Fresh

by Margot Wood

  [Elliot approaches Micah while he is working out at the Emerson fitness center]

  ELLIOT (ME)

  Hey, Micah.

  MICAH

  Hey, Elliot.

  ELLIOT

  Whoa, this place is cool!

  MICAH

  Is this your first time at the school gym?

  ELLIOT

  Yes?

  MICAH

  *judging sigh* Why am I not surprised?

  ELLIOT

  So do you know anyone who’d be down to throw a party on Saturday?

  MICAH

  Sure, Simon lives off campus and he loves hosting parties.

  ELLIOT

  Cool. Have a good workout.

  MICAH

  See ya.

  [End scene]

  PROJECT TENDER CHICKEN: ROOMMATE EDITION

  Step 1: Ignore Your Own Unrequited Feelings and Focus All Your Energy on Your Roommate’s Love Life

  Step 1 has been accomplished! Let’s proceed to step 2.

  Step 2: Help Your Roommate Pick Out a Costume (and Try Not to Hit on Her Too Much)

  As it turns out, Simon does indeed throw parties, but Simon’s parties are always costume parties. Simon’s philosophy, and therefore true of all costume majors based on my interactions with only two of them, is to treat every day like it’s your last day—and your last day just so happens to be Halloween. I bought the cheapest, most flammable tuxedo I could find at The Garment District, a vintage store in Cambridge, slicked my hair back into a tight bun, and accessorized with a plastic squirt gun filled with vodka to complete the James Bond look.2 Lucy decided to go with a Victorian Gothic look, which at first I was all like noooooo, that’s not hot but at the vintage store she found this floor-length black dress with long, billowy sleeves and a sweetheart neckline that dips dangerously low and the outfit, on her, is most definitely hot.

  “Your boobies look amazing in that dress,” I told her as we finished getting ready in our room.

  Lucy reached in and fluffed her boobs. “I know, right? It’s this new bra I got at the Prudential Center.” I have been providing in-depth commentary on her boobs all year and I think this was the first time she fully embraced one of my compliments.

  “Lady, that is no magic bra. That is all you,” I told her.

  Step 3: Convince Your Roommate’s Crush to Wear a Matching Costume

  Not to say that my whole plan rests entirely on outfits and costumes, but they do play an integral role. You see, once I knew what Lucy was wearing, I had to get Brad on board, so a week ago I ambushed Brad outside the bathrooms while he was in between classes.

  “Brad! Who are you going as to the party on Saturday?” He looked sleepy and not at all prepared to handle the energy I was throwing at him. Too bad. I waved in his face. “Hello? Brad? Hi! What costume are you wearing to Simon’s party?”

  “Uhh, I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I think I was just going to go as Steve Jobs?”

  “STEVE JOBS?” I yelled/said at him. “That’s the most boring costume ever! All you need is a damn turtleneck!”

  “Uh, yeah, that was kind of the point,” he said.

  “What if I told you I know who someone special is going as and gave you the chance to surprise them with a matching outfit?” I used lots of hand gestures and vocal inflection to really sell the intrigue of it all.

  “Uh, sure, I guess. Who are they going as?”

  I had to think about it for a sec. How could I succinctly describe what a Victorian goth babe looks like to someone like Brad in a way that he would understand and also get excited about?

  “Think Dracula meets The Phantom of the Opera meets—” I started to say but he stopped me short.

  “Say no more,” he said with a level of enthusiasm I was not expecting based on his first costume choice but who cares, I’ll take it! This plan is perfect! And now, back to the present tense!

  Step 4: Get Your Roommate and Her Crush in the Same Room and Watch the Sparks Fly

  “Are you sure this is the right place? This is way too nice for an undergrad,” Lucy asks me as we ring the doorbell to Simon’s apartment in the ultra-fancy Beacon Hill neighborhood. The door bursts open and Micah greets us.

  “Ladies, you made it! Welcome to the mans.” Micah is wearing tight acid-wash jeans, a white tank top, and a studded bracelet around his bicep. He’s slicked back his hair and either grew a mustache or pasted one on for the occasion but either way, he is owning this look.

  “Who are you supposed to be?” Lucy asks.

  “Freddie Mercury!” Micah and I yell at her in unison. It’s an extremely obvious reference. Even Lucy should have gotten that one.

  “Hiiii!” Simon singsongs as he appears in the doorway behind Micah. I don’t know why I’m surprised by his costume, but I am blown away, actually, because Simon is dressed as David Bowie as Ziggy Stardust. He is wearing a red-and-gray-striped onesie with shoulder pads and a red mullet wig, and he’s painted a lightning bolt over half his face. Micah grins at us and then leans back to kiss Simon. They match in their 1970s rock god outfits and ahhhh, I wanna die at how freaking cute they are together!

  Simon invites us in and damn. This place is HUGE. As he gives us the grand tour, Simon tells us about how he inherited the infamous Emerson hand-me-down, a beautiful three-bedroom brownstone with a backyard that’s rent controlled. An anonymous alumnus from Emerson’s past bought the place in the 1980s and has rented it at a reduced rate exclusively to Emerson students ever since. Simon was the lucky one to get the call from the mysterious benefactor this year.

  “Ten bucks says Micah finds out who owns this place by the end of the night and gets on the shortlist to inherit it next year,” I whisper to Lucy.

  “Fifty says he already knows,” she whispers back and I make a mental note to pester Micah for the details later.

  But it’s not just the apartment that is impressive, the party decor is so fancy, I legitimately feel like I’m at a ball. The whole house is lit entirely by the same tiny string lights Rose keeps making us take down and instead of sticky Solo cups filled with sweet mystery liquid, people are drinking red wine from vintage crystal glasses. In the kitchen, I am offered a goblet of wine by someone in a Sailor Moon costume, but I wave them off and stick to water. Tonight is about matchmaking, not keeping track of where I am on the Elliot Drink Scale. Within an hour, the place fills up and I see a lot of familiar faces, but it’s hard to tell who is who because it’s so dimly lit and everyone is in costume, so it takes me a second to recognize Brad and Sasha in the dining room by a chocolate fountain.

  “Hey, guys!” I say to them as I approach, but I come to a literal skidding halt when I see Brad more clearly. Ohhhh myyyyy godddddddd. I thought my suggestion of Dracula meets The Phantom of the Opera meant he’d just dress up as a handsome, gothic king, but he literally dressed up as Dracula AND the Phantom of the Opera. He’s wearing a cape and a white paper plate to cover half his face like the Phantom, but he’s also wearing fake fangs and has fake blood all over his mouth. OHMYGOD BRAD, YOU SWEET, BEAUTIFUL HIMBO. I LOVE YOU. Lucy trails behind me and when Brad sees her costume and figures it out that she was the special someone I was referring to, he breaks out in the biggest smile. He sets his drink down and I step back as he goes to her.

  “Lucy, you look so beautiful,” he says sweetly, and Lucy can’t hide the blush that’s warming up her face.

  “I love your costume too!” she says, but it’s like he doesn’t even hear her because he can’t take his eyes off her. He looks positively dazzled. She is smitten. They’re both smitten and my heart is soaring just looking at them.

  Step 5: . . .

  Well, shit. That was easier than I thought. In fact, I don’t think I actually did anything. This all seemed to happen on its own. So I guess step 5 is quit giving yourself credit for doing nothing at all and go dance your ass off.

  I grab my friends and lead them into the living room just as the song changes and it’s some dance remix to
Queen’s “Another One Bites the Dust.” Micah must have put this one on the playlist because when the iconic bass line comes on over the speakers, he jumps up on the couch and starts singing while Sasha, Lucy, Brad, and I cheer him on and Simon tries to get him off the fancy furniture. It’s easier to let go when you’re surrounded by friends, so to honor them, I start dancing around them like a maniac and shoot vodka at them from my squirt gun. When my squirt guns run low on ammo, I moonwalk back into the kitchen for a refill, but when I return, I see Rose dancing in the crowd. And she’s dressed in a black, shiny one-piece latex suit—exactly like the one the character Trinity wears in The Matrix. Seeing her like this . . . it’s too much. I can’t take it. It doesn’t matter how hard I ignore my feelings for Rose because they are right there, on the surface, demanding I pay attention.

  I don’t want her to see me so I slip back into the kitchen and out into the tiny backyard for some air.

  It’s an hour before I hear the back door swing open behind me, and when I turn around, it’s not anyone I was expecting. Simon finds me on the stoop, alone. He skips down the steps and sits next to me.

  “Contemplating life?” he asks.

  “More like hiding from it.”

  “I know that game well,” he says.

  “If that’s true, why host parties?”

  “I love putting on a show but I don’t necessarily need to be the star. I like being the host, not a guest.”

  “You’re like a modern-day Gatsby,” I flatter him.

  “Does that mean you approve?”

  “Micah isn’t one to need anyone’s approval—for anything—but for what it’s worth, I wholeheartedly approve.” He smiles and dimples form on either side of his cheeks.

  “What brings you out here while everyone else is inside?” he asks.

  “Lady troubles.”

  He starts to get up. “Do you need a tampon? Because I have a nice selection in the guest bathroom upstairs—”

  “No, no,” I laugh and pull him back down. “Not that lady problem, a different kind of lady problem. A romantical lady problem.”

  “Do tell.”

  I take a deep breath and rub the back of my neck. “I’ve been content spending the majority of my life in casual relationships. I’ve never been bothered by the fact that in most friend-group situations, I was flying solo. It’s easy to play that role when you don’t take relationships, or anything really, all that seriously.”

  “And you are content to play that role?” Simon asks.

  “Yeah, I am.” I pause to think about it for a second. “Or at least, I was.”

  “And now?”

  “Now? Now I want something more, and of course I want something more with my RA who isn’t even available, and all this unrequited wanting has left me feeling so fucking lonely. I mean, I am constantly surrounded by people and yet I’ve never felt more—”

  Simon reaches out and touches my arm. “Wait, did you just say you like your RA?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Isn’t your RA Rose?”

  “Again . . . yeah. Dude, what is it? You are freaking me out!”

  Simon drops his head in his hands and laughs. “Wow, ummm, I can’t believe you haven’t heard this yet, but Rose broke up with Monica.”

  I think my heart just stopped.

  I think I may be deceased.

  “What??!?!”

  “Yeah, she broke up with Monica, like, two or three months ago.”

  My hands fly up to my mouth. “Are you fucking serious?! How do you know this?”

  “Rose and I are in a lot of classes together since we’re both costume tech majors, so we’re pretty close,” he says and my face melts off.

  “When did she tell you this?”

  “I don’t know the specific day they broke up, but she told me about it two weeks ago when we were setting up the auction. She even said something about having feelings for someone else, but I don’t remember the details. I’m sorry, it was a busy night.” I want to scream at Simon to TELL ME EVERYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But instead I keep my mouth shut and concentrate all my efforts on keeping my face as chill as possible instead of exploding all over his nice backyard.

  Please excuse me while I process this new information on the next page.

  ROSE. IS. SINGLE.

  ROSE. HAS. NO. GIRLFRIEND.

  ROSE. IS. SINGLE.

  ROSE WAS SINGLE WHEN SHE BID ON ME.

  SHE HAS FEELINGS FOR SOMEONE ELSE.

  WAS SHE FOR REAL BIDDING ON ME?!

  AM I THAT SOMEONE ELSE?????

  WHAT. THE. FUCK.

  WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?!?

  ROSE. IS. SINGLE.

  ROSE.

  IS.

  SINGLE.

  ;ADJHF;LA;ALGKFJ

  Hold up.

  Wait.

  Even if this news is true,

  a) it doesn’t prove I’m the person Rose has feelings for,

  b) it doesn’t mean I deserve to be with her,

  c) even if she does have feelings for me and I felt worthy of those feelings . . . even if this were all true—WHICH WE DON’T FUCKING KNOW—it still wouldn’t mean our relationship would work. Rose is disciplined and focused and constantly trying to help me bring a better version of myself to the surface, while I am scattered and impulsive and hate being told what to do. How could this ever work? The answer is: It could never work. She’s my RA, she just got out of a serious relationship, I’m a mess, and on top of all that, there’s only a little over one month left in the school year. These are facts I simply cannot ignore. Maybe if I had recognized my feelings earlier, maybe if I had listened to her sooner, maybe if I hadn’t screwed up my grades, maybe if Kenton and the auction hadn’t decimated my self-worth, maybe, maybe, maybe then I could be someone worthy of a woman like Rose. But those things did happen and my confidence is shaken, so she shouldn’t be with me until I find a way back to myself first.

  “What are you going to do?” Simon asks after I’ve been quiet for a long time. And man, I feel bad for this guy. We barely know each other and our longest interaction to date has been him watching me go through a rapid-fire display of emotions from,

  “I don’t know what to do,” I say at last.

  “Come on.” Simon stands and reaches out to me. I take his hand and he pulls me up. “Let’s go inside,” he says.

  “I thought we were gonna be hide-out-on-the-stoop pals?”

  “We are,” he says, holding the door open to his apartment for me. “But I think you gotta talk to Rose.” And he’s right. Simon isn’t the one who needs to hear this. Rose is the one.

  Back inside, everyone is still dancing, although Micah has gotten off the couch. I look for Rose but there is no sign of her. I breathe a little sigh of relief that I don’t have to have do this right now. I want to talk with her, but I’m still unsure of what to say. My feelings are a mess.

  I work my way into the group and start rubbing my butt all up on Lucy and Brad, and I’m starting to relax and settle into the party vibes when the song ends and a sultry, hypnotic song comes on, slowing the room down. It’s like this song was engineered to turn people on, and I only need to look around for proof. Everyone couples up almost instantly and Sasha and I sway together like we’re at a middle school dance because we’re both still single.

  As we slowly shuffle around, a couple next to us dressed like avocados leaves and that’s when I see Rose over there in the corner—dancing with someone else. I squint to see and realize it’s Eva, one of the girls I hooked up with last semester. I didn’t even know she was here.

  I hide behind Sasha so Rose doesn’t catch me watching her. Eva moves closer and presses her hips into Rose’s. I watch Rose slip her hand around Eva’s waist, to the small of her back, and pull her in tighter. I watch as Eva leans forward, her lips dangerously close to kissing Rose’s neck. And then I cannot watch anymore. I guess that’s it then. Eva is the someone else Rose has feelings for.

  I thank Sasha for t
he dance and excuse myself. All the momentum I had going into this party evaporates. I want to be here for my friends, to celebrate Brad and Lucy, but right now I need to go home. I don’t want to do the whole song and dance that’s customary when leaving a party before it ends, so I don’t say goodbye to anyone, but I text Lucy that I have a headache and that I called a Lyft back to the LB. I grab my coat from the pile on the floor in the dining room and go home.

  * * *

  1 Did this metaphor work? I can’t tell, but you get where this is going because of course you do, you brilliant reader, you.

  2 I was originally planning to go as Lara Croft from Tomb Raider (the Angelina Jolie version, obviously) but bouncing around with water balloons stuffed in my bra would have made dancing more difficult.

  CHAPTER 21

  The last six weeks of my freshman year of college are so similar to high school—in that they go by sloooooooooooooowly. Every day feels like a week, every week feels like a month, and what a year this month has been.

  Seeing Rose with Eva at Simon’s party was the harsh dose of reality I needed. Rose and I will not be together. I knew the only way I was ever going to accept it and move on was to avoid Rose, so that is exactly what I did. I started eating most of my meals off campus and Micah got hold of her class schedule somehow, so I was able to avoid seeing her in between classes.

  But Emerson is a small school, and we live on the same floor, so running into her was bound to happen. And it finally occurred when I went to pee once. I left my room and started walking toward the bathrooms and saw Rose coming from the other direction toward the bathrooms too. Our eyes locked for just a second before I turned around and ran back into my room. I ended up peeing into an empty Gatorade bottle I found under my bed. Ever since then, I’ve been peeing and showering on the fourth floor, just to be safe.

  But the past month wasn’t all frantic whiz trips to the upper floors—I did other shit too. I started talking to a counselor to help process the trauma with Kenton, I filmed a series of short videos with Brad and Sasha for Lucy’s mom to advertise her B&B, I rewatched all my favorite TV shows, Micah and I volunteered to help students register to vote, and then, there was finals. I studied my motherfucking ass off, worked harder than I ever have worked in my life, and managed to pull out three solid B+s and even my first college A.