by Unknown
“I have to ask you, Michelle…”
“Yeah, what?”
“Why in the world would you want to come here?”
“What do you mean?”
We stopped in front of the Lair. “I don’t know. If I were you, I would’ve gone to the east coast, maybe even left the country. At least for a little while. I wouldn’t have gone to a school in Los Angeles, and I certainly wouldn’t have gone to the same school my sister…”
I didn’t have to finish my sentence. She put her hand out to stop me, as her joyful demeanor quickly dissipated. “No, I know,” she said. “I’m sure a lot of people might ask me that. You want to know the real, kind of boring answer?”
I nodded. “Sure.”
“This was the only school I applied to. I wanted to go to the school my older sister had been raving about for two years. And by the time she died, it was too late to re-apply anywhere else.”
“Really? Even with this special of a circumstance?”
Her eyes lowered a bit. “Special?” she asked, perplexed.
“That’s not… you know what I mean. Such a dire circumstance. There. That’s the word.”
She sighed, and pushed her hands against her back. “In the end I just decided not to let what happened to Melanie screw up the rest of my life. This was the school I wanted to go to, and still is. And I think, as weird as it sounds, I feel like I’m keeping her legacy alive a little, me going here. I can finish what she started.”
She was right. It was weird. But I politely nodded and opened the door for her. The place was obnoxiously crowded, with a line for the register stretching all the way to the sandwich bar. I pushed through at least a dozen people to get to the food stations.
“So what’s good here?” Michelle asked.
“Not a lot,” I said. “The Lair isn't exactly known for quality, but I’ll show you what I usually get for dinner. You can’t go wrong with their pastrami sandwiches. Those are really good, but the best stuff here is the kung pao chicken—”
“Melanie?” a voice said from behind us. “Oh my God, is that you?”
Two girls stepped out of line, walked right up to Michelle—and didn’t even acknowledge me. It was two of Melanie’s sorority sisters, Kendra and Daisy. They were both tan and brunette, both five foot two, with Kendra at 105 pounds, and Daisy a touch fatter at 110 pounds.
“It can't be,” Kendra continued. “It's not possible.”
Michelle cleared her throat, sported that happy-go-luck smile of hers, and said, “No, no. I’m Michelle, Melanie’s sister.”
“Her sister?” Daisy asked, looking her over. “Melanie had a sister?”
“Yeah, I’m a freshman. Here, look.” She dug her hand through her bag and handed Daisy her student ID. Daisy showed it to Kendra.
“She’s right,” Kendra said. “Well, I’ll be damned. You look so much like Melanie, it’s downright scary.”
Michelle shrugged. “Don't I know it.”
“It’s so sad what happened,” Daisy said, and she directed an exaggerated frown toward me. “She was so full of life, and such a great friend. I wish one of us could have kept a better eye on her that night. Maybe taken that tequila bottle out of her hand.”
Kendra said, “I know, it makes me feel terrible. If we had known she was such a lightweight, none of us would have been chanting for her to drink so much. Sad. But I guess life goes on, right? Michelle, have you put any thought into joining a sorority? We're going to be looking for new members in a couple of—”
I pulled Michelle behind me and pushed Kendra in the shoulder. “Will you both just shut up?” I said, finally chiming in. “What’s the matter with you?”
Kendra blocked me with her arms. “Whoa, whoa, watch the hands!”
“Were you two dropped on your heads as kids? I want to know.”
Daisy looked away from me, like she didn’t have the means to disagree. Kendra stomped her foot and said, icily, “I beg your pardon?”
I kept a tight grip on Michelle's hand and yanked her away from the two girls, over to the sandwich station. Pastrami sandwiches it would be. “They should know better,” I said.
“It’s fine, Sydney, really. I've met girls like them before, it's nothing new.”
We were three steps away, when I stopped. The girls had been talking so fast I had trouble catching every insensitive remark—but one immediately stood out.
I turned back around. “Wait a minute,” I said. “Hey! Kendra!”
“What?” she asked. She and Daisy were already back in line.
“Did you say you were chanting?”
“Uhh, yeah. So?”
I stomped up to her. “I've talked to people who were there that night. Everyone told me Melanie wanted to get drunk, that no one forced her into it…”
“That's exactly right. No one forced her to do anything,” Kendra said. “She showed up at Reece’s party that night wanting to have a good time. She wasn’t doing anything she didn't want to do.”
There was a trace of dishonesty in her eyes, I could tell. I eyed her, suspiciously. “But you were chanting. You were egging her on.”
“It was a party, Sydney. We were just having fun—”
“How can you two sleep at night?” I said. “Seriously.”
I walked away from them a second time, and re-joined Michelle at the sandwich station.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
I tried to relax. My heart was racing. “Am I all right? What about you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Michelle, those girls were there that night. They could have banded together and stopped Melanie from drinking herself to death, and instead they did the opposite, and chanted for her to drink even more! Doesn’t that make you angry? My God, it just makes me want to kill somebody.” I smashed my fists together—then pursed my lips, and attempted a lame smile. “Sorry. Again... not the right choice of words.”
“It’s okay,” Michelle said. “Honestly, I take two things from this. One, she’s dead, she’s gone, and there’s nothing any of us can do about it. And two, she was happy that night, she was having a really good time. She wasn’t drinking to fit in. She was drinking to have fun, and nothing more.”
“Oh, were you there?” It hadn't occurred to me to ask.
“Well... no.”
I brought my hands to my hips. “Then how can you know for sure?”
She stared at me, with those same big green eyes Melanie had. I noticed for the first time the tears forming in them. “I can’t. I know I can’t. It's just how I choose to think. I want to believe Melanie was happy on her last night, and that she wasn't forced into anything she didn't want to do. Can’t you understand that?”
When she started crying, I pulled her close, and put my arm around her. “Shh. I’m sorry. You’re right, you’re absolutely right. How about we get some food, huh?”
She wiped a tear from her cheek, and nodded. “Yes, please. That sounds—”
“Are you two gonna order something?” the server interrupted from behind the sandwich bar. I noticed for the first time that people were in line behind us.
“Oh! Uhh, yes,” I said. “Two pastrami sandwiches, please.”
We paid for the food and headed to a small, hidden table in the back. I took Michelle to the secluded part of the Lair because I didn’t want to have to talk to Kendra and Daisy again. But another part of me didn’t want anyone seeing us. Kendra and Daisy wouldn't have been the only ones; any student on campus who knew me, who knew Melanie, would have likely assumed I was dining with my back-from-the-grave former roommate. I wasn't in the mood to handle another awkward encounter.
I took one bite of my sandwich, glanced to my right.
And almost choked.
Evan was sitting by himself a mere ten yards away, up on a stool that overlooked the quad. He took a final bite of his macaroni and cheese, grabbed his backpack, and jumped down to his feet. I thought it was possible he wouldn't look at us, wouldn't s
ee us, would just start walking in the other direction.
Instead, of course, he focused his eyes right on me.
“Syd? Is that you?”
There was no use in hiding. “Oh. Hey Evan.”
He raced up to me, and kissed me on the cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me you were eating here? I would've waited for you.”
“It was… sort of last minute. Evan, you won’t believe who—”
I stopped. Looked up at him. I didn’t have to say a word. His eyes may have been reserved for me for a few seconds—but not any longer.
“Oh, wow.” He looked at her in a chilling, knowing way. “Hi Michelle.”
She narrowed her eyes, and gave me a bewildered look, before she smiled at my handsome boyfriend.
“Hello Evan,” she said. “How are you?”
Chapter 28
How did I come to be at the center of a really bad soap opera?
Here we were, months later, and I was still vying for Evan’s attention over Melanie Swanson. Except her name was apparently Michelle, and her birthdate was apparently two years after Melanie’s. Just when I thought I had Evan all to myself, here was a new element to the equation I had never expected.
Evan kept his arm around my back, kept his shoulder nudged up next to mine. But his behavior didn’t match his interests. If I hadn’t known any better, he would have preferred to be nestled up to her.
“So you two are dating, huh?” she asked. I couldn’t tell if her amused demeanor was forced or genuine.
“Yeah,” Evan said. “I mean, not for very long.”
I opened my mouth, but hesitated. I had to tread lightly. “We spent a lot of time together over the summer, Michelle. You know... grieving over Melanie, sharing stories about her. This thing with me and Evan just sort of happened. Neither of us expected it.”
I waited for the screams, the tears, the flipping over of the table. But Michelle didn't even change her expression. She, oddly enough, didn't seem to care. “You know, it kind of makes sense, actually,” she said, and brought her elbows up to the table. “You two were obviously friends before, and now you’re together. You know what? I think Melanie would have been okay with this.”
“Really?” I asked. It was hard to hide my shock at her reaction. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything before, I wasn’t sure how’d you take it. I didn’t want you to freak out or anything.”
She shrugged. “I’m not freaked out. I’m fine with it, seriously. I want you two to be happy.”
If she hadn't been facing me, I would have let out the biggest sigh of my life. “That’s really mature of you, Michelle. Thank you.”
Awkward silence followed. We all just stared at each other for a moment.
“So,” Evan finally said, his focus on Michelle, “what classes are you taking your first semester?” Since he sat down, he had spent most of his time asking her questions. How are you? How’s your mom? How’s the first day going? Is there anything I can do for you? He was acting like a big brother—to the extreme.
“I’m, uhh, let’s see. I’m taking English 101, which should be pretty easy. Psychology 101. Art of the Cinema, with Sydney.”
“Oh, you two have a class together?” Evan looked my way, for the first time in minutes. He gave me a puke-worthy grin. “How neat.”
I bit down on my tongue. I had almost forgotten, no matter how much I wanted to avoid Michelle, that I would be forced to see her every Monday afternoon for the next sixteen weeks.
“Yes, that’s right,” I said, and tried not to roll my eyes. “But Michelle, speaking of that... how’d you even get in the class? I tried enrolling twice sophomore year, and it was always full. And you're only a freshman.”
She shifted her gaze to the table, like she was hiding something. “I don’t know. I guess there was a slot open.”
“But... there couldn’t have been. By the time freshmen sign up for classes, almost everything’s gone. Especially Art of the Cinema.”
Michelle wouldn't look at me, for the first time since we took our seats. “I wanted to take some easy classes my first semester, that's all. I didn’t want anything too difficult.”
“No, I get that, but—”
“So I talked to the attendance office. Told them my situation. They made an extra slot for me.”
I veered my eyes toward Evan, then back to Michelle. “You mean... you got in because of what happened to Melanie?”
“I wouldn’t really say it like that, but yeah, I guess.”
She had used her sister's death to enroll in a film class? That instantly rubbed me the wrong way.
I backtracked, though, and forced a smile. Ridiculing Michelle wasn't going to score me any points with Evan. “I’m not saying that’s bad. I mean, you’re right. You shouldn’t have a bunch of hard classes your first semester. A lot of people in your position might have dropped out of school completely, so I have to applaud you for that.” And the Oscar goes to...
“Thanks.” She nibbled on her sandwich. I had already pushed mine to the side. The pastrami was a little dry tonight. “It’s like what I told you the other night, Sydney. I'm trying my best to move on. I have to, you know?”
“The other night?” Evan asked, and darted his eyes at me.
Shit. “Oh. Yeah. I forgot to tell you. Michelle and I bumped into each other on Saturday.”
“Where? At the restaurant?” His voice dropped a little lower, like he was upset, but I didn't mind. At least he was looking at me for a change, and not her. “Was she the person you bumped into when you were gone for an hour?”
“It was not an hour. It was twenty minutes, tops.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He turned back to Michelle. “It's not a big deal, I just... I would’ve said hi to you.”
“I don't know,” I said. “It totally slipped my mind, I'm sorry. That night was kind of insane.”
Evan nodded. “You're right about that.”
“Especially after dinner,” I added, and brushed my shoulder against his chin. “We won by a lot, didn’t we?”
I laughed out loud, and Evan finally broke a smile. I got lucky; Evan didn't seem to mind that I had kept my little run-in with the look-alike a secret.
I glanced across the table, as Michelle crossed her arms and stared at the two of us like we were her mortal enemies. “I don’t think I understand,” she said.
Telling her Evan and I beat Lukas and Robert in moaning decibel levels? Yeah, probably too soon. I shook my head. “It’s nothing.”
“So,” Evan said, with yet another question for the newbie, “what dorm are you living in?”
After a few more minutes, Evan excused himself to go to his Monday night Courts, Law, and Society class—yawn—and since Michelle’s dorm was on the way to my car, I had no choice but to walk her home.
“So would you say you had a good first day?” I asked.
“I think so,” she said. “I got to spend some time with my roommate Sasha this morning. She reminds me of you, actually.”
“Of me?”
She chuckled, and said, “Yeah. I mean, just a little.”
“It's funny you say that. You don’t remind me of anyone.”
She rolled her eyes, and chuckled, again. She was so upbeat, for having gone through such tragedy; I couldn't get over it. “Don’t get me started,” Michelle said. “You thought those two sorority girls were bad. I had a freaking janitor ask me this morning if I was Melanie. Do I need to get a haircut or something?”
“Honestly?”
She nodded.
“A shorter haircut would not only look really pretty on you, but it would definitely make you look different. At least, a little bit. Right now it’s so uncanny. I think it's gonna freak some people out.”
She yawned, and slapped her hands against her hips. “You're probably right,” she said. “I'll go sometime this week. Before the homework starts piling up.”
“Good idea.” I smiled. A haircut for Michelle would be a welcome thing. For bot
h of us.
We stopped in front of her dorm, Rosecrans Hall. It was the most outdated of all the dorms on campus, and typically housed the freshman stoners.
“Well, it was nice seeing you again,” I said, with little emotion, and started walking toward the parking lot.
“Same to you. Oh, and Sydney?”
“Yeah?” I stopped.
She stayed focused on me, like she was studying my every move. “I meant what I said before. I’m happy for you and Evan. I hope it works out.”
She was so genuinely excited for us that I wanted to throw up. It wasn’t normal. Four months after her sister’s death, the boyfriend was dating the former roommate, and this didn’t bother her? Either she was the most blissfully content person alive, or she was putting on some kind of performance.
I wanted to believe the former.
But the latter seemed way too likely.
I unlocked my car and jumped inside. I looked out the windshield, at Rosecrans Hall. I saw a figure walking down the fifth floor hallway. Blonde hair, black shorts, cute figure. Michelle.
I tapped my knuckles against my front two teeth and leaned against the dashboard. “Who the hell are you?” I said, as I narrowed my eyes. “Who are you, and what are you doing here?”
Chapter 29
The rest of my first week went as expected. I survived all the boring class introductions, and by Thursday I was already depressed about the mountain of homework assignments piling up. I saw a little bit of Lukas, and practically none of Evan, which I expected. The only real surprise that week was that after Monday I didn’t bump into Michelle a single time.
At least, not until the following Monday.
Evan and I spent Labor Day at Dockweiler State Beach, in Playa del Rey, just the two of us. I soaked up the rays, while he poured over notes for his first test of the semester. We didn’t say much to each other for the first hour, but it wasn’t awkward. I assumed if we could reach a point in our relationship where we didn’t have to be constantly yapping at each other all the time, there was a chance it would last. Back in high school, James and I never had that. Three seconds of silence would go by, and then he would be ranting yet again, about something neither of us particularly cared about. Evan and I, on the other hand, were comfortable together, and never had to resort to that bullshit.
