by Kata Čuić
“Jason and I aren’t like you,” Rosie says with a pleading undertone. “Misfits recognize misfits.”
Well, that’s an excuse if ever I’ve heard it. A lousy one, at that. “What about being a lesbian makes you a misfit? You’re one of the most gorgeous, well-put-together women I know.”
There’s nothing I can say about Jason. It is what it is.
She scoffs into her beer, then raises her hand with an elegant flick of the wrist to indicate she wants another. “Do you know even a single other LGBTQ person on campus? Why do you think I announced it as a distraction for Jason? This is going to make waves, Emma. And there will be serious repercussions.”
The guilt over my anger I’ve been trying to smother in my chest bursts into flames. I’m not so naïve to think coming out of the closet is easy. For Rosie to have kept almost everyone in the dark for so long indicates at least a little fear. With good reason, I suppose. Though we attend a very liberal wealthy university, the statistics are irrefutable. There simply isn’t an LGBTQ population here. My hang-ups over this revelation are nothing compared to hers.
“What are you expecting to happen?” I take a swig of my drink, my mind running rampant with possibilities.
“For starters? Every female friend I have is going to suddenly wonder if I’ve been lusting after them in secret. No one will trust me.”
I crack my first smile in days. “I’m actually rather offended you’ve never hit on me. Not even once.”
Rosie smacks a loud, obnoxious kiss on my cheek, then replies without missing a beat, “You’re not my type.”
I open my mouth to protest, but a loud throat clearing behind me attracts my attention. Rosie and I swivel in unison on our barstools.
It’s none other than Hayleigh Adams. And her smile looks like she just won the Miss Universe pageant. “I’ve been waiting three years for this.”
Hayleigh knew, too? Is that what happened between them? Rosie must have confessed to Hayleigh during their shared winter break, freshman year. Hayleigh obviously didn’t respond the way Rosie had hoped.
Instead of cringing, Rosie offers Hayleigh a similarly victorious grin. “So have I.”
“You are hereby dismissed from Sigma Sigma Theta. By the end of the week, you will relinquish all your letters. Your littles are forfeit and will be assigned new bigs. Obviously.”
“What?” The shock of Hayleigh’s decree rattles my bones. “Isn’t that something the entire sisterhood needs to vote on? You can’t just kick her out!”
We have rules, order, tradition. The sense of hierarchy and clearly defined roles is exactly what drew me to Greek life in the first place. That, and the suddenly throw-away notion of being bound for life by ties stronger than blood.
Hayleigh turns to me with a blatant expression of disgust. “Honestly, Emma. You have a lot to learn if you’re going to be an effective Panhellenic Council representative. But, if it unruffles your feathers, I contacted our national headquarters, and this was the action they advised. Immediately.”
I call bullshit. It’s nine o’clock on a Monday night. There’s no way in hell anyone was available to answer the phone at HQ. Unless there’s some emergency hotline I don’t know about.
Rosie seems eerily calm in the face of such rejection. “I’ll leave everything SST related behind in my room. Along with my key.”
Hayleigh doesn’t even acknowledge her promise, turning to me instead. “It’s time to choose, Emma. Sisterhood or,” she waves a hand in Rosie’s direction, “slumming it.”
“See?” Rosie whispers as Emma turns to leave. “You have a choice. Jason and I do not.”
Truth: You can’t change someone who doesn’t see an issue with their behavior.
“What if she comes after me next, even if I do everything she’s asking? I’m surprised I ever got a bid to SST, anyway! I’ve never really fit in with them, but it was like they didn’t seem to notice! How much longer can that go on? I’m pretty sure Rosie was the only reason anyone liked me!” I stop to catch my breath and struggle not to let loose the torrent of tears threatening to fall. “I can’t abandon her, but Hayleigh made it clear I have no choice.”
Kieran narrows his eyes at me, strangely without malice. If I’d ever seen thoughtfulness on his face before, maybe it wouldn’t seem so out of place.
I’m completely dressed before him, but I’ve never been so naked and vulnerable. After all the sweaty orgasms we’ve exchanged over the years, that realization should be enough to make me run.
“I don’t know who else to talk to,” I admit in an attempt to fill the stifling silence. “Jason and Rosie have their own problems. They don’t need to listen to me complain about my insignificant ones.”
I leave out the part where they’re probably commiserating with each other since I’m obviously not cut from the same cloth.
“Why are you whining to me, then? You don’t think I have enough of my own problems?”
The question hits me hard. Instinct brought me to Kieran’s room after I escorted Rosie back to enemy territory for the night. I obviously didn’t think this plan through to completion.
“Yeah. You’re right.” My shoulders slump in defeat. I guess I could call Mom, but there are so many intricacies about my life she doesn’t know. Details I’m not sure she would ever understand. “I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
Just as I crack the door open to make my escape, his hand grips my wrist.
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t listen. I simply asked why you wanted to talk to me.”
“I already told you.” The dam breaks as the first tears spill down my cheeks. “I don’t have anyone else.”
He cocks his head to the side, studying me more intently than he did the first time I shed my clothes for him. “If that’s true, you wouldn’t have been elected SST’s Panhell rep this year.”
“Rosie was behind that.”
He drops my wrist, then shrugs. “Maybe that’s what Rosie wants you to believe.”
Indignation fires through my veins. “What is that supposed to mean?”
He raises his hands in a gesture of defense, sensing my anger at his implication. “Hear me out. You said Rosie dropped this bombshell as a way to distract everyone on campus from the fight Jason was involved in. What if she lied about her reasons? What if she was planning to come out of the closet all along, but knew she’d need an ally? So, she buttered you up first, made you think she was looking out for your best interests, when in reality, she’s been playing you all along.”
I’m not sure whether to slap him or kiss him. “Jesus, Kieran. What is so broken inside you that you could even come up with that scenario?”
He fixes me with a deadpan stare. The lack of emotion actually comforts me. It’s more of what I’m used to. “I already told you what’s wrong with me. I thought we were discussing what’s wrong with you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I can’t even muster up embarrassment over repeating myself.
“You’re too trusting.”
His words slap me. So obvious yet so unexpected.
“I guess that explains why I’m confiding in you.” His invitation to play poker and his fraternities disgusting welcome gift started all this. I’m swimming in shark-infested waters.
“Exactly.” He nods, a strange gleam in his eyes that both makes my heart race even as goosebumps of doom spread across my stretched skin.
Everything itches and burns. In the past week, all I thought I knew has gone up in flames, leaving me raw, exposed, unable to know who to trust or where to turn.
I’ve become the loner I once believed Jason to be.
Only I never expected this; never in my wildest dreams believed all I’d worked so hard for would turn out to be nothing more than the dust of daydreams. For as much as Jason thinks I’ve succeeded, it’s clear I’ve utterly failed.
I don’t even have any friends. Not really.
“You also don’t put enough faith in yourself.” Kieran retreats to hi
s bed, sprawling out and folding his hands behind his head like this is the most relaxing conversation imaginable. And maybe it is. It’s not about him, after all. “You’re in a unique position to help your friends and fit into both worlds.”
He might be a closed book, but I’ve always been open. Look where that’s gotten me. I scoff. Openly. “What part about I don’t have any friends did you not understand?”
“I don’t see your problem. If you don’t have any friends, this should be an easy decision. Keep doing what you’ve been doing.”
If I didn’t need my brains to pass my senior classes, I’d bash my head against the door in frustration. “Doing what I’ve always been doing isn’t the answer, either. Clearly, that’s not working so well for me. It’s my senior year, Kieran. As you so generously pointed out, I should be exploring my options. The whole problem is I have none.”
“Seems to me you have plenty.” He continues to lie there, looking nonplussed as my world crumbles around my ears.
“Name one.”
“Easy. You said it yourself. Abandon Rosie and stay with SST or keep Rosie and abandon SST.”
Sadness wells up in my chest, snuffing out my previous anger. “I’m not sure I have SST without Rosie. And I’m not sure I ever had Rosie at all.”
“What’s got your panties in a twist?” Jason looks up from his homework, splayed across my coffee table.
“Why can’t you stay down in your dank, dark apartment?” The last thing I need is his bitter attitude. I have enough bitterness to last me the whole year through.
“Why would I do that when you have all the comfortable furniture I built here?” He relaxes against the couch, draping his arms across the back, then scans my body from head to toe and back again in a way that only heightens my annoyance. “Seriously. What’s wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with you?” Sure, it’s childish, but at least I’m not grilling him about how he knew Rosie’s secret long before I did. It’s been nearly twenty-four hours since she announced her sexuality to our sisterhood, and I’ve held strong. I haven’t so much as looked twice at Jason in all that time, let alone unleashed my resentment.
He gestures toward his face like a deranged game show host, but of course…doesn’t speak.
That’s the last straw. I’ve had enough of my friends not telling me things. “You know what? I can’t deal with you tonight. Go home.”
My mind reeling, I bypass the living room for the kitchen, intent on something to wash down the pain. My secret and paltry stash of liquor yields up nothing comforting. Everything I see reminds me of things I’d rather forget—vodka for Jason’s night of disclosure; Jameson for my post-sorority meetings with Rosie. The only person I don’t associate an alcohol with is Kieran, and he certainly didn’t provide any revelations earlier. The fridge doesn’t give me any answers. A half-gallon of milk and pitcher of water offer no comfort, either.
If a small part of my brain was hoping for Jason to follow me, interrogate me, and dive into the deepest recesses of my mind, then…shocker—I’m in for disappointment. When I look toward the living room, it’s empty.
He’s gone.
And I feel worse than ever.
Truth: No good deed goes unpunished.
Are emotional hangovers a thing? I feel like they should be a thing.
The sun blinds me as I stumble across a crack in the sidewalk. Birds chirping in the yellowing leaves of fall, students chatting as they pass by me, the sound of a car lurching down the street—all combine to produce a cacophony of noise that makes my ears bleed.
It’s been two weeks since the fight between Jason and the Phi Kappa brothers at the Fall Opener Party. One week has passed since Rosie announced she’s a lesbian to the sisters of SST in an effort to distract the campus of Wellbridge University from Jason’s position as enemy number one.
I can’t tell if her efforts have paid off. How am I supposed to know if everything has gone back to the status quo when my mind is still reeling? Nothing will ever be the way it was; I’m forced to acclimate to a new normal. One that involves going through the motions of my day-to-day routine of classes and homework with only the bare minimum of human contact.
I should be excited about my first Panhellenic Council meeting this weekend; making plans to attend any of the numerous Greek parties with my sisters. Instead, I’ve holed up in my apartment every evening with my phone on mute, trying to bury my problems in mounds of homework.
For their parts, everyone has been giving me space—Hayleigh included. It’s almost as if she’s waiting to see where my loyalties lie. Since I have yet to make a choice, she hasn’t felt the need to carry out her threat. It’s odd how we’ve never interacted much until now. As much as I’ve always tried to be her friend while maintaining the ignorant façade of our shared time in high school, I never wanted to be on her radar like this.
It’s ironic to find myself back where I started. The SST letters on my shirt have been rendered meaningless. I don’t fit in anywhere.
“I’ve been giving it some thought.”
The familiar voice at my back startles me as much as if a guy in a trench coat suddenly flashed me his goods. I freeze in place and clutch my chest as I gasp for air. Apparently, not speaking to anyone in a week does strange things to a person. Like causing visceral shock at the sound of a voice being directed at me.
“I think you already know who you want to pick. You’re just afraid to do it. I’ve come up with a solution to everyone’s problems.” Kieran gazes down at me evenly, either ignoring or not caring about my near panic attack.
After one too many moments of awkward, silent staring at each other, my brain catches up. “What kind of solution? And what do you mean, ‘everyone’s problems?’”
He narrows his eyes ever so slightly. More unusual behavior. “Get Rosie and Jason to your apartment at ten. I’ll be there with answers.”
He disappears as quickly as he showed up, a strange ghost who blends in yet seems to vaporize in the throngs of smiling college faces.
I stare in the direction he went for so long, it never occurred to me to ask him if he needs my address. Since when does Kieran know, or care, where I live?
“What’s going on?” Rosie seems like a shell of herself, peeking around corners, wringing her hands, biting her lip. Her usually picture-perfect makeup is absent. She’s as gorgeous as ever, even with a fresh face and un-styled hair, but the sight is jarring, nonetheless.
Guilt warms my chest until I notice Jason closing the door behind her. I shouldn’t be surprised they arrived together since I texted them both to meet me here at the same time. Still, it’s obvious they’re a team. I’m the outsider in this trio as Rosie so eloquently pointed out a week ago.
I shrug instead of responding to her question. I honestly don’t have an answer. Kieran hasn’t arrived yet, and though my mind has been spinning fantastic possibilities all day long, I have no real way of knowing what he’s about to spring on us. If he ever shows up.
“It must be bad if she’s drinking on a school night.” Jason gestures to my coffee table, littered with half-full bottles of every liquor I could scrounge up in my apartment.
I ignore his comment and take another swig of my Screwdriver as I attempt to relax on my own couch. It would be stupid to admit I needed a little liquid courage before this meeting. Dumber still to act like my skin isn’t crawling due to their presence in my home. Besides, orange juice is healthy, and just because they don’t understand the meaning of friendship doesn’t mean I have to be inhospitable.
“Please. Help yourselves. I apologize it’s not a fully stocked bar, but I brought out everything I have. Kieran should be here any minute. He asked me to have you both meet him. Said something about having a solution to all your problems.”
No need to mention he claimed to have an answer to mine, as well. Even the all-great Kieran King can’t repair what’s been broken for me.
Rosie’s eyes widen. In the span of a second, sh
e reverts to her sassy self. “Are you insane? He’s a Phi Kappa. Jason can’t be near them. Did you stop for a second to think about how this might be a set-up, or are you really too selfish to care about anything other than your own wants?”
If she had slapped me across the face, I couldn’t be more hurt. Before I can launch into a diatribe about who’s really the selfish one, Jason puts a calming hand on her shoulder.
“She wouldn’t set us up that way, Ro. You’ve been going crazy all week. Let’s stay and hear him out. Maybe he can help.”
Strangely, Jason’s insistence on referring to me like I’m not even in the room hurts more than Rosie’s accusation. As does his disgustingly sweet nickname for her. Does she have a nickname for him, too? Is that part of being in the misfits club?
I don’t have long to stew before Kieran slips into my apartment without knocking. “Sorry I’m late. I had to make sure no one saw me arrive.”
“Great,” I snort into my glass. “That doesn’t make whatever you have up your sleeve sound like a horrible idea before you even spill what it is.”
He glares at me. Outright glares.
This surprising show of emotion can only mean one of two things: either I’ve had too much to drink, and I’m hallucinating, or I haven’t had nearly enough to brace me for what’s to come. Banking on the latter, I pour myself a shot of vodka and throw the burning liquid down the hatch.
Jason leans against my small dining table, crossing his arms over his chest. If he’s going for formidable, I give him mad props for the acting. He doesn’t have to try so hard to look aloof. “What’s this all about? Emma said you requested this little rendezvous?”
Ooh. Big, fancy words, Jason. Nice touch.
Next thing I know, he’ll declare his undying love for one Rosie Kavanagh, and bend her over the table where I eat, before taking her in a virile display of animal lust, without regard to his audience. She’ll scream in ecstasy and admit she’s bisexual and always dreamed of this moment with him before begging him to take her harder.
