by Kata Čuić
“You need to come up with something harder to answer next week. Although, I’m sure Kieran will thank you immensely for the extra traffic and money, we can’t handle two overly crowded fights in a row.”
I nod, then lean my head back on the couch, intent on thinking over my options. I’ll finish my genetics assignment as soon as I’m sure about what to hand Josh for next week’s reveals.
A freezing hand on my forehead startles me from sleep I didn’t realize I succumbed to.
“What the fuck, Ro? She’s burning up, and you’re sitting right next to her, doing nothing.”
“I haven’t been feeling her up. How was I supposed to know?”
“Jesus! All you have to do is look at her to know she’s sick. Are you blind?”
“Gee, thanks,” I croak as I struggle to peel my eyelids open. “Maybe you should be thanking your lucky stars you might actually go blind someday, so you won’t have to be so disgusted by people as horrifying as me.”
Rosie’s gasp fills my ears, but it’s the least of my concerns as I’m lifted off the couch. In my hazy twilight state, it occurs to me my words could easily be taken out of context. She must be assuming I wish I was blind to the horror of Jason’s face. His arms don’t feel anything but warm and comforting as he carries me to bed, then tucks me under the covers, piling on the throw blanket from the couch around my shoulders for good measure.
“Sorry about that,” I mumble.
He smooths hair back from my forehead in response, then lays his palm flush against my skin.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to figure out how high your temperature is.”
“Why?”
“Isn’t that what friends do?”
His minimal responses grate on my nerves until I realize I may have provoked his retreat.
“I didn’t mean it. About being blind.”
From somewhere near the foot of my bed, Rosie’s voice cuts through my mental fog. “She was serious? You’re going blind?”
“She probably knows as much as I do about it,” he grumbles. “I might not, but most of the time, I wish it would happen sooner than later. Maybe I’d be able to accept offers for no-strings sex and blow jobs, then.”
I breathe a sigh of relief when he stops fussing over me, only for my chest to constrict again when Rosie speaks, her laughter laced with sadness. “Because you’re tired of their stares. You don’t want to notice that as much as you’d rather ignore the way they avert their eyes. I guess that makes you luckier than most. There may be a light at the end of your tunnel, yet.”
A startling epiphany takes root in my feverish brain. Not only did Jason and Rosie bond over their shared pity of me, but they also understand each other in ways I never could. I get it now. When they accused me of not fitting in with them, they weren’t wrong. I don’t have a physical deformity. I’m a straight, white, privileged woman.
Sympathy can never be as validating as empathy.
As if to prove my own hypothesis, my mind betrays my thoughts, compelling me to choke out apologies over and over until my voice gives out from the fire stoking in my throat.
“Ssh.” Warm, soft lips brush against my cheek. “You’ve never pitied me before. Don’t start now.”
I can only manage a strangled whimper in response. My, how the tables have turned.
“I brought you a present,” he whispers. “You’re not in any shape to use it, though, so how about some chicken noodle soup instead?”
I attempt to swallow down the shackles holding my tongue hostage. “What present?”
“A new toy. It’s the least I could do since I’m the reason you broke the other one. Trying to maintain my hero status.”
A small part of me is aware Rosie may be overhearing this entire conversation, but I’m too exhausted to care. “You promised. Never speak of it again.”
“Isn’t this what friends do? You rib me for being ugly and going blind, I make fun of you for jilling off and use every opportunity to remind you of it.”
“Not my hero.”
Another kiss to my cheek precedes his low chuckle. “You haven’t tasted my soup yet.”
I don’t taste it when Rosie force feeds it to me later, either. And I don’t feel any warmer as she wraps her limbs around mine to combat my shivering.
In spite of everything, a blanket of peace wraps around me. Throughout a night of restless slumber, I’m acutely aware of Rosie’s embrace and Jason’s warm body radiating heat on my other side, even without his touch.
When he wakes to leave for work at zero dark thirty, he touches my forehead. “You’re getting cooler. You’ll be back to your new, improved self in no time.”
As silence descends around my apartment once he leaves, I let his words sink into my aching bones. Maybe these bridges won’t be the same. Maybe they’ll be stronger.
Truth: No mask can hide what’s beneath.
“A slutty nurse? Really? What happened to the new you?”
That’s a bit insulting, but I let it slide. “It was either slutty nurse, slutty vampire, or slutty witch. The costume shop was picked over this close to Halloween.”
“That’s because it is Halloween.” Jason crosses his arms over his chest as he watches me apply false lashes. While my eyes are as wide as can be, his are narrowed into cat-like slits. “I can’t believe he thought a party tonight is a good idea. It’s Wednesday. We still have school tomorrow. Instead of everyone buzzing around with sugar rushes, we’re all gonna crawl to class with hangovers.”
His negativity isn’t unwarranted. The amount of words he uses to express his feelings makes me smile, though. I no longer have any reason to mourn the sea of sorrows I’ve sailed since the beginning of the semester. Just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, they’re better than ever.
“Your costume is on the bed. Hurry up and put it on so we can go as soon as I’m done.”
“This is the one day a year I fit in without a costume.” He gestures to his face. “I have a built-in mask I wear year-round.”
“Not this year. You’re wearing an actual costume and an actual mask, so no one will recognize you.”
Thankfully, he doesn’t put up any further arguments. Maybe a part of him is grateful to escape his daily reality, though he’d never admit it aloud. The thud of his footsteps moving into my bedroom sounds his retreat. I focus on placing my own mask carefully before settling a blonde wig and nurse’s cap on my crown.
“Are you kidding me?”
I nearly stick a bobby pin in my eye, startling from his shout.
He reappears in the doorway, holding out his costume like it’s poison. “No way, Emma. I’m not playing kinky doctor to your slutty nurse.”
The woman smiling in the mirror bears no resemblance to my usual reflection. “Not a kinky doctor. Doctor Abs.”
“What?”
“Are we or are we not a team?”
“Yes,” he mumbles.
“And do we or do we not have a plan?”
“I never signed up for this,” he grumbles.
“If you’re going to use those muscles for pain, you might as well use them for pleasure, too. We only need to fool one person, not the entire campus. This costume may be a good thing for you.” I’m trying my best to offer him hope in return for the olive branch he’s given me. Buying him a fleshlight to even the score for his replacement of my broken vibrator isn’t an option, seeing as how I can’t bring myself to use his gift.
He rips off his shirt, throwing it into a corner of my tiny bathroom. “Just so we’re clear. I’m expecting to get wasted tonight, not laid. This flimsy mask isn’t going to make a difference.”
I pin my shirt to my bra, just to be certain there will be no wardrobe malfunctions. “Crystal clear, doctor.”
“This better be worth it,” Jason grumbles at my side.
He looks incredibly sexy as he scowls at me under the cover of his mask. The white lapels of his lab coat perfectly frame the tanned, smooth
skin of his granite-chiseled body. Everything about him screams bad boy, looking to be tamed by the right woman. Even without the usual sweat and blood he sports at a Phi Kappa event. He’ll get his requisite kiss tonight, for sure.
“Remember the plan. Our matching costumes serve one purpose. Don’t be worried about having a good time, otherwise.” I place a calming hand on his shoulder, knowing his anxiety comes from a valid place of past experience. “Look around you. This is practically a modern version of Bacchanalia. Everyone’s already drunk out of their minds. Do you really think anyone else would even care if we were here together?”
He follows my gaze around the stifling living room, his shoulders relaxing. “Did you bring a notebook to remember all this? You’re going to have material for weeks. I’m pretty sure I just saw Red Riding Hood giving a lap dance to Magneto while the Big Bad Wolf dragged Cinderella back to his lair.” He points in the direction of the darkened hallway, throbbing with bodies. “Literally. He threw her over his shoulder while she laughed.”
Everywhere we turn, mayhem ensues. From keg stands in the entryway as the price of admission to people tumbling out of the coat closet with their costumes hanging off, the air exudes possibility.
“Just relax and have fun. No one has recognized either of us, and the night is still young.”
“That’s what I’m worried about.” He gives the throngs of hedonists another once over as he drains the rest of his cup. “This is going to get crazier than the first fight night. It’s obvious Kieran’s only doing this to maintain a sense of control. I shouldn’t have fucked with things and demanded a better opponent.”
My worries match Jason’s. We’re walking a fine line as it is. A strong enough quake could send our house of cards tumbling to the ground.
“Where’s our fearless leader this evening? He never did say what costume he was going to wear.”
None of the gyrating bodies encased in false identities matches the movements of the body I know so well. There’s no doubt in my mind he’s keeping to the shadows. He’s probably watching and waiting, judging if his plan to shake things up will be worth it.
“I don’t know where he is, but that’s all the more reason for me to keep my eyes and ears open, right?” I set my cup down on the nearest counter. “You said you wanted to get wasted tonight, so have at it. I’ll be our designated person.”
“I still don’t like the idea of you being the sole source of information.” Jason takes a step closer to me until our bodies touch from shoulder to hip. “All the blowback will fall on you if Kieran decides we’re not playing by the rules. These matching costumes could push him over the edge as much as make him falter.”
His concerns are all the more reason I need to keep up appearances. I want Jason turned into the authorities as much as I want to be revealed as the pariah of Wellbridge. To reassure my partner in righteousness, I peck a kiss on his unshaven cheek. “All the more important for you to enjoy the willing princesses, so we don’t push Kieran too hard, too fast.”
“I’d feel a lot better about abandoning you if Ro would fucking show up. Where is she?”
I shrug, searching for the Wonder Woman costume she promised to wear. “She said she’d meet us here.”
Almost like a beacon of assurance, I spot Rosie elbowing her way through the crowd. It’s no wonder she didn’t get ready with us. She must have gone to a professional makeup artist and paid a ton of money for her authentic Amazonian goddess costume. She finds my gaze and points excitedly to the whip attached to her belt. By the look in her eyes, she has serious plans for that prop later. I can’t help but laugh and share in her excitement.
“Have another spiked cider and do all the things I wouldn’t do.” I smooth down Jason’s lab coat lapels, nodding to Rosie that everything is going according to plan. As much as it can since Kieran sprung this last-minute party on us.
He raises an eyebrow in my direction as he simultaneously nods toward our comrade in arms. “What wouldn’t you do?”
I take another stab at buoying his mood. “Piss play, anything involving fecal matter, and lack of consent. Anything else is on the table.”
He blinks at me several times, suddenly looking much drunker than he actually is. “I feel like I don’t know you at all.”
Another sly smile spreads across my face. The kind I can’t seem but to help showing lately. “This is the new me, remember? A slutty nurse in disguise.”
The girl sobbing on my shoulder might have actually left more than tear stains on my white sleeve, but it’s a small price to pay in the name of revenge.
“There, there. If he was willing to be unfaithful to the wrong Anna, then he was never really your Kristoff. Think of him as a Hans.”
“Maybe it’s not his fault, though.” She straightens up, sniffling an unhealthy amount of snot and trying to focus on me with her glazed eyes. “He had a lot to drink. Maybe he thought it was me.”
“Maybe.”
“Although.” She rolls her shoulders like she’s changing her princess costume into armor. I empathize wholeheartedly with that. “Everyone knows the president of the tri-Betas has a game of poaching taken men. It’s a requirement of office. Ryan never stood a chance between the heavy drinks and her heavy hands tonight.”
No, everyone doesn’t know that. I file that tidbit away in my mental office space to spin for my own use later. My heart breaks for this poor girl. She might not be hurting in the same way I’ve been wounded, but our situations are close enough. There must be something good I can do tonight instead of days from now. “Have you seen Iron Man? He’s had his eyes on you all night. I’ll bet he can take your mind off your troubles.”
Anna, aka Renee Templeton, Vice President of Finance for Omega Alpha, scans the room for the man in question. “Really?”
“Really.” I nod for emphasis, not that she notices. “And from what I hear, he’s fresh off a bad breakup from a cheating ex, too. You have something in common already.”
“You’re right.” Renee downs the rest of her drink in one impressive swallow. It would seem more than one person could potentially benefit from my offhanded matchmaking tonight. “Ryan can kiss my ass. I’m on to bigger and better things.”
“’Atta girl.” I pat her on the back as she rises from her seat beside me on the couch. “Go get him. You deserve it.”
And she does. From my knowledge on the Panhellenic Council, Renee has never done a thing to deserve the injustice she’s been given tonight.
I sigh as satisfaction sweeps through me. Across the room, a gallant Iron Man refills Anna’s cup. They smile at each other, and words I can’t hear are exchanged before they beat a hasty retreat down the hallway which leads to, hopefully, new-found paradise.
A warm body plops down into the vacant seat beside me. “Working your covert interrogation magic, I see. That’ll make a nice reveal for this weekend.”
“The Dark Knight.” I laugh at Kieran’s chosen Halloween attire. “How very appropriate. I didn’t think you would show yourself.”
“I’m not showing myself.” He brings his cup to his lips. “My alter ego is making an appearance.”
“I don’t even know how to respond to that.” He rarely shows himself, anyway. Perhaps the person he pretends to be every day is the farce, as Jason claims, and tonight he’ll show his true colors. “What made you decide to host this last-minute party?”
A smile similar to the kind branded on my face lately makes an appearance beneath his mask. “Tonight’s unexpected fight is good marketing to get more interest for the main event this weekend.”
“You don’t think last weekend went well?” Rosie mentioned students were getting antsy with Jason’s undefeated status. Perhaps Kieran’s aware of that and knows it could be bad for business.
“It could always go better. Part of being an alpha is never settling. Remember that. If you’re not constantly thinking of ways to stay a step of ahead of the pack, then you’ll be replaced by someone who will. Where’s
Jason?”
His advice strikes me as odd. He’s never cared to impart any words of wisdom to me before. “He’s here. I haven’t seen him in a while, though. He’s dressed as a doctor.”
A laugh escapes Kieran. He throws his head back against the couch. “He’s Doctor Abs? How did you talk him into wearing that costume?”
It’s amazing what a mask can do for a man who constantly wears one. If even Kieran didn’t recognize him, then surely no one else has either. “I convinced him he might get even luckier tonight because of it. Maybe that’s where he’s been all this time.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
The weight of Kieran’s stare makes me squirm even as satisfaction blooms in my chest. “Why wouldn’t I be? We aren’t exclusive, and he’s never made me any promises he can’t keep.”
“He’s no good for you, Emma. With all the attention he’s been getting from co-eds since the fights started, you need to be careful. You should probably get tested. He’s already been around the block a few times. He really didn’t need your help in the costume department to get some action.” In spite of his rude question and automatic assumption, Kieran swipes the edge of his beer bottle against his lips like he’s genuinely pondering Jason’s sex life.
I weigh my words carefully before I speak them. Jason’s right; we don’t want to push Kieran over the cliff too quickly. A slow unraveling will be best for everyone involved. “I’ve recently been tested. I’m clean. Jason and I have an understanding. It’s not so different from what you and I had, really, other than he was upfront with me about it, with no room for misinterpretation.”
“And what understanding is that?”
“No strings, no emotions, just safe sex.” The words taste foul on my lips, so I chug the rest of my drink to wash them down. “Neither of us are looking for a relationship our senior year. We both recognize we’ll be moving on after graduation.”
