. I swallowed hard. “I can’t stop it. I don’t know what to do. I just . . . I love him. He feels so far away, even when he’s sitting next to me. And I miss him so much right now.” A tear slipped down my cheek and I hastily scraped it away. “Sorry.”
“Why sorry?” Pippa scoffed, shaking her head. “Your feelings are your feelings. They have value.”
“And high levels of horniness is a serious issue,” Tess added, nodding sagely. “Not to mention that as overworked students, a lot of us have major stress relief needs. My vibrator collection always gets a serious workout during finals week.”
“Eliza,” Shelby said softly, sitting up a little straighter. “Remember what you said to me in the car? About how having compassion for yourself is hard but necessary? I think maybe you need some of that, too.” She gave me a small, earnest smile—I was starting to realize that on her, that was a big emotional gesture.
I smiled back, brushing away my tears. Then I studied each of them in turn, all of them looking at me openly, their smiles bright and generous. We barely knew each other, but they all cared so much. It made me feel warm all over.
“Caring about yourself is hard,” Pippa said, whipping out her phone. “Especially when society—and d-bag professors—try to tell us we’re not worth caring about, period. But what if we try to solve the . . . hmm, let’s call it the first layer of this problem. Is there a way you can seduce your man, Eliza? Get him to forget all that worry with, like, nudity.”
“I’ve tried,” I said, leaning back against the couch with a whump. “Believe me, I’ve tried everything.”
“Have you, though?” Pippa sang out, waving her phone in the air. “Have you tried . . .” She whipped her phone around. “. . . these?”
“Hold on, we can’t see the screen from here,” Aveda said, getting to her feet and crossing to Pippa’s couch. She took the phone from Pippa and brought it back to me, her eyes widening as she studied the screen. “Um. I don’t know if Eliza’s going to be into . . .”
“Let me see,” I said, grabbing the phone from her. “Oh . . .”
My face flushed. The screen displayed an assortment of Halloween costumes. Sexy Halloween costumes. There was Sexy Nurse, Sexy Clown, Sexy Construction Worker . . .
“Wow,” Aveda said, leaning over my shoulder. “Sexy SpongeBob SquarePants? How is that a thing?”
“Do you have a fantasy?” Pippa said, her eyes narrowing shrewdly. “Or does he? Not so much Sexy SpongeBob SquarePants—although maybe we could all do that as a group costume for the Halloween Courtyard Bash. But maybe you could do a little roleplay or something? Mix it up.”
“Plus one to that,” Tess said, swooping an index finger through the air. “Make it fun. Right now, it sounds like you’re approaching it like it’s homework or something. Bring the fun back!”
I studied the “sexy” images, gnawing on my lower lip. Would something like this do it? Would it get Nate to forget his worries for a bit?
“What do you think, Shelby?” I said, turning to look at her. She’d gone quiet, hugging Carpet Ball to her chest. I wondered if it was hard for her to find her footing in conversations with so many big personalities—I knew that had sometimes been an issue for me. Maybe I could help her better draw those healthy boundaries if she felt included, more secure in her friendships.
Her head snapped up in surprise. “Oh, I . . . I mean fun sounds good.” She gave me a tentative smile, hugging Carpet Ball a little tighter. “Maybe you could surprise him with something? Get him to drop his guard?”
“A sexy surprise,” I said, smiling ruefully as I remembered my mistake from the day before. “Sure, why not? I’ve tried everything else.”
“I know Eliza’s fantasy,” Aveda said with a sly grin. She swiped the phone from me. “I’m gonna order you something—with your consent of course.” Her finger hovered above the phone screen and she cocked a questioning eyebrow at me.
“Go for it,” I said, giving a little fist-pump, that loopy exhilaration rushing through me again.
“Yeeeeahhh!” Pippa said, echoing my fist-pump. “Mark my words, Eliza, you are gonna get that D!”
“Do it!” Tess shrieked, jumping off the couch and upending the rest of their cheesy nacho fries.
“Do! It!” Pippa yelled, leaping up to join them. “Everybody, come on, ride-or-die crew! Do! It! Do! It!”
And then we were all jumping out of our seats, pumping our fists in the air, the chant of Do! It! Do! It! echoing off the cavernous ceiling of the Mara Dash common area.
I glanced over at Aveda mid-chant—our cheeks were flushed and exhilaration was racing through my bloodstream, making me feel buoyant and light, nothing else in this moment except for a bunch of friends cheering. Even Shelby looked elated, waving Carpet Ball in the air as Pippa danced around her.
We were, just for a moment, those carefree college girls Aveda had dreamed of us being. And I loved every second.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“BRIGHT . . . WHY . . . BRIGHT.”
I awoke to the dulcet tones of Aveda Jupiter’s voice spitting out these indignant words as she shuffled over to our dorm room window and batted at the flimsy pull-down shade, attempting to block out the bits of sun that were filtering in around the edges. “Arrrghhhh,” she growled, her voice crackly. It sounded like she’d just smoked an entire pack of cigarettes. “I’ve defeated demons of every kind imaginable, but this window shade may end up being my ultimate nemesis.”
“So that was our first college rager,” I said, taking extra care as I pulled myself into a sitting position in bed. In the distance, the bell tower let out a bong—but instead of being comforting, it felt like the giant bell was slamming itself directly against my head. Ugh, was that morning sickness or was I actually hung over—
Wait, why would I be hung over? From non-alcoholic punch?
Oh, no.
Oh, fuck.
Before I could ponder that further, my stomach heaved—that familiar, queasy sensation that meant I was about to—
I managed to grab the wastebasket next to my nightstand and vomited semi-digested Taco Bell into it.
“Ughhh,” I groaned, flopping back on my pillow, the events from the night before whirling through my brain.
I’d drunk the non-alcoholic punch, but then I’d started to feel . . . weird . . . and I’d wondered about that, but I’d kept losing the thread . . . because I felt weird . . .
Had the non-alcoholic punch actually been jam-packed with alcohol and I’d just gotten accidentally wasted at a college dorm party, thereby proving I was definitely not responsible enough to have a baby?
The baby.
My hand went instinctually to my belly, panic shooting throu
gh me.
“Annie,” I said, sitting up fully. “I . . . I think I got accidentally drunk last night.” Anxiety coalesced in my gut, forming a tight knot, and I suddenly felt like there was a weight on my chest, like I couldn’t breathe . . .
“What did I do?” I managed to wheeze out. “What if my baby’s all fucked up now?!”
“Evie—breathe!” Aveda ordered, shuffling over to my bed and plunking herself down next to me. “Your baby is fine,” she said firmly, putting an arm around my shoulders. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you—both of you.”
She gazed into my eyes with such intensity, I had no choice but to believe her. I breathed slow and deep, and felt the same surge of warmth that had come over me last night when we were doing karaoke. And then again when we were singing our way through the Taco Bell drive-thru and bonding with Shelby, Pippa, and Tess. Tears welled in my eyes—and suddenly, all the words I’d been bottling up these past few weeks came spilling out.
“Annie,” I whispered. “I don’t know if I can do this. Be a mom. Be everything else. Be all of it, all at once. Whenever I try to picture it, I just see . . .” I gestured vaguely. “Nothing. Like, a big, blank space. Because I can’t even conceive of how it would look. And then I feel like I can’t tell anyone this, or even let on that I’m thinking that way, because, you know . . . my life is so perfect right now. Except I’m freaking out all the time and my husband doesn’t want to have sex with me anymore and I’m pretty sure I’m going to be a terrible mother—”
“Evie.” Aveda cut me off, and squeezed my shoulder. “Stop. Keep breathing. You’re doing fine. No one has all this shit figured out—trust me. No one on the planet actually knows how to ‘have it all,’ that’s some bullshit concept corporations use to sell us kombucha and self-help books. And one freaking drink won’t ‘fuck up’ your baby, I’m pretty sure. You are not going to be a bad mother. But . . .” She gave me another squeeze, her gaze turning thoughtful. “I’m glad you told me all that. Lately, you’ve been giving me a lot of pasted-on smiles, but your eyes look kind of dead inside. I thought you were worried about losing your superheroine mojo, but now I see that there was a lot more going on, wasn’t there?”
