by Nancy Werlin
Meldel opened her mouth, but a dozen strangers in the area cut her off, singing, “And we are his sisters and his cousins and his aunts!”
Our skit collapsed like a punctured balloon as Vader took center stage, bellowing an entire song from what I later learned was an operetta. Random people around us joined in on the chorus about the sisters and the cousins and the aunts, as well as another line about “what never, no never, well, hardly ever!”
When Darth finally finished, there was laughter and wild applause from the gathered crowd. Darth took a deep bow.
Meldel got in his face. She yelled, “You ruined our skit! Do you not realize how rude that was? Do you not?”
Todd interrupted, with a hand on Meldel to draw her away. “She’s just passionate,” he explained to a flustered Darth. “And this was her very own thing, you know. Sorry!”
Meldel wrenched her arm away from Todd. She said, “I was speaking for myself!”
Darth and Rey looked appalled. Darth said, “Sorry. It was just, uh—the mothers and sisters thing, I couldn’t resist—and it wasn’t just me—everybody was singing. And—”
That was when Sebastian ran up to us.
Screaming.
“It burns! Help! Get it off me! Help!” He skidded to a stop, looked down at the ketchup oozing out from the tight fabric of his sleeves. He paled, tottered, and abruptly thudded onto the floor in a dead faint.
Umpteen people whipped out their phones and called 911.
It was night. Tails between our legs, we’d retreated to Sebastian’s residence hall for pizza and reassessment. I chewed a leaf of the salad I’d insisted we also get, reflecting that in-person publicity was a whole different animal from using social media. Marketing kitten-shaped soap for Mrs. Albee had clearly not taught me enough.
Everybody else was obviously depressed, too. Except, possibly . . .
Todd tucked into his fifth slice. “Hey, Sweet! Where’d you get all those ketchup packs anyway? Steal ’em?”
“I collected them.” Sebastian shivered visibly. “Over time. But I didn’t realize how they were going to feel on my skin. It was basically a couple hundred tiny ice packs! I’m going to need a whole different approach. Nothing yet, but don’t worry, I’m thinking.”
Sebastian was down but not out.
Liv said, “I’m wondering, would they have worked without freezing them first?”
“No, they would have leaked too soon,” said Cam.
Sebastian nodded. “I need a slow ooze. Look, I knew it would be uncomfortable. I just wasn’t aware of what exactly it would feel like. And . . .” He lowered his head to between his knees. “I knew it wasn’t real blood, but that didn’t matter. I’m so embarrassed,” he added miserably. “I ruined our skit.”
“No, no, it was that mini Darth Vader who ruined everything,” Meldel said. “Not you. We could have ad-libbed your screaming and fainting right into the skit.”
Sebastian’s brow crinkled in puzzlement. “Really?”
Liv and I exchanged a glance.
“May I ask exactly how you suggest we would have ad-libbed in the arrival of the first-aid team?” I asked Meldel.
She waved a hand. “Oh, Zoe. Bleeders is a medical show! We would have been creative. Surely you can think of a dozen different ideas. Don’t make me do all the work.”
“That’s my Mel,” said Todd.
Meldel narrowed her eyes. “Which reminds me. Todd? Don’t ever apologize or make excuses for me again! Or intervene when I am talking to someone!”
“What are you talking about?”
“I was telling mini Darth off and you intervened!”
“Oh, that. You were overreacting. I just wanted to help.”
“Darth was totally rude and I had every right to say so.”
“A little diplomacy was a better idea. We don’t want to alienate our potential nerdy allies, now do we?”
“Don’t now-do-we me!”
I was trying to remember exactly what had happened as Meldel added, “You were one microsecond away from calling me an emotional little girl-creature who was out of control. And then you apologized on my behalf! You’re my boyfriend, not my keeper!”
“That wasn’t what I meant.”
“It was what you meant.” Meldel took a deep breath. “But we’ll talk about it later. I care about you and your emotional growth and I would like to cure you of your ingrained male condescension. Or at least make you conscious of it.”
“And can I try to cure you of your superiority complex?” Todd snapped. “Or is this a one-way thing?”
They were leaning forward, their faces close, glaring at each other. I was thinking that they were both right, and that my Simon would never, ever have apologized for me—but the next second, Todd and Meldel were kissing. And it wasn’t just a quick peck, either.
“Ahem!” said Cam loudly. “Ahem! Other people! Other people are here!”
Sebastian muttered, “Faint again. Please. Let me faint.”
Meldel pushed her fingers into Todd’s hair. Todd made a noise that I wished never to hear again.
Liv took up an unopened can of Fanta orange, shook it briskly, and exploded it on Todd and Meldel.
They broke apart, dripping.
“That was rude,” said Liv sternly.
Meldel said, “Sorry!” but Todd did not apologize. He wiped soda off his face with his fingers and then licked them. The rest of us winced. Sebastian threw Todd a wad of paper napkins. “Faces. Floors. Look under the sink for cleaning products. Also, no more of that . . . that. Not in my dorm room. No arguments, no kissing! No nothing ! And here I thought I was the one with socialization issues!”
“Learn something every day,” Cam said.
“I know, right?” said Sebastian indignantly.
“Todd will clean up,” said Meldel.
“Yes, Todd clean up,” said Todd, still grinning. “Todd happy. Todd looking forward to makeup sex.”
“Shut up shut up shut up,” I said.
“I’ll help clean,” said Liv primly, getting up and heading for the sink. “I apologize, Sebastian. But something had to be done.”
Todd said, “Don’t fret, little children. One day, you will understand.”
“No,” said Liv bluntly. “If anything, you have added cement to my lack of interest.”
Once the soda spill was cleared to Sebastian’s satisfaction, Todd and Meldel were sent to sit in separate corners. Then Cam cleared his throat and hammered the wooden floor with the bell of the stethoscope-garrote.
“Back to business, Bloodygits! We need to try something else tomorrow. Something that doesn’t involve skits or blood.”
As we pondered in silence, my phone buzzed.
MAGGIE: What’s going on now? Sebastian recovered from his faint?
ME: Yes but more drama ensued. I’ll tell you later. Everything OK there?
MAGGIE: Great! Guess what?
MAGGIE: I’m about to learn how to snake electrical wire up into the ceiling!
ME: And why would you do that?
MAGGIE: To install a ceiling fan, silly. Or a light fixture.
ME: Won’t everything be wireless soon?
MAGGIE: Do not speak of mysteries that you do not understand.
ME: You’re getting weirder and weirder.
MAGGIE: Says you, Lorelei?
I was still smiling when my phone buzzed with another text, this time from Simon.
SIMON: Josie came with me tonight to address voter postcards.
ME: How’s that going?
SIMON: Well, she’s eating the cookies.
ME: I take it her presence is not entirely voluntary?
SIMON: It’s for her own good.
SIMON: She’ll appreciate it later.
ME: ♥
ME: Are you maybe a little bit bored too?
SIMON: Maybe . . .
ME: Missing me?
SIMON: Yes. I wish you were here.
SIMON: Maybe you won’t have needed to c
heck out NYU.
SIMON: I’m really hoping now we’ll want to stay in Boston.
SIMON: Alisha is going to win. I know it!
ME: I hope so.
SIMON: Back to work! xo
ME: xo
When I looked up, Meldel was making one last pitch for us to try the skit again. “We attracted a crowd. Well, a small one. It was good PR, even when we got mocked. And you know, maybe we should be thankful for mini Darth.”
She got to her feet. She marched back and forth, hands behind her back, looking at us like she was Captain and we were sorry recruits. “Let us reframe. We were trying to get attention. We got it! Bad attention is as good as good attention! Bad is good!”
“There’s this book, Meldel,” said Liv. “A little dystopian classic called Nineteen Eighty-Four. You might have heard of it. ‘War is peace. Love is hate.’ Or something like that.”
“ ‘Ignorance is strength,’ ” I added.
Meldel beamed at all of us. “You’re getting it now! Use your minds to conquer and change reality!”
I said, “So you’re saying—by implication—that there’s no such thing as actual truth.”
Meldel shook her head. “No. There is truth, but there is also sometimes reframing.”
“That’s dangerous,” I pointed out sharply. “In the political realm, for example.” Simon would be proud of me.
“No politics, Zoe,” said Cam. “Please, I’m on vacation from politics.”
I squelched a sympathetic impulse and said sternly, “You have to be aware of what’s going on in the world. Meldel, what you’re talking about is, um, well, evil.”
We sat there. Somehow, I had killed the discussion.
Then Todd broke the spell. “Zoe, let me explain Meldel to you. She’s not evil. But she is on the chaos axis.”
Meldel smiled, Cam laughed out loud, and Liv and Sebastian nodded thoughtfully.
“What?” I said.
“He’s talking about where Meldel is on the character alignment chart,” Liv said.
“What?” I repeated.
It turns out that in role-playing games, an “alignment chart” is used to quickly pinpoint the essence of a character’s moral code. There are nine potential types, which Sebastian called up on his laptop and showed me, with various Muppets as examples.
Kermit was Lawful Good and Miss Piggy was Neutral Evil and Animal was Chaotic Neutral, which is what Todd said he was too, while (he claimed) Meldel was Chaotic Good.
Cam said, “It’s deliberately crude. Think of the sorting hat! It provides a rough insight into character. I think I’m Neutral Good, depending on the situation.”
“The character alignment has applications to people,” said Meldel. “But what I really love is analyzing shows with it.”
That took everyone off into Bleeders. True Neutral for Captain, Chaotic Good for Celie, Lawful Good for Torrance. They were arguing about Lorelei when I finally spoke.
“Simon is Lawful Good,” I said.
“Oh, for sure he is,” said Liv. “From what you’ve said.”
And so am I Lawful Good, I thought.
Sebastian led Liv, Cam, and me out into the early-morning autumn air for our personal tour of NYU. Our plan was to get the tour done before hitting the con with Meldel and Todd later.
“Coffee,” said Liv, staggering toward a Starbucks.
I got an orange juice. Sebastian got hot chocolate. Liv and Cam got coffee. Cam was wearing shorts that flirted with being a skirt, and a T-shirt with a dinosaur and the words ALL MY FRIENDS ARE DEAD. It was the first time, I realized, that I had seen him wearing anything but Tennah/Bellah cosplay. And it occurred to me to wonder . . .
“Hey, Cam and Liv,” I said. “When I think about it, I’m surprised that Liv is Torrance and Cam is Tennah/Bellah. Why not the other way around?”
“Uh,” said Liv. “You think it’s more natural that the person assigned male at birth ought to play the male role and vice versa?”
“Oh,” I said. “Yeah. Sorry.”
“Also.” Cam pointed to Liv. “It needs to be said that we picked the cosplays we picked because someone is lazy.”
“I just wanted a simpler costume. I’m busy.”
“While I lead a life of pure indolence and pleasure,” said Cam.
“No, but some of us play a varsity sport.”
“Some of us have no time for team sports because we pursue a full interior life.”
“Too interior, some think.”
“What sport, Liv?” Sebastian interrupted.
“Basketball,” said Liv.
“Cool,” I said, impressed. “That’ll help with college, right?”
“Maybe. We’ll see. I’m good but not, you know, Division One recruiting material.” Liv paused and added, “I’ve decided that I’m looking for a Division Three school with a decent basketball program where I can major in gender studies and hopefully get some scholarship money if I play. As part of that, I’m also considering a couple of women’s colleges with good teams. Which I admit feels somewhat weird.” Liv shot a glance at Cam.
“No kidding weird,” Cam muttered. “Since you don’t identify as female.”
“So how can you apply there?” asked Sebastian.
Liv said, “Well, there’s stuff on the Smith College website—that’s one place I’m looking at—about their support for gender diversity.” They rolled their eyes. “Their language is a tiny bit contradictory. They say they’re open to nonbinary and trans and nonconforming students, but at the same time, they want you to self-identify as a woman.”
“Which, hello, you don’t,” said Cam to the air.
“But I don’t identify as male, either, and I never will,” Liv countered. “And when I search my soul, I feel female loyalty. Esprit de corps or whatever.”
“Wouldn’t an all-female atmosphere be worse for you than a college that admits all genders, though?” I asked.
“I’m not sure that’s true. I like being around women—like, I’m totally comfortable with my team. My summer basketball camps were all-women, and those have been some of the friendliest experiences I’ve ever had. It was actually the first place I ever met another enby person.” Liv shrugged. “In the end, the atmosphere probably depends on the specific school, right? Anyway, this is just one idea I’m exploring, and I’m going to be careful, so stop looking at me disapprovingly, all of you. Okay? I know what I’m doing.”
“Sorry,” said Sebastian.
I nodded, a little disappointed. If Liv chose a women’s college, there was no possibility we’d end up at the same place. But their situation was obviously just as complex as figuring out the right college was for Simon and me.
Liv added, “Basketball is one reason why I also use she/her. It’s just made things easier when I’m on a girls’ team.”
“You think they’d throw you out over your pronouns?” asked Sebastian incredulously.
Liv shrugged. “I don’t know and I haven’t wanted to find out.”
“That’s why the scarves?” I asked. “Camouflage?”
“No! My scarves are not femme window dressing. I love them! This one is so warm, I don’t even need a coat. Thirteenth Doctor.” Liv fingered a fringed end lovingly. “My mom made it. Scarves forever! But the thing is, beginning with college, I want to just be me, without having to worry about what other people think about how I dress or how I act and how it fits their ideas.”
“Good luck with that,” said Sebastian gloomily. “My experience? The worry never ends completely. But at least I’m myself around Bloodygits.”
“Me too,” I said. Impulsively, I flung one arm around Sebastian as we walked and the other around Liv, and Cam reached out on Sebastian’s other side, so the four of us were walking together, arms around one another, smiling.
We had walked a few blocks south during this conversation. Sebastian stopped, disentangled, and waved a hand. “Here! These buildings all belong to NYU.”
NYU didn’t have a dedica
ted campus; it was merged with the city in lower Manhattan. I wondered if Simon would like that, before remembering that now Simon hoped to stay in Boston, supposing Alisha Johnson Pratt was elected and gave him a job.
“It must feel like being really grown up, going to school here,” Cam said. “You’re living in the city. You’re surrounded by real people all the time, not just students.”
I nodded, thinking of the apartment Sebastian shared with his roommate in the residence hall. I wondered whether Simon and I could be in an apartment-dorm together. Would that be allowed? Would I want that? It would be sort of like being married already. Probably my parents wouldn’t like this idea. Especially given what my mom had said yesterday.
“There are flags and signs to identify the NYU buildings,” said Sebastian, and we looked at the purple flag and the lettering on the building before us: the Andre & Bella Meyer Hall of Physics. I took a picture for evidence I’d been there.
I said, “I don’t think I’d ever take a college-level physics class.”
“They have psychology in this building, too,” Sebastian said. “And I had Nat Sci here last year. You want to see inside?”
“Definitely,” said Cam.
Sebastian opened the door using his badge. We looked at an empty lecture hall, which had concrete walls and seats cascading down theater-style to a stage with a speaker’s podium, electronic monitors, and sliding blackboards. Sebastian demonstrated how you could sit in a chair and set up the folding desk that came out of the chair’s arm. I took a picture of him, a close-up shot that wouldn’t show all the empty seats around him, and that might imply I had attended a weekend lecture. Then I had Liv and Cam sit down so that I could take a picture of all of them and claim that they were part of my tour group.
Which they were.
Neutral Evil: Does whatever they can get away with.
I winced.
Liv was examining the writing on the blackboards. Cam stood with his hands in his pockets. Suddenly he spun in a circle and burst into a song about New York being a wonderful town. When he stopped, he was grinning. “I’m so sold on NYU.”
